“Perhaps if we send a few more offerings….?” said Elder Oleander

“Offerings? No, I say we offer him a cut of the spoils.” said Head Warrior Riddle

“A cut? No I say, we ask him to lead us. Even if he takes most of the spoils, the resulting plunder would be beyond our wildest dreams…” said Elder Rover.

Alessa sat in the corner of the big tent with the other members of the ‘kids’ table, while the tribe’s Elders and Head Warriors held their meeting. It had already been three, maybe four weeks since all the tribes of the Katia Wood had gathered to destroy them.

Three maybe, four weeks, since the warband formed by those tribes was decisively and thoroughly put down. Their men set upon by creatures of colorful shadow and dark gray nothingness. The remainder were swallowed up by the roiling earth or reduced to ash by beams of bright darkness.

It had been three weeks since the Aria tribe had been pulled back from the brink of the destruction and spirits were still flying high. The ‘Lord’ of the Gray Lord’s Glen had put forth a show of force that would live on forever in the other tribes’ nightmares and in the Aria tribe’s dreams. He’d continued to deliver on the promise of their protection in the following weeks. Siccing his creatures of nothingness on any warbands that dared come back for seconds.  Or even thirds. The gray lord crushing them again and again, soundly defeating them no matter how many times they came back or how many people they sent.

Afterwards he whispered dark nothings into the trees nearest to the glen and put some of his creatures of nothingness inside their trunks. Turning those trees into watchful, ever hungering sentinels. Their bark made pale, their leaves, changing to a green that was so dark it was almost black. Their branches always rustling regardless of whether there was a breeze or not.

The trees seeming to move about, never quite in the same position as they were when you last saw them, regardless of whether that was a day ago, or a second.

The younger children loved them, their branches seemed to be just perfect for climbing, growing strong and low, and somehow there was always a few smaller branches to stop you from falling. As for Alessa she found that it was maybe slightly discomfiting to turn around and find the trees suddenly standing at your back. Almost seeming to lean in on you, like it was trying to look over your shoulder.

At night there’d be screams, high, and full of fear, but very, very short. Always cut-off midway through. Those had died down a bit. Stopping shortly after the second week, when the Lord of the Wood released a whole bunch of his creatures of nothingness, sending them out of the glen and into the woods beyond. A grand stampede of dark shadowy forms, that brought an eerie quiet to the Katia.

The tent’s flaps opened and the campfire shivered in the breeze. In walked Alma, the tribe’s ancestor and ex-wisewoman. Wearing her usual green shawl, her back stooped, despite fact that she was still only a ‘little’ weaker than the head warriors were.

She walked to head of the group, where the leaders of the tribe were speaking. She headed towards the seat that was traditionally hers. Old Elder Rodell was sitting there, but she just stared at him, continuing to stare till the old man started to fidget. Maintaining the quiet pressure till he finally moved aside.

She sat down and then she sighed, raised her staff and hit, all six senior members of the tribe.Going in alphabetical order.   Knocking the staff on their heads. She struck Head Warrior Deron, who was in charge of tribe finance, she struck Elder Olivia, the medicine woman, she struck Elder Oleander, the leader of the farmers, she struck Head Warrior Riddle, the leader of huntsman, she struck Elder Rodell, the tribe’s secretary and then she struck her great-grandson Ronan, twice. Glaring at all six of them before speaking.

“Now considering that I was the one that taught you all your letters, and the history of our tribe. I ‘know’ you young’uns are smarter than this. Still since you want to act like you’ve been donkey-kicked, I’ll treat you as such and speak slow...-ly….Now I’ve said this before at the beginning...I said it when I led us here….I said it when I made the bargain with the man who lives at the back end of the glen...the lord of this wood...I’ve said it multiple times and on multiple occasions but its okay kids.. Since you’ve seem to have forgotten.. .I’ll say it again…” said Old Alma. Her tone low and dark and unyielding. Her look fierce enough that it cowed old Rodell when he’d seemed to have been about to tell her off for striking a man of his age and position.

“The Lord of the Forest? The Sorcerer in Gray? He gave his protection with extreme reluctance. As a few of you definitely saw, I had to come here and beg, actually beg, on my knees, to get him to take us in. Do not think that this means he is our friend. Or that he is a tool. Or that you can use him in another attempt to retake the old Aria Tribe’s glory and become rulers of this wood. Do you know why? Anyone? No...okay then. Ronan, you answer, since I know you were listening when the bargain was being made.”

Ronan startled, looking like he’d been preoccupied with rubbing the bump on his head. Wearing the same look he’d had when he was just a child and she’d call on him to answer a question on maths or writing.

“Uh..Er..Yes...The summary of the Aria-Asphodel Accord States that the Aria Tribe’s safety will be guaranteed for a period of no less than one thousand years so long as A)We do not act against him and his. B)We do not act against his interest….Er... C)We do not bring trouble to his door. D) We do not try to impose our will on him. E)We do not bother him….Um... F)We do not bother him.  And G)We  relocate outwards to the edge of the glen and the settled fields and lands beyond and stay out of his inner-territories, with the exception of states of emergency and/or the case where certain individuals have been given permission to enter.” said Ronan.

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Alma nodded, a humorless, grim, smile on her wrinkled face. She looked at the group of warriors, elders and tribesmen and sighed. Determined to avoid letting history repeat itself.

Rodell spoke up.

“I understand what you’re getting at, Green Granny, but I believe if we just talk it out with him,  We’ll definitely be able to find some terms where we can-...”

Alma brought her staff down onto the ground. The sound was loud like a hammer, but it was her rising aura that silenced the old man.

“Now little Rodell, you’ve always been a  bright boy. Maybe a tad too clever for your own good, even. Tell me. How many times do the words do not bother show up in that contract?”

He scowled, looking unwilling. Looking anywhere but at the old woman who’d changed his nappies and all but raised him when the fathers of the past generation all gathered and marched to their deaths. Still he ‘was’ a grown man and he would at least ‘try’ to stand his ground.

“Rodell? No?...Fine, Olivia? ” said Alma.

“Two times.” said Oliva.

“What was that? I’m afraid I’ve gotten a tad old and hard of hearing. Could you please repeat that, and say it a little louder.” said Alma.

“Do not bother him, makes ups two of the seven terms of the accord.” said Elder Oliva. The tribe’s current Medicine Woman. With her and family being responsible for the health of the tribe. Speaking up quickly because ten years of apprenticing under the fierce old granny had taught her that being slow to answer would only earn her another knock on the noggin.

“Ah...Very good. But also wrong. Can anyone tell me why?” said Alma.

Alma around the tent again, then sighed, like the exasperated school teacher that she ultimately was.

“Okay then, let's try someone from the junior class. Alessa, come here, my sweet. Tell these old salts, how many times we are asked to leave the lord of the forest be.”

Alessa, startled, heart hammering. Public speaking was hard enough for her. Hell, ‘private’ speaking was hard enough for her. Not to mention doing so in front of all the leaders and adults of the tribe. She got up and walked over her steps wooden. Her thoughts sluggish and hard to grasp.

Alma saw it, but could only tut and hope that the girl eventually got over the weakness. As it would be important for the tribe’s future. While young Alessa could not be her heir, if Alma had her way the girl ‘would’ be one of the tribe’s leaders.

“Now dear, tell everyone how many times we are told ‘not to bother’ the forest lord.”

“S-..seven times,  Grandmother Alma.” said Alessa.

“How many times is that again, Dear?” said Alma.

“S-..seven times.”

“Yes, seven times. Would you elaborate dear?” said Alma. Quietly pitying the stage-shy child, while still refusing to go easy on her.

“The first term asks that we don’t actively bother him. The second terms asks that we don’t get in the way of his work. The third term asks that we don’t try make him ‘do’ anything. The fourth term asks we don’t do bring him any additional trouble. The fifth and sixth terms, plainly ask that we do not bother him. And the seventh term lends us the farmlands and fields he established outside of the inner-glen in return for our staying away from his house.” said Alessa.

Alma was both pleased with explanation and the fact that the girl had seemed to become less stiff as she’d continued to speak.

“Yes. Exactly. In short, while it might be a bit much to say he doesn’t want anything to do with us. I do feel it prudent to say, ‘he doesn’t want anything to do with us’. The Lord of this Wood agreed to take us in with great reluctance and while we are now all living in perfect safety. With the pall of fear that we knew in generations past finally vanquished. Our position here is not as settled as you think. This initial accord is a fragile thing and it's very easy for him to leave us and drop us right back where we started or worse...especially considering how many of the other tribes’ people were recently lost. Please think on this before considering any new harebrained schemes.” said Old woman Alma. Bowing politely before standing and walking back out of the tent. Leaving all of the Aria tribe’s leaders sitting in uneasy silence.

A silence that was broken by Elder Rodell rubbing the bump on his head and sighing. His thick mustache twitching.

“Okay, okay...So maybe it’s too soon to aim for the rest of the wood. But I still think we can figure this out somehow...So long as the accord holds we’re the most powerful tribe in the Katia. No one can touch us, no one can stop us. And you all heard the old bird. This is just the initial accord. The relationships still shallow. Let's see about making it a little deeper. Afterwards then…*heh-heh*...we’ll see what happens then, yes?”