Chapter 23
– Kenz’ox –
I leave Aker’iz sleeping inside the ship, with the hatch only barely cracked open. I can’t bring her on hunts, because she could make noises at the worst times. And I do need to hunt, especially now that she’s developed a taste for carefully mashed-up meat.
The jungle is dense, humid, and hot. I thoughtlessly walk out of the clearing exactly where Dorie did, and now I see the tracks she left. I should turn to the side and deliberately go in another direction, but something makes me follow the path where she left forever.
Her tracks aren’t easy to see. She has learned good junglecraft, but only the best may walk in the woods without leaving tracks at all. And she hasn’t had time to be that good.
She walks mostly straight, but sometimes she veers to the side, then tries to find the right direction again. It’s not the path of someone who’s used to walking in the jungle. I would choose a different way around trees, for example. But she’s doing well.
After a while, I start to worry. She’s not correcting her direction and seems to be slowly circling back towards the beach.
I have a strong urge to follow her, to see her again. But there’s no time for that. She’s been walking for over a day now, and I have to get back to Aker’iz as soon as I can.
Finally, I spot the tracks of a fresil, and I turn away from Dorie’s path. “Go safely, my love,” I whisper.
With my mind full of dark thoughts, I walk right into them, and they spot me first. The first I notice is the sound of swords being drawn.
“Kenz’ox,” says a bored-sounding voice. “We keep running into you.”
It’s Frant’ex, Emar’oz, and Torkz’ik. And three other men from my tribe. All have their swords out.
“Because you keep trespassing on my turf,” I counter as I draw mine. “What do you expect?”
“Last time you threatened to fight us if we didn’t leave your turf,” Emar’oz says with a little smile. “Well, here we are again. What will you do?”
“I can still fight you,” I tell him. “All six. Shall I remind you what happened last time I was attacked by six tribesmen?” The last thing I want is to fight. I have to get home to Aker’iz. But these men will be suspicious if I back down.
“Those were other men,” Torkz’ik points out. “And they didn’t know that you would actually use your blade on your own tribesmen. We know you will.”
“You’re not my tribesmen,” I tell them, scanning the jungle for an escape. “I left your worthless tribe. Imagine how much less I will care about killing you six.” They might be able to follow my tracks back to the ship. Or they may not.
They spread out, trying to encircle me. Frant’ex bares his teeth in a smile that isn’t a smile. “You won’t drop even one of us,” he sneers. “But we’ll carve you up, take your sword, and lay it at the chief’s feet.”
I retreat a step, refusing to let them close the ring. “The chief?” I snap. “He’s several moons from here. By the time you crawl back to him, he’ll barely remember your names.”
Torkz’ik’s smirk is all malice. “The chief is closer than you think. Maybe we’ll drag you to him and let him finish you. Tell me, does today feel like a good day to die?”
Something’s wrong here. Today?
“Oh, any day is suitable for you to die,” I tell them, still walking backward. “I can certainly help with that.”
There’s a sharp whip-crack of leather. Something yanks tight around my ankle. I struggle to keep my balance before I fall backward. Immediately, all six men are upon me, swords flashing. I slash my own blade at them, but in a halfway sitting position it’s a useless gesture.
Before I know it, the tips of six blades are right at my throat, pushing in.
Holy and honored Ancestors, watch over my little Aker’iz and Dorie…
But the final thrust into my throat doesn’t come. Instead, someone knocks me on the head with a club. For a moment, the world is all stars and then darkness. Something warm trickles through my hair as I raise my head from the ground again.
“We think you’re hiding something from us,” Emar’oz snarls, throwing the club away.
“We don’t think that girl is dead. You keep coming here like a man defending his tribe.
But you don’t have a tribe. So this time we were ready for you.
You’ve never seen a tripwire snare before?
We set up many, all around our old camp. ”
“Every man needs to hunt, even if he’s alone,” I try as I sit up, feeling dizzy.
“And this is my turf.” If I were alone, I’d fight these men to the death.
But if I die, it means Aker’iz dies, too.
She will starve to death inside that Plood ship.
I have to stay alive as long as I can and try to escape.
“Mmm,” Emar’oz says. “We’ll let the chief and the shaman decide. We’ll take you to them now. Will you let us tie you up without resisting, or do we have to cut you?”
For a moment, I tense up to attack them. Then I let go of my sword. “No need to spill blood in vain.”
They tie me up with sturdy leather straps, and then I walk through the jungle with the tips of two swords at my back. If they’re taking me to the village, we’ll be walking like this for several moons. It will give me many chances to escape.
“You see,” Torkz’ik says as he falls into step beside me, “the tribe is moving. It was decided right after you left. Our turf is too small. We keep running into other tribes, and you know how hard it is to hunt. Someone said we should follow you. Because surely the magnificent Kenz’ox would seek out a good place to live.
Surely you would find good turf. And then we would have a new turf, a new village, and a small girl. ”
I test the straps that bind my wrists. They’re solid. If not, I could snap them and try to snatch his sword. “A girl? The chief changed his mind about her?”
Torkz’ik steps over a root. “He realized that a baby girl may one day become a woman. And then, we would be the only tribe with a woman. Not the Woman, perhaps. Or maybe this was the Ancestors’ way of giving us the Woman?
The shaman said it might be. He said that the girl being taken out of the Lifegiver could set in motion great changes for the tribe, and that we should follow the girl.
And you. So we were sent ahead, while the tribe was being packed up.
We left a trail for them to follow as we tracked you and the girl.
If we thought that you had found a good place, and that you had stopped, we were to kill you, but not the girl. ”
“You didn’t kill me,” I reply, my mind dark because I didn’t kill those three when I had the chance. “Even though Aker’iz is dead.”
“We did not,” he agrees. “And now our orders have changed. We are to take you to the chief, and you can tell him where the girl is. He intends to lay claim to her as his, as I’m sure you understand. She is the only girl in the jungle.”
I force a dry laugh, though my stomach feels like ice. “He’ll be a long time searching. Even I can’t find her little pyre anymore.”
“I don’t think he will search for a cold pyre,” Torkz’ik says. “I think you will tell him where the living girl is. Whether you want to or not. Because who will feed her now that you are bound? Ah, here we are.”
It looks like any part of the jungle, dense and humid. But there’s a lot of movement and sounds. The Tratena tribe is building a camp for the night, it seems.