Chapter 10

The cowering captives slowly came to the realisation that they were no longer being beaten or threatened; that all their guards were gone.

Suddenly, all went silent. Those next to the deceased guards crawled nearer and looked at what were now dead men. Then they stared around in confusion, still not sure what had just happened.

A voice from the trees called out to them, “Go home. You are free.”

If anything, this terrified them more than before, for some blade of justice had cut down their oppressors without even being seen. The ghostly voice repeated, “Go home. You are free,” and this time the message got through. The males took charge and helped the women get to their feet, then started a charge along the trail back to their village tribe. While the women went first, the men acted as protectors, picking up whatever weapons had been dropped by their oppressors and then behaved as skirmishers ready to attack anyone who approached.

As the clearing emptied, John lay there silently and watched them go. He reckoned that either the last of the original attack group would keep running for as long as he could, or he would be caught and be beaten to death by his former victims.

John was pleased with the result, and decided his work here was finished. He could go back and release the other captive group and take them to their home. His walk back to the copse was more jaunty and free from caution, except for the ever-present threat from wild animals. He enjoyed whistling a cheery tune from his childhood memories, and was doing so when he arrived at the copse with its hidden interior space. He called out to the women as he crawled through the entrance, and was welcomed with relief by them all.

“What happened?” they wanted to know, so he told them of reaching the clearing where he had rescued them; of finding the kidnappers present with a new group of captives, but a reduced number of the monsters watching over them. He glossed over the killings, simply saying that he used his weapons to overcome the remaining guards, and released the captives, sending them home on their own.

“They were delighted to be released and rushed off to get home as fast as possible,” He explained. “This now means that I can take you ladies home again to your loved ones.”

He was surprised by the muted response they gave to that revelation, but put it down to the trauma of their abduction and the attack on their tribe. He had long ago put out of his mind the encounter when he first arrived and rescued Numa and Noma, and for some reason the nannites did not remind him, so the matter did not come to his mind at this time.

He led them out of the hiding place and found an open area where they could all stand together and he could speak with them.

His next question caught them by surprise.

“Do you ladies still have your small cooking knives?”

They all nodded, and asked, why the question?

He told them, “You had the ability to fight off the attackers, as they didn’t have sharp weapons, just clubs. Why didn’t you fight them off?”

“Fight men?” they were horrified by the suggestion. “Women don’t fight men! That is unheard of.”
He informed them, “Well, you have heard of it now. In the tribe I came here from, all the women are trained to fight, both with weapons like spear or bow and arrow, and also to fight with bare hands.”

That claim brought them to scoff in amazement. Bare hand fighting? The idea was ridiculous, they knew.

John decided to teach them some moves, and invited any of them to attack him with a knife, while he promised to use only bare hands. One woman was pushed forward, and was revealed as the eldest, at nineteen summers, with the name Karma.

John dropped his knife and crossbow to the ground, and told her to rush at him with her knife in front of her, pushed towards John’s chest. Karma walked cautiously towards him, so he ordered her back and told her, “I said RUSH me, as if you mean it!”

Thus annoyed, she ran at him, hand with knife in front. John simply stepped to the side as she got to him, grabbed her arm and propelled her further on, so that she stumbled and dropped the knife, falling to her knees.

John explained to all the women, “One simple move: make sure you have a secure stance; use your own speed at the last moment, stepping to the side, then grabbing the nearest arm, pull in the same direction your assailant is going. He or she will be off balance and either stumble or fall, or both. That gives you the chance to stamp his head into the ground, or stamp on his back, pull his head back by the hair, and slit his throat.”

“Eh?” was the shocked response by the women, as they had never heard of such a thing. He decided to take this one step further. He spoke to Karma, who was getting back to her feet.

“Are you prepared to be thrown next time?”

She shook her head to clear it, then growled, “I am not that small, as other men have found, mister!”

He smiled, and said, “It is not a matter of size, but leverage. Let me show you, but we will do it slowly, so you can see what can happen and not get hurt.

She agreed, so he had her walk towards him, and he explained, “Your momentum – your rush, brings you to me, so all I have to do is get your body to change its momentum into another direction.” He pretended she was rushing him, and forced her over his hip, bringing her legs up so that her weight carried her over him and down onto her back. It was awkward to do so efficiently, and he had to do all the lifting, but the point was made. She fell over onto her back.

John pointed out, “Once on your back, with the breath knocked out of you, you are exposed to a knife cut to the throat. See what I mean?”

The women were astounded. The smallest and youngest asked, “Could you teach us to do that? I don’t mean real fighting, but a clever move like that would deter any man trying to force himself on you.”

“Young woman, that IS real fighting! Fighting is beating an opponent, and what you have seen does just that, don’t you agree?”

They accepted what he had just said, and he offered to show all of them these two simple moves, so that they would be better prepared in any future attack.

“We will go through the basics again, and as we walk back to your tribe, we can practice over and over again, until you have learned to use the moves without thinking too much about it.”

They gave me happy smiles, and we set off, adding to our food supply and eating as we went. It was mostly berries and nuts plucked from trees and bushes, but that was good food always. Meat might have been a bonus, but it was not on today’s menu. Our march was much faster than when they were going the opposite way as prisoners, and we were close to their tribe by the time I halted them.

“Ladies, we are going to camp here tonight, so that you are fresh in the morning. I don’t want you arriving tired from a day’s walking. You are my team of fighters, remember!”

That brought about more smiles, and they set about making camp. The eldest one sidled over to me for a quiet talk.

“John,” she said (he had told them to call him John; as he didn’t want any titles obscuring their attention to learning). “John, I need you to know something before we walk into the village.”

This sounded intriguing, so John waved for her to go on.

“Both my parents are dead, and I was taken on a couple of years ago by my mother’s brother and his wife. He was not very nice, and was perhaps over-friendly, if you get my meaning. I would prefer not to return to his household, so if I ask to remain with you, are you fine with that plan?”

John blinked as he took on this proposal, then said to her, “Let me tell you, I have a fair number of wives at home, and a number of children and others on the way. You still interested in remaining with me?”

Her face showed shock at this news, but she took on a determined look.

“Anything will be an improvement for me. You have no objection to me, I hope?”

“None at all. In fact, that news explains why you are not married by this time. I would guess that your uncle frowns on any man wanting to take you away from his control.”

“That is correct, John. Will you stand up for me if there is any trouble with him?”

“Gladly. I have never liked bullies and sexual predators. I will do whatever has to be done, Karma.”

She grinned, leaned over and kissed him gently, saying, “You are the first man I have kissed, John.”

John’s eyes widened. That suggested she was still a virgin despite her uncle’s behaviour. He sent her back to organise the camp. John made his own sleeping site on the side nearest the trail, and went off to sleep. He was disturbed during the night by a body cuddling up to him. From her smell, he guessed it was Karma, and accepted her presence with a smile.

In the morning, she was still there, and commented, “You smell nice, John, lying beside me. I could get used to that.”

“We’ll see if that can be arranged, Karma.”

She smiled broadly as she went to wake the other women. Shortly thereafter, they were back in line behind John as he marched them along the trail to the little village.

Arriving at the outskirts, he expected to find an alert sentry, but there was none. He frowned, and walked on.

As they entered the tribal village, some older women were tending the morning fire, but otherwise there was little movement to be seen.

John got their attention.

“Halloo the village! You have a visitor.”

Some sleepy adults and children slowly exited their huts and viewed John with his entourage of young women. Their surprise at such a sight changed to amazement when they realised that the lost women had returned. Someone must have run to rouse the Chief and tribal Shaman, as they now put in an appearance.

The women behind John spread out to stand on both sides of him in a row. The Chief at first gave a welcoming smile, then the Shaman came and whispered to him. Making a guess at what might happen, John announced loudly, “Greetings, Chief. I am Shaman John, bringing back your lost children, safe and sound. Greetings, Shaman, thank you for welcoming these worthy ladies back to your tribe.”

The Chief stood with his mouth open, unsure now about what he should say. The local Shaman had no such doubts.

“Greetings, Shaman John. As is traditional, a stolen woman cannot be returned to her family, as she is deemed soiled, not worthy to return to us.”

As the girls with him recoiled, John smiled at the tribal Shaman and spoke loudly to him, “Greetings, Shaman no-name. Tradition is what is decided by a tribe as worth continuing each generation.

The tribes I serve long ago decided that a stupid tradition, such as the one you have just declared, is an out-dated and useless custom, not worthy to be given voice to anymore. To lose a woman to a raid is a loss; to refuse to accept her back is a disaster for her family. If all your women were taken and never allowed back, your tribe would be dead, would it not?

Just think: no women to bear children; no mothers to teach children; no wives to keep a man happy; is that what you are aiming for? Not only that, but these women are able to be fighters for the tribe, if the men are unable to protect them.”

The unnamed Shaman bristled.

“My name is Shaman Monono, I will have you know! You have an odd view of women, Shaman John. We all know that women are not fighters.”

John called back, “Really? Care to test your assumption?”

The Shaman called to a man, “Choro? Go take the woman you wanted, Barma, to show this man up as a fraud.”

Choro strode towards the line of women, and Barma adjusted her stance while the surrounding women moved away to make space for her. Not paying attention to this, Choro hurried to reach for his target. She stepped to the side, grasped his outstretched arm and pulled him forward, adding a foot for him to trip over. The man fell flat on his face, and Barma placed her foot firmly on his head, declaring, “Choro is not fit to be my man. He is too easily defeated by a woman.”

John chuckled, “Well done, Barma. I think you have made your point for Shaman Monono, who will now apologise for his false words.”
That Shaman was staring at the scene of the man Choro flat on his face with the female Barma’s foot holding him down in a defeated position.

Monono mumbled, “My estimation may have been wrong, it seems. You are not a fraud, I admit. What have you done with these women?”

“Nothing much,” John declared, “Simply taught them that a warrior is an occupation, not a sexual status. The tribes where I am Shaman have a warrior class that does not care whether you are a man or a woman, but whether you can fight and win.

Any female warrior of my tribes can, I assure you, defeat any male warrior in your tribe. They are well trained, you see, just like any master of a trade is trained in his own trade. I have seen a squad of female warriors loose a shower of arrows into the camp of an invading army and kill or injure many soldiers, then walk off and disappear with not a single casualty of the battle, much the same as I had to dispose of the monsters who attacked your tribe and abducted these women.”

“Eh? What?” queried the Chief. “Are you claiming to have killed all of the attackers by yourself?”

John waved this claim aside. “Not at all. They attacked another tribe and lost several of their men in the process. I merely had to deal with the remaining captors and release their prisoners to go home by themselves. Then I went back to where these women were hiding, and we came home to you, knowing you would be glad to see them home again.”

At this, a man from one of the huts intervened.
“I for one will welcome back our own Karma.”

Karma glanced at John then announced, “After what has happened, I have decided that I will remain with Shaman John, so goodbye, uncle. You can find another teenage woman to bother with your wandering hands.”

This public outing of her uncle’s abuse caused consternation in the tribe, and the Chief frowned, looking to Shaman Monono for help. That shaman shrugged, saying, “I had not heard of that, Chief.”

John heard his words and announced, “You have heard it now, Shaman Monono. The woman accuses her uncle and refuses to return to his hearth. Instead, she has opted to leave with me as her protector. If the uncle makes any attempt to force her, then I will simply kill him. Is that clear enough for you?”

The Shaman gulped, and then the Chief said, “The uncle will make no such attempt; I have made that order and it will be obeyed. Are there any other women who have reason to object to returning to their home hearth?”

John cast his eyes over the other women in the line, but none showed any objection. He declared, “In that case, these ladies will return to their homes. I have given them permission to pass on certain fighting techniques to other women in the tribe. As to the men, it is up to the men to ASK if they can be granted such training. There is no obligation on the women to train the men. I have spoken, and if any man tries to force a woman to divulge the training exercises, then if someone notifies me, I will come back and deal with the man who thinks he knows best. Of course, in the interim one of the trained women may decide to kill him secretly instead, without her identity being revealed. These women know things that your men do not know, Chief, but I leave you to run your own tribe. I and Karma will be leaving as soon as the other ladies are welcomed by their families.”

The tribe settled down to sort out their internal matters, and John and Karma walked to the uncle’s hut to speak with his wife and family; to say farewell to them. From the way Karma was welcomed by the uncle’s wife, she was aware of the offences but had stayed silent for the sake of her children.

Shortly afterwards, John visited the Chief and formally ended his visit. He quietly informed the Chief that back on his own territory he was High Chief to several tribes who used him as a guide who did not interfere with each Chief’s control within each tribe.