Journey to Eden
Chapter 3: Flight

Copyright© 2017 by Friar Tuck

Dann warily made his way to the first sleeping hut, where he encountered several bodies, all of them mutilated and defiled. Here were Feg, and E’dan, and their two children, all still grasping what weapons they had been able to pick up. Here also was a pool of red that accounted for the blood on the point of Feg’s spear. He had at least wounded one of the attackers, and from the amount of blood on the ground, it appeared to have been a mortal wound. But he, and his wife and children, had paid dearly.

It was the same in the other sleeping hut, as well as in the cooking shelter. Group members, surprised in their daily routines, had been slaughtered. And from the signs, it had been merciless, silent, and quick. Here was old Aya lying near her customary seat, her eyes still open in shock, but still with almost a look of fearless defiance on her face. No longer would she craft garments for the hunters. Dann fingered the beadwork on his shirt, and, unashamed by the tears running down his face, voiced a silent promise to her, of vengeance and retribution on those who had murdered her. He murmured words of sorrow as he reached to close her sightless eyes. He covered her with the shawl she had been mending, then turned away.

He turned to the wood pile, where they had seen the protruding foot, and was surprised to see that it was gone! Crouched in readiness, he waited and watched for some movement, but there was no sign of life there at all. Cautiously he moved toward the pile, peering at the ground for any sign of what had happened there. He saw a spot of blood, and bent to look closer, and suddenly sensed movement nearby. Instinctively, he threw up an arm to ward off an attacker, and suffered a glancing blow from a piece of firewood aimed at his head. Dazed, he rolled into, instead of away from his attacker, taking him off his feet, and pinning him to the ground. His knife was descending in a killing thrust when his arm was stopped by a stronger hand, and he heard Seth’s voice behind him. “Hold!” said the man. “It is Aard, and he is hurt. He has lost consciousness again. Help me carry him back to Tia, so she can tend to him while we search further.” Between them, they picked up the boy, and Seth carried him, while Dann, nursing a sore head, watched for further sign of danger.

Tia made a place for the injured boy in one of the sleeping huts, and began tending the nasty bruise that had begun to form at the base of his neck. “I don’t think there are any broken bones,” she said after a cursory look at him, “but it’s a wonder he still has use of his arm, after a blow like this.” She applied a poultice of cool, wet leaves to the injury, and bound it with a piece of the bark cloth that the Group made for many uses. Made from the inner bark of the willow and birch trees, it could be woven into a tough, resilient fabric for carry bags, or into a soft, absorbent cloth used to clothe babies, or, as in this case, to bandage wounds. “This should ease some of the pain,” she said, as she placed other leaves into a pot of water that she had heated for a tea. “It will also help him to sleep later.”

They all turned, startled by a sudden sound from behind the hut, and Seth spun out of the door with his axe ready. Dann stood ready, over the crouching Tia and the still unconscious Aard. “Peace!” whispered Seth, entering the hut once more, guiding a woman before him. She was Doe, also of the Group, and the mate of one of those defenders slain near the fire pit. She had fallen in her flight, but had not been seriously injured, only dazed and confused by the suddenness of the evil that had fallen upon them. Uncomprehending, she looked at the four who had found her.

Her eyes suddenly widened in recognition of what had happened, and she opened her mouth to scream. Tia reacted instantly, and placed the bandage cloth over Doe’s mouth to muffle the scream before it could be voiced. “You are safe now,” she whispered, and she shook the confused woman back to reality. “You’re hurt, but you’re safe. Here, let me help you, but you must be quiet.”

Doe relaxed, and nodded, and looked about for her husband. “Where is Ran,” she whimpered, already knowing what must be. “Is he...” She began to sob quietly when she saw the look on Seth’s face, but her voice steadied as memory slowly returned her to reality. “Yes, I saw him fall under them.” She raised her head in pride, and defiantly exclaimed, “But I saw him kill two of them before he fell.” Her voice fell to a whisper, “He died bravely.”

“They all died bravely,” said Seth, “as we must live bravely.” He motioned to Dann to follow him, and went back out the door, into the gathering gloom of the compound. “We cannot stay here now, Dann. We must assemble the dead for their final journey, and then we must leave this place.” The younger man nodded in agreement as he continued. “I suspect they will come back within a day, perhaps two, but no more than that. We must be gone when they return. Quickly then, let us prepare.”

Dann saw the momentary resignation in his mentor’s face, and the slump in his shoulders, and placed his hand on Seth’s arm. “We will be ready for what comes, my father, and as you said, we will live bravely. Shall we place them in the cooking hut? There is plenty of firewood there, and room for them.” When Seth nodded his assent, Dann and Tia began the sad task of carrying the bodies of their friends to the assembly place and arranging them for the ritual burning. As they did this, they recorded the names for remembrance. Here was Aya, on her litter, Dag the Elder, Feg and his family, D’ar, Aard’s parents, Pac, the old hunter who had been Seth’s mentor, Doe’s husband Ran, and several more.

Aard, who had regained consciousness and rejoined them, faltered at the sight of his mother and father, and fell to his knees. Seth quickly moved to him and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. The boy looked up, and said, “They are my parents, Seth, but I cannot cry.” He stood, his mouth twisted, and said, “Crying is for children. They would be ashamed of me.”

Seth put his arm around the youngster, and Dann also moved close beside him in support. Seth said, “They would see no shame in a man’s tears for his loved ones, nor do I. Many tears were shed over the loss of Dann’s family. Many of those were my own. We may sometimes postpone them, but we should never let those tears dry up completely, for there are times they wash our eyes, and let us see and remember more clearly the lessons taught to us by those who have gone away.” He and Dann both hugged the boy, then returned to their sad task.

Tia looked around the small common area, “But there are still some missing,” she said. “Where is my mother? Where is Fila, and Peng, and Aya’s son, Tol? And Wen is not here either.”

“I fear they have been taken captive,” said Seth, “taken back to the camp of the Drogs for sport, or for slaves, or both.” Seeing her shudder at this, he said, “Yes, their fate will be terrible, unless we can do something about it ourselves. We will discuss it after we tend to these.” He called softly to the rest, and gathered them for the farewell. They all stood silently as Doe named each of the dead, and as the list was spoken they bowed in respect, then repeated each name. When the last was named, Seth stepped forward again and pronounced the ritual words of farewell. Then he struck fire to the dry wood that was stacked around and among the bodies, and stepped back once again. They all raised their arms in a farewell to their dead, and in unison repeated the words that Seth had spoken. Then they turned away.

 
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