Chapter 9

The Tula Tribe, one of the many small tribes that roam the vast Mahr-Kelan continent. The tribe started as a decent sized group of no more than 20 people. The group was headed by the Honorable Lakn-tula, his name meaning good hunting.

Lakn-tula lived up to his name’s sake, felling many bufan and dambi. There are even rumors that he fought a bantila alone for 3 days and 3 nights, with the battle ending in a tie. Due to his large physique and superior hunting skills, he was able to have his pick of Chosen, and so he bedded 5 women. From those 5 came the first flock of his lineage.

Lakn-tula was originally part of a large 1,000 strong tribe, but as his family grew, so did his ambitions. When his family grew to the size of 20 members, with 11 men strong including himself, he set off to start his own tribe. Fleeing the Halkan-kan tribe from which he originated, he left the Great Steppes of the North, and descended unto the Grand Eastern Forests. Here he was able to expand his tribe from a mere 20 to well over 1,000! Rivaling the tribe from whence he came.

Lakn-tula died a powerful man, with all the food and women a man could ask for. However, once he passed, things took a turn for the worst immediately. His sons took up arms against each other in pursuit of power. The smaller tribes he’d subjugated in his lifetime also took the chance to rebel and claim their independence once more. These problems, along with the lack of food, and the occasional raid for women and supplies by other tribes decimated the Tula tribe.

Many moons and many more generations have passed since the founding of the Tula tribe. The tribe still stands, but merely as a shadow, a laughable imitation of what it used to be. The once strong Tula tribe now numbers no more than 200 tribesmen, with only 60 hunters. The rest being women, children, or elderly.

The tribe has finally, after many messengers have crossed, managed to gain a foothold near a decent sized forest, but a tribulation faces them much sooner than expected, or hoped for.

“That is the situation.” Mana-tula said while addressing the group of men seated before him.

The Honorable Tula hummed before asking, “Does anyone have anything to say or to add? This is the opportunity for the clan heads to make their opinions known.”

As he looked around the room, at the well-dressed, well-fed clan leaders lower their proud heads and avert their eyes, he had only one thought:

“Cowards.”

“This…” The he began, “Is yet another tribulation that we, the Tula, must face.”

Continuing with more strength he added, “We have survived the civil wars, we have survived the raids, we have triumphed over winter and the proud beast of the Eastern Forest!”

“WE HAVE SLAIN OUR ENEMIES, WE HAVE SUBJUGATED TRIBES, WE HAVE PLUNDERED WOMEN!” He yelled roaringly.

The yurt seemed to have been filled with electricity as the clan leaders raised their heads and puffed out their chests.

“WE HAVE TRAVERSED THE GREAT STEPPES, WE HAVE BRAVED HARD RAIN AND SKY SNAKES, WE HAVE CLAIMED AN OASIS OF OUR OWN. WILL WE LET ANYONE TAKE THAT FROM US?!?!” He yelled.

“NOOOO!” All the clan heads responded while jumping from their seats.

“WE ARE STRONG, WE ARE PROUD, WE ARE MANY, WHO. ARE. WE?!?!?” The Honorable Tula asked, also leaping from his seat.

“TULA!”

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“TULA!”

“TULA!”

After the roaring and excitement died down, the chieftain began to give orders,

“Clan Heads, hear me!” He spoke.

“Awaiting orders, Honorable Tula!” The clan leaders responded.

“Reinforce the hunting parties, have scouts always active for any possible enemy raids, and be on the lookout for any smoke or other signs of tribal habitation. Have you understood.” He asked domineeringly.

“Honorable Tula has been heard!” The clan leaders responded as they rushed from the tent, high on morale.

As soon as the last clan head was gone the chieftain slumped back into his chair.

“Father, what will we do? This newest trial may be our undoing!” The chieftain sighed exasperatedly.

“Honorable Tula, I have taught you better than this, never show weakness… even to your father,” The Elder said.

“But you are right, we know nothing of the enemy this time, and with winter coming we shouldn’t go seeking problems that haven’t sought us out. We should be preparing for winter! This one seems to be a cold one, and many will perish before Mahr-Kelan awakens once more.”

“I know that Elder…I know.” The chieftain murmured silently, “However, what choice do we have?”

The men looked at each other and sighed.

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“Here is you portion of the meat Pino.” Si-ah said with a tired expression on his face.

“I don’t want it.” Pino responded with a dejected look on his face.

“If you don’t take it, I will force it down your throat. You must eat to get better; hunting has become for too hard without you.” Si-ah said, cracking a smile and trying to lighten the mood.

This, however, only made Pino feel worse. After he injured himself fighting the bufan, Si-ah had to basically drag him back to the cave. After which he immediately set out again to claim the bufan before any luck scavengers could steal the fruit of the day’s labor.

Si-ah had to push, pull, and drag the large animal hundreds of meters before he was close enough to the cave to ask the women to cut up the beast. Si-ah was dead tired and so he immediately crashed onto his fur mat, with no thoughts of talking or eating. Which left Pino in the awkward position if explaining exactly what happened.

No one berated him for his actions, but he could see it. In the way they looked at him, the coldness they used when addressing him, the barely concealed scorn they felt for him. From the women all the way down to the children. They despised him for his selfishness and his vanity, it’d endangered the continued existence of the tribe.

At first Pino thought he’d get better fast, but every time he asked the Elder to adjust his leg, or apply some herbal medicine, it only seemed to get worse. He didn’t know why! He walked on the leg regularly despite the pain to help the bone grow back stronger. He prayed to Aki every night for increased strength and the ability to persevere through this tribulation. He even prayed to the other gods, nothing worked!

Pino knew he’d never hunt again when the pain began to seize him every day. He couldn’t move his leg without trembling from the immense burden it put on his body. His leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and it was starting to become deep purple around the edges.

The tribesmen could smell his weakness, the scent of death so close to his skin. They instinctually began to avoid and ostracize him, not responding to his cries for water or food. He had to resort to dragging himself on his back towards what he needed. He didn’t blame his tribesmen, being near improper death is a bad omen and it could spread to the rest of them. They were only doing what they must.

The small reprieve he got was when in the presence of the Elder or Si-ah. They treated him as if he were just the same, although his actions forced them to take on quadruple the amount of work to support the tribe. They’d do nice things for him, like bring him food or water, take the time to talk to him, make sure he was comfortable. This killed him on the inside, it truly did.

“Keep the meat. I won’t be getting better, you know that.” Pino said while sporting a downcast grin.

“Instead, call the Elder, tell him I’m ready to return to the wilds.” He said calmly.

The smile on Si-ah’s face vanished as he asked with a serious expression, “Do you know what you are saying right now? Do you really understand what this means?”

Pino simply closed his eyes, leaned back and took a deep gulp of air, “Call the Elder.”