Rise of Man Book 1: Ascendance

by E. Wayne Stucki

  Chapter 10

  Pentor reached out to shift the branches of the bushy tree which was his hiding place. In fact the tree was more of a large bush than a typical tree but that was to his advantage. His enemy wouldn’t be able to see him through the dense foliage. With a small gap in the leaves created he peered at the clustered huts an easy stones throw away. Then he checked the suns position. It was nearing mid-day.

  A short time ago scouts posted along the mountains nearby had signaled that the strange flying things which had plagued the Clan for years were heading for Home Canyon. Only the fastest of the Clan could leave the valley before the things arrived but they’d have to leave their families to do it. Instead of running the Clan prepared an ambush for the Eaters arrival.

  He pulled an arrow from his quiver and tested the flint point to make sure it was sharp. A smile crossed his face. The Eaters that rode in the strange flyers had come to Home Canyon before and found his people easy prey. His smile turned wicked. But this time their visit would be different. There were hunters with bows and arrows hidden in various places around the village and near the gardens. If the Eaters wanted people from the Clan they’d have to pay with lives.

  A growing, thunderous roar told Pentor that the time for revenge was near. He replaced the arrow in the quiver, glanced up through the leaves to see three things coming over the western peaks. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before the fight began he settled down in the area created inside the covering leaves to hide a hunter to wait for his chance.

  As they’d done so many times before the strange flyers flew back and forth over the huts and gardens sending dust into the air. A large number of small objects fell from the flying things. These objects were spread out among the huts of the village and in the gardens. Several were located between the village and Home Cave to take advantage of the breeze. Fortunately, none were close to his position.

  Pentor watched as the flying things finished dropping the objects, rose and flew off to hover above the end of the valley away from the huts. It seemed they were taking up guard position to make sure no one escaped. His attention was drawn back to the huts when he heard several thunderclaps. White clouds on the ground were starting to drift down the canyon into the village and he knew that the bad air which made people sleep had been released.

  Pentor watched the clouds begin to dissipate and nodded. He’d selected this fighting position intentionally. The wind was coming down the canyon, moving through the village and away from Home Cave. That way the breeze would keep the bad air away from him so he could stay awake to protect the Clan.

  The sun had reached mid afternoon when the flying things left their guard position and returned. They were careful to leave as much bad air in the valley as possible and flew close to the mountains. One circled around to fly over his hiding place. Wind coming down from that flyer caused the branches of his tree to thrash and whip around. Dust, leaves, small rocks and sticks were thrown about. But Pentor was prepared and shielded his face from the flying debris. A moment later the wind left and the dust clouds moved, staying under the flying things. He blinked the dust out of his eyes and watched as the things settled to the ground near the village.

  The hunter reached into his quiver which was hanging on a nearby branch to select an arrow. He checked it for any problems then put it to the bowstring with slow deliberate motions. Pentor didn’t want to let the Eaters know he was there.

  It didn’t take long for the breeze to clear away the dust cloud thrown up by the strange flyers landing. He watched as openings appeared in one side of the things and Eaters climbed out. Some of the creatures gathered into a loose box formation then made their way into the village. Others stayed to guard the flying things and still others went towards the gardens. One by one the Eaters disappeared into the huts and a grim smile stretched Pentor’s lips. He knew they wouldn’t find anything.

  After the alert had been given all the women, the children, and the elderly had taken refuge in the cave rather than try to escape the valley. They weren’t fast enough to get away and would’ve been caught out in the open if they’d tried. The hunters with bows had taken up positions to defend their families.

  When the Eaters left each hut empty handed Pentor gave a quiet chuckle. The lack of people seemed to puzzle the creatures and those who’d gone to the village met outside one hut for a quick conference. One who seemed to be the leader pointed at the mountain where the Home Cave could be seen and began chirping. A moment later five or six started that way following the path that ran along the stream.

  Pentor gave a soft grunt of satisfaction. The path would bring the Eaters right past his hiding place and give him a perfect shot. Unfortunately the leader wasn’t in the approaching group. Chirps and whistles that the hunter assumed was talking could be heard coming as the Eaters closed on his position. He pulled back on his bowstring, careful to aim through a small gap in the branches and leaves and waited. “Closer, come closer”, he said softly. “Move a little this way.” As if in answer to his barely audible commands the Eaters shifted to avoid a large prickly bush and brought them closer.

  He watched as the Eaters moved past his tree. They were approaching an area of boulders when Pentor decided it was time. He pulled back a little further on the bowstring and loosed his arrow with a prayer for accuracy. Without waiting to see where his arrow went he stepped back for another. The shaft of the new arrow was just being set to his bow when a shrill, nerve shredding screech was heard. A hit! He stepped back to his vantage point, his bow ready for another shot.

  The group of Eaters he’d been watching was standing in a rough half circle around one of their number who was on the ground. He knew it was his target because the thing was screeching and writhing in the dust with an arrow through its long neck. While two or its companions held their injured comrade down one of the other Eaters bent over and broke off the feathered end of the arrow. Then it pulled the rest of the shaft from the neck. It examined the two parts of the weapon, testing the stone tip with a finger, while another Eater worked to stop the bleeding coming from the downed creature’s neck. A moment later the screeching stopped, only occasional spasms came from the downed Eater.

  Pentor saw the Eaters glance towards Home Cave then around the area. More chirps and whistles were heard coming from the group and he gave a silent laugh. It was obvious to the hunter that his prey was wondering what had happened or where the arrow had come from. He loosed again and this time waited to see if his aim was true.

  A soft shrill sound, that was almost a shriek, was heard as the arrow tore through the air. It flew straight and true to strike the right shoulder of an Eater standing over Pentor’s first victim. He’d fired with such force the arrow sank one third of its length into the creature. Pentor heard a loud high-pitched wail as the Eater pawed at the protruding shaft. Cursing himself for not being a better shot he moved to get another arrow. This time he would kill!

  In turning for his quiver he brushed against a branch disturbing the outer leaves of his hiding place. The movement was slight - as if a small, light breeze had brushed the tree. Pentor ignored the slip and placed another arrow to his bow.

  A flurry of chirping came from the Eaters as one of them noticed the movement. Or was it that they guessed the bushy tree was the only place the attack could be coming from? The creatures acted. While two of them tended their wounded comrade several of the creatures turned and pointed shiny sticks at Pentor’s tree. There was a series of thunderclaps and small clouds came from the ends of the sticks.

  Pentor felt a hard kick in the chest and was thrown back against the trunk of the tree. Pain surged through his body as he slid down the trunk; the rough bark stripping skin from his bare back. The impact of hitting the trunk knocked his quiver and arrows from their place. The thunders continued and parts of branches and leaves flicked off and fell to cover the ground and hunter. He looked down and saw that a little hole had appeared in the right side of his bare chest with blood bubbling from
the wound. Reaching up with his left hand he fingered the hole. He coughed and spat blood onto the ground then took some leaves from a pouch and placed them in the wound. The berries to ease pain were left in the pouch. Pentor wanted a clear head when he made the next shot.

  Ignoring the pain bursting from his chest he struggled to his feet then gathered his bow from the ground from where it had fallen. Leaning against the trunk Pentor worked to catch his breath but the pain and pressure building in his chest wouldn’t let him. Still panting, he looked around and found several arrows on the ground nearby. He almost fell over again picking them up. Then coming to an almost erect posture he put an arrow to the bowstring.

  Moving back to his vantage point he examined the scene spread out before him. Pentor could see that other hunters from the Clan had attacked while he’d been knocked down causing the Eaters to take what cover they could behind several boulders. He could see most of the creatures had arrows in them. There were two more Eaters on the ground, a short distance away, unmoving. He assumed they were dead.

  Pentor took careful note of where the arrows were in the bodies of the dead. That was where the Eaters were the most vulnerable. After a few heartbeats he was satisfied he knew what to shoot for and turned his attention to the survivors. As he watched, an occasional arrow would bounce off a shielding rock, come flying over the rock or stick in the ground nearby.

  The Eaters would take turns dodging those arrows to point their sticks over the rocks to make thunder. Thunders could also be heard coming from the village and gardens. One Eater turned and leaned back against the rock, rubbing an arm where an arrow had gouged a bloody line. It arched its long neck to keep its triangular head behind the protecting rock.

  Pentor pulled the bowstring back, gasping in pain and ignored the blood running down his chest. He tried to pull the string all the way back but couldn’t. The pain in his chest wouldn’t let him. After making sure of his aim he let go. The hiss of the arrows passage was just audible over the Eaters Thunder. He watched the arrow fly true to strike the creature in the chest. That was where he guessed its heart was. His target shrieked and slumped back against the rock it’d been hiding behind. The long neck dropped and the creature’s head hit the dirt sending up a small puff of dust.

  Startled at their companions cry the other Eaters turned to look. Pentor hurried despite the pain and shot again, killing another beast.

  The surviving Eaters raised their sticks, pointing them towards the tree where Pentor hid, and the thunders sounded again. Invisible hammers struck slamming the hunter back against the trunk of the tree and then to the ground.

  Makok watched the battle for Home Canyon from his concealed vantage point on the side of the east mountain. His feet shuffled in anxious movements as he itched to take part in the fighting. But he’d been told by Jakto that he was too valuable to risk in battle with the Eaters since he was the inventor of the bow and arrow. His job was to remain safe and evaluate the fight. Terlon had been sent along to make sure Makok followed the Patriarch’s instructions. His wife had added her own very sincere and stern warning to the Patriarch’s. Makok gave a little smile. He knew whose warning carried the most weight with him. Even with a guard.

  From this position he could see that his bows and arrows were making a difference. “What’s the count?” he asked.

  Terlon who was standing next to him shielded his eyes as he looked down into the valley. After a moment Makok’s friend replied. “I count at least ten Eaters down and not moving. I think they’re dead.”

  “What about the Clan?” Makok wondered.

  Herton, the Clan member who was helping Terlon guard Makok, shook his head. “There’s no way to tell,” he replied. “They’re all hiding or in the cave.”

  Makok nodded his understanding and continued to stare down into the valley. If the fight continued as it’d begun all the Eaters would soon be dead and the things that brought them taken.

  Just after another creature fell transfixed with arrows Makok saw an Eater not far from the cluster of huts raise a hand and arch his neck. Makok turned to Terlon and pointed down into the valley. “Look at that!” he cried. “That one’s talking to his hand. Has the fighting made the Eaters lose their minds?”

  Before anyone could even attempt an answer the noise of the thunders grew louder once more. The slender arms above the flying things began to move. Then the surviving Eaters broke from their cover and raced for their rides. Their long necks and tails were stretched out ahead and behind as they ran.

  “They’re fast!” commented Herton as the three men watched the Eaters streak through the village. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything that fast.”

  The Eaters were fast but not fast enough. Hidden hunters killed three more as they retreated. Those creatures who survived leaped into their rides which then rose into the air. The expected cloud of dust flew out to block everyone’s view for a moment. As the flying things rose out of the dust plume where they could be seen arrows flew from the hillsides.

  “I can’t believe it,” said Makok and pointed. “Look, we can’t even hit them! The wind just blows our arrows away.”

  “Yes,” said Terlon, “but it doesn’t matter. They’re leaving.” There was a brief pause as the men watched the things climb higher into the sky.

  When the strange flyers had risen about halfway up the mountainsides and were turning away Herton began pounding Makok’s back. “We did it! We did it!” he yelled. “We drove the Eaters off!”

  “Easy,” said Makok ducking away from the pounding. “I’d like to live to see my family again.”

  “Sorry,” the man said in tones that suggested he was anything but and stopped in mid-backslap. “But this is the first time the Eaters and their rides have ever been driven off.” A few scattered cheers could be heard coming from the vicinity of the village as the people of the Clan realized what they’d done.

  “We’ve beaten them off!” cried Herton thrusting a clenched fist into the air then turned back to Makok. “And it’s all because of your weapon.”

  The inventor of the bow ignored his companions and turned to see that the celebration down in the valley was just beginning. People were racing from Home Cave towards the village cheering and screaming. The hunters who’d been doing the fighting were also leaving their hiding places to join the celebration. Some, like Pentor, would never leave their hiding places. Most of those who did emerge were limping, all were bleeding but they were jubilant. They brandished their bows and yelled their defiance at the departing enemy.

  Makok was just moving to leave his vantage point when he noticed something strange about the Eaters flying things. They’d moved down the canyon instead of disappearing over the mountains as they’d done in years past. Then the things turned to face up the canyon towards Home Cave and were staying in place several men’s length from each other. Calling and waving a hand to catch his guards attention he studied the things. Down in the valley the Clan hadn’t noticed what their enemy was doing and had gathered to celebrate near the village center.

  A loud roar startled Makok as two small, thin grayish white clouds left one of the things. The clouds tore through the sky until they reached the mountainside above the Home Cave. There was a huge thunderclap and a portion of the mountainside flew up into the air. Huge rocks and large amounts of dirt cascaded down the slope to cover the caves entrance.

  Makok’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the dust cloud billowing down into the valley. “How could clouds break a mountain?” he mumbled.

  Members of the Clan down in the valley stopped their celebration and turned to stare at the rock and dust. They hadn’t seen the clouds hitting the mountain. Other thin lines of cloud traced from the hovering things to the village. Huts, dirt and people flew into the air.

  More lines of clouds left the things and moved towards the valley. The village was soon obscured from Makok’s view by all the dirt being thrown into the air. The roar of thunderclaps was deafening. Terlon sc
rambled in the dirt and hid under an overhanging rock while Herton groveled on the ground nearby. Makok had his hands over his ears to dampen the noise but remained at his vantage point oblivious to any danger. He just stood there and stared at the things where the clouds had come from. Even with his best bows and sharpest arrows how could they hope to stop the clouds-that-break-mountains?

  It seemed like an eternity before the wrath of those things were satisfied. At last the clouds-that-break-mountains stopped leaving the flying things and the thunders ended. As he watched the things turned, rose higher into the sky and disappeared over the western mountains.

  The breeze blowing down the canyon carried the dust away from the village leaving a scene of utter devastation. Only the rustling of leaves and an occasional falling rock broke the profound silence. There was no whimpering or crying of the hurt. Even Terlon and Herton were speechless. Below, the huts, gardens and celebrating people were nowhere to be seen. Holes and mounds; piles of dirt and shattered rocks dotted the landscape. Streamers of light grey smoke rose from smoldering splinters of wood only to be blown away by the light breeze. The once relatively flat valley was now a mass of smoking craters and ridges. Even the stream which ran down the middle of the valley was gone. There was no evidence remaining that anyone had ever lived here.

  After remaining motionless for many heartbeats Makok gave a slight shudder and lowered his hands from his ears. Pulling his gaze away from the shattered valley he looked up at the western mountains expecting to see three black dots making noise coming back over the ridges. But there weren’t any. When he was sure the flying things had disappeared and weren’t returning he began hiking down the mountainside.

  His first steps were faltering, then became steady, and picked up speed until he was running. Makok careened around trees, crashed through bushes and jumped over rocks heedless of the noise or danger. Branches and rocks cut and scratched his arms and legs.

  Moments later he left the trees and arrived at the village. Or at least he was where the huts had once stood. He scrambled into holes and up rock strewn mounds, moving through the still rising smoke looking for anyone of the Clan. All that was to be seen was smoke, dirt, rocks and smoldering splinters of wood.

  Makok was just climbing out of a hole when the sound of rocks being disturbed jerked him around. He looked to see his guard from the Clan stumbling behind him.

  “It isn’t possible,” said Herton. His face was dusty and streaked where tears had run. Blood was running down a leg from a slash received in his run down the mountain. “Those huts had been made out of the heaviest logs we could carry. There’s only splinters left.”

  Makok interrupted before the man could go on. “What’s that smell?” he asked sniffing. Herton took a deep breath, testing the air, and shrugged his shoulders. Makok checked the air again but couldn’t decide what the odor was. Shaking his head sadly he left the devastated village and continued on to where the Home Cave had been. “The whole mountainside’s come down,” he said in wonder looking up at the mountain. A treeless scar could be seen where rocks and dirt had come down the slope.

  “The Home Cave is gone,” repeated Makok. His face reflected the shock they were all feeling. “The mountainside just fell into the valley.”

  “They can’t all be dead!” said Terlon who had stumbled up to join them. “Someone’s got to be alive in there.”

  Makok stood back and looked up at the mound of dirt before him then shook his head. “Everyone had left the cave to celebrate the victory and was in the valley when the clouds struck.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Or at least I think they did.” Makok shook his head again. “Whether they stayed in the cave or not it doesn’t matter. They’re all dead because they’re buried. There’s too much dirt. We can’t dig them out.”