Chapter 11
My body stiffened…
In all my time here, from when I first built this house, when winter first set, even when Teddy stole my food, never once was there such a loud disturbance directly at my doorstep.
As quietly as I could, I slinked towards my spears that I had stacked against the wall.
As I silently made my way across the rather small room, I thanked my inner decorator for deciding to furnish the clay floors with animal furs. The padding made for an amazing muffler.
Finally, with the firm and weighty spear in my hand, I had time to think.
I poised myself to the right side of the door, the direction it would swing in. If some starved animals were to barge in, I’d at least have a couple of seconds to analyze the situation before engaging the enemy.
‘What if it’s a person?’ A small part of me asked in dread.
If there were people trying to invade my home… what would I do?
In both my last life as well as this current one, as far as I know of, I’ve never taken a life.
‘Will I be able to do it? If not, what will happen to me?’ I wonder.
Deciding to shove any unnecessary thoughts to the back of my head, I settle my mind into a preparatory silence.
The fire crackled as time passed slowly. The only sounds disrupting the otherwise serene night were the frosty wind, the roaring fire, and my shallow breaths.
What felt like an eternity had elapsed, but less than five minutes had passed. Within this span of time, both my fear and curiosity reached their peak.
On one hand, it was entirely possible that a wayward branch had slammed against the door. It was also possible that some distraught and freezing dambi or skny, this world’s birds, collapsed here.
Those were only the good options…
The only predator that stalks so silently is the bantila, if a bantila has set its eyes on me, I’m as good as dead. If I stay in my home, it’s only a matter of time until I run out of food and water. While if I go outside, there’s a more than decent chance it’ll be waiting for an opportune time to take my life.
That isn’t even the worse outcome, if the danger is human, then all the worse. From what I understand, I’m extremely deep in this forest. If humans have happened upon my cabin, that means they are here deliberately.
Which begs the question: “What do they want? How many of them are there? Are they armed? Why haven’t they announced themselves?”
The string of questions bounced and echoed within my mind as I firmed myself to make a decision.
Just as carefully as when I grabbed my spear, I made my way to the fireplace. Picking up a piece of firewood, I held it to the fire until it caught alight. Now, with a torch in one hand, and a spear poised in the other, I made my way to the door.
“Hello?” I shouted through the door, making myself sound as gruff and mature as possible.
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I waited, but no reply sounded back.
“HELLO!” I yelled louder.
The only response was the howling wind.
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“The Once-a-moon report may now begin.” Mana-tula said to the surrounding family heads.
There was a small rustling about as all the family heads respectfully took their seats. The decorum amongst the Tula tribe is for the Elder to speak on behalf of the Honorable Tula, and for the family heads to communicate their reports and thoughts to the Elder. The Honorable Tula only spoke to deescalate situations, deliver a verdict on an issue, or to deliver his commands.
This system was put in place due to there being a few incompetent leaders amongst the Honorable Tula lineage who’d made fools of themselves during the monthly and quarterly meetings. A more experienced and smoother talker would be the mouthpiece, while the Chieftain would only need to yell occasionally.
This arrangement obviously gave the Elder, whoever that may be, a lot of power and influence within tribal politics, which is why its essential to choose a trustworthy man to take up the mantle of Elder. For Sama-tula, the current Honorable Tula, he chose his father, Mana-tula, just as Mana-tula had chosen his own father when he became the Honorable Tula. This system only works if the previous Honorable Tula resigns whilst still of a good age to help direct his son in the ways of politics. The effects of an Honorable Tula refusing to relinquish his power has yet to be seen, but that’s a story for another time…
“Reporting to the Elder,” A lanky man said while slowly standing up. “My clan has been on patrol duty ensuring the safety of the tribe from enemies, both bestial and Aki-blessed alike.” The man said somberly, while pausing for effect, “Due to this we have spent less time hunting, and the share we receive from the communal feast isn’t enough to feed the entirety of my clan! As such, we request more meat and hides from the communal feast, so that my clansmen may survive this winter. If not, then we will be forced to relinquish these duties to a clan better suited to handle the task.” After looking deeply at the Elder, the man took his seat, a small frown plastered on his face.
Immediately other clan heads leaped up to rebuke his small speech and demands.
“Who doesn’t know that your clan receives just about everything the communal feast has to offer?!?! What about our youth? Our old? Our sick? Do they no longer matter? This is the Long Cold, every clan and tribe across all of Mahr-Kelan understands that a few will die during these times. What makes you and your clansmen so much better than ours that only you will take no losses this time, while the rest of us suffer!” An overweight clan head yelled.
“As he said! He’s right, who do you think you are? All you do is patrol; it is our men who go into the cold and dangerous forest to find prey to eat!” A chorus of the other clan leaders sang and jeered.
“You don’t seem to be suffering at all ‘Honorable Clan Head’” The lanky clan leader sneered while looking the fat man up and down, a deep fury barely concealed behind his eyes. Although his clan hadn’t been the ones at the forefront hunting, how was that his fault?!?! When the Honorable Tula asked who’d take up more patrols, who’d risk the lives of their men for the tribe, not a single clan head was willing.
None other than him and his 12 men, his clan was strong, making up almost a third of all the hunters within the Tula tribe. When danger came knocking it was only right that he and his clan rose to the challenge, for the sake of the tribe. But what was this, this betrayal? How dare these fat, cowardly, and deceptive snakes dare challenge his clan’s right to survival? If an enemy tribe were to attack right now, his men would throw down their lives for the tribe. Other than sticking their heads up their asses, what would these spineless fools do? No, today his clan would either get their just due, or another clan would take up responsibility for protecting the tribe.
When everyone heard the words of the lanky clan head, the tent went pin-drop silent. Being fat in a hunter-gatherer society was one of the biggest possible shames if you weren’t an Elder. It meant that you enjoyed the bounty of the tribe while not working towards its betterment. Afterall, how could a hunter, gatherer, or caretaker possibly become that big with all the responsibilities they handle every day?
“Say that again…” The larger man whispered in a cold and venomous tone.
The lanky man, not to be outdone, slowly stood up and said steadily, “You. Are. A. Fat. Fu-”
Just as the Honorable Tula was about to stop this drama before it escalated to a level that’d be hard to come back from, a commotion outside the tent drew the attention of everyone.
“HONORABLE TULA!” A man said as he ran into the tent and greeted the Chieftain.
“Speak!” Sama-tula snapped, “And if I don’t see your words as worthy enough reason for this intrusion, prepare for punishment.”
“Of course, Honorable Tula.” The man said, taking the time that Sama-tula was speaking to catch his breath and gain his bearings, “Enemy hunters, they are 2 kilometers away and swiftly approaching!”