Chapter 4

As they walked in the dust of the goats, Zithrusa had John practice with her bow, designating one arrow as a practice arrow, removing it's head and binding it with sinew to prevent it from splitting. John shot that arrow again and again, getting better and better at hitting his mark, and strengthening his arms. After they arrived at the now abandoned meeting spot they learned that the family was heading for an off season camp about four weeks away. They had left two days before, so they could catch up if they hurried. Zithrusa showed no inclination to catch up, and they maintained a pace to follow behind, arriving at each overnight spot exactly two days behind the main group.

Zithrusa spent this time training John to respond to her cues, and with practice, it was unnoticeable that she was guiding him like he was her flesh puppet. She taught him how to interact with various people, the differences in greeting the headmen and the males of lesser status than John. She decided to just let his lack of sept and guild tattoos speak for themselves- A leader of men wouldn't belong to such organizations, but would rather command them. Most princes did not have tattoos, which made it difficult to impersonate such lofty personages for those of more humble origin.

She taught him how to behave as a member of the tribe, that the left hand side of the tent as you entered was for the women and girls only, while respected elders ruled over the back. To always go to the right side when bidden enter the tent, after clapping thrice and waiting for the response. He should bow his head until his eyes had adjusted to the gloom of the windowless tent, and only then meet the eyes of the head male for just the correct interval, and then never look directly at him aside from glances. He should lean his bow against the wall near the door, but his knife could remain in his belt, unless needed for eating.

He was taught correct table manners, much different than those he was used to. He was to eat all of the first serving, but hardly any of the second serving, as that was actually one of the women's meals offered to make certain he was satiated. She would only eat what he left her, usually the cook or an older auntie or widow. He should eat some of the choicer bits to show that he appreciated the food. It was all very complex, but John studied hard, and learned how to behave himself.

They still shared the same bed mat, and Zithrusa was slightly disappointed that John didn't try anything sexual with her, although she would have thought less of him if he had, and would have forcibly prevented him from succeeding. She knew however from certain unmistakable evidence that he did find her attractive, and so was comforted.

At the midday break to allow the goats to forage and to keep from overtaking the larger group, Zithrusa taught John the traditional games the men played to rank their status, wrestling, (a form of tug of war combined with sumo), stick and staff fighting (with padded ends), Kaber toss (A distance throw of a head sized wooden weight tied to a two foot rope), knife throwing at a human sized bundle of straw, sling, bolo, and other tests of skill.

Zithrusa was surprised to find that John was capable in most all of these activities, especially because she could see that he had never been exposed to most of them before. He was already skilled with throwing a knife, and he had a special technique for throwing the Kaber, a strange up and down pulse as he spun around, giving his distance and accuracy to the throw line results that would win against any of her family. One skill he lacked was the sling, since most skilled slingers had been at it since childhood. He shrugged it off as probably not that important, as long as he had other weapons.

John was relieved to finally be reacquiring his former strength. He studied his deportment classes intently, and relished the 'games' that Zithrusa taught him. He liked the 'wrestling', because it was much a mental game, of trying to fake out or psyche out your opponent. Causing them to fall outside the circle was only in part due to power, and a weaker but more clever player could often win by trickery. He had great core strength from slinging firewood onto and off of his pickup truck, and he had seen Olympic hammer toss on TV, so he knew about their up and down motion as they spun to get loft momentum. Zithrusa seemed pleased with the result of his unorthodox technique, and he was happy that he felt strong again.

So the next few weeks passed, and by now John was speaking almost like a local, and well versed in etiquette. It was lucky that this group didn't have many horses, only a handful which were reserved for the headmen and first sons, so he wouldn't have to demonstrate any of his nonexistent riding skills.

He was very tuned into the subtle guidance Zithrusa provided him, and could note her signals from her posture as she stood to the side, without really looking at her. This could be very helpful. Also helpful was John's quiet self-effacing personality, he wasn't likely to be ego driven to respond too strongly to any pushing or posturing. He would let Zithrusa be his guide as to which and how much to respond to for best political effect.

At length they had almost arrived at the camp, and Zithrusa deemed it best if they arrived at almost the same time as the main group, so they sped up and timed it so the others had just unloaded the burdens from the animals and were sitting down to rest and survey the location, planning where their tents would go and where the sporting ground would lie.

The camp's location was not much different than any other in this wild and empty land, but there was a small river at the bottom of a wide shallow valley, and the camp on the wide low bluff offered a long view at the surroundings, without being exposed to the wind. It would be difficult to sneak up upon this camp.

A few noticed their approach, and slowly they all became aware, and sat there as Zithrusa and John and the goats and donkey came into camp. John carried only the staff and knife at his belt, while Zithrusa carried the bow.

Not obviously, but as if by chance, several of the men were not far from their strung bows and arrow filled quivers. At the correct distance, too far to attack yet close enough to be heard, John shouted the appropriate greetings.

"Who comes into our camp, with our daughter and our goats?" Shouted the Headman.

"I am John, a lost wanderer until I was salvaged by your daughter. She has claim to me and my gratitude." Answered John. He knew that Zithrusa wasn't in fact the Headman's daughter, it was more a claim of ownership and kinship. Zithrusa's real father had been a guard in a passing caravan, and her mother an unmarried auntie. As such, she was counted as more of the Headman's daughter than any other young woman in camp who actually had a father, although the Headman would have called them "Our Daughter" as well.