By the afternoon of the following day the Ibex mo’huran had traveled far enough that they could no longer see the great spirit’s smoldering black plume when they looked back in the homeward direction. And shortly thereafter they reached the northbound border marker. Once they crossed the threshold of the marker they will officially be outside Black Glass territory, beyond the shadow of Maw’Goro.

This one was different from the western marker Yuliko had seen. Instead of a stack of large disc-like stones, this monument was a trilithon; Three monolithic obsidian rectangles standing upright to support a horizontal rectangle block, creating a three pillared frame. Yuliko tried to imagine a group of men lifting and arranging the monolithic blocks into the shape before her, and the complexity of such a task confounded her. It was even bigger than the western marker. Enormous ramps and cranes and scores of workers must have been required.

The monument was nestled in a grove of yungit trees at the top of a hillcrest overlooking the expanse of forest beyond. The whitish-tan bark of the yungits made the black obsidian monument all the more striking. Yuliko and the others walked beneath its massive beam in awe.

The blocks had also been etched with pictoglyphs. Symbols meant to forewarn of the potential encounters that lay in this direction. The glyphs were arranged in no discernable order that Yuliko could tell, and the artistic quality of the renderings varied. Amongst them glyphs she spotted the wavy lines of flowing water, which surely referred to the northward branch of the Hungry River, the Sharp Tooth. There was also a glyph of a stick figure man with a flower head, crowned with a circle of petals. Yuliko thought that must mean there really was a field with flowers that could grab people.

And there were also a mammoth herd, some strange humpbacked horse creatures, rings of many colors surrounded by figures holding spears, a tower of some sort with a five-pointed star at its top, amongst several other carvings. The young Ibexes all vocalized the rumors and legends they knew that may correlate with one of the glyphs.

“This swirly symbol must be the tornado that the blind adventure tricked out of its wind,” Pykor said.

“These little figures could be the savage squirrel people that attack from the trees with poison arrows,” Zana said.

Minty searched for a drawing of a scalewing rider, but was disappointed to find none.

Strangely, there was also a triangle scratched onto the obsidian, the glossy black outlined with white grooves. The triangle symbolized Maw’Goro, but, of course, the great volcano lay in the opposite direction. None of them could recall a tale with another volcano.

After it seemed like they had learned all they could from the pictoglyphs Faydayo called for them to move out. His plan was simply to head northward until a viable option for Maw’Goro’s tribute revealed itself. Which Yuliko guessed was about as good a plan as she could have come up with.

As she took her position in the last place, she could feel a palpable mixture of excitement and nervousness in the air. From this point forward they would be truly on their own, and cannot return until their vow is fulfilled.

Just then as they were about to resume their march, Yuliko got the strange sensation that they were being watched. She spun around, looking from tree to tree, seeing nothing to alarm her, but the sensation remained. Her eyes then drifted upward to the very top of the trilithon, and along the horizontal upper block, almost obscured by the sunlight reflecting off the obsidian, she spotted another glyph. It was a carving of a person with antlers, sitting cross-legged and coiled by a serpent around his torso.

“Look!” Yuliko shouted, pointing up at the antlered glyph. “It’s a green man!”

The others looked up where she pointed.

“Oh, it is a green man,” Kardan said.

“See. They are out there in the far lands,” Yuliko said, excitedly. “This proves my story was true.”

“That proves nothing,” Faydayo said. “We don’t know that that’s a green man any more than we know what you saw that night.”

“Look Faydayo,” Yuliko said waving at the trilithon. “Our ancestors carved them upon the border marker. That means they’re out there. That means . . . .'' Her excitement suddenly turned to a sickening horror. A chilling creep tingled at her spine. The green men were out there. In the direction they were headed. The black eyes of her attacker staring down at her overtook all other thoughts, like a stormcloud taking over the sky. Yuliko again searched the treelines for a watcher, and saw nothing.

“That glyph could be ancient,” Krissa said. “Nobody knows when it was carved there. It could be from before the green men went extinct.”

But they aren’t extinct, Yuliko thought. They’re only hiding.

“Why is it wrapped by a snake?” Kardan asked.

Nobody had an answer for that.

And so, Faydayo ordered them onward into the far lands.

#

It started raining shortly after they crossed the trilithon, and it continued off and on—mostly on—for the next two days. The rainforest beyond the border marker was much the same as the forest within. Pappos and yungits and rubber trees. Guavas and mangoes and melondrop blossoms. Jungle birds and bush rodents. It was like they hadn’t left home at all.

Yuliko liked feeling the rain. The familiarity of it made her less nervous. However, and perhaps Yuliko was imagining this, but she felt as if there was a chill in the rain that wasn’t there in Maw’Goro’s domain. She wondered if the great spirit’s hot power had been warming the air and the rainclouds too.

So far their journey into the far lands had been uneventful. They simply marched north and it rained. But that eerie feeling of being watched never really left Yuliko. Sometimes she would see Faydayo stop and stare through the treelines, like she had been doing. But, he never seemed to notice anything to act upon either.

On a resting break, Yuliko stood before Faydayo with her head lowered, the formal way of a subordinate asking to speak. He tapped her shoulder, giving her permission. “Faydayo, I have had the sense that we are being followed.”

He only gave a slight nod, telling her he understood and to proceed as normal.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

On the third night they made camp at the top of a rocky hill. The ground wasn’t comfortable, but at least they were out of the mud and puddles. Yuliko, Kardan, and Minty huddled under a tarp together.

“I’m starting to think that it must always be the wet season in the far lands,” Kardan said.

It was peculiar to have such consistent rain during the dry season, but not entirely unheard of. Even Yuliko was growing weary of it. It wasn’t like going on a hunting trip back home, where she knew she would be returning to a warm camp with all its comforts after only a few days.

“I’m already tired of dried salt beef,” Minty said, as she gnawed at a jerky stick.

Yuliko couldn’t help but agree. It would at least be nice to spice up the beef with some ucca-yacca.

Thankfully, the following morning was clear skies, albeit extremely muggy. Faydayo always had the group moving by first light, and in the twilight hour they spotted a family of beavers heading over the next slope, two adults and two children, walking in a line much like the mo’huran. They were large creatures, the adults were as big as man kin, with teeth like daggers. Faydayo raised his fist, commanding silence and stealthy footsteps. He nodded to his followers, confirming his intent to hunt the beavers.

Beaver furs would make excellent waterproof cloaks. Though the Ibexes were used to rain, it would be an extremely useful item to have if the weather was getting colder, and to use as waterproof covers for their packs. Plus, the beaver meat would be a nice reprieve from the salt beef.

Everyone readied their spears. The mo’huran stalked the beaver family for a long while to a creek where a wooden beaver shack was under construction. The family must have recently been forced to move to a new location, perhaps by predators or a natural disaster.

Faydayo halted them a half mile away from the shack. Using hand signals, he split the party into two groups. The first one to sneak up on the beaver from behind and force them away from the creek. The second group to lie in waiting and spring on the startled beavers. If his plan worked properly they would hopefully be able to slay the whole family, but they would at least try for the two young beavers, who would be the easiest kills with the softest furs.

Faydayo needed his best hunters in hiding to make the killing blows, which was himself, Zana, and Pykor. So, that left the others to surprise the beavers. By status rights Krissa should have led the first group, however, Faydayo instead put Kardan in charge. Ever since the squabble with the Razor Boar mo’huran Faydayo had shown Kardan a modicum of respect, at least when it came to time for action. And, without saying a word, he signaled for the groups to get in position.

The Black Glass People primarily hunted with the atlatl and throwing darts. An atlatl is a throwing device that acts as an extension of the thrower’s arm, with a nook on the end to hold a spear or dart. The atlatl adds more momentum to the throw, allowing projectiles to be launched twice as far with accuracy. Yuliko loaded her atlatl with a dart once they took position behind some bushes by the creek bed.

All the hunters would have their atlatls readied as well from their position behind a thick pappo tree. The beaver family went about their business unaware of the predators nearby. The mother beaver was trying to nudge the children to the inside of the hut, but they were too engaged at sticking their noses into nearby puffy dandelions. And the father beaver was busy chewing the end of a log he presumably brought over earlier.

Kardan waited for the signal from Faydayo. He was expecting a loud ‘Hiyah’ and then they would all launch their spears and shout, driving the beavers towards the pappo tree to be finished off. However, instead of the Ibex call, a loud screechy “WHOOP!” hollered through the woods.

Suddenly a half dozen spears came from across the creek and striked the beaver home. Two spears dug into the mother beaver. The father beaver squeaked something at the small ones then pushed them to the river. And before a second volley of spears could come from newcomers, the surviving beavers had dived into the creek and swam away.

“WHOOP! WHOOP!” Sarkola and the Razor Boar’s yelped as they came out of hiding, running and splashing through the creek to their prey. They wore wooden armor, fashioned with small planks corded together to give the wearer flexibility. And they wore oblong cone-shaped wicker helmets.

The mother squeakily moaned with pained heavy breaths, two protruding spears in her side. Sarkola knelt next to her and slit her throat. “WHOOP!” he shouted out when stood back up. He spun around to face the foliage. “Ibexes! Faydayo! Come on out!”

Faydayo walked out with his atlatl still loaded. Zana and Pykor followed. Then Kardan led the other group out with their spears ready. The Razor Boars stood defensively with their weapons.

“What is this, Sarkola?” Faydayo said. “You’ve been stalking us. Why?”

“Just to let you know that we could, Ibex,” Sarkola said. The tufts of his mohawk stuck out from the lip of his helmet. “At any point we could have taken your mo’huran out. Just like the Razor Boars can take out the Ibexes whenever they want. Remember that.”

Faydayo tried to mimic Domylo’s impassive stare, but Yuliko could see the hot rage under the surface in her leader’s face. “You dishonor your Great Journey with these games,” Faydayo said finally.

“The game of status never stops being played, Ibex,” Sarkola said, then he turned to face Yuliko. “But I see you still don’t know how to play. You’ve kept the Totem-Loser around.”

Yuliko was sure Faydayo was calculating the situation the same as her. The Razor Boars’ armor would deflect their spear throws, though the Ibexes could get a couple lucky shots. Then they would be brawling again with war clubs, and the Ibexes would be disadvantaged without armor, but maybe they could be quicker. Attacking was risky, with no benefit.

Faydayo removed his dart from the atlatl and resigned from his fighting stance. All the other Ibexes followed. Yuliko noticed that Uma, the Razor Boar healer, and Nokomo, the shaman were visibly relieved to avoid more fighting.

“You have stolen our hunt and made your point. Now my mo’huran shall continue our Journey.” Faydayo said. “But if we cross paths again. It shall not be as two clans of the Black Glass. It shall be as enemies.”

Sarkola grinned. “Good.”

The Ibexes regrouped and backed away from the Razor Boars, still on guard for some kind of surprise trick. But Sarkola let them walk away and his team began butchering the beaver mother for her bounties.

Faydayo led his mo’huran far from the creek, traveling northwest to put some distance between them and their rivals. The Razor Boar shaman must have felt the same thing from Maw’Goro, that the worthy tribute lies north, and sent their mo’huran in the same direction as the Ibexes. That meant there was a good chance of encountering Sarkola’s group again. And Faydayo had already committed to bloodshed when that happens.

Yuliko had sensed that there was someone watching them, and was relieved to know it wasn’t a green man. However, she wondered why Faydayo had allowed the confrontation to unfold as it had.

They eventually came to a tall and droopy willow tree where Faydayo decided to take a rest. As they all drank from their waterskins and munched on some purple swama berries they had collected on the way.

Krissa rubbed Faydayo’s shoulder as he sipped his water. “The Razor Boars are nothing but a distraction. We must not be deterred from our mission. Remember, you are the leader of a special Journey.”

“And what is our special mission, huh?” Faydayo said with probably more edge than he intended.

“We’ll discover that soon enough, I believe,” Krissa said.

Yuliko lowered her head to Faydayo once more. He tapped her. “Did you know that it was Sarkola following us?” she asked.

Faydayo nodded. “The Razor Boars have a stench to them.”

“Then why did you let them steal our hunt?” Yuliko asked. “We could have surprised them.”

“It was to give Sarkola a victory that will satisfy him,” Faydayo said. “Hopefully it was enough and he will no longer bother us.”

Yuliko was impressed. Faydayo might actually have some political talent. She lowered her head even lower. “Good thinking,” she said.

“Of course it was good thinking,” Krissa said. “He is our special leader.”

“I also wanted to know how far Sarkola was willing to take things,” Faydayo added. “And now we know. If we meet the Boars in the far lands again, we’ll have to kill them.”