The Index -|-

Bre looked up from Kpleeb’s bloody and matted hair to gaze at the cavewoman who had arrived with such an immense show of force. Though the fighting had stopped, there were groans of pain and labored breathing from many of the warriors that lay on the packed ground. Turning, she saw that there were a fair number of pale warriors that certainly must have been dead. Several of the dead were bent and broken in unnatural ways and were covered with blood and chunks of dirt.

He warned us, she thought. Did she save us from the pale warriors, or just save Kpleeb from everyone else?

Kpleeb’s wife looked coldly down on Bre and Kpleeb. Her eyes flickered with a fiery temper, and Bre felt strong contempt roll off of her in waves. Her white hair was tied back into a yaktail and fastened with some kind of cord that Bre did not recognize. The cavewoman’s facial features were very pale – though not as white as the pale warriors – and the shape of her face was different than Bre was used to seeing. The most shocking to Bre was the obvious signs of pregnancy. She knew from experience that the baby must be due within the next moon cycle, maybe sooner. Regardless of her condition, Kpleeb’s wife had a demeanor that exuded strength and lacked any interest in playing games.

“I’m back, Kpleeb. Time to wake up.” The woman reached out with her foot and kicked Kpleeb lightly.

The lilt in the woman’s voice was strange, but Bre noticed that she spoke the same fluid language that Kpleeb spoke. They both used extra words throughout their phrases, and most of them were new to Bre. Over the past few handfuls of sun cycles, Bre had learned a few words from Kpleeb. It was clear to her now that the extra words were a means of providing distinction and detail that was lacking in the general communication of her own tribe. The difference fascinated Bre, and she intended to learn all that she could.

These two are different in some way; intelligent yet still caveman and cavewoman. I must gain their knowledge if I can.

Kpleeb stirred.

###

Kpleeb inhaled slowly and then began coughing violently. His ribs stung with a sharp pain. He opened his eyes, but the image before him was very blurry and bright, and he shut them immediately. He reached out a shaky hand and felt the side of his head. His fingers came away sticky, which explained why his brain felt as if it were trapped inside the drum of a mystic, tundra-shaman.

After a few moments of effort, he was able to shove aside the shooting twinges of pain and stop the wracking cough. Kpleeb breathed heavily and opened his eyes again gingerly. The light bloomed in a fuzzy halo that ebbed and flowed in his eyesight. After a few seconds he blinked a few times more and saw Thoka.

Oh, thank the great spirit tahr!

“Thoka!” Kpleeb mumbled. His jaw felt sluggish. He held his arms up toward her. Her belly had grown since the last time he saw her, and her face stared down at him severely. His extended arms were weak, and began to sag.

Thoka’s face was stony, but Kpleeb saw a crack in her expression. It was momentary, and it passed as she bent toward him.

“Get up, Kpleeb.” Her hand was outstretched.

He grasped her hand. She is so strong.

“We must talk,” Thoka said brusquely. She pointed toward one of the huts as if to command him.

Kpleeb turned his head, saw Bre kneeling next to him, and experienced a short moment of vertigo.

Bre stood and pointed toward the huts. “Talk.,” she said looking at Thoka.

Chief Kilow stepped up and echoed Bre’s intent.

“First, I’ll talk with Kpleeb,” said Thoka. “You wait here.” She pulled him to a standing position.

Kpleeb staggered toward the hut that Thoka had pointed out and leaned on her arm.

“How did you get here?” He asked. “I knew you would come find me.” He turned slightly and look at her face.

She is even more beautiful than I remembered.

Thoka stopped just past the shade of the low and narrow doorway. “Do you need to sit?” she asked.

Kpleeb grimaced at the various pains that broke through his fog. His ribs stung as did his arms, legs, and back. What hurt the most was his head, and he reached up gain to feel the wound.

“I’ll heal, Thoka. I can bathe in the river and then see what cuts must be attended to.”

“You certainly like spending time in the river, don’t you?” Thoka’s face was pinched as she spit her words. “Spending time with Bre.”

“What?! No, why?” Kpleeb could not believe what he was hearing.

“She certainly like parading around in front of you… naked too.” Thoka huffed. “I’m back now and you’ll have to keep your eyes to yourself.”

Kpleeb raised his hands as if to ward off her accusations. “All of the cavewomen wear only a loincloth here just like they did when I grew up on the canyon river. Kilow, all the rest. Why are you worried about Bre? Kpleeb started to feel ranty. “It’s not as if she is the best-looking cavewoman around. Have you seen Molk’s girl, Hilok?” He trailed off as he realized his mistake.

“Yes, Hilok is buxom – and tall,” said Thoka, “but you spent a lot of time with Bre… and you seemed to enjoy it.” Thoka waved an index finger in Kpleeb’s face like a snake waiting to strike.

He scoffed loudly. “Oh, please! She was assigned by Chief Kilow to watch me. She is training to be the next chief. Anyway, there are a few dozen women walking around here, bathing, and doing whatever else cavewomen do every day.” Kpleeb softened his voice. “I know that it may not have looked okay from a distance, but I was and still am your caveman. I’m loyal. What did you want to talk about anyways, just this?”

Thoka’s eyes burned at him for a quick moment and then she dropped her gaze. After a moment she slowly looked up at him again.

“I forgive you…” she paused. “I have much to tell you- and to show you. And the baby, she comes soon.”

Kpleeb reached out a hand and cupped Thoka’s clean, white cheek. “I forgive you too, and yes, there is much to share. We must talk before we speak to Chief Kilow and Bre.“ Kpleeb looked out into the village circle and saw that Bre and the chief had followed and were standing a dozen paces away from the hut.

“I need to bathe and assess these wounds. Let’s go to the river to talk where we cannot be heard.”

Thoka looked at the waiting cavewomen and nodded. “Your healing is most important.” She turned, wrapped her arm around him, and began to lead him outside.

Chief Kilow stepped forward, but Thoka spoke before she could open her mouth. “We will talk after my husband is bathed and his wounds are tended to.

The chief nodded. “I bring salve.” She turned away quickly. Bre paused as if unsure and then trotted after Kilow.

“We don’t have much time,” Kpleeb said with a wince as he walked slowly. “We must work with this tribe. They have knowledge of this place, and they have warriors and gatherers. We can teach them and they can be our tribe.”

Thoka nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want to find our home?”

“I told them that we were with the wet canyon tribe.”

Thoka’s looked sideways at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know where we are. What if the river canyon or the wet mountains are close and it causes problems for us here?” Kpleeb looked up at the very distant white peak across the river.

“That is not the wet mountains. Trust me,” said Thoka. “I don’t know where we are either, but it’s not something we should worry about.” She stepped into the water at the edge of the river. “Listen, I have to tell you about what I have learned.”

Kpleeb knelt down gingerly and began to splash water onto his head. The chill hurt at first and accentuated his burgeoning headache. He shivered but continued because he knew that he needed to clean up and heal.

Thoka’s spoke again when he started to clean the rest of his body. “I used my time finding ways to rescue you. It seemed like a long time, but I now know that we can dominate this tribe and any other that we find. They can serve us, Kpleeb.”

Kpleeb grunted. “How can we dominate them? With your invisible forces?”

“Yes. I am strong and very, very smart. With your skills and mine together… well there is no limit to how far we can go.” She turned and watched Kilow and Bre approaching from a distance. “We can work with them, if that’s what you want to call it, but in the end, we need helpers.”

“To live?”

“No, we need helpers so that we can find the entities that kidnapped from our homes and locked us in those caves.” She looked down at Kpleeb and put her hand on her swollen belly. “And they changed us. They must pay for what they’ve done.”

Kpleeb was quiet as he washed. Bre and Chief Kilow arrived and stood looking at Thoka. Thoka stared back at them as if she could read their future.

There was a long moment with only the muted babbling of the river echoing their thoughts.

Kpleeb looked up at Thoka and then at Chief Kilow and Bre. It seemed to him as a test of wills played out in an arena of stubbornness.

Curse the gods who brought us here. Thoka is right. We must bring vengeance onto their lands.

The Index -|-

Thoka settled back on her throne. The seat cupped her back and sides comfortably, and the small platform the throne rested on swayed gently with her movement – just like a boat on calm water. In the distance, Kpleeb and the villagers ran in various directions as the strange natives pressed the battle closer and closer to the village center. They seemed to disorganized.

These new warriors reminded her of the enigmatic and rarely seen death whites back home on the slopes of wet mountain. These were shorter, but they had a similar facial style that intrigued her. She had seen a few of them up close and determined that their faces were painted to match each of the other warriors. They were painted in such a way to make them appear uniformly white and angular. Above each eye was another eye, open and painted in blue. She remembered how blue the eyes of the death whites were, and wondered if there was any relation. Even after much observation, she was not sure if the paint was a religious symbol or something else entirely.

She was, however, certain that these warriors were fierce and formidable enemies. Over the course of the last few weeks, she had watched them as they destroyed a village on the tundra past the upper-canyon. Every person, cavewomen and children included, had been slaughtered. They were utterly ruthless, but the worst part was that the warriors took only the shiniest objects, no matter how small. Food, bodies, and other items were left where they fell. It made no sense to her, but she thought that finding their home village would help her understand them much better.

After that battle, they had scattered into the trees with such skill that she lost their trail. She had wanted to follow them home today, wherever that was, but they had begun to attack Kilow’s village. Now, things had spun out of control, and it appeared that the entire village would soon be overrun. The strange warriors were efficient and beastly in their tactics, and despite Molk’s size and his large group of trained warriors, it was clear to her that they could not stand in the path of the horde.

Thoka clenched her fist and adjusted the various bracelets that adorned her wrists, elbows, and knees. She rotated her eyepiece and stared at the village.

I can’t let Kpleeb die… but it wouldn’t hurt him to think that he might be in real danger. A part of her deep inside felt guilty for risking his life for such a petty thing. She sighed to herself and pressed an actuator-rod to the side with her foot. Her throne wobbled, jolted forward and began to pick up speed. As she neared the tree line that surrounded the village, the cries of battle grew louder. Through the chaos she heard Kpleeb cry out.

Thoka swept aside the trees in front of her with a gesture. She felt the tug of her bracelets as the invisible forces aligned with the environment and pressured it to move. The trees ahead of her cracked and swayed. As the largest tree fell in front of her, she caught a glimpse of Kpleeb covered in blood, falling. Anger swept over her, and she lashed out.

With a flick of her wrist, she swatted the warrior that had struck Kpleeb in the head. The warrior’s body was violently tossed aside like a ragdoll. Though she was still many paces away from the battle, Thoka heard a sickening crunch as the body landed at the base of a nearby tree. Some of the warriors had been swept aside by her attack, and many, but not all, of the white warriors turned to face her. There was no apparent fear behind the horde of unblinking, blue eyes that stared at her.

Thoka bared her teeth ferociously and touched the stone necklace that hung around her neck. For a split second, there was a thrum of deep notes that crackled through the air around her. Her ears popped, and she grasped her pregnant belly with her left arm.

“Aaargh!” she growled emphatically. It would be a feeble noise in most circumstances, but the necklace amplified her voice through the body of her throne. Nearby shrubberies shook with the deafening snarl that emanated from her person. Kpleeb did not stir, but all of the village cavechildren flung themselves to the ground and covered their ears. The painted warriors stood unflinching, but she smiled as the remainder of them turned to face her.

I have your attention now.

The throne was still moving steadily toward the village. Thoka had tested its speed and maneuverability, but knew that a speedy attack required speedy defenses as well. She was not feeling incredibly quick at the moment.

No offense, little one. I will regain my reflexes when you are born.

She patted her belly and watched the strange warriors spread out before her. Thoka waited for their first moves, and tensed when she reached the range of their spears. The warriors waited, but she saw several bounce on the balls of their feet. Soon, she was close enough for even the scrawniest caveperson to hit her with a spear.

It was then that they launched in unison.

Thoka sucked in a deep breath as the spears left the hands of the white warriors. Time slowed, and she raised her left hand. Around her wrist was a curvaceous and intricate bracelet that wrapped twice and then extended into her palm. The section that wrapped her wrist was lined with tiny rods. She swung her wrist downward sharply, and the spears were scattered and splintered as if they had encountered a glass wall.

She retaliated with the right hand, and the ground at the feet of the warriors burst upward with a thunderous roar. Thoka clenched her fist tightly and brought it downward. All of the warriors in the center were thrown down and pummeled with clods of dirt and rocks. Through the dust, she saw Molk swinging wildly at nearby warriors. A few that were near the edges scrambled to their feet and began to attack Molk. One or two began to drag pale bodies away through the haze.

She struck again with a downward twist of her fingers, and the figures who fled were flatted against the ground. She did not wait to see if they stopped moving but instead turned toward Molk. He had clearly been badly injured during the extended battle and was no longer holding his own. His huge arms faltered, and the warriors pressed in. Molk and Kpleeb would be overrun at any moment.

Thoka stood carefully and leaned forward in concern. Though she could wield the invisible forces, she could not do so with any particular finesse. All of her time has been spent creating and testing rods and other devices to use the knowledge she had gained. Almost none of the time had been dedicated to practice.

Molk fought only one step in front of Kpleeb’s body, and Thoka felt renewed dismay as the warriors pressed him with terrible fury. Those nearest her slowly approaching throne grouped up and rushed with spears while a smaller group tried to flank her. Thoka saw Kpleeb stir as the women named Bre bent over him.

He is alive. I have to end this battle now!

She struck hard with her fist and shattered the group of warriors that rushed at her. There was a high-pitched cry of pain from one of them. She had never heard one of them acknowledge pain, but saw that the warrior’s elbow bent backward an impossible angle. Blood flowed from the torn skin and bone. Only three of the five warriors attempted to rise, albeit slowly.

Thoka screamed loudly in a piercing shriek and then lashed out with a powerful sideways swat. The warriors and Molk were hurled to the side, and Thoka saw that Bre was also pummeled and fell over and away from Kpleeb. Molk lay motionless face down a few meters from where he once fought.

Just then, Thoka felt her throne dip as weight was applied to it from behind her. She threw her hands up and ducked. A springy, wooden spear pierced the air where her head had been, and she saw the warrior topple over and back onto the ground as her blocking movement shoved him away. With another shrill yell, she spun and crushed the warrior before he could rise. There was a gooey pop as his ribs caved in. The other two warriors circled her as if daring her to defeat them.

They never seem to give up, Thoka sighed internally, but I’ll make them fear me.

She stood, and stepped onto the ground. Her pregnant belly was awkward, and she exaggerated her steps purposefully. The two warriors split up to remain on opposite sides of Thoka, and she rotated with them in her peripheral sight. She reached up and touched her necklace, deactivating her amplifier before speaking.

“Come,” she said simply, looking first at one warrior and then the other.

Without a sound they rushed in simultaneously with spears held low and ready for an upward thrust.

Thoka drew on the well of invisible forces that were always around her and judged the timing carefully. She then stepped back. The warriors tried to adjust, but her at first indiscernible grip held them on course. Their spear tips crossed paths and continued. The pale warriors watched, wide eyed as each impaled the other. Their faces paired in a twin rictus of pain and shock.

Thoka smiled viciously and slammed their faces together with one immense blow. Blood spattered heavily on her arms, belly, and legs. The bodies slumped almost silently to the ground.

Silent until the end, Thoka thought as she turned toward the group of villagers.

With a brutal efficiency, Thoka crushed each warrior as they came. None who were uninjured fled, and she killed or injured every warrior that attacked. When she finally stood over Kpleeb and Bre, he was still breathing, and Thoka felt satisfied at the fear that exuded from Bre. She turned her head and saw that Molk was slowly sitting up. In the background, behind Bre, Chief Kilow murmured over a few terrified cavechildren.

She reached out with a bare foot and nudged Kpleeb’s body roughly. “I’m back, Kpleeb,” said Thoka in a steely voice. “Time to wake up.”

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.