The Lord of the Plains

by Sarah Chapman

Chapter 59

  If Riley thought she knew the extent and type of violence that saturated gemeng society she was wrong. Her ignorance was exposed by a mixture of simply spending more time among them and the fact that she was no longer an object of derision, but now a part of their society.

  Once again Riley found herself tearing apart a pair of gemengs that had decided the other needed to die. In the background she was vaguely aware of laughter from another group of gemengs. She heard: ‘you make the pigs smell nice, Dulag!’ and a roar of laughter.

  ‘Why are you fighting?!’ Riley demanded of the two gemengs she was currently focussing on.

  ‘He gave me a look.’ The one with more fangs growled.

  Riley turned to the other.

  He bared his teeth and growled in response.

  Riley put on her stern face and looked down at both of them (even though both were taller and bigger than her). She was getting heartily sick of this. This was the fourth fight today, and she hadn’t even had lunch yet!

  She shoved the two gemengs away. ‘Listen up!’ She demanded. Everyone turned their attention to her. It did not give her any pleasure. ‘There is to be no more fighting. If you want to fight, you’ll have to ask me for permission.’

  The silence was stunned.

  ‘Do you understand?!’ she demanded. ‘No more fighting! I’m sick of it. Since you clearly can’t be trusted to decide when to kill each other, you’ll have to ask me first. Are we clear?!’

  There was mumbled, growly, surrender. Gemeng leaders didn’t need to add threats when they gave an order.

  The threat was implicit.

  Riley turned to leave. She had not gone more than three steps when another astonishing sight greeted her.

  A large, female gemeng was dragging a smaller male along the ground by the leg.

  Fighting, Riley was used to. This?

  What was this?

  ‘What are you doing?’ Riley demanded.

  The woman stopped. She was large and muscular. Her teeth were relatively human, but her huge hands had claws erupting from them. Her animal skins were adorned with trophies; parts of gemengs she had killed.

  ‘You finished.’

  ‘Yes.’ Riley said, bewildered. ‘I finished. What are you doing?’

  ‘You finish, I take him to tent.’

  ‘Why are you taking him to your tent? Is he alive?’

  The woman looked at her as if she was stupid. ‘Of course. How he make children if he dead?’

  Riley looked at her and then down at the limp man. ‘But…’

  The problems with this scene were too numerous and too screamingly obvious to point out.

  ‘But he’s unconscious.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why is he unconscious?’

  The woman’s frown got even darker. ‘Because I hit him.’

  ‘But why did you hit him?’ Riley felt like she was talking to a rock wall. Coincidentally, the woman did bear a striking resemblance…

  ‘He not want to make children.’

  ‘He didn’t want to make children.’ Riley repeated.

  The woman glared at her. ‘So I hit him, take him to tent, make children.’

  ‘Ok.’ Riley sighed. Closed her eyes. ‘Come with me.’ She felt a sudden urge to dump this in Aerlid’s lap. And if not that, at least to share.

  She took a few steps before realizing the woman was still dragging the man by the leg, his head bumping along the ground.

  ‘Here, why don’t I carry him?’

  ‘Mine!’ the woman growled, and stepped in front. ‘He make my children! You get your own mate!’

  ‘I don’t want-!’ Riley exploded before snapping her mouth shut. She spun on her heel, turning her back on the woman. ‘You there!’ She pointed at the closest gemeng. ‘Go get Aerlid for me.’

  The day ended with another proclamation.

  There was to be no child making without asking her permission first.

  Riley rather thought knocking a person out to drag them to your tent counted under the no fighting rule.

  However, the gemengs apparently didn’t consider that fighting.

  That was courtship.

  While Riley gained little pleasure from her new tribe, the environment of the Plains was a different matter. The more time she spent in the Plains the more it began to take shape, gain depth and variety. The plains were not a homogenous sea of grass as had first appeared. Riley now saw the long grass that could grow up to three meters high, and the shorter grasses that added layers and colour to this background. She could tell them apart by length, by colour, by the type of seeds they had. She learnt to avoid the furry, green grass that stung when you touched it. And there were the flowers that added spots of colour to the yellows and greens of the grass. Some of the flowers were poisonous, some could be used for their medicinal properties. Some were just pretty to look at.

  In some places the grass was short, no higher than her ankles. It was always a pleasure to escape from the all-encompassing jungle of the long grass into these meadows. They were formed by large beasts grazing, or by fire.

  Among the grasses animal life was abundant. There were small, rat like creatures that ran along the ground and into burrows. Butterflies darted here and there and birds, called from hidden nests. There were foxes and wolves. And in the great big sky above, swift, sleek birds of prey. The plains were never completely silent. There was the susurrus of the grass, the chirping of birds, the buzzing of insects. And at night, the howls of wolves. And there were the large beasts, the great lumbering creatures that grazed throughout the plains. In the shoulder they were as tall as Riley. They had large, sharp horns that curved forward and could tear an unlucky gemeng apart. Strong legs, heavy hooves, swishing tails. And enough meat to last the tribe a week or more.

  They were what the warriors hunted.

  Riley had not hunted one yet.

  What had once seemed an ocean of grass gained colour for her. It became an escape from the tribe. A place to explore. There were sadly, very few trees.

  But it was enough.

  When Riley returned from her daily trip to the grasslands, laden down with roots and bulbs, and an unlucky rabbit, she found an unfortunate scene.

  It was not so much a scene, really, but the aftermath of a scene.

  Riley stalked over to a bruised and bloody gemeng male. ‘Who did this?’ she demanded.

  ‘I did.’ Dulag announced. He was standing over the male, as if guarding his prize. ‘I’ll kill him now.’

  ‘No!’ she said curtly. ‘I said no fighting without my permission. You disobeyed me.’ She did not have to work at it to look angry. She glared at Dulag.

  ‘I didn’t kill him.’ he said in surprise. ‘You said no killing. I didn’t kill. I wait. I ask, now I kill.’

  Riley was momentarily taken aback. How had they come to that conclusion? ‘Well you misunderstood.’ she said coldly, recovering herself. ‘There is to be no fighting. And I do not give you permission to kill him.’

  ‘He said I smell worse than a pig.’ Dulag growled. His body tensed, ready for a fight. And as she watched he slapped the gemeng around the head.

  ‘Control yourself. That makes it twice you’ve disobeyed me. And he says that every day.’

  ‘So?’

  Riley felt a chill inside her. There were no rules for these creatures. She had thought Dulag and the man he had just mauled were friends of a sort, believed his jokes had been allowed.

  Had he believed that too?

  The only way I can control them and not be as bad as they are is if I am predictable with my violence. She would give them rules. Clear, firm rules. And if they were followed, they would be safe.

  And that would be better than this.

  ‘Perhaps you should bathe more often. As this man won’t be able to provide for himself because of you, you will have to do it for him until he is recovered.’

  The slumped and bleeding gemeng looked stunned.

  Dulag looked
furious. ‘What?’ he grunted. ‘He insulted me!’

  Riley gave him another look borrowed from Aerlid until he subsided. ‘Until he is well enough to hunt for himself, you will share half of your food with him.’

  The moments stretched out. And finally, Dulag acquiesced.

  And Riley repeated her announcement again.

  She hoped this time it would be more successful.