Visions (3 page)

Shadows danced on yellow walls. There was the smell of wood smoke from dying fires, and a moaning sound as the great cave breathed out through a tunnel to outside night air. These sensations were the first to disappear as Anka drew them deep within themselves for a moment of rest and inward focus. When at last he felt them together he gave them a vision of the sun rising over mountains and in the foreground was a forest of pine. Birds with long beaks, colored in reds, blue and yellow were flying to and fro, calling to each other. Small animals with long, furry tails raced up and down the trees and along the branches. He heard a collective sigh from the cavern, then took them beneath the trees where they looked up through a forest canopy towards blue sky, and felt the ferns and grasses beneath their feet. A large, blue bird with a hooked beak shrieked at their presence, and followed them from above as Anka recalled in complete detail another day of his youth when the Tenanken lived beneath the blue sky and the sun.

Before the caves.

A rushing sound filled their ears, and mist hung before them like fog. They came out of the forest at a cliff’s edge where a river cascaded down a steep slope into a green pool surrounded my meadows filled with flowers saturating the mind with color and scent. There were fish swimming in the pool. With effort, Anka suppressed his memories of catching the fish with his bare hands, eating them raw after playing with the slithering animals. Living in caves, the new generations of Tenanken had little contact with forest creatures, and feared them. The Visions were like a dream, and when there is fear the dream can be a nightmare to be escaped by awakening, and so Anka avoided anything that might cause fear. Instead, they only watched the fish swimming, and felt hot sun on their faces. It was an unusual vision, for they did not see each other in it. It was as if each was suddenly alone in the outside world, exploring it for the first time. It was, in fact, the world as seen by a young Tenanken child over a hundred years in the past.

They stayed in the meadow until the grass turned golden, and shadows stretched around them, and then they climbed a steep slope to the base of slate cliffs where they watched the sun turn red and disappear behind a ridge. Birds settled for the night, and antlered creatures with large eyes emerged from stands of trees to browse before them on the hillside. High up on the cliff was the yawning maw of a cave, which they reached by climbing wide, ascending slabs of green rock, and when they had entered it an unseen hand pushed a large tangle of leaves and vines over the entrance so that it was very dark, and then—

They opened their eyes to flickering torchlight and yellow rock walls, and the smell of wood smoke. For some, back in their world-cavern, it was a welcome return, for they felt secure here surrounded by rock on four sides. But for others Anka could feel sadness, could read it in their faces when they opened their eyes. The world of the caves was surely not for them. They needed to be free in open air and sunlight, or they would wither away. And suddenly the plan to infiltrate them into the outside world was good, and newly justified in Anka’s mind. He wondered why he had ever doubted Pegre’s wisdom. Now he was tired, and yawned mightily.

The gathering broke up quietly, everyone going to his or her place on a shelf somewhere in the cavern, and always in view of the others. Baela remained behind for just a moment, smiling at Anka, then lowering her gaze to the floor and rushing away from him. He suspected she had been about to say something to him before suddenly deciding to remain silent. A welcome change from the noise of talk barely understood. Now it was time to sleep, and he struggled to stand, looking up as Maki, his oldest and only living son, made a loud entrance to the cavern, carrying a huge piece of meat over his shoulder.

“Ho, everyone, see what I bring! While all of you are dreaming, some are hunting so that all can eat!” There was a murmur of approval as Maki paraded around the top shelf of the cavern with his burden until reaching Tel, who regarded him coldly. He walked up to her with a wide grin and dropped the huge, bloody mass of flesh at her feet with a grunt. “See, Mother? Not only is it enough here for a feast, but Han and Dorald soon arrive with more like it. Eh?”

“You’ve done well, son of a proud mother. I’m surprised to see you’ve completely butchered the animal. It was an antlered creature, or a boar?”

“A large boar, Mother, fat and choice. They are difficult to find, and fierce to bring down, but my sling found the mark again. We butchered it on the spot because it was so large, and there were only three of us to carry the meat.”

Tel looked closely at her well-muscled son, the square, brooding face and amber eyes, strong shoulders and long arms lightly covered with reddish-brown hair. A beautiful child, as the others had been before dying in a landslide that had nearly broken her heart as well as Anka’s. Maki himself had narrowly escaped death in the accident, and so his life she regarded as a miracle of The World Spirit. Maki’s success in the hunt was far beyond anyone’s, and she had every reason to be proud, but she despised his good-for-nothing friends, and worried about their influence on him.

Tel prodded the chunk of meat with one foot. “There is more, you say? Most boars I’ve seen have been the size of this one piece, and were much leaner.”

“Much more, Mother, a large herd running together. Enough meat for many months, but they move fast, and we will chase them again tomorrow.”

“Be careful, Maki, and don’t allow yourself to be seen by our Cousins. It could be dangerous for all of us.”

Maki’s mouth curled into a snarl. “The cousins, as you call them, are deaf and blind. Why do you make relatives of our enemies?”

“Because we are related, my son. The Plan has said so. We must avoid all contact until the proper time. Please honor this.”

Maki’s face softened. “We disagree about The Plan, Mother, but I will honor what you say. I want only to please you, and my father.”

Tel smiled. “And you do please us, Maki, very much. Here comes you father now. Anka, see what our son has returned with!”

Maki turned, and embraced his father, who was puffing hard from the climb back to the high shelf. Anka clung to his son, patting him on the back, his breath a wheeze again. “Maybe some strength will flow into me if I hold my strong son long enough. It is not so nice to become old.”

They parted, and Anka looked down at the meat. “A choice morsel, but I am also too fat. Someone please take this temptation away from me. I’m going to sleep, now, and as a privilege of my age I will leave the hunting chores to those most capable of performing them.”

It was a strong compliment, and Maki beamed proudly, his mother quietly gratified and soothed by the obvious strong bond between father and son. It neutralized to some extent her worry over his activities with his friends.

Anka shuffled away towards their sleeping cove above the shelves as Maki jerked the meat to his shoulder again. “I’ll leave this in the grotto to cool, Mother. We leave again early in the morning, and I promise you much more of this.” He stalked away with his burden, his mother smiling after him, but her smile faded when she saw Han and Dorald, unkempt and dirty as usual, enter the cavern bending over from the weight of meat slabs on their backs.

Tel’s heart sank as she watched them greet Maki noisily then follow him towards the grotto. She had seen many boar in her advanced age, and no two of the largest had yielded such a quantity of meat. Sadly, she knew with near certainty what kind of animal her son and his undesirable friends had slaughtered.

It was not a forest creature.

NIGHT RAIDERS

Maki awoke at the first sign of fire in the eastern sky. He had slept by the cave entrance the entire night, lulling himself to sleep by watching the sky-lights, and straining to hear sounds rising from the distant town. Twice he had heard laughter, loud and boisterous, had felt a growl of vain anger at the existence of those who lived beneath the sun.

The impotent leaders of the Tenanken, old, wobbly and locked in The Memories, had fled to the caves instead of claiming their heritage under the trees by killing the newcomers when they had first arrived. Now there were too many Hinchai for them to wage war against. Even individually they were dangerous when carrying the pointing weapons that hurled tiny, penetrating missiles at blinding speed. He had first seen such a weapon dropping an antlered one at a distance of hundreds of paces; hiding in a nearby tree, he had stifled a cry, watching the great, bloody hole gush open on one side of the animal. And the sound! His heart had beaten erratically for several minutes after that.

But the ones his father and mother called The Cousins
could
be taken individually, for they were physically weak, and slow afoot. Someday he would surprise one carrying a weapon, and in one violent moment that weapon would be his. Then he would determine who ruled the Tenanken.

The fantasy had kept him awake for several minutes, but then he’d succumbed to the rigors of an exciting day and slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep from which he now awoke alert and refreshed. Han and Dorald were still asleep nearby, two bulky chest-mounds rising and falling in near darkness. They were with him wherever he went, would do whatever he told them to do, he using their strength and easily manipulating the feeble minds of orphans born to inferior parents unable to survive. Both were throwbacks to the days before The Plan when births of the slope-heads were celebrated. The Tenanken elders had been ready to let them die at birth, but Anka had insisted they be suckled by those who had milk, and so here they were at his feet, snoring. He despised them both, but they were useful.

Maki prodded with his foot, then kicked hard.

“Wha—” grunted Han, somewhat the brighter and more alert of the two. “Do we get up, now?”

“Quickly, before first light. We cross the valley this morning. Quiet. I’ll be outside.” Maki pushed the tangle of branches and thorns aside far enough to wiggle through to fir boughs covering the cave entrance, crawling out onto a shelf traversing the wall clear to the valley, and bypassing thick underbrush in the canyon below. There was grumbling inside the cave, then Dorald’s brute face pushed through the branches, grimacing.

“I’m caught on something. Why are we leaving so early?”

“Never mind. You’ll see why later.”

“I’m hungry. I want to eat first before we—owww! What are you doing back there?”

“Shut up! You’re pulling a tree after you. There, I’ve got it,” mumbled Han.

“Hurry up,” said Maki, and in a moment the other two had tumbled out into a heap on the shelf.

“Where do we go?” asked Han.

“We hunt some more. Father was pleased with the meat we brought back, and I want to keep him that way. We’ll go to the next valley; I want to try and find Hidaig and his group, and see if I can talk an alliance. We’ll be out two nights.”

“I should bring my throwing stick,” said Han.

“No, leave it. Your hands must be free for carrying, and my sling is all the weapon we need. Come on, let’s go!” Maki moved off along the shelf, shivering a little in the morning cold. It would not do for them to see him shivering, for their skin fat was so thick they did not feel the cold while his was thin, poorly insulating the lithe body and delicate features he hated.

The shelf remained wide down to the valley, and they moved quickly in a line: Maki, then Han and Dorald following, stomachs grumbling. At the end was a shear drop of a hundred paces, but a chimney big enough even for Dorald. They squeezed into it, backs against one side and feet pressing the other, quickly wriggling their way down to ground level. In a few minutes they reached the edge of tangled underbrush, and stared out at open slopes leading to the valley and forests beyond. This traverse was always dangerous, the place where they were most easily seen. Maki instructed the others, “Stay right behind me, and do exactly as I do. Don’t stop until we reach the trees.”

They nodded gravely at him, so he knew they understood the danger. Maki hunched forward to keep a low profile and moved off at a dog trot, pacing himself so Han and Dorald could keep up and he could be comfortable, for although he had considerably more speed than his companions he did not have their endurance. Under no circumstances could he allow them to see a weakness of any kind in him.

The jog was downhill at first, exhilarating in morning cold, then leveling out on a grassy plain leading to cultivated fields ready for harvest. The Hinchai fields were full of food, and he heard Dorald’s stomach growl at the sight. Better to stop a moment and satisfy the Tenanken’s hunger than to risk a foul temper later in the morning. Maki angled towards the field of thick, tall stalks where they could hide while eating. From there it was only a short sprint to the trees. In a moment they were surrounded by food hanging in silken pods attached to thick, yellow stalks. Vegetables crunched and popped as strong jaws of Tenanken hunters flexed. As they ate, Maki crouched alertly at the edge of the field, his eating style dainty compared to the others. Dorald’s loud belch was a signal to leave, and Maki led them across a plowed field, vaulting a short, wire fence which the others scrambled over clumsily, and then they were hidden from view in the trees.

They kept to the trees all day, climbing out of the valley to a high hill beyond which was solid forest without the stench of Hinchai, an untouched land as in The Memories. Near dusk they came to a hill thick with trees and scattered outcroppings of pegmatite, where they found a small cave littered with tiny bones from which the marrow had been removed. Maki sat at the cave entrance for several minutes, eyes closed, casting a vision of caverns filled with Tenanken and then of a hunter posing with a long spear and a sling, an idealized portrait of himself. There was nothing in return, no gentle, instinctive tuggings to point him in a particular direction. Dorald and Han watched him quietly until he opened his eyes.

“It appears they’ve moved on. I’m sure their caves were near here.”

“I’m hungry again,” said Dorald.

“Of course you are,” said Maki. They hunted until darkness, taking two bushy-tailed tree climbers, partially cooking them over a tiny fire started with Maki’s fire-stones and tinder soaked in sap.

In the morning, after a fitful night crammed together in the little cave, all of them were hungry. Dorald was ravenous.

They followed the forest for hours, watching for game and seeing none, searching each cave for signs of habitation. Privately, Maki worried about the move of Hidaig’s band, small in numbers, but proud and fierce. If they were still around, a welcome would have been sent by now, for Maki’s tall, slender form was easily recognizable at large distances. Why had they moved on?

A few minutes later, Maki had his answer.

Even Han’s stomach was grumbling, now, and Dorald had ceased complaining, eyes glinting dangerously. It was a bad sign; they had to find game soon, or the stupid one would go completely mad, attacking anything or anyone around him. Maki felt both fear and desperation, searching for movement in the trees, but even the birds were still. And then, faintly at first, he heard a sound: grinding, then rapid, clanging beats close together, then again the grinding. It was beyond the trees, and he turned towards it, the others dumbly following. The sound grew louder and louder until Dorald and Han both stopped, eyes wide, and Maki knew he must go on to show his courage and leadership. Tales of his strength and boldness in the face of the unknown had already been told in the caverns, and committed to The Memories forever. His companions were far behind when he reached the brow of a hill, and looked into a shallow valley devastated beyond belief.

Hinchai were everywhere.

Uprooted trees were scattered in all directions, a wide gouge in the earth stretching nearly to the foggy horizon. Hinchai males rode animals pulling huge, shiny monsters spewing white steam and noise, destroying everything in their path. Maki stepped behind a large tree, trying to escape the noise, but it seemed to be coming from all directions, crushing him. He breathed deeply, fighting back panic, then walked back crouched over to where the others waited nervously for him.

“The invasion has begun,” he told them breathlessly. “The main Hinchai force is below, destroying everything in its path. Now perhaps my father will listen to me, and begin to kill our enemy. We must hurry to warn him, and prepare for war!”

“How can we fight so many when they can even destroy the land? We have to move like the other bands, Maki.” Han was nearly pleading. “We can’t go back, now. Let’s find Hidaig’s band, and take some females to make our place where the Hinchai can never find us.”

“And where might that be?”

“To the west. The hills are solid trees to the west, and there are only scattered Hinchai, alone and unprotected. We could make dominance there.”

“You forget that our ancestors
came
from the west. What do you think
they
were fleeing? I’ll tell you what; thousands and thousands of Hinchai, and their noise, and destruction of the land. To return west is to die; it is a stupid suggestion. We must make a stand here, or a little north. It is our last place.”

“Your father will send the Tenanken out to live among the Hinchai. He says they are our cousins, that we are of them in most ways, and can—”

“My father is a foolish and feeble old dreamer who lives with memories of past days
without
Hinchai, and keeps his eyes closed to the present. He has the affliction of the old, and it is up to
our
generation to preserve the lives and dignity of the Tenanken, even if it means war! We will not be forced into Hinchai subjugation, I tell you, and we will retain our identity or die! Do you stand with, or against me in this?” Maki’s voice seethed with the passion of a zealot.

“We follow you where you lead us, Maki,” said Han quietly. Perhaps he actually understood, but Dorald was hopeless, his brain operating at a level only high enough to obtain food and defecate. His usefulness would be limited, although around those who didn’t know him his physical presence was usually intimidating, and Maki could make good use of that.

“For now, we return to the caverns, and try to organize those few who might be willing to fight. Come on.” Maki turned on his heel, and marched away from the noise and steam. The others followed silently until Dorald suddenly giggled, and said, “I kill Hinchai.” Han shushed him, but Maki called back over his shoulder, “Follow me, and you’ll get your chance, but you’ll do it when the time is right.” What kind of fantasy was playing in the big Tenanken’s feeble mind?

They marched until the sun was again low in the sky, and the changing direction of the wind told them evening was fast approaching. Their route remained high on the hills, where Hinchai rarely ventured, and they could see far in every direction. It was Han who first spotted the stream of smoke coming up from the trees. An open fire, or another Hinchai settlement? They were only a half-day march from the caverns, and this was something new. Han pointed it out to Maki.

“It’s on our path, so we’ll look,” said Maki. “I hope it’s a settlement, and they have animals. The Hinchai have scared much game away, and I don’t intend to return empty-handed on this trip.”

They kept to the trees, and descended the hill until they saw a small clearing. Nestled at the edge of it was a substantial cabin, and a small shed with an attached log fence penning in several tusked animals related to others in The Memories.

The men sat on their haunches and watched the place for several minutes. There was no sound except the snorting of the animals. It seemed whoever lived there was away for the moment. They moved in cautiously, following Maki’s hand signals, coming up on the cabin from the nearby trees to give them a quick retreat. They pressed against the wall of the building, listening, then Maki stood up and peered cautiously inside. Nobody there. Three rooms in the structure, and a fireplace, and something else, something he wanted badly. He motioned for the others to come near, and whispered, “There’s nobody here, so we work quickly. You two kill a couple of the smaller animals we can carry away. I’m going inside.”

Dorald was grinning broadly, eager as usual for bloodletting. Maki left them and went to the front of the cabin, pushing, rattling, fiddling with a knob on the entrance cover until it suddenly opened. He studied the mechanism, quickly seeing how the door held shut when unattended, then went inside and shut it behind him. The room was warm, and a pot of food was bubbling over the open flame of an enclosed cooking fire in one corner. Maki only sniffed at it, then went straight to the fireplace over which the long pointing weapon was hung on two wooden pegs. He lifted it off gently, caressing it as he worked the lever until he saw the yellow projectile inside. There were ten others strapped to the broad part of the weapon that went against the shoulder.

It was a weapon he was familiar with, one that had nearly killed him and Dorald in a previous raid. But without projectiles to throw, the weapon wasn’t even a good club. He looked for more projectiles, at last finding them in a box on the ledge above the fireplace. As he took them there was a squeal and a scream from outside, and a sound like the smashing of a gourd against a rock. Dorald laughed loudly, and Han was telling him to shut up, but the laughter continued until there was another pitiful scream, then silence.

Maki searched the rest of the cabin, but found nothing more he wanted. He opened the cabin door and emerged triumphantly, clutching the weapon in one hand over his head. Dorald and Han, blood-spattered, were dragging two carcasses across the ground, stopping when they saw him. “Aieeee, look what
you
found,” cried Han, greatly impressed with the new power his young leader now possessed. “We’ve done well, too. These young boars will make a great feast.” He prodded one carcass with a foot, but was pushed aside by Dorald, who like a child wanted to show off his new treasure as well. The hulking Tenanken held up a new metal axe, now covered with blood, and swung it one-handed around his head with a whirring sound. “With my new club I will split Hinchai skulls, and eat their brains,” he growled.