Origin Scroll

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “We taught them a lesson, didn’t we,” cheered Laman.

  “We managed to kill two of them before they have us for dinner,” remarked Kyle. “How many of them did you see from up in that tree?”

  “Oh, there are lots of them,” said Laman. “Can’t count that high. Over a hundred easy.”

  Alex laughed and grabbed a piece of smoked beef from the provisions as he headed towards the back of the cave. Jenneva came over and sat next to him. “How can you laugh at a time like this,” she queried.

  “I don’t know. I guess it just feels good to hear the two of them bickering again. I guess I took my mother’s death pretty badly. I can’t afford to indulge in feeling sorry for myself. These people need me to get them through this. I don’t mean that I’m anything special, they need all of us to work together and one of us can’t go off on their own little despair trip. I loved my parents dearly and I will miss them, but they would be the first to tell me to snap out of it and get my mind back on our problem. Concentrate, they would say. But what about you? I know your name is Jenneva and that you’re here with your uncle, but I don’t know why you’re here or where you are going.”

  “I am on a journey with Uncle Hasra,” Jenneva stated. “He had begun feeling poorly the last few months and he decided that he cannot care for me anymore. We journey to the home of my cousins where I will live from now on. I have never met them and they live far to the east. Yesterday, we stopped in this cave to rest. Uncle Hasra has not felt well enough to continue. I fear he is getting much worse with every passing day.”

  “What of your parents?” asked Alex.

  “I do not remember them,” answered Jenneva. “Uncle Hasra is the only family I have ever known.”

  Alex told her about working with his father, discovering the Yaki were coming and the hasty departure from the village. He had trouble describing his mother’s death and couldn’t even remember coming to the cave. He told her about the dream he was having when she screamed. It wasn’t really a dream, but a memory. The little girl had really fallen down the well and died. It had been the first death that Alex had witnessed and he had relived it many times in dreams.

  “Why did you bring that myric thing back to the cave with you?” asked Jenneva. “What if someone accidentally got stabbed with one of those quills? From what Kyle told me, it would be instant death!”

  “I don’t know,” said Alex. “The poison is so powerful it could probably kill a horse and shouldn’t be…but that’s it! It is powerful.”

  Alex jumped up, ran over to Laman and blurted, “Laman, can you attach the myric quills somehow to your arrows? The poison is so strong that it would kill the Yaki for sure. There must be several hundred quills on that one myric alone!”

  “Alex,” replied Laman, “the arrows that I made aren’t that smooth to begin with. If I had my tools, I could hollow out the tip and insert the quill, but just strapping the quill onto the arrow is not going to work. You’re a good bowman Alex. You’ve had arrows that are front heavy or warped. You’d be lucky to hit something with it and we’d just be throwing arrows and quills away.”

  “You’re right, Laman,” said Alex. “If anything, we need to conserve our arrows. If we ever run out of them, we’re finished. Cut down one of the quivers for me though. I’m going to pull the quills and store them in the quiver so nobody accidentally gets stabbed. We’ll find a way to use them eventually.”

  Alex wandered around the cave, checking each of the families to make sure everyone was all right. When he came to Larc’s family, he made a point of praising Larc for his quick thinking and courage against the Yaki. He also thanked the boy for his kindness and help when his mother died. Larc’s family should be proud of their son and they should know that Alex was proud of him too, Alex reasoned. When Alex reached Hasra, he sat down. Hasra was not looking well at all.

  “Are you in pain?” Alex asked. “We have some supply of herbs and medicines. Perhaps there is something that will help.”

  Hasra shook his head and Alex thanked him for his idea of creating lances. Alex rose and continued his travel around the cave. Finally, he returned to Jenneva and sat down. Laman had already delivered his shortened quiver and Alex began to pull the quills and store them safely away. It was dark outside and Alex didn’t expect the Yaki to attack at night. Still, they would keep a guard posted at the entrance at all times. Alex thought of Larc’s performance and made a mental note to involve more of the younger boys in the village duties. Then he nodded off to sleep.

  Alex woke with a start, his ear stinging. He saw two children quickly lie down and pretend they were sleeping. Rolling over he discovered a small seed next to his head and understood the stinging in his ear. He got up and walked over to the children and without a word took their reeds away from them. The children didn’t protest, but giggled themselves to sleep. Alex sat down next to Jenneva and shoved the long reeds into his quiver. For a while he just sat in the dim light, pondering their situation. Larc’s friend, Eddie, was on guard duty at the mouth of the cave. Everyone else was either sleeping or sitting quietly, deep in his or her own thoughts. Laman and Kyle had performed well while Alex was lost in mourning, but Larc’s performance made Alex realize that the villagers were not a herd of sheep to be shepherded, but were resources that needed to be used wisely. The three twelve- year- old boys had already been asked to share guard duty and had responded with eagerness. Perhaps in the morning he will have a village meeting and ask for suggestions as to how the other villagers think they can help.

  Alex got up and walked to the mouth of the cave. “How goes it, Eddie?” he asked.

  “It is very quiet out there,” replied Eddie. “Earlier, Larc had said he heard scrapping noises, but I haven’t heard anything. Do you think they will just go away?”

  “I don’t think so, Eddie. I think they are hungry, but not starving. If anything, they will get more desperate as time goes by. I imagine they have probably cleaned out most of the forest animals by now. We may be the only food left in the area for them.”

  “I guess you’re right, Alex. That’s probably why they came and got the body of the Yaki that Kyle shot. I thought they were going to bury it, but maybe they’re going to eat it,” pondered Eddie.

  “What did you say?” exclaimed Alex. “Did you say the Yaki came and took their dead away?”

  “Not the one that fell in the fire, but they took the one that Kyle shot,” answered Eddie. Two of the Yaki crept up and dragged the body back down the path.”

  Alex raced across the cave to where Hasra was resting. Hasra was sitting up with a pained look upon his face and seemed to be having trouble breathing. “Hasra,” Alex asked, “Are you feeling poorly?”

  “I feel as if some heavy weight has found a home on my chest,” wheezed Hasra. “I have felt this before and I am sure it will pass, but these are not your worries, warrior, they are mine. I know from the condition of your arrival that your worries are great. My Jenneva seems to be inclined to help ease your burden.”

  “I do not mean to take Jenneva away from you,” stammered Alex. “And I assure you I have no disrespectful intentions towards your niece. We only talk.”

  “You misunderstand me,” laughed Hasra. “Jenneva is my jewel, but she can do nothing for me now. I fear my time is limited and I will no longer be able to care for Jenneva. It gives me pleasure that my Jenneva would choose to comfort a man who willingly carries the burden for many. A man, and it seems a woman too, can learn many things by quietly observing. You think yourself yet a boy, but these villagers see you as a man, their leader. They see in you the strength of a warrior, the compassion of a father, and the wisdom of a thinker. I think they are correct, but I will add that you need to devote more energy to the thinking portion. Jenneva senses this, too, and believes that she can help you in some way. Let her try. Talk with her as a friend and perhaps you will see things in a different light.”

  “I will dwell upon your thoughts,” stated Alex, “but right now
I need your wisdom in another arena. I need to know if the Yaki eat their own kind or do they bury their dead?”

  “The Yaki most certainly will feast upon their own,” answered Hasra. “They normally will not kill each other, but if one dies in battle he will be among the devoured. There are no Yaki graves and no mourning from what I’ve heard. Why does this matter to you?”

  “I have thoughts of killing the Yaki with the poisoned quills of a myric,” Alex responded. “I have not thought of a way to get the quills into the beasts yet, but if they feed upon their dead then the poison may well spread to those not killed by us. It may allow us to survive.”

  Hasra smiled. “It seems I may have underestimated your devotion to the thinking arena. It is a good plan, but you still must find a way to get the poison to the Yaki. Talk to some of the others. Explain your plan and see what they think. A poor leader tries to solve all of the world’s problems by himself, while a great leader realizes that everyone has something to offer and finds a way to utilize their talents.”

  Alex rose and, thanking Hasra for his advice, decided to get some sleep before the sun rose. In the morning he would call a meeting of the villagers and get everyone involved.

  Alex awoke to Eddie’s shouts. The Yaki were gathering on the path. Alex ran to the mouth of the cave and peered out. He could hear the Yaki growling and scurrying about, but was only able to catch an occasional glimpse of the red furry animals. He was certain they would attack soon. Alex ordered more logs to be thrown on the fire and made sure that the villagers were all awakened.

  The Yaki came charging up the path in pairs. Soon there were several dozen prowling around the clearing before the cave. Some were rearing up before the fire, trying to see what treats awaited them inside the cave, while others were pawing at log ends at the bottom of the fire, hoping to collapse the barricade. Alex and Laman started firing arrows at the upright Yaki. Alex was a fairly good shot and pierced the neck of one. Laman’s arrow pierced the side of another. Others immediately replaced the two Yaki and Kyle and the younger boys joined in shooting arrows. The snaps of the bowstrings and the howls of Yaki pain filled the air, but the Yaki kept coming. The wooden arrows were only lethal when they struck a vital area and most of shots were not that well placed. It was difficult, even for a good shot like Alex, to land a killing blow when the target was only several feet away and moving quickly. The flames of the fire often obscured the view, making the shots even more difficult.

  After five minutes of battle, Alex noticed the younger boys tiring. Their shots were less frequent and less accurate. Soon Laman and Kyle would tire also. Alex knew he was probably in the best physical condition of the group due to his years of tree felling, but he would eventually tire as well. The Yaki, however, were limited only to the number of bodies they could squeeze into the clearing. As one of them tired, another would replace it. The villagers didn’t even know how many Yaki there were. Laman guessed there were hundreds from having seen them while in his tree perch, but the occupants of the cave were limited to seeing only those in the clearing or those coming up the path.

  “Larc, Eddie, Nolan,” shouted Alex, “Take a break. Conserve your energy. We are going to have to rotate firing so that we don’t all tire at once. Larc, you will replace Kyle when he tires. Eddie, you replace Laman. Nolan will replace me. Each shooter should step back and rest when he tires and not start shooting again until his replacement steps back. We also have to conserve our arrows, so try to shoot only when you have a good shot. It’s okay to fire a stray one to discourage an overly aggressive furball, but we can’t afford to do it too often.”

  Five minutes later, Alex stepped back and let Nolan take over. He felt good letting his muscles relax and unwind for a few moments. Alex surveyed the cave and saw fear on the villagers’ faces. Little children were crying and their mothers were trying to comfort them, often with tears in their own eyes. Jenneva was helping by going around to each family group and offering words of comfort and reassurance, often distracting the children with jokes or silly antics. Alex thought of this strange girl. She showed much courage in the face of certain death. She was traveling through this wild country with her sick uncle as if she had not a care in the world. She had tried to comfort Alex, a stranger to her, when others had been afraid to come with an arm’s reach of him. Now she was doing her best to cheer up the children, when most girls would be cowering in the corner nibbling their nails. And yet, Alex knew she was afraid. She was afraid of the Yaki and she was fearful of losing her uncle, yet she refused to be dominated by her fears. She controlled her fears and used her wits to channel her energy elsewhere. Alex thought of his talk with Hasra and vowed to spend some time talking with Jenneva. Perhaps he could discover how she managed to control her emotions so well.

  Alex was ready to get back into the fray, but Nolan had not yet stepped back. Alex could have told Nolan to stand down, but Nolan’s shooting was fine and he did not appear to be tiring yet. Even as the leader, if Alex pulled Nolan out of the line, he would be ruining the very feeling of participation that he was trying to build upon. The Yaki were not diminishing, but the supply of wooden arrows was. What would the Yaki do when the defenders stopped shooting arrows? They would still have to get over the fire barricade. As if on cue, one of the Yaki that was pawing the base of the barricade managed to collapse a small section of the barricade.

  Alex ran forward, grabbed a burning stick from the fire and hurled it at the Yaki. The Yaki’s fur burst into flames, much like dry pine needles thrown into a fire. The Yaki’s inhuman scream filled the cave. All of the boys started hurling flaming sticks at the Yaki. Several Yaki burst into flames and ran down the path. The rest of the Yaki backed away from the cave entrance, unsure of whether to continue attacking or flee. They eventually chose to saunter down the path and out of sight.

  “Yah!” shouted Laman. “Cave dwellers five. Crispy critters nothing.”

  “Count your arrows, Laman,” retorted Kyle. “The next time they come, sticks will be all that we have to throw at them.”

  Alex noted that Kyle was exaggerating, but their supply of arrows was getting dangerously low. A few minutes rest for everyone was in order, and then he would convene a village meeting. “Jenneva,” called Alex, “Will you take a turn as sentry for awhile?”

  “Sure, Alex,” she responded.

  After a few moments, Alex gathered everyone together for the meeting. Alex explained their situation, as he knew it, neither offering false hopes nor dwelling on their losses so far. He explained that he was not the chief of a tribe, but only one of the villagers. All of the villagers had to make the decisions and each of the villagers had to share the responsibilities and tasks. He told them about the poisoned quills and the problem of how to deliver them. He also pointed out the diminishing arrow supply and the likelihood that their food supply would run out. They had brought enough food for three days and today was their third day. The villagers had conserved their supplies and they could probably stretch it for two more days, but no more. They could, of course, eat the horses, but then they would have no wagon when the siege was finally lifted. Alex then opened the meeting for general discussion.

  Everyone started talking, but it was Tora, Laman’s mother who stood. “Alexander Tork,” she stated, “Perhaps being a woodsman, you are ignorant of the village ways, so I will educate you. The villagers have always had input in crucial decisions concerning the welfare of the village and always will.”

  The rest of the villagers started mumbling and fidgeting. Laman’s face was turning red and Kara’s fists were clenched. Jenneva looked shocked, but Hasra was smirking.

  “Our village,” Tora continued, “has always recognized one individual as village leader. That position used to reside with my husband, Gathar. The village leader is responsible for the safety of the village. He, of course, needs the input of all of the villagers, but he alone makes the decisions and each villager is obligated to obey. Quite frankly, I was shocked when you were cho
sen over Laman to lead this party. It was always assumed that Laman would follow in his father’s footsteps.”

  “Mother!” Laman interjected.

  “Quiet, son,” Tora admonished, “I have the floor and the right to speak my mind. I could not fathom you, Alex, as a woodsman knowing anything about leading the village. I assumed the situation was only temporary, so I bit my tongue and remained silent. I will remain silent no longer. You led us up this mountain at a back-breaking pace. You led us to this dank cave where we are holed up with a thousand Yaki outside the entrance. Many of us objected, but your bullheadedness would not compromise. No, you continue to have your way with us. The point of all this is that you have been the village leader for three days and shown us your style of leadership. Now you have called a village meeting. You probably don’t realize the significance of your act, but when a village meeting is called, the villagers have a right to elect their leader. We have not elected you our leader. We elected Gathar and he chose you. That is not the way of our village.”

  The murmur from the villagers was getting quite loud now. Many felt that Tora was unfairly criticizing Alex for the situation that they were in. Kara shouted, “What is your point, Tora? Are you making a nomination or just exercising your vocal chords?”

  Kara’s statement brought several chuckles. Alex reflected that it was good to hear some levity from the villagers even if it was at his expense.

  Tora continued, “Yes, Kara I am making a nomination and I would expect my time on the floor to be respected and not interrupted. As most of you know, my right to make a nomination for village leader must be acknowledged by the current leader, even though he was not legally elected. Alexander Tork, do you recognize my right as a villager to make my nomination?”

  Alex cleared his throat. “Tora, I have always respected Gathar, your husband, but I feel that there is some misunderstanding here. Gathar did not make me the village leader. He merely asked me to lead the villagers to safety and I have tried to do my best. I know that I pushed very hard, but in my opinion I did what was required to get the job done. I know that I have failed you in some respects, like allowing one of our party to come to harm, but I alone bear the guilt and pain of that mistake. As for my condition after my mother’s death, I can only ask your forgiveness. I have no ambition to be the village leader and I would have no hesitation in following Laman’s orders. You ask my permission to make a nomination for village leader; you have it, not as your village leader, but as one of you, a villager.”