The Footsteps of Cain

by Derek Kohlhagen

  He held on to her last words with all his strength.

  “By the tree....”

  Her speech ceased, and then her breathing followed suit. The light of her eyes, the light that warmed and fed Ejelano as the sun nourished the forest, winked out. He knew he would be cold and hungry without it, until his end.

  Ejelano was left there, alone, rocking her in the dirt by the stone. He pressed his face into her hair and wept bitterly, lost in an anguish that only a select, tortured few would ever know.

  * * *

  Chapter 29 – Olhando

  A group of wide-eyed women reached the central clearing where Banoro, Elhadra, Olhando, Dwelo, and the rest of the hunters were still celebrating the glorious hunt of the morning, and they told a tale of unease and dark tidings. As the sinister account was told of the bellowing coming from Ejelano’s home, hushed tones and worried glances were cast behind them.

  “Olhando,” Banoro said, his brow furrowed, “there is a great disharmony on the breeze. Take the others and find the source. Your legs are younger than mine; I will meet you there. With haste, now...go!”

  The hunters, led by Olhando, were light as ghosts as they ran off.

  As Ejelano’s home came into view, there was a heavy silence in the air that made Olhando’s skin prickle. He burst through the door with the others on his heels, and reeled at the grisly scene before him.

  “Trees and bark, Ejelano!” Olhando exclaimed. His head swiveled about to take in the bloodbath inside the small home. “What has happened here?! What have you done?!”

  Ejelano raised his head from Lena’s long hair, and looked up at Olhando blearily. The man looked to be under the influence of some bewitchment; he was pale...bleeding from a wound in his side that he didn’t appear to notice. His eyes were haunted and bloodshot.

  “I have murdered both my life-brother and my beloved. May the forest find peace for them in its boughs.” His voice cracked under the force of his grief.

  Olhando was shocked by the candid nature of Ejelano’s confession.

  “I....” he started.

  He blinked, looking at his fellow hunters, who returned his gaze, aghast. As far as he could remember, there had never been a killing among the members of the village. Yes, there had been war with other tribes, and the people, especially the warriors, were not strangers to death. But, to have it here, inside the borders, and committed by a fellow tribesman against his own...it was unthinkable! He was dumbstruck, completely at a loss.

  Olhando was relieved, therefore, when Banoro swept aside the leather flap, ducked his head, and entered the house. The huge man grimly surveyed the interior, his wide eyes taking in Shaleer’s motionless body lying on the floor by the bed, then sweeping over to Lena’s bloodied face. Although his stoic visage didn’t show it, he couldn’t completely banish the tremble from his voice. “Ejelano, if you have anything to say to explain this, you had best raise your voice. However, know that the next words you speak will be judged harshly. Be wary of the ones you choose.”

  Ejelano again raised his head. His gaze went first to Banoro, then Olhando, then the other men. Astoundingly, he then closed his eyes and dropped his head back into Lena’s hair, without even a single word.

  “He...has confessed, Banoro,” Olhando told the holder of the Cycle in a low voice. “He claims their deaths as his own doing. What do we do?”

  Banoro’s eyes closed, and he bowed his head.

  “How could this have happened?” he whispered. He leveled his eyes at the destroyed man before him. “Ejelano, you are respected and loved. How could you, you, have done something so seemingly depraved? I am not blind; there is more to this horror than you are telling us. Please, say something that will convince me not to enforce the old laws. We have not had to use them for generations, but that does not mean that you are not subject to their judgment. You must understand that I will be forced to carry them out if you don’t defend yourself. Killing your own...it’s the very worst, the blackest of deeds. Now is the time, boy! Speak!”

  The urgency was apparent in Banoro’s voice as he pleaded with his chosen one to save himself.

  With mention of the old laws, Olhando felt a spark of guarded excitement in his gut. He knew what they said. He also knew that he was a close second in the esteem of the elders, and that the only man standing between himself and the next Cycle looked to have just committed an unthinkable crime. He was not altogether proud of his feelings, but knew also there would be no penalty for holding them inside his head. He looked on with great interest as the drama before him unfolded.

  Perhaps my day in the sun isn’t lost, after all....

  * * *

  Chapter 30 – Ejelano

  Ejelano wanted death. He’d promised Lena that he would not take his own life, but he still desired to enter that blessed oblivion, that blanket of beautiful nothingness. Anything would be preferable to the nightmare he’d entered. But, he would never betray his love, not even across the mortal veil.

  And, yet....

  When he had confessed to the killings, he had been speaking from the edge of the encroaching madness. He hadn’t really understood what he was saying. But, when Banoro spoke of the old laws, a glimmer of lucidity shined down on his mind, and he was given a phantom of hope. He had told the truth. His life-brother and his love were slain by his hand, no matter the circumstances that led to their deaths. It seemed he could have what he wanted, the sweet death that he wanted, after all.

  All he had to do...was tell the truth. All he had to do was damn himself.

  So, with Banoro demanding explanation, demanding justification for his actions, he suddenly knew what to say. He once again looked upon his mentor’s face, and spoke the words that would slam shut the door to his salvation.

  “Olhando has told you no lies,” he said. “It was I who pierced Shaleer’s skin, with the very knife I bore on the hunt. It was I who threw my love against the rock,” at this, his voice broke, “removing her warmth from this life. I, and I alone. You must have justice for this evil; pursue it however you see fit.”

  Olhando shifted. Although Ejelano knew the hunter was trying to hide it, he could see the growing flames of ambition burning in Olhando’s eyes.

  Banoro walked over and knelt beside him, bending over Lena’s body to bring his face close. He rested a meaty, heavy hand on Ejelano’s shoulder. Ejelano could feel Banoro’s inner struggle, his reluctance to condemn him.

  “I’ll give you one more chance to save yourself, Ejelano,” Banoro said, boring into him with his eyes. “You understand what will happen should you surrender to your fate in this way. I won’t be able to save you. There must be something you can tell me. I beg you to reconsider. Please.”

  “I have said my peace,” said Ejelano. “My words are finished.”

  Banoro’s voice was soaked in sorrow. “Then...may the forest guide your spirit.” He stood. “I have no recourse...but to evoke the power of the old laws, and send you before the elders for final judgment.” He turned to his hunters. “Take him.”

  Ejelano gently laid Lena’s body against the earth. He bent close to her, and his words were not heard by any but himself.

  “I will soon be with you again, my love. Wait for me...by the tree.”

  Hands seized his arms and stood him up, dragging him around her body, and out the door into the midday sun. He craned his neck around, and was able to get one more glimpse of Lena’s still form before he was pulled out of view. Turning his head forward, he focused on the ordeal ahead.

  He was dragged back down to the clearing, where his day had begun with such promise and joy. He was held fast by the arms of his brothers...there was no escape, even if he’d desired it. By now the entire village was gathered, exchanging worried looks and no doubt wondering what had transpired. Ejelano saw Dwelo, under the arm of Elhadra. He saw the boy’s confusion, the concern for him, knew that what he was about to witness would scald the boy deeply, the boy who was like a son to him.

&nbs
p; Banoro, his face serious as death, positioned himself in the middle of the clearing, in front of Ejelano. His voice boomed powerfully out of his thick chest; there was no doubt that all could hear him.

  “No youngling may be present for this. I would ask that they be ushered back to their homes.”

  There was a shuffle, while the mothers, confused with mouths partly agape, took their younglings by the hand and led them off, so they would be spared from what was to come. Dwelo, having just passed the rite of the hunt, had earned the right to stay. The look on his face did not imply that he actually wanted to.

  Banoro once again let his voice ring out.

  “Brothers and sisters! We have before us the most difficult day that our generation has ever had to face. There has been a terrible thing done today, by a man whom we have all come to love and admire. Some, as a brother. Some, as a father.” Banoro glanced at Dwelo, still sheltered by Elhadra’s arm.

  Then he turned and gazed at Ejelano, who could see the tears collecting in the patriarch’s eyes.

  “Some, as a son. The old laws, however, do not discriminate based on love, but rather on deed. Any and all are subject to their decree, and it is through this that we are all protected from ourselves. Remember this as you witness what must be done.”

  Banoro then turned to a larger structure on the edge of the clearing. It was done much in the same style and constructed of the same materials as the rest of the homes, but it was at least three times as large. A steady stream of smoke rose from a hole in the roof, rising above the trees and dissipating into the blue sky above.

  “It is now that we call the elders forth for their judgment!”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Banoro drew in a breath, and began to chant. He first breathed out, twice, through his closed teeth, then opened his mouth and did the same through his open throat. The sound came out as an eerie, percussive vocalization.

  “Hee hee, haa haa, hee hee, haa haa....”

  First it was just his single voice, throbbing through the air. Then, one by one, the remaining men and the women joined him, until the sound buffeted Ejelano’s ears and vibrated his lungs. The rite to call the elders never ceased to raise goosebumps on his skin.

  “Hee hee, haa haa, HEE HEE, HAA HAA....”

  This went on for thirty beats of Ejelano’s heart, which was drumming insistently against the inside of his rib-cage.

  “HEE HEE, HAA HAA, HEE HEE, HAA HAA....”

  Then, Banoro thrust both his arms into the air, and the chant fell silent.

  “We call forth the elders! We call them forth to speak the will of the forest!”

  All eyes went to the door of the huge house, expectantly.

  * * *

  Chapter 31 – Ejelano

  Ejelano had only seen the elders a few hand-counts or so; only at times when the village was in great need of their counsel. Deciding whether to make war, selecting for the next Cycle of leadership...these were the greatest of such needs. The three ancient men who dwelled in that large structure off of the clearing were the most cherished of treasures within the borders of the village, and it was only through a long, worthy life that any man would be considered to join them. Their exact ages were not spoken of; it was enough to know that they had seen more and done more than any other in the village, and had learned enough to be the greatest guiding force in the lives of the people.

  They emerged from the open door, their wizened, wrinkled faces bowed toward the ground, their steps slow, but steady. Their eyebrows were bushy and starkly white, as were their beards, which had been tied at regular intervals with colorful bands of dyed leather. There was no hair on their heads, and Ejelano could see age spots covering their scalps. All the people gathered at the clearing bowed reverently, hands out and palms up in respect. As they reached the clearing, the venerable trio halted, waiting. Each one turned to Banoro who, as the holder of the current Cycle, was the only one who was permitted to address them, and only in the ancient language. Each new leader was taught how to speak it at the beginning of his Cycle, and it was his responsibility that he teach the next at its end. And so it had been down through the generations.

  “N’gano sano sah, gundo yeena pineh t’uun.” Banoro said to them. “Olhando’sah bruntu teela gundo.”

  To the rest he said, “We will now hear the extent of the charges, and submit them to the elders for their verdict. As is my charge, I name you, Olhando, to be the Mouth and the Hand for this trial.”

  Ejelano saw Olhando’s eyes gleaming. Although there had not been a trial such as this for many generations, he knew that to be chosen to be the Mouth, or presenter of the charges, and the Hand, the deliverer of the punishment, was a great honor. He threw out his chest and strode into the middle of the clearing, soaking in the attention of his peers. Banoro nodded to him, which he returned before bowing once more to the elders. He then paused, letting the moment settle over the crowd like a true showman.

  “Though there may only be two victims,” he began in a strong, clear voice, “we have all been wronged today. As our wise leader has already expressed,” at this he swept an arm toward Banoro, “we have laws that we follow for the sake of our protection. We have many things to be wary of, in this world. War, sickness, barren hunting grounds, the predators of the forest; all of these things threaten our way of things. But when we must fear our own kind, our brother, our sister? The very thought of such a thing is unspeakable.”

  Banoro muttered softly to the elders in the ancient language. Even though they had been raised knowing and speaking the common tongue of the people, it was considered too dirty for them to use once they achieved the title of Elder. And so, they listened only to Banoro’s translation.

  Olhando went on. “Here before you is Ejelano. He has earned your respect again and again, as a hunter, as a warrior, and as a teacher. But you do not know him, truly. You will realize this when I tell you what he has done.” He paused dramatically, enjoying his moment in the sun.

  “He has sent two of our family into the forest before they have been called.”

  Murmurs now rumbled through the crowd. Eyes fell on Ejelano, some full of shock, some of fear. Some, like Elhadra’s and Dwelo’s, showed complete disbelief.

  “I would not trust my ears either, brothers and sisters, had I not seen the horror myself!”

  At this, Olhando launched into an account of what he had seen, from first entering Ejelano’s house and the discovery of the bodies, to Ejelano’s confession itself. When the people heard of his admission of guilt, there was a shift, and more and more of their faces turned angry, betrayed...hurt. Only Dwelo still held his ground, still looking at Ejelano, perplexed and disbelieving.

  “With his knife,” Olhando said, “the very knife he has used in the past to help fill our bellies with the bounty of the forest, he has cut short the lives of Shaleer, his long-time life-brother, and Lena, to whom he was to be Joined on this very day. These two were his closest, his most cherished. The very fact that he could cut them down so savagely should make every one of us fearful of what else he is capable of!”

  Ejelano curled his lip. His distaste for Olhando’s theatrics was acute. It was one thing to merely present the evidence for his crime; it was another thing to slander him in the process. Ejelano saw that Banoro was having the same reaction to Olhando’s melodrama, for the same disgust sat on his face even as he was forced to translate it for the elders. The laws of the village, however, said that the duty of the Mouth was to speak, and none were permitted to interrupt his delivery.

  “We must protect ourselves. We must protect our younglings. As much as it pains me,” at this he placed his hand on his heart for effect, “to suggest that we even think of using the fullest extent of punishment to recompense Ejelano’s crime, it is decreed by the old laws that we do so. I submit that decision to the will of the elders, speakers for the forest.” He bowed once again, and backed away a few steps.

  “I am now silent,” he said, holding a pal
m over his lips for emphasis. “The Mouth is closed.”

  With Olhando’s indulgent performance concluded, Banoro once again spoke.

  “The old laws state that we must also hear from the accused,” he said, turning to Ejelano. “Ejelano, your mouth is now open. This is your time to speak your defense before your brothers and sisters, myself, and the elders who will ultimately decide your fate. You now have the power to either save or damn yourself. Use it wisely.” Ejelano could tell that Banoro was struggling to remain impartial, but the chieftain’s eyes were openly pleading Ejelano to say anything that might exonerate himself.

  Ejelano could feel the weight of his people’s expectation. The air was thick with it, filling his lungs like water and choking him. A weakness came over his resolve, and he experienced a momentary paralysis. Unbidden, this mind began producing reasons why he should explain what had really happened; how Lena had become a victim of Shaleer’s greed and long-marinated anger.

  Speaking of Shaleer’s betrayal would at least introduce the possibility of self-defense, which could lessen his punishment if the elders deemed it appropriate. Ejelano could remain in the village, and if the forest smiled on him he might even find another heart to bind his to, one that could fill the gaping chasm inside him. He didn’t have to condemn himself. He could fight. He could have a life. He could....

  Lena.

  There was no other. There was only her.

  He spoke, his voice clear.

  “What words I would now say, I have already said. It is useless to repeat them.”

  Banoro’s shoulders slumped, while simultaneously Olhando’s straightened, ever so slightly. Banoro translated Ejelano’s final statement in a lessened, resigned voice, and the elders nodded to him. They regarded Ejelano with a gravity that sucked all feeling from his body.

  “No!”