The nomads continued their journey, this time towards the north-west. They found no prey. They could only collect the typical berries —few and dried—, some honey, and a few overripe nuts. The entire tribe was hungry, and the children wouldn’t stop crying.

The midday heat, stifling, forced them to stop, and at dusk, they resumed the march, almost without strength. Near nightfall, they inspected some traps they had set a few days ago, and only one of them had caught something: a miserable rabbit that went entirely to the children, who were the only ones who had dinner that night.

As if that wasn’t enough, they had moved quite far from the oasis and barely had any water. Some suggested returning to it, perhaps taking advantage of what the wolves might have left. But Ulla, the sorceress, had another ‘vision’ and forced the tribe to march southeast, towards a pasture that extended over a small plain not far from the cave. The men protested because there was no water there, but the old woman insisted, and at dawn, everyone went there.

When they arrived, nearing midday, their water supplies had run out, and the sorceress said, ‘dig here’. The men dug for a while, and at about two or three cubits deep... they found water.

The liquid quenched their thirst and momentarily distracted them from hunger, if only because it filled those empty stomachs.

Afterwards, they stopped to rest with the aim of continuing in the afternoon, and groups formed among the tribe members. As always, Umma and Tabal were separated from the others, by Unnum’s explicit order: no man was to approach her except her guardian. Only Kara, her stepmother, appeared there from time to time, as long as her three children allowed her.

“What happened between you and Samman?” the girl asked.

“He never told you?”

“We only know that he fell out with Unnum over a betrayal. The tribe split in two, and only three men followed him, with their women.”

“Well, they weren’t exactly his women. In fact, Samman left his behind and took Unnum’s, who were ‘better’. Younger, you know.”

“Now I understand what Ulla said when she killed him: ‘You won’t steal women from anyone else again.’”

“Exactly. That was one of the reasons why he hated him so much.”

“But those... did they go willingly?”

“They were almost children. I suppose Samman seemed stronger to them, and he actually was. Besides, they were fed up with Ulla and her paranormal obsessions. That woman is a witch, for real.”

“Indeed, she is. She’s... sinister.”

“Not just that. She instigated the two brothers to fight.”

“When was this?”

“Well, actually, it all started much earlier when Calem, the brothers’ father, died. The two sons wanted to be chiefs, and Samman defeated Unnum in a fight, breaking some of his bones. He took control of the tribe, but that wasn’t enough: some of his women betrayed him.”

“Of course, you can’t control a tribe if you don’t have the women on your side.”

“Exactly. They hid their weapons while he slept and almost killed him, if it weren’t for some men who defended him and had to fight to save their lives. In the end, he had no choice but to escape.”

“The typical rivalry between women.”

“That’s right. When I have a wife, I’ll have only her. I’ve seen what happens when you have more than one.”

“Wouldn’t you take another wife if one was offered to you? If you liked her more than the one you already have?”

Tabal smiled and looked directly at Umma.

“If I genuinely like the wife I have, I won’t need any more,” he asserted, then looked away with a bitter expression. Then he asked, “Do you know what happened to them? To the women Samman took, I mean.”

“They weren’t with him when we arrived. I think they were stolen by another tribe.”

“Yeah, the usual. What a cruel world...”

“You wouldn’t steal other men’s women, would you? If you liked one more than the one you have?”

“Me? Never. It’s something that disgusts me. I follow Unnum and obey him because I have no choice.”

“Just for that?”

“Not just. He treated me well when I was a child.”

“Are you Unnum’s son?”

“No. I never got to know my parents.”

“What happened?

“I barely remember. I must have been... I don’t know... two or three seasons old at most. It was because of the volcano.”

“What volcano?”

“Of course. You must have been in the north around that time. But not far from here, there was a massive eruption... an entire mountain exploded and flooded the area with lava. The entire land to the west was devastated, and it seems like my parents must have died there. I only remember the heat, the smoke, the ashes... and also Unnum, who picked me up and took me with him when his father was still alive. Around that time, he didn’t have sons yet and treated me as if I were his own. His wife, Masha, has been like a mother to me.”

“Masha? Do you mean the one who has taken care of Sudda’s son, the woman who died the day you found us?”

“Yes, her. She fell out of favour when Unnum preferred Ladda, and now she’s unhinged. The chief is not the same as before, and he despises the children he had with her. In fact, she doesn’t sleep with him anymore.”

“What a sad destiny for her.”

“Indeed. But now Ladda sees her ‘throne’ in jeopardy if Unnum becomes infatuated with your companion, his new wife. What’s her name? Thura?”

“Yes. Do you think it will happen?”

“What?”

“That Ladda will suffer the same fate as Masha, and her children will also be despised.”

“Most likely. Unnum has always preferred young wives.”

“How harsh life is!” Umma sighed. “When it’s not the dangers of nature, we create problems for ourselves.”

“That’s how it is,” he nodded, looking away. “And this tribe is one of the worst.”

“All tribes are like that, Tabal. At least, you were lucky.”

“Me? Don’t believe it. At first, Ulla wanted to sacrifice me.”

“Oh, really?”

“It’s the custom. Whenever someone is found or when a tribe expands through conquest, a sacrifice has to be made to the gods. You know, the tribe increases its resources, and the gods have to take their share as tribute. As gratitude, so to speak. And since I was the only one they found, there was no other candidate.”

“And what happened? Did Unnum convince her not to do it?”

“No. On the night before the full moon, Ulla had a dream. Baloc told her not to kill me because I was a survivor, and as such, I would bring survival to the tribe.”

“Wow! Another talisman, like me.”

“Yes, it could be. That’s why Ulla gave me this name, Tabal. I was so shaken by the volcano that I couldn’t even remember my own name.”

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“What does it mean?”

“Tabal? It means Baloc’s protégé.”

“But wouldn’t that be ‘Ta-Baloc’?”

“No. That would mean ‘to protect Baloc’,” he replied. “In our language, to express possession, the name loses its last syllable.”

“Ah! That’s right, I forgot. I still don’t handle your language well.”

“Oh, no, I think you handle it very well, Umma. For only knowing it for three seasons, you speak it as well as I do.”

The girl shrugged, and he added, “That’s a sign that you’re very intelligent.”

“Thanks,” she replied, looking away. “Perhaps the two languages are similar.”

“I don’t think so. When I hear you talking to Kara, I don’t understand anything. I don’t understand a word. Other times we’ve seen other people, but we’ve been able to communicate.”

“Of course, because you all belong to the ‘Samo’ people, the people who have always lived here.”

“That’s right. Which are your people, then?”

“The ‘Kuru’ people. Tradition says that our origin is far away, in the north-east, and for some reason we went west, but always in the north. Until a few of us came down to the south and met Samman.”

“The Kuru people... is that why your stepmother is called Kara?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. Then she asked:

“Hey, Tabal, do you think I’ll be that lucky? I mean, the luck you had. Do you think Ulla will regret her decision to kill me?”

“Hopefully!” he replied, with a wish that came from the depths of his heart. “But it’s impossible,” he lamented. “Since then, she hasn’t lifted the sentence of anyone, especially not a woman.”

“Why not a woman?”

“Women are more valuable than men. Just look at what happened with your tribe. Men’s lives aren’t valuable, and we kill them all. But not women.”

“Only for that?” she was offended. “Are we more valuable because one can have a larger harem?”

“Not just for that. The more women a tribe has, the larger it will be, as they will have more children. A tribe with many men and only one woman, for example, will never grow.”

“I see,” she understood. “But then I don’t get it, Tabal. If women are more valuable, why sacrifice them? Why sacrifice me?”

“Exactly for that reason. The greater the value of what is sacrificed, the more inclined the gods will be to help us. You are the most valuable thing we have, and in this way, Ulla hopes to please Baloc and get him to send us rain,” he explained. Tabal couldn’t understand how Umma didn’t know these things. “Didn’t you have sacrifices in your tribe?”

“Only animals. Our sorceress said that human sacrifices, far from pleasing God, repel him.”

“Oh…,” he was surprised.

“But do you believe that?” Umma continued. “Do you believe that if I die, you will live better?”

“No. I don’t believe that. Baloc couldn’t have created something as wonderful as you are,” he looked at her tenderly, “just to die so young.”

She smiled and stroked his cheek. Then she said:

“But then, why did Baloc tell her during that trance, that I had to die?”

“Who knows!” he shrugged. “Maybe it wasn’t Baloc. Maybe it was some other god, or even a demon. Or it could have been her imagination. That old woman is crazy. It’s a shame that our fate is in the hands of a person like her.”

“Indeed,” she replied. “Anyway,” she wondered, “I don’t understand, Tabal. If you’re so unhappy here, why don’t you leave?”

“Where would I go?” he replied. “It’s already difficult to survive as part of a tribe... so being alone... But don’t think I haven’t thought about it. It’s an idea that crosses my mind... often.”

At that moment, one of the men who was on an elevation watching over the camp came running and said:

“The aurochs!”

“Where?” asked Unnum.

“Behind that hill,” he pointed. “If we surround it well, we could corner it in a small ravine behind.”

“Let’s go!” ordered the chief.

All the men jumped instantly and grabbed their weapons. If they managed to hunt that animal, hunger would end.

When they arrived, the beast was grazing on the sparse grass in a small hollow. All the men positioned themselves around it and began to approach slowly.

The aurochs, a giant gleaming in the sun, almost taller than a man, sensed the presence of the hunters and raised its head, sniffing the air with its wide nostrils. Its horns measured more than two cubits and were as thick at the base as a child’s leg.

The beast let out a snort that echoed through the valley like the war cry of a hundred warriors, but it didn’t deter the hunters, who kept stealthily and determinedly approaching.

Before they were within spear range, the giant beast charged towards one of them. The warrior waited as his companions ran to join him. When the creature was close enough, he hurled his spear with all his might towards the neck, but it hit the skull and didn’t stick. However, it left the animal stunned for a moment, and the others used to throw their spears at its side. Only two of them lodged into its back as the creature thrashed.

The aurochs kept running with the spears embedded, fiercely colliding with two men who were sent flying, crashing with a muffled thud. The uncontrollable animal ran towards Unnum, Ator, and Tabal, who were in a poorly defended position. The chief managed to thrust a third spear into its hindquarters, slowing it down a bit. The beast, weighing as much as ten men, continued charging towards them. Ator, perhaps intentionally, hindered the chief’s movements, leaving him exposed to the animal, which had him ready to be rammed with its horns. Unnum stumbled, losing his other spear, and was trapped against a rock wall, just ten steps away from the creature.

He would have surely died if Tabal hadn’t stepped between him and the beast, diverting its attention. The manoeuvre succeeded in slowing it down, and that was Tabal’s intention. The young man was ready, holding his spear firmly. When the animal reached him, the weapon was waiting, and its own weight drove it through the neck to the heart. The aurochs roared, echoing through the hills before collapsing and shaking the ground. Ator followed, driving his spear into the animal, as did the others.

Unnum got up and embraced the young man with tears in his eyes, shooting a cold glance at the one-eyed man, who, however, seemed unfazed and joined the men celebrating the significant victory.

Once the danger had passed, the whole tribe gathered around the dead animal, celebrating with joy and embracing each other.

It took quite some time before the still excited chief addressed Tabal, silencing the tribe so he could be heard.

“Hey, my young friend!” he exclaimed ecstatically. “You saved my life and maybe the lives of many others. It’s customary to grant a woman to those who distinguish themselves in war, but I want to make an exception for you.”

The boy’s heart started pounding, and he looked towards Umma, who also gazed at him anxiously. At that moment, Ulla tugged at Unnum’s sleeve and whispered something to him, and he nodded in response. The chief continued:

“From now on, I grant you Kara, who will no longer be Ator’s woman but will become your wife.”

“What?” the one-eyed man shouted. “Kara is mine!”

“Ah! Now you’re interested? You didn’t seem to like her much when I first offered her to you.”

“She’s mine, Unnum!” he bellowed. “You can’t take her away from me!”

“She was!” he emphasised. “Now she belongs to Tabal.”

The young man looked at the disgruntled husband and made a face as if to say, “It’s not my fault…”. But Ator immediately confronted the chief, grabbing his arm and bringing his single eye close to his face:

“You have no right. Do you hear me? No right!”

Unnum shook off that hand with fury and muttered under his breath:

“Should have put more effort, one-eyed. Maybe I would’ve given you one of mine if you had been the one to save my life.”

“Give one of yours to the boy if you owe him that much,” he whispered fiercely.

“If I owe it to him, it’s because you took it from me earlier. You know what I mean.”

The chief couldn’t forgive Ator for leaving him exposed to the aurochs, probably on purpose. The two held each other’s gaze for a moment, and finally, the one-eyed man said:

“This won’t end here, Unnum.”

Afterwards, the tribe feasted heartily on the animal’s meat, starting with the softest parts, the organs, as they are harder to preserve. Next, they cooked all the remaining meat and smoked the rest to make it last longer. Before nightfall, Unnum’s clan headed towards the caves, where they would store the precious provisions in a small pit lined with aromatic leaves to ward off insects. The food would last them a good number of days before it spoiled.

During the journey, Unnum’s decision to take Ator’s new wife for Tabal was the talk of the tribe, and they couldn’t stop discussing what had happened.

The one-eyed man travelled alone, at the rear, with a face that told a whole story. Lura, the one-eyed man’s wife and mother of his children, seemed happier. Kara walked with her children beside Umma and her new husband, who didn’t seem very pleased despite everything. The girl wasn’t happy either, and she had a long conversation with her stepmother on the way to the caves. A conversation that was meaningless to Tabal since the two women spoke in their own language.

At dusk, they reached the promontory where their usual residence stood, the karst massif where water had carved spaces over ages in which they now lived.

As always, a fire was lit at the cave entrance, and some men lit torches and entered first to check for any lurking beasts. They explored all the nooks, and once it was confirmed there was no danger, the others entered. The women stored the provisions and then went to their respective chambers, where their husbands were happily waiting.