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.

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?