by Inmon, Shawn
“She sent me to fetch you, feed you, and let you rest until morning. She wants a full report then, but she wants it to be coherent. Is there anything that is so urgent it will be different in the morning?”
Sekun-ak considered that, then said, “No.”
Alex had to admit that as badly as he wanted to tell Ganku-eh everything they had seen, a hot meal and a warm sleeping mattress sounded irresistible. They had spent the last three days sleeping in tree limbs, with Monda-ak patrolling below them.
They followed Balta-ak across the open field and up the switchbacks and ladders to an open room where several of the traditional low chairs were set around the fire. As soon as they sat down, friends appeared, bringing them food and drink.
Winten-ah is a take-care-of-yourself society, but on this night, both men and dog were catered to.
As soon as they were done eating, Niten-eh appeared with her bag of herbs and medicines and began tending to their many wounds. When she finished examining and bandaging the men, she examined Monda-ak’s shoulder wound. He put up with the pampering with the quiet dignity that he saved for moments like this.
No one peppered the men with questions. They had been gone for a little more than a month, but they felt slightly outside the tribe—almost as though they needed to be assimilated again.
When dinner was done, both men and Monda-ak collapsed gladly into a mattress and were asleep immediately.
For the first time since they had set out on their journey, they could let their guard down and truly rest.
WHEN ALEX WOKE UP, he saw that the VIP treatment he had received the night before had ended. There was no one waiting with hot water to wash him or feed him breakfast. He was relieved and glad. All he wanted, for the moment, was to get back to being a normal member of the Winten-ah, and to regain his strength.
A few minutes after he woke up, Sekun-ak found him. “Come. She will want to hear from you.”
Sekun-ak seemed slightly distant and formal now that they were back in the cliffside. Still, Alex remembered the sly sense of humor he had shown on their perilous journey and smiled inwardly.
There’s no one I would rather have at my back.
They climbed the ladders to the meeting room where Alex had first pledged to destroy his own technology three and a half years earlier. That had seemed such a foreign idea to him then, but after living with the Winten-ah, he had come to embrace it.
Only Ganku-eh and her husband, Banda-ak waited for them.
Ganku-eh signaled for them to sit. Before they had a chance to say anything, Banda-ak said, “Doken-ak?”
Alex’s throat tightened, but it was Sekun-ak who spoke.
“He is gone. We were unable to retrieve his body and give him a proper resting place. We failed him and the tribe.”
Banda-ak bowed his head slightly. “I know if there was any way for you to have done so, you would have.”
Ganku-eh leaned forward. “Start at the beginning. Tell us everything.”
Again, Sekun-ak took the lead. In the next half hour, he spoke more than he had the entire time they were gone. He briefly outlined their journey until they got to Stipa-ah, then asked Alex to relay what happened there.
“They used stama to destroy the Stipa-ah,” Alex said.
“What form did the stama take?”
Alex contemplated. How do you describe something so outside someone’s realm of experience?
“The Denta-ah have stama that can throw large, heavy objects great distances. They carried the stumps of trees to Stipa-ah, set them on fire, then used this stama, which I would call the long arm, to throw them into the buildings. When their village burned, the Stipa-ah warriors tried to run to the fight, but the Denta-ah have more stama that lets them throw small arrows great distances at great speed. They used that to kill them one by one as they stepped off the island.”
The cave was silent for long moments, with the only sound the soft crackling of the fire between them.
“Why do you think they did this?”
“It was strategic. I think it was their first chance to test their long arm and their...” Alex couldn’t think of a way to describe the crossbow properly. “...fast bow,” he finished. That was as good a description as any. “I think they wanted to see if it would work. Once it did, they used it as an opportunity to eliminate a neighbor that might revolt against them and take slaves so they can make more stama.”
“They enslaved the Stipa-ah?”
“Yes,” Sekun-ak said. “But not just Stipa-ah. We were enslaved ourselves and spoke to others from other tribes who had been there working ahead of us.”
Ganku-eh sat back in surprise. “You were enslaved?”
Sekun-ak’s head dropped, and Alex was surprised to see shame wash over him. Sekun-ak didn’t answer but put two fingers to his forehead in affirmation.
“But you escaped,” Ganku-eh said, giving Sekun-ak back his dignity.
“Yes. Alex and Monda-ak took care of the guards and we escaped. This should teach them not to attempt to enslave Winten-ah. We will never be broken.”
“How many people are there in Denta-ah?”
“They never let us too far into the city,” Alex answered. “I couldn’t get an accurate count. Watching food supplies and the activity on the edge of town, I would guess there are twenty of them for every Winten-ah. There could be more, though. They could have sent other raiding parties out to destroy other tribes and take more slaves.”
Ganku-eh frowned. “That would be the biggest tribe that has ever been on Kragdon-ah.”
Well, recently, anyway. You should have seen New York City or Tokyo back in the day.
“They outnumber us ten or twenty to one and they are using stama to create weapons to destroy villages and enslave survivors,” Ganku-eh summarized.
Both Sekun-ak and Alex touched two fingers to their foreheads.
She looked at Alex. “You have more experience with these situations. What do you advise we do?”
“Fight.”
Deciding to fight and being capable of bringing the fight to the enemy are vastly different ideas. Sending a few dozen Winten-ah warriors against a fortified city with heavier armaments would be suicide.
“I love peace,” Ganku-eh mused. “But there are times that to maintain peace, you must fight. These are not normal circumstances. This will require an extraordinary response.” She stared into the dancing flames for long moments. Finally, she said, “Manta-ak, I would like you to organize and lead this fight. You are the best person for it, even though you are not one of us.”
Alex felt overwhelmed. He had been a soldier for a decade, well trained to do his job. But that had been in the twenty-first century, using technology from that era. Drones, long distance strikes, smart bombs. And yet, he had always been a student of warfare. Not just Sun-Tzu, but all the masters of strategy and tactics.
I really am the best suited for this.
“I am willing to do so, and I will do my absolute best to win. But, I want something in return.”
Genka-ah did not appear surprised. She did not say ‘Name it,’ or anything else equally foolish. Instead she said, “What are your terms?”
“If I lead your—” Alex hesitated here. There was no word for army in Winten-ah or the universal language of Kragdon-ah. “—warriors, and if I survive the battle, when we return, I want a group of hunters to accompany me to the ocean. I want to return home. I need to see my daughter.”
Genka-ah bowed her head. “You have been a good friend to us, Manta-ak. You have been a mighty hunter and you helped Sekun-ak return to us. We have kept you here because of the ancient prophecies. It has been told that a stranger from away will help us in our hour of greatest need.”
“Maybe this is that time,” Alex mused.
“I agree to your terms. If you will lead our warriors, when you come back, I will have Sekun-ak escort you back to the ocean and your daughter, if that is what you wish.”
Alex knew they would have to fi
ght smarter, but that they would also need additional forces.
“How many fighters can we gather to take against Denta-ah?” Alex asked.
Ganku-eh and Banta-ak put their heads together and conferred quietly.
“If we pull everyone we can, we could likely gather four hundred fighters. But, if we did that, many tribes would be exposed to dangers. We would be nearly defenseless. If we send that many men and they fall, all our tribes will fall as well. But, it is worth it. Stama must be contained. If it spreads through our land, it will change everything.”
Alex considered. Four hundred was more than he had assumed, but still likely too few to take on Denta-ah.
“How long would it take? Could we gather them here, so I can train them? I have some ideas.”
“If we sent runners today, the first could arrive in a week. The others, it could be several months.”
“The longer we wait, the more heavily-armed Denta-ah will be. But, planning an attack with too few warriors is worse. We need to send our runners immediately.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Preparations
Winter had gotten off to a harsh start with the blizzard that Sekun-ak, Alex, and Monda-ak had waited out in the cave. It mellowed after that. There were still freezing temperatures and an occasional dusting of snow, but no more drifts as tall as a dire wolf.
When the runners were dispatched, Alex and Sekun-ak went to work on creating anything that might help them fight against the stama of the Denta-ah. It was a difficult line for Alex. He wanted to build weapons and defenses that would give them the best chance to win the upcoming war, but he had to avoid doing the same thing Douglas Winterborne was doing.
When they sat to discuss options the first time, Sekun-ak said, “If we use stama to fight stama, then we have lost before we start.”
Alex thought that was a noble sentiment, but he hated to give away any advantage when he knew his army was going to be outmanned and out-equipped.
Still, he and Sekun-ak went to work designing the prototype of the weapons and defenses Alex envisioned as his army marched into war.
Alex felt tremendous pressure because he knew it truly was his army. Genka-eh had been clear about that. Winten-ah did not have a group of men she could identify as warriors. There had been peace in their part of Kragdon-ah for many years. They had hunters, and people who could fight if called upon to defend their home, but nothing close to actual, trained fighters. Certainly no one who had experience in the strategies of war.
Except for Alex. And, to a lesser extent, Dan Hadaller. Dan had once been a trained soldier, but he had never taken to it as Alex had. He’d served the absolute minimum, been shipped to Vietnam, and had returned home.
In the almost four years Alex had been in Kragdon-ah, Dan had begun to show his age. He tended to stick to the easier paths up the cliffside and avoid the ladders to the top more and more. His white hair was thinner, and Alex had found he needed to repeat himself more often because he was hard of hearing.
In other words, not an ideal choice for leading an army.
Still, Alex intended to pick his brains for ideas.
The night after the runners left for points unknown, Dan and Alex sat alone in one of the meeting caves. It was the same place they had been sitting with Doken-ak when Yosta-ak had arrived to tell them of the coming storm. Now it was just the two of them and the comforting presence of Doken-ak was much missed.
“So you’re the man in charge of this circus-to-be, huh?” Dan asked.
“Doesn’t seem to be any way around it. I’d like you to be my right-hand man, if you’re up for it.”
Dan looked out over the open plain far below. Rain fell gently and dripped off the lip of the opening to the cave.
“I hate to leave you hangin’, but I don’t know that I’m up for it. I don’t know if I’m up for anything anymore. These Winten-ah seem to live forever, but those of us from the twentieth century have an expiration date.”
Alex leaned forward. “Genka-eh promised me that if I lead the army, she’ll take me back to the door. I want you to come with me. We can go through together. It’s still your house, as far as I’m concerned, so we can stay there together.”
“You’re a good man, Alex Manta-ak. I’d like that. I’d like to get back and see my dad before he dies if I can. But first, we’ve got to get you there and back alive. Let’s talk about what kind of weaponry that Doug dude has.”
“Pretty basic stuff so far. Crossbows, a trebuchet, I saw what looked like longbows being made too.”
Dan whistled. “Damn. Longbows? That changed the way wars were fought. There’s no stama in a long bow. Why don’t we make them, too?”
“I plan on trying. In theory, you need yew trees, and there’s no yew trees in Oregon.”
“How sure are you of that?”
“Are you saying I might find Yews around here?”
Dan Hadaller shrugged. “I might know where a stand of Pacific Yews is. We’ll have to be careful not to take too many of them, but there’s plenty to make longbows.”
“Can you show Sekun-ak where they grow?”
“Of course. He’s got weapons makers that can make them for you, but that’s not really your problem.”
“Oh, great. What’s my real problem.”
“The English used to say that to use a longbow effectively, a boy should start with it in his crib. It’s something you have to grow into. You’ll never be able to train decent longbow archers in a few months.”
Alex rocked back and forth, deep in thought. “In some circumstances, I wouldn’t need true longbow archers, though. I don’t need them to hit the eye of a gnat at two hundred paces. I just need them to be able to fire the damn things. These warriors are seven feet tall. That means our bows can be eight feet. Think of the drive and range from a bow like that. English bowmen could supposedly hit a target at two hundred yards. These archers don’t need to be accurate; they just need to be able to all point in one direction and fire at the same time. It will be a rain of arrows. They’ll have to hit something.”
“I’ll take Sekun-ak out tomorrow. I’m familiar enough with longbow design. I’ll help his weapon man design the first one, then he’ll be off and running. How many do you need?”
“I’d like to have two dozen longbowmen, if I could.”
“I’ll see what I can do. What I’m wondering, though, is why he’s sticking with such medieval weapons?”
“What are you thinking of? Swords? Tanks? Submachine guns?”
Dan smiled at the ludicrousness of the whole idea. “I guess. I don’t know what I was thinking. Just something more advanced than crossbows and catapults, I guess.”
Alex nodded. “I’m sure there are a lot of things on the drawing board. But, right now, he’s limited by a lack of iron. Without iron, you can’t make steel, and you’re stuck with technology a few hundred years before our time. That means he’s using the most up to date technology he can. But, if he can use that tech to get a leg up, he can build a city-state like he’s got started right now. He can expand from there. It’s gonna be tough for him, though.”
“Why?”
“Two reasons. One, our time used most of the easily available resources of the earth. If it was shallow, if it could be gotten without much effort, we took it. We fracted it, strip-mined it, and used it up. Now all the easy stuff is gone, so it’s gonna be tough for him to find anything.”
“What’s the second reason?”
“Because I’m gonna kill him.”
ON THE RARE OCCASIONS that a Winten-ah needed a shield, they typically carried a small, round one that was mostly useful for fending off brute force attacks. For the most part, those shields sat unused in a dusty corner of the armory. When you are hunting game, a shield does nothing but slow you down.
Alex and Sekun-ak designed a special shield that Alex had in mind for the attack on Denta-ah. It was tall enough to protect a Kragdon-ah warrior from the top of their head to their ankles. Conside
ring the size of the average Winten-ah warrior, that meant the shield had to be exceptionally long.
However, they were going to need to be hauled a great distance, so they needed to not be too heavy as well.
Alex’s first thought was a classic wooden shield with lots of stopping power. Then he thought of the hill he and Yosta-ak’s group had climbed their first day and tried to imagine hundreds of men doing it with a heavy shield on their back. That was not going to work.
That was when he thought of a composite shield. Building a lightweight frame, then attaching layers of different material. Alex sketched the shape he wanted for the frame in the sandbox, then left it to Noken-ak, his best weapon-maker, to try to recreate it.
Meanwhile, Alex took some dried straw and wove it together into a lightweight material. He found a course fabric that the Winten-ah used for making carry bags. The final layer would be leather. Alex had never actually built a composite shield before, but he had read about them, and that the whole was much stronger than each of the parts.
He and Noken-ak needed to create a model and use a bow and arrow from close range to see how it would stand up to the force of a crossbow.
The initial reason for the crossbow had been to make a weapon that could neutralize armor by piercing it. Alex decided to not waste any of his valuable time on armor, then, but to focus on the shield and stopping the crossbow bolts before they got to his warriors.
By the next day, Noken-ak had created a framework that Alex was happy with. The two of them attached the layers of woven straw, cloth, and thick leather, then hefted the shield.
“Not as light as I’d like it, but better than anything else would be.”
Noken-ak looked at Alex. Even among the Winten-ah, he was tall. But, where most of his tribemates were lean, he was thicker. There was no fat on him, but his shoulders, arms and upper legs were heavily muscled. His dark eyes smiled. He picked the shield up with one hand. “Anyone can carry this.”
“You’re right. Any of our warriors will be able to carry this. But, can we carry it up and down steep hills and across long plains, day after day?”