The Index -|-

Kpleeb rested in the hut and thought about his conversations with Chief Kilow and Bre.

Chief Kilow seemed grateful, and Bre appeared to accept the idea of trading food for knowledge. What can we teach her? Math maybe.

He remembered his math lessons in the caves. Thoka had always been so much smarter than him, especially at math. As he looked back now, he realized that despite the significance of his changes, Thoka had always outpaced him.

I could only count to eight! He grimaced with personal embarrassment and tried to re-center his thoughts.

Maybe I should speak to the smartest caveperson in this village in order to determine a baseline. It might help know what to teach them.

“Kpleeb!” The cry came from outside.

Kpleeb stood and went to the door of the hut. A hand swept the reeds away from the door, and he saw Bre’s face peering in.

“Aytsik gone,” Bre said as Kpleeb followed her outside and around the huts.

“What’s an Eyetseek?”

“Pale warrior.”

They approached the spot where Kpleeb had knocked out the pale warrior. Molk was there with Chief Kilow and a few of Molk’s warriors. The Aytsik was gone. Molk turned abruptly toward Kpleeb and raised a huge fist.

“Where Aytsik?!” he bellowed.

“Molk, calm,” said Chief Kilow. “Kpleeb smash Aytsik, then in hut with Kilow.”

“True,” said Bre. “Aytsik always gone.” She nodded assertively at Molk. “Kpleeb protect cavechildren. I see.”

Molk scoffed and looked at Kpleeb. “Puny caveman.” His biceps flexed in a momentary challenge of Kpleeb’s cavemanhood.

Kpleeb looked around. He could see the scuffs in the dirt where he had fought the pale warrior, but there was no blood or any other sign that there had been a body there. He looked in all directions to find an escape path. On one side were the huts that surrounded the village center, and on the other side was the jungle.

It would be easy to hide in there… But how did he awake and escape so quickly? Kpleeb felt pretty certain that the pale warrior had been unconscious when they had gone to the hut. He sighed audibly and shrugged.

“He must have awakened while we were talking.”

“Aytsik come back,” stated Molk. “Must eat, heal.” He wiped blood off a cut on his arm.

“I can help you,” said Kpleeb. “Let me fight with you.”

Chief Kilow nodded. “Women get water and food. Come sit, talk.” She waved at Molk who was still sputtering over Kpleeb’s offer to fight.

Kpleeb followed Chief Kilow as she led the way to a circle of thick logs set around fire pit. He had seen the cavepeople converse here many times, but had never been invited to participate. When Molk, Bre, Kilow, and a handful of other cavemen and cavewomen had seated themselves on the logs, shallow, clay bowls of water were handed out. That was followed up by tubers, and a spicy, fibrous vegetable that made Kpleeb drink more water.

“Molk,” said Chief Kilow, “need more warrior. Aytsik strong.”

Molk grumbled loudly around a mouthful. “Aytsik more strong today.”

It sounded like a statement of fact to Kpleeb. “Are the Aytsik not usually so strong?”

Molk stared at him with contempt. “Aytsik strong. Molk crush.” He bounced his peck muscles and slapped the warrior beside him on the back.

Chief Kilow nodded toward Kpleeb. “Kpleeb right. Aytsik strong today. Molk lose many warrior. Molk need favor of Qui.”

“Qui not help,” muttered Molk. He lifted a bowl and sloshed water into his wide mouth. “Warriors watch for Aytsik.”

Kpleeb ate and drank quietly, and for the moment, he felt like he was partially accepted. Molk seemingly only spoke when he wanted to brag or put someone else down. He watched as Molk ate and Bre and Chief Kilow conversed together quietly.

After a few moments, a warrior ran up. He was limping. “Molk, Aytsik attack now.” The young man pointed toward the canyon and paused to take a drink out of a waiting bowl.

Everyone seated jumped to their feet, and the warriors hefted their spears. Kpleeb looked at Bre and Chief Kilow, but Bre motioned downward with her palm, and so he remained silent. In a moment all of the warriors had run toward the fight.

“Kpleeb, fight with us. Come,” said Chief Kilow. She gestured with her hand, and he followed her. She reached a hut and grabbed three clubs as long as Kpleeb’s arm. Handing one of them to Kpleeb, she nodded curtly. “Need Qui. Big fight today.”

Bre took one of the clubs and nodded gravely at Kpleeb. “Protect cavechildren.”

“I will fight. You lead the way.” Kpleeb felt the weight of the club in his hand. It had a bulbous knot on the very end that would do some nasty damage if directed to the right spot of flesh. He turned and saw the battle drawing closer to the village as Molk and his warriors were slowly forced back. A pale figure came out of the trees behind the hut to his right.

Kpleeb ran after the figure and found that it was very quick. He saw it a dozen steps ahead of him bounding over branches, rocks, and other obstacles before it veered around the corner of a hut. Kpleeb knew that the village center was around that corner. That was where the cavechildren and women were gathered. He sprinted around the next corner and saw the group of women with clubs facing the pale figure.

The Aytsik slowed and stalked sideways around the shifting group of women and children.

Kpleeb quietly tried to remain behind the pale figure and out of its sight. As though to help him, several of the women began to howl at the warrior and bang their various clubs and sticks on the ground at their feet.

The Aytsik laughed and twitched its long, springy spear once, twice, and then the third time, the spear stuck in the leg of one of the cavewomen.

She cried out in pain, and the other cavewomen jumped forward in unison and began clubbing the Aytsik from every angle.

Kpleeb ran forward and swung his club where he could. Several of his strikes landed, and soon, the Aytsik turned and ran toward the trees. Kpleeb followed as fast as he could run, but the pale warrior parkoured over everything and soon disappeared into the jungle. Though he searched for a few minutes, he saw no sign that anyone had passed by. It seemed strange to him that someone who had been so severely beaten could move with that speed and agility.

Finally, he gave up and returned to the village. There he discovered that the fighting had breached the line of huts that created the inner boundary of the village. Molk and a handful of his warriors were fighting viciously between the cavechildren and a horde of Aytsik. Kpleeb ran to the frontlines and began to swing his club in a wide figure-eight. He began breathing hard almost immediately.

Molk grunted nearby and guffawed loudly when he saw Kpleeb. His club crushed a pale warrior’s ribcage, but as the figure faded back into the ranks, another one took its place. Molk kept swinging with gusto.

“Fight, weakling!” yelled Molk at Kpleeb. “No die!”

Kpleeb remained silent as he breathed heavily through clenched teeth. He swung time after time, and his arm muscles burned with the effort. Spears penetrated his personal space over and over. Some of them nicked and scratched him. Blood ran down his legs in thin lines. Soon he stepped back to avoid a sharp stick and stepped on a foot. He glanced behind him quickly and saw Bre there with a club, and behind her the cavechildren huddled.

“Look!” Bre yelled. She raised her arm and lashed out with her club. She swatted a spear out of the air next to Kpleeb’s head.

Kpleeb flinched involuntarily and turned back toward the fray. The situation had become worse that he imagined. They were down to very few cavepeople and a few cavechildren. Hope was almost completely gone, but the Aytsik kept coming. He could see no end to their pale figures. The looks on their faces were almost deadpan as they moved in and jabbed incessantly at the villagers.

A warrior next to Kpleeb cried out with a piercing scream and fell to the ground. Blood pulsed out of a wound in his neck and Kpleeb stared down at him in horror. He had never personally experienced a battle where there was real and lasting death so close. Bre stepped into the gap and swung her club down onto the head of an Aytsik warrior. The figure fell backward and was pulled away by grasping pale hands.

Molk grunted as he was speared in the arm. He grasped the spear and ripped it from his flesh and then proceeded to punch the spear’s original owner in the face with its butt several times. As before, the figure bloodied and fell back into waiting pale hands.

Kpleeb feared for his life.

His breath rose and fell with his chest and his arms. His club struck out in a steady rhythm. His feet became entirely bloody, and his hearing was muted with the sound of rushing blood and adrenaline.

A sound rose in the distance. It was a deep thrumming that was felt through the soles of the feet of those who fought in the village center. It was subtle at first, and Kpleeb did not notice.

The pale warriors noticed quickly, but their actions did not slow. It was just a momentary distraction if anything, they seemed to want to finish the task of conquering the village before moving on to other things.

There was a crash from beyond the village and the trees shook. Birds burst out of the trees in a sudden gale of winged panic. There was a crash as tree fell in the distance followed by a strange screech that pierced Kpleeb’s ears. The new sensations scared him and bile rose in his throat. His bloody hand slipped and the long club he wielded dropped to his feet.

A spear whipped forward and slapped the side of Kpleeb’s head. His vision swam and darkened.

He slumped and fell.

The Index -|-

Days and days went by, and Kpleeb became all too familiar with the hut. He paced and thought and he made small marks on one of the poles that held the hut roof in its upright position. This was a trick he had learned in the caves, but this time it was different. The hut was too hot during the day and too cold at night. He could not see the sun, and he had to use a hole in the corner for defecation. All this because Bre and Chief Kilow were convinced that Molk would kill Kpleeb if he was seen outside.

He tried to reason with Bre every day as she brought him food, but she would not take him outside or make any real decision without the Chief.

“Do you serve Chief Kilow?” Kpleeb asked her. He was not sure about the relationship between most of the members of the tribe.

“Kilow, Chief,” said Bre as she handed him a tuber.

“Yes, but…” Kpleeb paused to think as he took a bite. “But, do you work for her? Are you her servant? What is your role in the tribe?”

Bre looked at him for a long moment before answering. “I next chief.”

“Oh-” Kpleeb had not thought about apprenticeship or training. It only brought more questions to mind.

“Is Chief Kilow sick? Why do you need a chief?

“Kilow wise and strong. I must wise and strong. I learn.” Bre handed him another bland tuber. “Wet canyon tribe have chief?”

Kpleeb was sitting up, and his ankles were not bound. He crossed his legs and leaned back slightly. He was well aware of how a string of lies could unravel and the most inopportune moment. From his past, he only knew of the workings of the canyon river tribe, and there he had not been a leader.

What a question! I have to tell the truth about most things. But… Thoka and I left our tribes – were TAKEN from, really – maybe we are our own tribe now?

He thought about the months in the caves with Thoka. He remembered learning from her, being impressed by her focus and intelligence, and enjoying her beauty. In time, she had accepted him.

We are a family, not a tribe. The only tribe I can speak of is the one I grew up in.

Kpleeb was brought back to the present by Bre’s voice.

“What think?” said Bre.

“Urh, well… My tribe had an old chief when I was a cavechild. His name was Ipluu, and he died from the bite of a river snake when I was young. The only thing I remember about his was his long, white hair. He was a strong warrior, but he lived a full life. Fab Elder Shoofit was chosen to become chief when he died.”

Bre raised her hand. “Chief is, caveman?”

“Yes.”

“Urgh Fab Shoofit, why new chief?”

Kpleeb remembered the ceremony well, and so he told Bre the story.

“After the funeral pire and sumptuous dinner of fish baked in fermented yak’s milk and ground chin-weed, the tribe had gathered in a large circle. I was only a cavechild at the time, so I could not stand in front. I saw everything through the elbows of the cavemen and women who encircled the pire.”

“What is pire?” Bre asked.

“Urh, when the chief dies, they place his body on a pile of wood and burn it.”

Bre looked shocked.

Kpleeb continued. “Most of the cavemen held yak-skin tubes of fermented yak’s milk, and some were quite drunk. Everyone knew and liked old Ipluu. He had been chief for a long time. I could not count with numbers that large, but Fab Elder Shoofit would surely know. Chief Ipluu became chief when my Mam was a child. He must have been…” Kpleeb paused to calculate. “He was chief at least twenty years or urh… two-hundred-forty moon cycles. He must have been at least five-hundred moon-cycles old.”

Bre’s eyes squinted at him for a moment. “Young chief. Die young.” She shook her head in apparent disbelief.

Kpleeb continued. “Several cavemen were pushed forward into the center of the circle by others. A couple of those refused and returned to the circle of watchers, but some stayed in the center. Fab Elder Shoofit was only called Shoofit at the time, but he stayed. Each caveman in the center was given a yak-skin of Poodis’ high-test. Poodis was known for making the best fermented yak’s milk in the region, and some of it was strong enough to clean various wounds and burns with.”

“Anyway, the cavemen that would become chief had to be the strongest. They each drank the entire yak-skin, and Fab Elder Shoofit was the last one to fall down.”

“Urgh,” said Bre, “how drink become strength? No battle, or wise test?”

Kpleeb nodded. “Sure, I understand that. Everyone already knew these cavemen well. They were all fine warriors and were wise, at least mostly. The chief of the tribe must sit down with the other tribes and talk. They make war and peace between tribes, and those talks always involve drink. A strong chief must be able to parley for a long time and keep his wits about him. For a chief to pass out during a tribe parley would be nearly unthinkable, and the other chiefs there would certainly take advantage of his state.”

Bre was silent for a few moments while Kpleeb finished his food. “Fab Shoofit chief now. Where? You live how long?”

Kpleeb rolled his eyes. “I am young, only maybe two-hundred-fifty moon-cycles.”

Bre’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “No!” she said forcefully. She rose to her knees and prodded at Kpleeb’s shoulder as if seeing it for the first time. “You older. Much older.”

Kpleeb shook his head. “No, I’m not. anyway, you already asked me where I came from. I – we came from a long distance.” Kpleeb pointed outside in a random direction since he did not know where the canyon was. “Long way. More important is that she will come here. When that happens, you will be safer if I am treated well. Maybe we can trade with you.”

Bre sat back down and stared at him with a new look in her eyes. After a moment of consideration, she appeared to accept his age, and she held her hands open. “What trade?”

“We have very much to trade. The most important is knowledge.” Kpleeb tapped on his forehead. “You have food and you know this region.”

“You stay in… region?” Bre said as if considering the word, though she did not question its meaning.

“Maybe,” said Kpleeb. He did not want to vacillate about their intentions or provide any reason for Kilow’s tribe to be concerned… but he would not leave unless it was with Thoka. They would decide together. “What other tribes are there nearby, and how far does your tribe’s territory extend?”

Bre smiled. “I not give knowledge for free. You trade.”

Kpleeb grinned at Bre. “Ehem… Ahh, yes. Well…”

Just then there was a loud hubbub from outside followed by a more distant cry. Bre rose to her feet quickly, and ran to the door of the hut. She stopped and pointed at him.

“YOU NO RUN!” she said forcefully before pulling back the hanging reeds and disappearing outside.

Kpleeb got to his feet and peered through the reeds at the door. The door to this hut faced the village center just like they all did. He could see cavepeople of all shapes and sizes running in different directions. Some were cavewomen herding cavechildren into or behind huts, and some were warriors with wooden clubs and spears heading the opposite direction. He stuck his head out to get a better idea of what was happening and saw a group of warriors in pitched battle past the edge of the village.

Molk was there with his cavemen. His tree-trunk arms were swinging in wide arcs, and where his club landed, bones broke. Kpleeb could hear the crushing and cries of pain even at this distance. The village warriors seemed to protect his back and sides from a distance while he worked.

The warriors who were attacking the village appeared to be short and very pale. Their attacks were darting and they wielded long spears of springy wood. Their spears had successfully skewered a number of village cavemen, and there were wounded laying in the brush in various spots. Kpleeb could see no pale cavemen that were down, and wondered how that could be possible given Molk’s devastating melee.

Just then, Kpleeb saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and he turned quickly to his left. A pale leg vanished behind the next hut. He turned and looked for other villagers that might raise an alarm. Seeing none, he sprinted toward the edge of the next hut. When he came around the corner, there was no one there, but he heard a rustling behind the adjacent hut. When he turned that corner, he froze.

Two young cavechildren were cowering on the ground with their arms wrapped around their heads. Low pitched groans and wails emanated from the smallish lumps of cavehumanity. Above them and two steps back stood a pale stranger holding a long spear. The pale warrior’s back was turned toward Kpleeb.

Kpleeb backed up quietly and grabbed a thick tree branch that was resting against the hut. He had seen one of the cavewomen beating woven reed mats with this kind of stick. With the stick in his hand, he tip-toed forward and struck the pale figure with a downward swing. The stick struck squarely on the shoulder and the form dropped. Kpleeb stepped forward and bent over the cavechildren.

“Are you okay?”

They looked up at him with teary eyes and nodded. Then they recoiled and cried out at the same time.

Kpleeb felt a warning and ducked. A spear whizzed by just where his head had been. The spear changed direction as a reaction to his movement and Kpleeb was slapped hard in the ear. He swung his arm and rotated violently. His fist came around and connected with the head of the pale warrior. The warrior grunted and fell again. This time, Kpleeb sank to his knees and began to pummel the strange face with his fists. The warrior fought back for a moment, but soon became unmoving.

Kpleeb was breathing heavily and his ears rang. He sat back and held up his bleeding hands for a moment before remembering the cavechildren who were now hovering hesitantly at the edge of the hut.

“It’s safe now,” said Kpleeb through his heavy breathing. He nudged the warrior with his foot. “He is out cold for now.”

“Kpleeb!” Bre came around the corner and knelt near him. Her finger touched his ear gingerly. “Ear broken!”

Kpleeb nodded. “I’ll be fine. Help me up.”

Bre helped Kpleeb to his feet just as Chief Kilow appeared from the opposite direction.

“Children, go,” said Kilow with a sharp gesture. She looked at the pale warrior and then at Kpleeb. “You go inside hut. Molk almost finish.” She took a few steps toward the hut that had become Kpleeb’s home and turned to gesture. “Come.”

Kpleeb followed Chief Kilow with Bre at his side. “I can walk just fine,” he mumbled. The side of his head stung, and he felt slightly dizzy, but he gritted his teeth and continued walking on his own until they came to the hut. He sat down on the mat.

“Thank you. Can I have some water?”

Bre nodded at him and left.

“What happen?” said Chief Kilow. Her stare demanded an answer.

“I saw a pale warrior running around the hut. I followed him and he was threatening the cavechildren. That’s all.”

Chief Kilow examined him silently for a few moments before nodding. “Good. Thank you.”

To Kpleeb, it seemed as if she had taken his simple statement at face value.

It is the truth, after all. What was I supposed to do, run away?

Bre arrived with a water skin and handed it to Kpleeb. “Kilow, we go. Molk come see Aytsik.” Bre looked back toward Kpleeb. “Stay. No run.”

Kpleeb nodded and watched Bre and Chief Kilow leave the hut. He took a drink and laid back to rest.

When will you come find me, Thoka?

The Index -|-

Kpleeb awoke in the dark again. There was a faint wavering light on woven grass overhead, and he turned his head to the right. A wave of nausea bubbled to the surface of his consciousness, and in the background, a dull pain throbbed. He closed his eyes and waited a moment before opening them again. There was only darkness, so he cautiously turned his head the other way. The darkness was there, but it was shallow enough to allow him to see the dim flickerings of a banked fire and a steady stream of smoke rising. Unsure of where he was, he shook his head without thinking. A second wave of dizziness hit him, and what was obscure spun slowly around.

With eyes shut again, he tried to remember.

I went to the village. Bre left me untied, and… I ran toward the river. I made it to the river and somehow fell. I didn’t drown, right?

He opened his eyes again to confirm the earthly nature of his surroundings. The light still flickered. He inhaled slightly and smelled a faint, acrid smoke. He felt a distinct pattern under his back, and realized it must be a bed of reeds laid parallel.

I am still alive… but where?

Kpleeb moved his fingers and felt a dried frond. Attempting to reach with the other hand, his movement came to a sudden stop. He tugged, carefully at first, more insistently. Soon he flexed his bicep with all of his strength and could feel a cord cutting into his wrist. He strained with the effort and breathed in sharply. There was a sharp pain in his chest and he coughed violently as a result.

Muffled voices spoke somewhere close by and within seconds a shadow formed over him.

“Awake now.” Hands tugged at his bonds, presumably to ensure that they still held fast. Another shadow blocked the firelight on the reed walls to his left. After a momentary rustling, the light from a newly lit torch flooded the hut.

Kpleeb clenched his eyes shut in reaction to the sudden light. Water trickled onto his lips, and he sucked it in, coughing again.

“Slow,” said a soft voice.

Kpleeb opened his eyes and saw Bre’s face bent over him. He drank in small sips as she poured from a shallow, clay bowl.

After a few moments Bre pulled the bowl away and dabbed at his face with a wet finger in swiping motions from the ridge of his nose to each ear.

“What happened?” Kpleeb croaked. “Why am I here?” He tugged at the rough cord that bound his wrists. “Why am I bound?”

Bre’s eyes focused on his, and Kpleeb could see a newfound wariness there. She no longer trusted him.

“You run,” she said flatly. “Fall, hurt chest, breath water.”

Her fingers gently pushed a spot of his ribcage, and pain bloomed.

Kpleeb inhaled sharply, and clenched his teeth. “Sorry. I didn’t want Molk to kill me.”

Bre shrugged her bare shoulders.

“Molk no trust. Kilow no trust now.”

Kpleeb sighed. “And Bre no trust,” he said quietly.

Her eyes flicked to meet his, and then away toward the other form. She lifted the bowl again and poured water onto his open mouth.

As Kpleeb drank, the other form approached. Kilow’s face entered his sight.

Kpleeb had never seen Kilow up close.

Her expression was stern, and it was accentuated by wrinkles that etched her skin. The skin of her face and torso was clean and deeply tanned. It resembled petrified wood that had been polished and carefully preserved. Her eyes were pale green and exuded a lively interest. Pure white hair was pulled back into a high pigtail. A necklace made of plain, grey stones of various sizes adorned her neck, but like Bre and the other women he had seen, Kilow wore no covering above her loincloth.

“I ask. You talk,” said Kilow. Though she appeared very old, her voice was strong and unwavering. Her eyes scanned his body, and he felt as if he was being examined down to the last molecule.

He waited for a question, and finally, Kilow spoke again.

“Where from?” she asked.

Kpleeb’s eyes flickered between Bre and Kilow. “Land above canyon.”

Kilow’s hand moved like a striking cobra. “Lie. Speak your words not caveman words.”

Kpleeb’s face stung where she had slapped him, and his mind spun.

She wants me to speak in my own way. I cannot give away Thoka… or the story of the two caves. I don’t know where the wet mountains are or the river canyon or the tundra. If I speak of them, she could send Molk to attack.

He had no idea how strong Molk’s warriors were in comparison to the warriors back home at the river canyon. He grew up knowing that the river canyon warriors won many battles, but he also remembered the few losses. He knew he must speak, and decided to split the truth, and deflect any identifying characteristics of his story.

“Okay, I will speak my words,” he said with a nod. “I am Kpleeb from the wet canyon tribe. I do not know where my home is because I am lost. I hope the great spirit tahr will help me to find my home again.”

Kilow listened and seemed to parse his words and phrasings. After a moment she nodded. “Good speak, but more lie.”

Kpleeb sputtered in disbelief. “Lie? Why do you say that?”

“You not from here.” Kilow pointed at his shoulders, hips, and feet as she spoke. “Qui know every caveman. You other caveman. Feet not worn. Muscle shape weak, different.” Her hand struck his face again in the same spot.

Kpleeb’s eyes involuntarily welled with tears from the stinging slap. “I do not mean to offend you. I come from a very great distance, but have rested nearby for some time. You must let me go and find my family. Please!”

Kilow’s eyes narrowed. “What is great spirit tahr?”

“Urh…” Kpleeb stammered. “He is the tahr that rules the world. He brings the rain, wind, and sun. You must know of him.”

Bre shifted on her feet and looked in askance at the chief.

Kilow sucked her teeth for a moment and sighed. “No great spirit tahr. Qui protect tribe.” She shook her head and repeated herself. “You other caveman. Very different. You talk. Where from? How come to canyon?”

Kpleeb did not know what to say. He did not want to be slapped over and over by the fiery old cavewoman. He also did not want her to call Molk and be bashed into a bloody pile of flesh. There was no escape. They knew he would run and no longer trusted him. He had to admit to himself that he would flee again if given the chance. He was a prisoner in a village of cavepeople who distrusted him and had no reason to let him go. He suspected that Kilow was willing to wait for the information he might provide because, somehow, she saw some truth hidden behind his statements. Molk would rather kill him soon and forget about the consequences, but Molk was not nearly as cunning as Kilow.

“I come from a great distance with my wife. We are just passing through, and wish you no harm. She will find me, and she will rescue me. She will punish anyone who stands in her way. It would be safer for you and your children to just let me go.”

Kilow looked at Bre momentarily and then back at Kpleeb. “What name wife?” Kilow said calmly. “When she come?”

“I will not give you her name. You will know when she arrives. If you let me go, I will take her far away.”

Kilow’s eyebrows rose for a second before she replied. “If go, I not meet wife. You stay, wait.” She nodded. “Maybe come. Maybe not.” Kilow turned on her heels and walked out of the hut.

Kpleeb looked at Bre who was staring at him. “You should let me go,” he said quietly.

Bre looked at him oddly for a lengthy moment before turning and leaving.

Kpleeb put his head back down on the reeds and sighed audibly. He had done his best to scare them, but was afraid that it was not enough. Kilow seemed to have insight into things that Kpleeb did not expect. She was strong, and she trusted her instinct.

She would make a formidable enemy. If Thoka comes, I will need to make sure that Kilow and Bre choose to work with us. If Thoka comes back?

Kpleeb scoffed lightly out loud. He knew that Thoka would come back. It would take her some time to find him, build a plan to rescue him safely, and then make that plan happen. He just needed to wait and keep stay calm. He began to ponder what he saw and what questions he might ask Kilow tomorrow or the next time. Perhaps he could use knowledge to make allies. After all, Kilow seemed particularly bright, for a caveperson.

Soon, Kpleeb fell asleep.

He awoke in the light with Bre standing over him holding a tuber.

“Eat,” she said.

Kpleeb was hungry and did eat even though the tuber was very bland.. He took some water when it was offered. When he had finished, he spoke just as Bre was turning to leave.

“Can I go outside today? I have to urinate.”

Bre turned back and scowled at him. “Want escape? Not trust.”

Kpleeb shrugged. “I just need to urinate. If you wish, I will do it laying here as I am.”

Bre shook her head. “If outside, Molk see, Molk beat you.”

“Yes, that would be bad,” said Kpleeb with a small grin. “I don’t want Molk to beat me. Where then can I urinate?”

Bre looked around the hut and after a moment pointed at a wall. “Wait, I dig hole.” She disappeared from his sight and came back in. When she finished, he could see that she had dug an indention in the dirt at the bottom of a wall. “Go here,” she said coming to him. “No run. No!” she said through clenched teeth as she loosened the cord that wrapped his wrist.

Kpleeb sat upright and nodded at Bre. “Thank you. I won’t run.” His legs hurt, and he walked toward the hut wall carefully and relieved himself. When he turned around, he saw that Bre had turned her back on him at the hut door.

“I’m done,” he said, walking to the reed mat. He laid down and put his wrists where they were before so that she could fasten the cords.

“Thank you,” she said after she had tied the cords.

She disappeared for the rest of the day. Outside, Kpleeb could hear cavechildren playing and the random noises that were produced by a village of people without technology. He slept off and on. Dusk came, then darkness. He urinated in the evening after eating tubers.

Bre curled up on a mat near the door of the hut and slept.

Kpleeb laid awake long into the night thinking about how he might escape, what questions should be asked to determine where he and Thoka should go next.

This tribe, except maybe Molk, could be useful. They could provide food and information. They could be friends in time of need. I wonder how much power Kilow has? Is this tribe a co-ruler situation or a non-warrior/warrior shared leadership? How long have they been here? Are there other tribes nearby? Enemies?

Sleep took him.