Chapter 12

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“Clan leader,” A warrior whispered, “why are we waiting here for, when the enemies are more than 2 runs (kilometers) in front of us?”

Clan leader Tala-il of the Honorable Tula Tribe, when the weighty responsibility of defending the tribe from adversaries was suddenly thrust forth, he picked it up without hesitation. However, the reception he received for his bravery and loyalty to the tribe left him deeply dissatisfied.

His clan was just too busy patrolling, they had to maintain the security of the tribe from when Aki’s grace rose, and even throughout the great dark. His clansmen were worn thin by the constant cycles of defense and patrols. When they were given even a moment of rest of course the men would sleep! A consequence of this is that they never went out hunting, and even if they did, prey was always in short supply during the winter. The only thing that would be accomplished by sending the clan’s hunters out into the harsh cold for prey, is to add a few bodies to the infinite expanse of snow.

The community feast was the only respite, a congregation of meat, herbs, furs, and hides, openly available to any tribesman in need. The feast is managed and guarded by the Tula hunters to ensure that everyone remains honest and fair. The feast has saved many of the smaller clans and families from starvation during rough times, and now it’s the lifeline of the Il’ clan. Without it, both him and his clansmen would’ve long returned to the wilds.

Still… it simply isn’t enough, the cold bites more deeply and fastens more tightly to the young and old. How can you expect anyone to defend something with all their heart whilst their parents starve, their children freeze, and their Chosen weep? The lack of resources has plagued the Il’ clan because every clansman knew, without the responsibility of protecting the tribe, they wouldn’t be struggling at all. The lack of support from the tribe, and the ‘Honorable Il’s’ apparent submissiveness during Moon-gatherings has caused much unrest amongst the clansmen.

Luckily the enemy came when they did… if the Il’ clan eradicated the threat now, there would no longer be a state of emergency, which means less patrols, and more time to hunt. Every problem that currently ailed the clan would be washed away by the blood of the enemies.

The thought of this brought a deep-smile to Tana-il’s face as he cheerily answered his son, “Listen well boy,” he whispered, for fear of his voice traveling on the wind to the ears of the enemies. “If we meet them in the open field, they may run, or even worse, strike many of us down. However, if they fall into our trap, we can fell many of them without taking a single loss. Do you understand?” he asked, the shine of wisdom and intrigue gleaming in his eyes.

The boy hesitated a bit, before mumbling, “But only cowards don’t face their enemies face to face…”

Tana-il snapped his head towards his son whilst simultaneously grabbing the boys’ neck, “Listen well ‘clansman’” he hissed, “All are beast in the eyes of Aki, just as the bantila stalks its prey, the winged ones target the young bantila, and the land dragons swallow sleeping birds, we too must use every advantage given to us when we hunt. The men we shall soon kill are also beast, and any experienced hunter will tell you that killing a beast before it understands its in danger is the best way to hunt!” After finishing his quiet rant, Tana-il released his son, noticing that the kid was having trouble breathing.

Stolen story; please report.

“Do you understand?” he asked again.

“Yes, Honorable Il’…” the boy responded despondently.

After that the small hill sunk into silence, the only sounds being the bated breath of the two men, as snowflakes cascaded towards the ground.

“I hate to treat the kid so harshly, but he will one day head the clan! If he is too focused on honor and appearing strong, the clan is doomed! It’s best to root out the issues now…” Tana-il pondered, slowly sinking deeper into his thoughts as time wore on.

The men didn’t have to wait long, as the familiar crunch of hide and fur boots hitting the snowy ground echoed in the surroundings. Tana-il slowly creeped forward, till only his eyes crested the hill, investigating the valley below and the unsuspecting men within it, marching forth.

“Two hands of men!” Tana-il said, breathing in sharply, he’d only brought about a hand and a half of men with him. Believing that this would only be the first skirmish of many before the actual confrontation. He glanced at his son who also looked at him with urgency in his eyes, “This son, is why we prepare.”

Due to their position on the hill, the Il’ clan had a small advantage over the enemy tribesmen, and Tana-il had every intention to use it.

Using small hand signals, he conveyed the plan to his clansmen. Once he was sure they all understood the plan, he swiftly rose from his laying position and crested the hill, throwing spear in hand.

Like a wave, his clansmen did the same. Then as one, they took aim and loosed their spears upon an unsuspecting enemy.

‘FWOOSH’ ‘FWOOSH’ ‘FWOOSH’

The spears rushed downhill, thirsty for the blood of man, two of the spears struck true. One of them struck deeply into the ear of a hunter, piercing his brain, tearing it to mash then peaking through the other side of his head. Allowing the stew that was now his brain to leak through the new opening as he dropped to the ground. Another spear catapulted through the abdomen of another enemy, eliciting an extreme blood curdling scream as the man fell to the ground in agony. As he fell forward, the spear pushed out of the man as it contacted the ground, causing the pained man to groan and shiver.

His contents quickly seeped from his body to the ground. Lighting the pristine white canvas with a scarlet dot that quickly grew as the snow melted from the sheer heat of his blood. Before any of the surprised tribesmen could react, another salvo of spears pierced their ranks, ripping another three tribesmen asunder, and sending them to feast with Aki.

“@#%^&#&” The leader of the small band said, apparently trying to organize his men to salvage the situation.

Tana-il heard this and muttered, “steppe folk.”

Each of the Great Regions had a mostly common language, and although the meaning of specific words, and certain dialects made understanding each other hard at times, there was at least a baseline of understanding. However, for those who weren’t of a certain region, other than their appearance the most glaring difference was the language they spoke.

The Tula tribe originally being from the steppe, and the Il’ tribe having followed the Tula tribe since the beginning, Tana-il could understand what they were saying to an extent. His heart hardened. The steppe folk were known for their warlike nature, and unwillingness to concede if not thoroughly beaten.

“MEN!” Tana-il exclaimed as he bound his final spear to his hands and looked at the recouping enemies below. “CHAAARGEEEE!!!”