Chapter 32
Pino POV:
Throwing my hands up in surrender, I turned to Thamil the Older and said, “Sorry, my brother was simply anxious at the fact that I hadn’t returned in a while.”
Thamil looked at me with a mystified gaze, I stared back in confusion before I realised that I’d said a few words that likely didn’t exist in the Forest tongue, so I’d spoken in English. ‘Forest tongue? I’ll just call it Weald from now on.’ I thought.
Explaining what I meant in simpler Weald, I said, “We have talked for a long time, my brother worried for my life.”
Thamil nodded his head in understanding, but secretly he wondered, ‘Was that the native tongue of the Greater Tesr?’ Deciding to ponder upon this later, Thamil replied, “That’s understandable, he is also invited to spend the night here. However, if there is another disturbance like this… you will have to leave.”
After saying this, Thamil the Older slunk back towards his tent. Although his back was straight, I could see the tremors of pain as he walked. ‘I wonder what happened to him?’ I thought as my eyes narrowed in contemplation.
Turning to address De-lah and Thamil the Younger, I could see that Thamil’s eyes were red as he watched his father return to his tent. ‘There has to be more to this…’ That could be investigated later, for now,
“I’m so sorry for the actions of my brother.” I apologised. “Please, let's eat, drink and put this all behind us!” I said as I held up the bag I’d brought with me. The sack held two hares and a generous amount of berries.
…
The fatty smell of the two hares wafted into the air and caused the surrounding people’s mouths to water. Neither of the hares were fully cooked, but I took one of the hares off of the fire and began to cut it into chunks.
“De-lah, can you grab that clay pot and fill it with water and vegetables?” I asked
Although De-lah still had quite the bone to pick with me, his stomach allowed for no arguments as he did what I asked, filling the pot with the water, wild onions and other vegetables before placing it on one of the three fires I had going.
Attila sat at one, mixing and mashing the berries with boiling water. I manned the other two fires, roasting one of the hares, and making a stew using the other.
“What are you making?” A girl asked. Turning towards the sound, I saw little Colada standing near me, trying to peek over my shoulder at what I was doing. “I’m making a stew, little sparkling.” I responded, barely muffling another fit of laughter. Colada gave me another strange look, but her attention was quickly grabbed by Attila who’d begun pouring the rudimentary juice into a few of the clay cups we’d brought along.
“There’s only a few cups so we’ll have to share!” Attila yelled over the jeering of the children.
“This is so good!”
“It’s so sweet!”
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“What do you call this bro?”
Atilla laughed as he explained the new beverage “juice” to the children, and how to make it.
I smiled as I watched the scene play out, although it was a beautiful moment, the implications went deeper. Ingratiating ourselves with the youth, and integrating into this community is paramount to the long term success of Greater Tesr.
“Save some room for the food!” I laughed while grabbing plates and bowls and began dishing out the meal.
Another joyous uproar erupted as I faced the swarm of hungry and energetic children. When everyone was served we settled into our meals, I’m not one to brag but the stew was amazing. At least that's what the expressions of euphoria implied.
While I was busy stuffing my face, I heard a grunt from my side as Thamil the Older took a seat beside me. “Good idea.”
“Hm?” I asked.
“Well…” He responded while observing the surrounding activity, “Using food to make us owe you. Using new things to make the children love you. You and your brother are both capable hunters, so the women will rely on you. The only problem… is me. I’m the head of this tribe, the patriarch. Without my approval, everything becomes much, much more difficult for you.”
When he’d finished speaking a deep silence sank over us, his words held true. He was obviously the epicentre of the community, the final obstacle to the assimilation of these people into the Greater Tesr.
“Wha…” I said, my voice slightly shuddering, “This is the greatest opportunity your tribe may ever have. The opportunity to survive, grow, and prosper. I refuse to believe you will pass this up, for what?”
Thamil looked at me with a serious, almost grave expression. “I don’t know how truthful you’ve been. Although what you say and the new ideas you bring are… far from normal, there’s also no way for me to be sure that you aren’t offering dambi meat while a trap lies under the leaves.”
“What could I do to convince you Akii?” I responded seriously, matching his demeanour.
“Look around.” He said, slowly waving his hands to the surrounding clamour, “What do you see?” He asked.
“A group of people… women, children, growing sparklings?” I asked, confused as to why he asked such a question.
Sighing, Thamil-to responded, “What a beautiful and strange way to see people… No, what we are is a mismatched group. My son and I are from the Golden Plains, your De-lah is forest-kin, and we also have steppe folk women and umberland children! Did you ever wonder how… or why, such a strange mix of folk are gathered?”
Shocked by his revelation, I looked at the surroundings with new eyes. Being so accustomed to the diversity of New York, I completely overlooked that in this period of time, it was extremely abnormal for people so different in origin to be concentrated in one place, especially coming together as a tribe!
My eyes widened, and almost at a loss for words, I responded, “For- For me… and those of the Greater Tesr, one’s land of origin means nothing. Only that they contribute to the greater good of the whole, and don’t cause needless violence or suffering to their fellow citizens.” As I spoke my voice steadied and became slightly deeper, my confidence building with every word.
What I said is something I truly believed, racism was a large problem on Earth, and if I have the ability to change that in a new world where the lines haven’t yet been drawn, then of course I’ll try!
Thamil-to stared at me deeply, as if trying to pierce my soul, scourging for lies or any signs of deceit. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a small smile played at the edge of his lips. “If Greater Tesr truly exists is still left to be seen… but I at least believe you when you say that all people are equal in your eyes.” He said wistfully.
He sank into his ponderings, softly rubbing just below his ribs, at a spot that I assumed to be the cause of his weakness considering how gingerly he dealt with it. As he delved into thought, so did I. Although it appeared that I’d given Thamil-to a satisfactory answer, it still didn’t truly strike at the heart of the question. Why were these people from distant parts of the continent all gathered in one place? How did Thamil get injured? Why were there so few men compared to the amount of women and sparkling- children?
Just as I turned to ask Thamil-to the questions that were burning inside my chest, an ear piercing shriek of absolute terror rocked throughout the clearing.
Jumping up in alarm I reached for my spear, before swiftly remembering I’d left it with Shah-mi as a show of peace and friendliness. Instead I opted to grab the bone dagger I’d used to parse the hare and dashed in the direction that the commotion occurred.
As I rounded a tent, I was met with the sight of De-lah, Thamil-ty, and Attila, spears bristling and poised to strike, facing a group of five hunters who I’d never seen. Not while we were scoping out the Thamil clan, as I’ve chosen to call it, or during our travels toward the river.
As Thamil-to, who was following closely behind me, looked around, trying to fully grasp the situation, I asked, “Who in Aki’s name are these people?!” trying hard to suppress the confusion and panic in my voice.
Thamil-to, almost as if in reflex, clutched at the area below his ribs. “They are the reason we are here, they are the reason I’m dying. They,” He said through gritted teeth, and an abundant amount of venom “Are the Lakri, a tribe of disgusting servant-makers and maneaters!” He spat.