The Seed (Caveman Chronicles)

The Index -|-

Thoka stood silently as Kilow and Bre approached. The women appeared to be generally strong. Their bodies were toned and there was very little fat there. Kilow, though clearly the older of the women, was very fit and carried herself with a subdued confidence.

Thoka looked toward the village and saw Molk striding about. His calls to action were heard only faintly. Occasionally, he would help drag a pale warrior into the pile near the very center of the circle – where Kpleeb had once been tied up.

These are the best leaders the tribe has. Molk is muscle only, but he sways opinions through sheer size and force of will.

Kilow stood and stared thoughtfully at Thoka. Her mannerisms were calm and patient. She did not speak.

Bre was very still and held her breath. Her hands were clasped together at her belly button. Thoka could tell by the whiteness of her fingers that Bre was nervous and held herself in check. She would not speak before Kilow.

Thoka looked down at Kpleeb. He sluiced water with both hands up and over his head. Over and over, the water ran down his body and stained the pool at the edge of the river red with his blood. He shivered. Though springtime had come, the water was still very cold. It came from the canyon and beyond that, the distant mountains where snow and ice still appeared at the frosty peak.

Thoka waited. She knew that her power lie in remaining unknown. Kilow and Bre would be wary of her as long as her intentions and actions were uncertain. While she waited, she examined every detail of the river, village, and the cavepeople. The huts were rudimentary clay and stick huts with roofs of fronds and leaves from trees that grew nearby. Each one had a low door with a beaded curtain. The huts circled the village center where the pole that Kpleeb had been bound to was located. Beyond the village was a jungle or trees, and brush that had been naturally cleared away as the villagers had gathered firewood and building materials. Overall, Thoka was impressed. The village appeared to be old, yet it was a step up from dwelling inside caves. The huts, the pole, and the river all pointed toward intelligence and planning over time.

Maybe this Kilow is a good leader after all.

“We talk,” Kilow stated, still looking calmly at Thoka. She held out a tiny, wooden bowl with a semi-gelatinous substance in it. “Salve.” A distant rumble of thunder echoed from the direction of the canyon, and the breeze shifted.

Thoka stared back without emotion. “We need food.” She looked at Kpleeb, who stood carefully. “Kpleeb must be taken care of.”

“I bring,” said Bre breathlessly. She trotted off immediately.

There was a distant rumble of thunder. Thoka ignored Bre and reached out to take the small bowl. It smelled pungent. Pink and gooey, it coated the tip of her finger. She touched her tongue with it. The taste was sharp, and her tongue tingled slightly.

Acidic, with an astringent quality. It was made at least partially out of berry, distilled spirits, and a strange kind of fat.

Thoka rubbed her finger and thumb together and felt the slick grease spread and coat her skin. It felt cool where it touched. She placed her thumb-ring over the bowl, and focused. The invisible forces swam in a sedate circular pattern under and through it the ring. The salve turned a mottled green and blue. Vapors emitted endlessly from the surface and rose toward the sky as smoke would rise from a fire. Thoka turned the bowl slowly, examining it from various angles, and saw that the vapors were affected by the gusting breeze.

“Thank you,” she said finally and raised her eyes to meet those of Kilow.

Kilow waved toward the village. “Come. Sit. Talk.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and began walking toward the group of cavepeople that now gathered there around the dead and wounded.

Kpleeb started to move, but Thoka placed her hand on his shoulder. “Wait, Kpleeb. How do you feel?” She dipped her index finger into the salve again. “Show me your head.”

Kpleeb complied. “I hurt all over, but I will be alright. Is that salve safe? Will it wash off in the rain?”

“The salve is fine. Don’t worry about it” She swiped some of it onto a long cut on the crown of his head, and he winced. “This will clean the wound and keep them from getting infected.” Thoka continued to work on the numerous cuts and bruises that were peppered all over Kpleeb’s body. “Let me do the talking when we sit with them.”

Kpleeb nodded silently.

After a few moments, Kpleeb and Thoka arrived at the circle again. Kilow and Bre were waiting there. Bre held in her hands a small, wooden board on which rested a fruit that had been sliced into thin, bright-green sections. There was also a rough piece of flatbread and a hunk of roasted meat.

Thoka took the tray and turned toward Kpleeb. “Sit and eat. I need you healthy.” She gestured toward a waiting rock.

Kpleeb sat and began to eat with a groan and a sigh.

“Let us talk,” said Thoka nodding toward Kilow. Carefully, she sat on the rock next to Kpleeb.

I cherish you, little one, but you are becoming heavy. The patted her belly gently. Soon you will greet your parents. As was common, the baby moved, and Thoka smiled gratefully.

“Why here?” said Kilow. She sat carefully on a log that was a pace from Thoka. Bre sat next to Kilow without asking.

“Kpleeb and I come from a great distance. We will build a new tribe nearby, and want to trade with you.” Thoka nodded to Kilow and looked around the village. “We help you, and you help us. An alliance between your tribe and ours.”

Kilow shrugged noncommittally. “Where tribe?” She looked around. “You alone.”

Thoka smiled coldly. “Kpleeb, our child, and I are enough for now, but we will bring many into the tribe in time. Maybe even you.”

“What trade?” said Kilow ignoring the statement.

“We want scouts, knowledge of the area, food, and counsel. For trade, we can give you protection and expand your reach.” Thoka looked at the nearby pile of dead warriors. “Without me, you would all be dead. The strange warriors would consume everything you have and then move on.”

Kilow shrugged again as if she had no concern for the life of her people, but Thoka knew that it was false. Kilow was clearly a leader who had spent decades building the tribe’s strength and infrastructure. She was sure to have a vast knowledge of the area as well as any competing tribes. The relationship with Kilow, Bre, and even Molk would likely be critical to her success.

Thoka leaned forward as the wind picked up and a few spattering drops of rain fell around them. “You are strong, but the strange warriors are an exception. They are a new phenomenon, are they not? Their kind will not be beaten by Molk, no matter how many of him you have.”

Kilow showed her first emotion with a slight, mouth-twisting grimace. “I grateful. We survive alone. Many, many sun-cycles. You, not need.”

The rain began in earnest, and Thoka enjoyed the feel of it on her skin for a moment. She raised her chin to the sky and closed her eyes The wind picked up, and she knew that it would be cold soon, especially since the sun was now hidden by dark clouds. After a moment, she raised her hands and twisted her bracelet nonchalantly. Immediately, the rain was blocked above her. It scattered instead on a silvery arc that extended a pace in all directions. The remaining water ran sideways and then downward to pool in the dirt at her feet. Thoka lowered her face and look at Kilow. The rain and wind buffeted Kilow’s hair, yet she was proud and did not stir.

“I know that you are strong. I wish not for alliances with weaklings or fools. I do not come to steal your people or take your land.” Thoka spread her hands, and the bubble that protected her expanded to include Kilow and Bre. “I have need, and my friendship can ensure your future.” Thoka stood abruptly and the bubble vanished. The rain began to pelt her, but she ignored it and walked to the group of strange warriors that remained alive. All five of the warriors were guarded by Molk who watched her warily as she approached.

The first warrior was a little man like the rest. He looked up at her stoically with faint green eyes, as if he saw the coming of his own death and yet was unconcerned. Drops of rain ran down his cheeks and smeared the white paint. Beneath it were angular tattoos painted in a muddy black. Molk poked the warrior’s wounded arm harshly with a stick, and the warrior blinked but did not utter a sound.

“Join my tribe.” Thoka said looking at each of them. “I give you a moment to decide” She gestured to Molk and shook her finger at the warriors. “Bring them food and drink.”

Molk sputtered and then wound himself up for a grander display of cavemanhood-osity-ness. His barrel chest heaved with the pressures of inflated lungs and a not-so-righteous anger, and just as he was about to explode, Thoka turned back to face him.

“Have one of your warriors see to it,” she said with a low hiss. She raised her finger from two paces away and pointed it at Molk’s forehead. “But make sure it is done.”

Molk’s eyes grew slightly, and he swallowed his complaint. He turned and barked at one of the cavewomen. “Bring food. Water!” He turned toward one of the pale warriors and growled at him.

Thoka turned to look at Kpleeb. He had finished eating and was talking to Kilow and Bre. She approached.

“…you know me,” Kpleeb was saying. “We want trade and alliance, and Thoka and I are worthy of your attention.”

He turned to put a hand on Thoka’s shoulder. His fingers moved in a slight arc on her neck, and Thoka was reminded of many tender moments.

“We do not insist, and we will leave this place and take with us our help and friendship if you choose it. However, the great spirit tahr will smile on all of us if we work together.

Thoka nodded her agreement. “I wish to stay in your village tonight, if you agree. We would be under your protection, and tomorrow talk about specifics.”

Kilow nodded slowly and then looked at Bre. “Hut of Wilp, dead now.” She looked at Kpleeb and Thoka with a thoughtful expression and pointed at Bre. “We talk and Molk. Tomorrow decide.”

“Thank you,” Thoka said bowing slightly as she had seen her Ma do to important guests back home at the Wet Mountain. “I want to speak again with the strange warriors. Will you come?”

Kilow nodded, and they all followed Thoka to the grouping of white-painted men. Molk stood nearby and glared at the warriors. A scrawny cavewoman had given each a tuber and a shallow bowl of water. The warriors held the tuber, but did not eat. Though they were bound to each other in a circle, they appeared to be tense and ready to leap and escape into the jungle at any moment.

Molk shifted his hostile countenance toward Thoka as they approached.

He may be afraid of me, but not enough. He bears watching. Thoka settled her cold eyes on Molk for a moment before turning to the bound warriors.

“I gave you time to choose and food and water. By these actions I demonstrate that I can be trusted.” She held out her hands. “Now is the time to choose. You may join my tribe, swear to follow where I lead, and obey my commands. If you choose my tribe, you may return to your tribe to gather your women and children. If you choose to not join me, I will allow you to leave, but we will be enemies the next time we meet.” Thoka paused and looked carefully at each painted face.

Their facial expressions were utterly impassive, but their eyes looked at her with what she thought were various expressions of interest, curiosity, and in one instance, perhaps anger. Not one of them spoken or shifted uncomfortably as if to indicate that they, personally, might be feeling the need to speak. Thoka grew impatient.

“Make a choice,” she said quietly. “You must choose now if you will stay and become one of my own or leave as an enemy.” She looked at the first warrior in front of her and then pointed at him. “Choose!” She paused.

The warrior’s mouth opened slightly and then closed. He looked to the warrior that was bound at his right arm before looking back at Thoka.

“I join you,” he said. His face had not changed.

There was a twitch from the shoulders of the third warrior. Thoka ignored it and moved to the next caveman.

The warrior spoke without prompting. “I join.”

The next warrior shook his head and put his shoulders back. “I enemy.” His eyes spit fire at her, but there was no emotion on his face.

The remaining two warriors joined her tribe.

“Unbind them,” Thoka said to Molk.

Molk looked angrily at Kilow who shrugged. “They not my tribe.”

“Pale warriors captured! Not release! They kill many. I kill. I kill!” He reared back and punched one of the pale faces with a swift and brutal blow.

“Stop!” Thoka roared. She raised her hands and set her feet toward Molk.

He turned toward Thoka in anger, but Kilow stepped between them. Kpleeb took a step from Thoka’s side and stood beside Kilow with his hands raised in a fighting stance.

“Release. Obey.” Kilow said. Her voice was stern.

Molk knelt down next to the bound group and roughly began to yank away the rough cords that bound them. When he was done, he stood and they remained seated in the mud. Molk’s jaw worked and his face was red with pent up frustration.

“Stand and go,” said Thoka. “You are my tribe. Return here with your women and children. Tell the others that this village shall not be attacked.”

The warrior who had refused to join did not wait. He quickly disappeared into the trees. The others held their hands at shoulder level with palms upward and fingers facing forward. In unison their hands folded at the wrist to cover their pectoral muscles, and their heads nodded slightly. Without a sound, they too leapt into the jungle.

Molk stalked away followed by the small group of warriors that remained.

“Thank you, Kilow,” Thoka said nodding at her. “I do not want to hurt Molk.”

“Molk, stubborn but brave. I talk.” Kilow turned to follow the warriors and then spoke to Bre. “Bring Thoka to hut of Wilp.”

###

It was dark, and Thoka rested, reclining on a thick, straw mat inside the hut they had been assigned to for the night. Next to her, a thin tripod of yellow stone stood, and from the tip a small diamond emitted a dim light.

Kpleeb knelt behind her and rubbed her shoulders. His hands felt great, and she found that her mood had begun to mellow significantly.

“I missed you, Kpleeb.”

Kpleeb grunted quietly and continued to knead her shoulders and neck. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Those warriors are dangerous. Molk is dangerous too.”

Thoka nodded and laid her head back into Kpleeb’s lap. She was still tense. Kpleeb’s fingers began to slowly rub her temples.

There is much to do and so many obstacles and dangers. The strange warriors must fear me, but their fighting and teamwork is useful. I hope they reciprocate the respect I have given them. I believe they will. She felt the baby kick. And you, little one. You come soon. I will need help with you.

Thoka sighed audibly. “We must have a tribe. We must trust someone, but we must also be on our toes to watch for the untrustworthy. I need help to bring this baby, our baby, into the world. We need help building a tribe, bringing food and materials.”

Kpleeb murmured something quietly and nodded. At least, she felt that maybe he did. Her eyes were closed and she was… asleep.