Chapter 11

Ototl, the remaining Elder, agreed to oversee the selection of 8 more Elders from the River People. Atlala, his wife Marlo, and two young men of the Elder's Village would carry the news of the recent events to all of the River People. Atlala was happy to go, he was always happiest when traveling and Marlo was not yet pregnant.

Travel to Atatl's village was slowed by Rod's injury. His ankle could take most of his weight but he had to walk slowly and could walk for only half a day. He and his wives were joined by several of the Southern People who had remained in the Elder's village.

Otatl and his two wives departed the Elder's village and traveled towards the Chief Notl's village. They were joined by three young River People men, really boys, who were looking for adventure and wives. Otatl would see that the story of the incidents at the Elder's village was told to the Lake Peoples. No doubt it would be embellished but that was the fate of all stories.

Before they left, all the travelers were asked to teach the basics of sanitation and treatment of diarrheic dehydration. They were told to make clear that these were Rod's ideas. That the ideas had been given to Rod by God and that God would give Rob more ideas and instructions. Rod would release more information when God told him to. Who was it that talked about the big lie?

Rod finally finished the agonizing trip to Travlo's home village long before she was due to have his child. Trelo would also give birth there. Kalo was not yet pregnant. If Rod could find a way to put off her first pregnancy for four or five years he would. Menarche doesn't mean a woman is fully grown. Kalo's first pregnancy would most likely end in a miscarriage, a still birth, or something worse, but there wasn't anything he could do. The pressure three women could put on him was nothing short of amazing. I'm pussy whipped, I'll do anything they want.

Late winter was calm in Atatl's village, life went on much as it had when Rod had lived there before but now his opinion was much sought after. Rod was clearly shown more respect; he was treated as if he were an Elder. Atatl didn't make decisions without first hearing Rods thoughts on the matter. Ateel, the village advisor, was not sure what to make of this, nor could he understand the reasons for Laval's presence at many meetings. But Ateel was a steady man, not the type to jump to conclusions without sufficient evidence. Ateel had been Atatl's friend for his entire life, he trusted Atatl and he trusted Laval. Ateel thought that Rod was honorable, so he wasn't overly worried, he'd find out what was going on when he found out.

On a cold winter day, a day that the air was dry and the snow squeaked with each step, three men arrived in the village. One man was older than the other two but none were young men. They talked to a villager on the edge of the town and walked towards Atatl's tent.

Rod watched from in front of his tent where Kalo was writing on a piece of parchment with a feather pen. Writing was best done by young nimble fingers. Parchment had been easy to make, as had the pen, but ink had been a bitch. The solution was a mixture of crushed charcoal, the gritty soap they could make from ashes, and water. It took forever to dry and was not waterproof but at least it stuck to the parchment.

Rod would describe technology, everything he could think of: crop rotation, fertilizer, different types of bows, plows, saddles, vague ideas of how to make metals, small group tactics, guns, boats, inbreeding for traits, anything, everything. If he died tomorrow it would be up to his wives to make these ideas known to the People, but perhaps not all at once. A simple bow would do for now, maybe if they were invaded they would need a long-bow, or a re-curved bow, or even a compound-bow. Rod talked and drew pictures in the sand while Travlo and Trelo asked questions. When the two women were satisfied that they understood, they told Kalo what to write and what to draw.

Rod watched Atatl and Ateel meet with the three strangers. They walked towards Rod's tent. Atatl's face showed no sign of worry or alarm but he did carry his spear with him. As they drew close, Rod and the women stood.

"I am here," the old man said. "My name is Zatatl."

"Welcome to my fire," Rod replied. "I am Williams, may I offer you food or tea?"

"Warm tea would be welcomed on this cold day," Zatatl answered. Rod glanced at Trelo and she began to prepare tea, or what passed for tea in this culture.

"Is that what is called reading and writing?" Zatatl asked pointing to Kalo's parchment.

Kalo looked at Rod and when he nodded his head she slid the parchment to Zatatl. "Be careful not to touch the ink, Elder. It is still wet and you'll ruin the parchment if you smear the ink."

"What does it say?"

"It says that you shouldn't plant the same crop on the same land every year," Rod said.

"And it isn't magic?" Zatatl asked.

"No, it isn't," Rod assured him. "Anyone can learn to read and write. Kalo just wrote the words and I just read them."

"Have you written what plans you have for the Southern People's Elders?"

"Yes," Rod said. "Kalo wrote that I would ask the chiefs to choose three more Elders. Then the Council of Elders should pick three of their Elders to join with three Lake Elders and three River Elders to have a Grand Council of Elders that mediates arguments between any of the Peoples."

"Will you come to the Council and talk with us about this Grand Council and your plan to unite the three Peoples?" Zatatl asked.

"I will," Rod said. "But I can't leave here until my wives give birth to my children."

"Then I will stay here a hand of days before I go back, if that is alright with Atatl," Zatatl said. "When you come to our village you will be our guest and I promise you our protection, but since your experiences with Elders has not always been ... positive, you may bring 5 hands of your own warriors if you choose to."

"That's a reassuring offer," Rod replied. "I may just take you up on it. I suspect that most Elders are the wisest men available, but like all men of power, they sometimes confuse what's good for them for what's good for the People."

"And you never have this problem?"

"Sure, I'm just like other men," Rod said. "But it's not a big problem when my wives keep telling me that I'm stupid."

Zatatl laughed. "Good wives are important," he said.

"Yes they are," Rod replied. "They keep us aware of what we really are, not what others think we are. Please feel free to share our fire while you are here."

"Thank you for your offer," Zatatl said.

Zatatl and his two companions stayed in Atatl's village for five days. Much of their time was spent with Rod or Atatl, but they also talked to the common people of the village. If Zatatl had a nefarious plan, he was an extremely good actor. The old man was charismatic and smart, he wasn't a toady. If he disagreed with Rod, he told him so in no uncertain terms. All-in-all he acted as if he were an honest man and Rod found himself saying more than he really should.

"How much power will rest with the Councils of Elders and how much with the Grand Council of Elders?" Zatatl asked as he pulled a fur tighter around him. It was a cold afternoon, Zatatl would leave the next morning. Only Zatatl, Atatl, and Rod sat around Atatl's fire.

"That's a very hard question," Rod allowed. "We have a saying in my land, 'We will cross that bridge when we come to it' and the saying is appropriate. The founders of my country had a very hard time with the question. Some were Federalists, they would have wanted the Councils of Elders to have most of the power. Others were Centralists, they would have wanted the Grand Council to have most of the power."

"What was finally decided?"

"They compromised again and again and again over the centuries," Rod laughed and then became serious. "Once they went to war with each other, brother against brother, son against father, and friend against friend. It was a brutal dehumanizing war. Two lessons were learned - God I hope they were - a human cannot own another human, and even with our differences we are all one people."

"Did you fight in that war?" Atatl asked.

"No, it was a 100 years before the war I fought in."

"But stories are still told?" Zatatl asked.

"Yes, I guess you could say stories are told, but remember that we had reading and writing. Those who were in the war wrote about it. Records were kept. The Elders were very careful to keep records of their own words. They love to hear themselves talk. Millions of words were written and we even had pictures. How do I describe pictures? Make a circle with your hands and look through it. Now imagine the view through your hands on a rock. The image does not change, there is no movement, but every time you look at the rock, you see that exact view of the village. That is a picture."

"Do you still claim that this isn't magic?" Atatl scoffed.

"Well I don't know how to do it," Rod said with resignation, "but the people who do it say that it is not magic. Is tanning a hide magic? Or making a spear point? I can't do either of those."

"Let me ask you one last question about your God's plans," Zatatl said.

"Go ahead," Rod said cautiously.

"I have noticed a strength of a Council that is also a weakness," Zatatl said. "A council almost never does anything. Most of the time, that's been good for us, because no changes were needed. Now you bring change. Wonderful changes to help the Southern People and the other People but changes none the less. Change is dangerous, especially if the rulers can't change with the people. I don't see you as the kind of man who would teach a better way of life and then sit still if the Councils did nothing. Are you that kind of man?" Zatatl's looked at Rod, seeking the answer.

Rod met his gaze and calmly answered, "God wouldn't let me."

oOo

Keep it to yourself. Admit it to no one. Smile and fake it. All they do is eat, pee, shit, and vomit. Oh yeah, and they cry, a lot. What is the big deal about babies? Rod thought he got it just for a second when his oldest daughter smiled at him, but she hadn't smiled, she'd grimaced. Then she'd taken a dump, a large smelly dump. Now was a good time for a trip to see the Elders. He couldn't let his wives find out that babies did nothing for him. Did he have something wrong with his 'father gene' so that it didn't switch on when it was supposed to? Or was it pure envy? Those tits used to be mine, kid. Whatever the reason, it wouldn't hurt to get some sleep.

Neither Rod nor his wives had to work for their food or furs. In fact they had been discouraged from hunting and from scavenging. Food appeared in front of Rod's tent every morning as did children and adults. They learned from each other, Rod and his wives writing down knowledge that the people had. The people listening as Rod told things that he could remember, all the while his wives wrote.

Travlo insisted that Kalo go with Rod. Atatl and Alaval would also make the trip along with Laval. Chief Dartl of the River People would meet them along the way. In all, 20 people, a mixture of Southern and River People would travel to the Southern Elder's village. Rod hoped the meeting would be better than the last such meeting. Five people less than allowed showed trust but not weakness.

Spring was a gorgeous season. Light rain every few days and light green leaves on the trees. Tasty mushrooms, tender young deer, and greens that weren't bitter. Berries everywhere and the knowledge of which could be eaten. Rod and Kalo slept in his small tent, room enough for the two of them. She was worried that she was barren. Rod reminded her that she was very young. "Wait five years and then you can start to worry," he said. "For now we'll practice."

Travel to the Elder's village was slow. Rod's ankle had healed almost completely although it warned the coming of bad weather. He had always discounted anecdotes of old injuries foretelling bad weather but now he was convinced. Still he could travel as fast as the others. What slowed them wasn't his injury, it was the fact that every village they came to wanted to party.

Last summer and fall had been good seasons and the winter had been unusually mild. This spring was perfect. Food was plentiful and since the food would spoil otherwise, why not pig-out now? So the villages used Rod and the travelers as an excuse for gluttony. And though a fat man was diffidently a show of great status in this culture, Rod skipped meals on the trail to make-up for the excesses in the villages. Kalo became what could politely be called thick. She must certainly had a trunk which was a rare sight. Rod gained enough status from her. No girl with the skinny legs for him.

Another reason for their slow pace was the tendency to attract an army. One day that would be very useful indeed but for now it was a pain in the ass. Mostly young men, but even some older men, would follow the travelers from one village to another. Rod had to find a polite way of saying thanks-but-no-thanks. Twenty people sounded just about right, 200 was certainly overkill. Who knew what the Elders would think, and how the Hell the village could feed them?

Some of the travelers asked permission to stay in this village or that village. A young woman would catch a young man's eye and suddenly a trip to the Elder's village didn't seem so important. Other volunteers were easy to find, including Otatl and his wives Elalo and Teplo of the Lake People. They had set out from their home village two months before Rod had left Atatl's village. Otatl had been treated as if he had overthrown the evil Elders single handedly and to hear him tell the story, he had. But it was a good story and what it lacked in truth it made up for in excitement. A dime novel come to life.

As the travelers neared the Elders village, they had grown to more than 75 people. Far too many to take into the village. Surely, it would be seen as an insult. Rod, Otatl, Atatl, and Dartl held a council to decide who would go into the village and who would stay at a camp site 15 klicks from the village. All agreed on 14 people rather quickly, then Rod suggested they draw lots for the remaining 6 spots.

For now, only Atatl, Dartl, Laval, and Alaval wore military insignia; Lava and Alaval wore stylized Marine Corps E4 patches, Atatl and Dartl wore stylized Marine Corps E6 patches. Patches were conspicuously absent on Rod and Otatl.

Just as the 4 hands of people started for the village, Atlala appeared out of the morning mist. "I am here," he said proudly.

"You're late," Otatl said. "We are leaving for the Elder's village now."

"Then I'm just in time. Anyway, I had a busy winter. I told many villages about what Rod has done, I have a new wife, and both my wives are pregnant."

"I'm glad you practiced talking and fornicating, but did you practice fighting?" Rod asked.

"Some. Will we need to fight?"

"Pray that we don't but be ready," Rod said. "We met Elder Zatatl this winter, he is unlike the River People's Elders were. He will be reasonable even if he doesn't agree with us. At worst he will try to slow but not stop change."

"Then we've stood here long enough," Atlala said. "I'd like to meet him."

"Fuck," Rod snorted. "Let's go."

At the edge of the village, Rod signaled all to stop. "Otatl, Atatl, Dartl, walk with me," he said. The four of them walked towards Haltatl's tent. Haltatl was the Chief of the village and he was as described by Elder Zatatl. He was past his prime but still an obviously strong man, short and squat but heavy with muscles. His once-dark hair was now gray, half white and half black. Haltatl and another man stood by the fire as Rod and his lieutenants approached.