Gateway - What Lies Beyond - Cover

Gateway - What Lies Beyond

Copyright© 2016 by The Blind Man

Chapter 23

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 23 - Jacob Ryerson is part of a scientific team that is going to step back through time for the very first time in an attempt to study early man. Jacob is a military man and he knows that no plan ever goes the way people intend it to once that plan is implement. Naturally nobody listens to the ex-Special Forces Staff Sergeant and just as naturally everything goes to shit. Thankfully Jacob is along for the ride to help clean up the mess.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Consensual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Far Past   Time Travel   Exhibitionism   Violence  

We left the next morning just after dawn and right after breakfast. My people were ready to go, and thankfully Gogra and his people were ready as well. We formed up on the other side of the stream and then, after a final farewell from Agar we were off.

Gogra rode beside me, riding on my left. We were mounted. Behind us our joint party marched, with my group on one side and Gogra’s on the other. Hopefully in time, once acquaintances had been made, the two groups would become one. We’d see. Eventually it would have to happen, for while the pass was reasonably wide for most of its length, there were places where the sides of the pass narrowed and our group would have to take that into account.

Agar had given me twelve more horses. Some of them were drawing travois laden down with skins and huge balls of string. The others had been distributed to my handlers, to pull their travois. Balto had two and Moya had one. In truth, they didn’t have much.

The herd moved at the rear of our group. I’d given Tonko and Sygor the job of leading the bull. For that they were mounted. I would spell them off as the trek continued, but for now they were my best choices for the job. It did give them a break from walking.

By nightfall we’d reached the foot of the lake. We camped there. While our people took the time needed to set up camp, I took Gogra fishing. It was another first for the older man. I’d planned ahead when we’d packed up our cave. I’d put my fishing net in a place I could find it easily. While we fished I explained to Gogra that there were a number of ways to fish, depending on the types of water you were fishing and how many fish you were after. I even pointed out that my net would work better if it was towed along like a travois behind a boat. Naturally, I then had to explain what a boat was.

We tried the net for a bit with limited success. I did pull in two lake trout to the delight of Gogra, but they were small by my judgment of weight and I threw them back in to let them get bigger. It wasn’t as we were short of meat. Rugar and Gabon had dropped a pair of wild cattle on the trek today and they were even now being cooked. The fishing was just a way to get Gogra away from the group so we could chat in peace.

I did have a couple of fishing poles with me as well. As I said, I’d planned this before leaving our cave. They were two slim saplings that had been stripped of bark, sized for use, and sanded down. I’d tied a length of string to each pole and had attached a bone hook to the string. I baited the hooks and we tossed them into the water. I found us a nice spot to sit and chat while the worms drowned, and that is what we did. It was a large flat rock that jutted out into the lake. There was a bed of reeds on the upstream side of the rock and I had Gogra drop his line in there.

We didn’t really talk much about anything in particular. Mostly I found out about the people in his group. Baylor had brought his mate and his son who was fourteen and ready to take a mate. Gogra had brought his mate as well but his own children had left home long ago. The four men that Gogra had brought with him had all been hunters, until they had gotten too old to chase after game. They now fed themselves by trading string or other crafts to hunters who brought them food. Two were weapons makers who wanted to learn how to make bows, arrows, and better lances; and one worked leather and wanted to know how to make saddles, lariats, and tack. The last had been sent by Agar to learn about what to make from the milk collected from the cows. The taste of butter had tantalized Agar’s imagination and he wanted more, as usual. In total, including Gogra, there were fourteen Horse People travelling with us. Only the fourth man had a child with him out of all the craftsmen, and that child was a ten year old daughter.

Gogra got lucky. He actually caught a fish. It was in fact a fair size fish and we kept it. I showed him how to land the fish first, and then I showed him how to scale the animal and gut it. That night I roasted it up for Gogra at my fire and served it to him. It was his first taste of lake trout and he loved it.


We made the foothills two days later and the pass two days after that. We were making great time and for the most part we were having no problems with our two groups travelling together. Our only real problem was related to Trika.

Sygor hadn’t made a decision yet as whether he was going to take Trika as a mate or one of the two Horse People girls. I’d spoken to him once we’d returned to the cave, hoping for a decision, and then I’d spoken to him when Balto and the two girls had joined our tribe. So far, Sygor was undecided. I had even suggested to him that he could have them all. From my perspective pluralistic marriages were fine so long as everyone was happy in the relationship and there was a system in place to protect anyone who wanted to leave the relationship or who was being abused by it. In my tribe I was ‘the system, ‘ and I certainly would protect any woman being abused by their mate. That hadn’t enticed Sygor at all. I really started to think that the young man wanted one of his own people as a mate. Unfortunately he wouldn’t pick one of the women who’d joined our cave. To him they were still unsuitable because their previous mates had been killed. It didn’t matter what I said on the topic. To him, they were unlucky, at the very least.

The problem arose when Trika met Jotar, the son of Baylor. Jotar wasn’t indecisive. He wanted to mate with Trika by the end of the second day of our trek, and Trika was of the same mind. While I had mixed feelings on the idea, I wasn’t totally opposed to it. I did declare it would not happen before we reached the new cave, and it certainly wouldn’t happen before the cave had been properly established. I did promise to speak about it between everyone involved and negotiate a good marriage deal for them both. Sygor on the other hand got pissed.

Matters devolved right after I’d made my decision known. I don’t know what Sygor had expected me to do, given the way he’d been stringing Trika along since winter; but his response was unacceptable. I spoke to his sister after his first outburst of rudeness. He’d snubbed Tonya over breakfast when she’d come to gather plates to be cleaned before we moved out. I’d let it slide for the moment, but I didn’t let it go. My conversation with Taka proved to be very short and not very sweet. Sygor had been rude.

Taka said she’d speak to him. I told her I would give her a chance. She had explained it wasn’t a cultural issue that I had no clue about. To her Sygor was acting like a little boy. To be exact he was acting like a very little boy considering how most of the boys acted in our tribe. Gort set the example and everyone followed it. I treated him like a man as I did the other hunters. All the boys emulated him. Sygor was acting worse than the youngest in our cave. I gave Taka until supper to have Sygor apologize, or I would deal with him myself.

Sygor didn’t apologize. It was now my turn to speak to him.

“Sygor,” I said to the young man when he sat himself down for his meal, “I wish to speak to you. Please come with me, now.”

The abruptness in my voice told everyone that I wasn’t in a good mood. Sygor hesitated. His sister had been about to hand him a plate of food. The fact that I had risen and had stepped away from the fire, told Sygor that the food could wait; but he actually hesitated in moving. It caused the air around the fire pit to grow still. Eventually, he got up and followed me away from the fire. We walked away from the fire and into the woods. I took my carbine with me just in case. Sygor picked up his bow.

“What is wrong with you, Sygor?” I asked the young man once we were well away from listening ears. “Why have you been rude to Tonya, and then to me? It is not like you.”

“You know why,” Sygor snapped back sharply, his face colouring when I shot him a stern look.

“You will speak to me with respect, Sygor,” I stated firmly, yet keeping my voice calm. “I have always done so with you. I will not tolerate such behaviour from anyone. Now answer my question. What is wrong?”

“You have promised Trika to Jotar,” Sygor declared in a whine. “That’s not fair. You know I wanted her for my mate.”

“Yes, I knew you were interested in the young woman,” I acknowledged without hesitation, keeping my voice calm as I said it, “just as I know that you are interested in Tisa and Sapha. In fact I have spoken to you twice in the past month about making a choice. So far you haven’t. Now Jotar has made a choice. He wishes to be mated to Trika. I’ve told him I would think about it.”

“But that is not fair,” Sygor cried out in protest, his voice still sounding whiny. “I spoke to you last winter about taking Trika as a mate. You thought Trika was not ready to be mated. You said that I could speak to you again once summer had past and we were preparing for winter again. Now you have decided that Jotar can mate Trika. You can’t do that!”

“First, Sygor, I haven’t done anything and you know it,” I told the young man sternly, my voice beginning to take on an edge in response to Sygor’s tone and behaviour. “I have simply told the young man I would think about it, and I have warned him that Trika will not be mated until after our new cave has been properly established. By my estimates that will not be until summer is over and we have prepared for winter. So in a manner of speaking I have told Jotar the same thing that I have told you. The second thing you must note, is that if you continue to whine and act like a boy instead of a man, then I will treat you like a boy! I brought you here to speak in private so as not to embarrass you. You, on the other hand, are shouting and yelling and anyone within miles of us will know exactly what you have been saying. Now you may continue behaving like a boy, or you may start acting as a man. It is your choice!”

Sygor was not happy with me calling him a child. He started to puff up to protest some more when I looked at him sharply. That took the wind out of his sails. Sygor was a fit young man of sixteen years. His body was hardened by years of hunting and living in a world that was harsh, but I was twice his age, almost a foot taller than he was, and over fifty pounds heavier, all of which was muscle. While I hoped matters wouldn’t devolve into violence, I made it clear with my stance and bearing that I would not tolerate him behaving like a child any longer.

Sygor’s shoulders slumped in response and he let out his breath in a long, deep sigh. Then he looked away, too embarrassed to try and meet my gaze. I felt sorry for him, kind of anyway, but I didn’t give him an inch.

“I realize you are friends with Trika,” I told Sygor after a moment of silence, “and personally I think that is a good thing. Two people who are friends make better mates than two who join together either hating each other or purely out of lust. Personally, I would rather see you mated with Trika. My reasons are selfish, though, and I will try not to let them have any bearing on my decision. The fact is, Jotar is a hunter of the Horse People. If he mates with Trika, then next spring when the pass is clear she will leave with Jotar. I don’t want that, but if Trika does want Jotar, then it will happen, and I will not interfere.”

“But you’re the chief of the tribe,” Sygor pointed out vehemently. “You can say no!”

“I could,” I admitted, “but I won’t! Not if Trika truly wants Jotar. Besides, Sygor, what will happen to Trika if I say no? Will you take her as your mate? Will you take care of her and be her man? What will you decide?”

Sygor couldn’t answer me. He looked away embarrassed. I sighed in response to that.

“Sygor, you must make a choice,” I told him bluntly. “You are not being fair to any of the three women that you’ve shown interest in. I will give you the same amount of time as I’ve given Trika and Jotar. In that time you must decide what you want to do. If you wish Trika to be your mate then you must show her that. You will have two months to woo her, if that is what you want. In the meantime you will not be rude to Tonya, or to any other person, whether they are part of our tribe or not. If you are rude then I will punish you. If you do not accept my punishment, then I will remove you from this tribe! Do you understand me, Sygor? You will not be asked twice.”

Sygor answered that he understood me. I hoped he did. I really didn’t want to have to prove to him that I was serious about punishing him. It certainly wouldn’t make him happy.


The matter seemed resolved after that. Sygor did keep his distance from Jotar whenever the other young man was around; however, he also remained polite to those around him. As far as I was concerned, that was fine. Hopefully the lad would make a decision before he found it was too late.

In the meantime we moved up into the pass. Here our trek slowed. While the wheels gave us increased mobility I wasn’t willing to risk pushing it just in case an accident happened. I was inspecting axles on a daily basis to make certain they were still intact and the wood hadn’t split. I’d have loved to have greased the hubs on both the wheels and the rollers, but I didn’t have much. What stocks we’d accumulated last fall from rendering down our kills had been used up over the winter cooking and waterproofing winter wear, and once spring had come, there’d been almost no time to accumulate more, what with the need to pack up and move. So far we’d been lucky. I found some wear, but it wasn’t too serious yet. With luck I wouldn’t have to change an axle until we got settled in our new cave.

Travelling at a slower pace allowed Gogra and me to do a little exploring on the way to the other side of the mountain. While the first two-thirds of the pass were essentially a gentle climb towards the crest and the last third that wound downward towards the far side of the mountain, the route was not just a flat stretch of highway to be navigated. It had its bumps and turns and it most certainly had its scenery. There were hills buttressing both the path and the mountains that we were travelling through. There were open highland meadows, a gully that needed crossing, and tall, majestic heights that stood over us and blocked out the sun. We saw mountain goats and deer, and we heard the cry of wolves at night.

The gully we crossed had been but a blip on our travels when we rode through the pass the first time around. This time it was a test of our resolve. My concern about having no brakes to stop the trailers as the horses pulled them down the slope to the bottom of the gully and then back up the other side brought our march up short. I sent many of our people across the gully first so that if an accident occurred then fewer would be injured. Then I tied a rope to the eyes on the back of the pup trailer and I wrapped those ropes about nearby trees to ensure that if the trailer did slip we would be able to stop it before it crashed into the horse pulling it.

It worked well, though it slowed us down even more. We quickly learned how to do it, though, and in due time we got all the trailers and the sleds through the gully. Then we were off again, reassured that once we reached the last third of the trek, we would be ready for it.


There are good things about travelling with a herd of cattle, even if they slow you down. If you don’t make a kill during the day then there is always cow for dinner. It is as simple as that. Luckily, we’d only had to do that once. A drawback however was that cattle drew the attention of pests, particularly in the dead of night. It was to be expected.

Naturally I posted guards every night. While others slept and that included the people who’d worked with the cattle all day long driving them behind our column, others stood watch. As always, I was one of them.

I liked the early evening or early morning shifts. It wasn’t because I could get more than a few hours of unbroken sleep either after or before my shift. It was because I’d come to realize that predators liked to grab a quick bite to eat early in the evening if at all possible, or just before dawn when most prey were at their most vulnerable. It meant that most nights if something came around I was the first to spot the pesky bastards.

As I said, most nights we listened to the howling of wolves. Sometimes the howls were far away and sometimes they were close. A couple of times one or two tried for one of our herd. They never got close to succeeding. I made sure of that with my night sight feature on my scope allowing me to see the pest as it snuck forward, and a backup armed with a bow waiting to take the animal down.

For the most part I played spotter. I’d put myself near the herd, but at a point that I could see all about our camp and the surrounding terrain. On that night I was above the herd on a small shelf jutting out of the side of the rock face that formed one side of the corral. It gave me an excellent view on three sides of me.

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