MEEK

by Richard Johnson

  The settlement was in its sixteenth year. Their neighbours in the fishing village had fallen on hard times. First, a raiding party from across the channel had plundered the village and burned it to the ground. The settlers responded with their usual generosity, feeding the villagers and helping rebuild. Next, came an exceptionally cold autumn and the villagers became sick. The elders were concerned they could be contagious; the situation became particularly tense when villagers started to arrive, seeking permanent shelter at the settlement. This was problematic, as the two communities were even less compatible now than they had been sixteen years ago. The non-religious humanitarian philosophy of the settlers and their reverence for learning, was not regarded as having any value by their pagan neighbours. The superior food production of the settlers was totally due to their advancement in metallurgy and agrarian techniques, which were seen as something akin to witchcraft by the villagers. The elders quickly concluded a large influx of these people into the community would destabilise it. The newcomers openly resisted the notion of assimilation through abandoning their own beliefs and even argued that, as the original inhabitants of the land, their ways should be paramount. As arguments started to break out and became increasingly unpleasant, the elders called a meeting of all the inhabitants of both communities together. Pekhrari, Hanif, Tet Hapi and all the original elders were still alive, but looked especially ancient and weary. They let Utet speak for the settlers.

  “Friends.” A deliberate pause. “Friends, we have, we feel, reached a suitable solution to your problems. The solution we offer is based on respect and recognition of our differences which we trust is reciprocated. We propose to build a new village for you at our expense, at a site just a little distance from your original home. During the construction of your new homes and fishing boats, we will feed you all and supply you for the next winter. This will place considerable strain on our own resources and it will be the limit of the aid we can extend to you.”

  Con stepped forward. “I think your offer is sensible and generous, and thank you on behalf of my village. I wish to be shown the new site so that we can appraise its possibilities. As the sun has only just risen, could this happen today?” Utet spoke rapidly with the elders.

  “Yes, I will take you there myself,” was his reply.

  Con gathered some of the village men and followed Utet on horse through the forest and along the clifftops at a fast pace. At nightfall, they reached the site of the old village, where some sick inhabitants were still living. They decided to rest the night there and, at daybreak, proceeded for another two hours. They reached a small hill on the clifftop, cleared and grassy. A sheltered cove lay below. There was a small lake fed by two streams that meandered through an oak forest set well back from the clifftop. An ideal spot, especially as it was further away from the settlement. Con approved, and said they would stay and start work. Utet wished them well and returned to the settlement. “It is a good site, Con. We can prosper here,” said a villager. “We passed sites just as good as this and closer to their settlement. I think our ‘friends’ have decided to put more distance into our relationship. Perhaps they despise us for our poverty and the burden we are to them?”

  “What of it? Let us take their offer and prosper. My family have had enough of hard times and charity. If we have to take another bowl of soup from them I’ll be sick,” replied Con’s companion.

  “You are correct, they do not see us as equals but as inferiors who would pollute their society. To hell with them! We will use this opportunity and prosper as you so rightly say.” Con felt his position in his small community had been compromised by seeing him take charity, he resented it greatly.

  The work was completed in six months, at the end of another harsh winter. The resources and food stocks of the settlement were totally depleted. The new village was far superior to the old and had its own small hill fort overlooking the cove which could provide some protection from the increasing numbers of people coming across the channel. A small feast marked the end of the construction, then the settlers went home to try and rebuild their own resources. Con looked around and saw a better future, but, as he watched the last of the settlers disappear into the forest, he vowed he would not swallow the humility of charity again from them.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  695 BC

  Confrontation is caused by failed politics, President Stone.

  The king’s men, twelve in total, rode into the settlement and watered their horses at the central plaza. Utet brought the tithe bag to them. The soldiers didn’t like the settlers, there was something in their manner that made the soldiers resent them. No hospitality was offered and the soldiers left, heading for the new village which was now one year old. They had been given directions, reluctantly, by Utet, who watched them ride off, remembering the dark feelings of his youth for those who served cruel rulers without compassion.

  Con saw the king’s men approach with a sense of panic. The village had not fully recovered from the raid and the disease. They would need another two years of harvests. He decided to try and buy some time. Some of the other men had already told the women and children to go to the forest. The king’s captain approached him, “One sack each of corn and root vegetables also two large live pigs, shell fish and ten crabs.”

  “We have the sea food, sir, but our recent misfortunes, which the king was unable to protect us from, have left us destitute.”

  The captain was peeved at the reference to the lack of protection at the time of the raid. “Then we will take six female slaves, as is the custom.” This would result in the village having no future children. Con had seen such villages before, no one left but old people, left to starve out their existence.

  “No! Wait, allow me to come with you as hostage so I may put our case to the king.”

  The captain was uncertain, hesitated for a full minute, then ordered the collection of the crabs and shellfish. “You will ride with us,” he said, “but expect a public hanging for your trouble at the end of the journey.”

  Con was brought before the king on his arrival. The king was an old man, late seventies, who wished for little more than food and drink and to be left in peace to enjoy them. He was, however, acutely aware and fearful of the neighbouring kingdoms and their ambitions. The hill fort in which he lived, presided over a town that had slowly grown to around two thousand inhabitants. His army was little more than a personal guard of twenty men. He was reliant on conscripts and mercenaries in times of threat. These cost money, which was always in short supply. “Kneel. What excuse have you brought me? What justifications have you for your worthless life? Why do I not have my tribute?”

  “My Lord, times and the seasons have been hard on our village. I am here to beg for two years of freedom from the tithe.” The king smiled sarcastically, “Would you care to explain that to my rivals who sharpen their weapons and manipulate alliances among themselves? The tithes protect your homes, your answer is No! Your people will be placed in servitude.”

  Con now had to offer the only thing he had left to bargain with. “Wait, My Lord, I can offer you better than the tithe! Ten, a hundred times the value.”

  “The village of the new settlers has grown into a town, big enough to rival your own. They are rich. Destroy them, My Lord, and take their wealth; my people will occupy the town, their fields and implements will be employed by us and the tithe can continue.”

  “What if they resist? Surely my men would be outnumbered.”

  “They will not resist, they will run. Their gods do not allow them to strike another human being.”

  The king stood up and paced slowly from his rustic throne to the window. These settlers could be a threat to his power. Their wealth could buy him mercenaries and double the size of his army. The fisherman’s proposal made sense but, if they fought, their numbers were large enough that he could lose everything. The king decided and turned towards Con. “How many men capable of bearing arms have you?”

  “Twenty-two, My Lord
, including myself.”

  “Then they will have the honour of serving their king! Captain? Muster all your men, two only to remain as my personal guard. Proceed to the fishing village, arm the village men then surround the settlement. None are to be spared. Do not destroy anything. It will be handed over to this man. Take all things made of precious metals and gemstones and bring them to me. This is to be done with complete secrecy.”

  Con, plus sixty-one men in total, rode into the fishing village. They gathered together a total force of eighty-two men then decided to settle down for the night and attack at dawn. Just before first light, they surrounded the settlement. The settlers had no guards on duty, the morning was still and expectant. Salihah dreamt of Sabri whose arms she expected to be in, just two or three days from now. Sabri would take the vows and be taught by the elders for a period of five days, then the wedding was to take place and he would never go to sea again. The sea had kept them apart for many years and they were both anxious to start a life together.

  Sabri was in fact across the channel, where they had made excellent time and had slept on the beach. The intention was to cross the channel at dawn and arrive at the settlement mid-morning. His father, who was now feeling his bones ache with old age, had given way to the many requests from his own kin and seafaring friends to attend the marriage. The people of the settlement were well liked and Sabri and Salihah especially were loved by all. The three ships held ten men each, double the normal number, plus Sabri and Nuhro. Everyone was in high spirits as the sails were raised and they turned their bows to the British coast.

  In the settlement, the captain drew his sword and motioned his men to move into the small stone houses. The slaughter that followed, spared nobody. Some, like Salihah, heard the noise and, realising what was happening, ran towards the forest, the agreed route of escape, but it had been cut off. In desperation, they turned back and headed for the cove. They were being herded like cattle, the soldiers hacking at them from horseback as they went. The settlers tried to get to the fishing boat but the horsemen got there first and set it alight. Salihah recognised Utet and ran to him for protection. Utet threw himself at a spearpoint aimed at Salihah and died in her arms. Salihah kissed Utet as he died. Con watched the captain dismount, walk slowly to Salihah and, with one blow with his battle-axe, cut off her head. Con turned from the scene and vomited in the sand, never having envisioned this level of barbarity. His fellow villagers had ceased killing ten minutes earlier, and stood around with white faces and blood-stained clothing, staring silently as the king’s men methodically finished their work. The fishing hut on the beach was ablaze, the smoke billowing black against a pale blue sky. The soldiers and the villagers went back into the settlement. The soldiers looked around for loot, something small the king would not miss. The villagers could not stand the sight of their own treachery and decided they would send their women to dispose of the dead and clean the settlement before they would re-enter it again. They left quietly, without saying anything to the captain, who was still busy plundering. Once the captain had finished, he realised the settlement was in no state to begin producing tithe bags for the king, and that the villagers had slunk off back to their own homes. He decided to set off to the village to remind them of their obligations to the king. The captain had no reason to trust Con, he warned his men to be ready for treachery from the fishermen. If there was any resistance to fulfilling the bargain, more blood would be shed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  695 BC

  Humans can die many times in many ways. The memoirs of Jay, Interplanetary Disc ship commander.

  The smoke from the small fishing boat and hut were clearly visible and the seafarers stared at it with alarm. They ran the boats up on the beach in their haste to get ashore and all leapt overboard, running as fast as they could to the bodies strewn on the beach. The screams from Sabri rent the air and they ran to him, shocked by the sight of him holding Salihah’s head. They hesitated at first, then tore it away from him and dragged him, still screaming, to his father. “Push the boats out and anchor them, put my son aboard and stay with him, do not let him come ashore again!” Nuhro walked among the dead, four of his men, with swords drawn, walked silently with him. Two of the men openly wept at the sight of the elders butchered while trying to protect small children and babies. None spoke. Eventually, among the more than two thousand bodies, he found what he was looking for: a woman dying, but still able to speak. She told him the full story. Then, looking deeply into his eyes, she smiled and whispered, “No, please, not in our name. Do not defile yourselves.” She then died.

  “Shall we bury them?” asked one of his men. Nuroh looked around slowly. His mind was racing.

  “No, run to the settlement. Retrieve enough of their hunting bows and arrows to equip each of us. Go, go!” Nurohs voice had been as cold as still, he strode briskly back towards the boats. He walked past the head of Salihah but did not stop or look at it and said nothing until he was aboard the boat. Once the whole crew were assembled, he said, “You are all required to follow my instructions exactly. Do not think, just obey. Set sail for their village!” Hearing the command and seeing the look of death on his fathers’ face, Sabri stood up and worked quickly at the ropes. The crew was filled with bloodlust and rage. They coldly worked while the plan was formulated.

  Con was with his men; they were all bathing in the sea when the three ships came around the point. They had known nothing of the impending wedding. As the traders usually came to his village first before going to the settlement on their way home, it was probable the traders knew nothing and, even if they did, might not be overly concerned about it. They never numbered more than fifteen anyway and there were twenty-two villagers on the beach. Also, in the village behind he could see that the king’s men were arriving and dismounting.

  The three boats anchored offshore in deep enough water that the men disembarking were chin deep when they came over the side. Con’s men stood, smiling and calling welcomes as they waded ashore. Con saw that there were a few more of them than usual, but they were relaxed and smiling at them. They knew nothing, he felt certain. Nuhro’s men had picked their targets carefully and approached them with friendly words of greeting. They reached for the short swords in their belts behind their backs as soon as they were in striking distance. It was the villagers who found themselves outnumbered and died rapidly after Sabri had sliced Con’s head from his shoulders. Once the village men were all dead, Nuhro looked up to the low dunes where the king’s men had been dismounting.

  The king’s men had seen this happen and were already climbing back onto their horses. The captain was screaming at his men to give chase. Nuhro gave the order to run back to the boats as fast as possible. On board, they had ready the hunting bows and some arrows of the settlers that they had retrieved. As the soldiers’ horses reached the waterline, they fired once and then a second time, once the horses felt the need to swim. Before they could reach the boats, which were still anchored, they found they had to make their horses swim the last fifteen metres. A third and forth volley of arrows at close range took their toll. The odds were now turning in favour of Nuhroh. His men took up spears to thrust at the floundering soldiers, struggling to control their mounts alongside the boats in the water. The captain realised the numbers were no longer in his favour and called the retreat. Most of them had lost their mounts and were trying to swim and wade their way ashore. By the time they reached shore, another three volleys of arrows left just six of them trying to catch and mount horses. Nuhroh’s men were also in the water now, screaming their hatred and in pursuit of the soldiers. Nuhro and his men mounted the horses and pursued the captain. Seeing the carnage and in fear of the traders, the villagers were fleeing. The captain and his men had to ride through the village in order to reach open country beyond and, although they tried to ride through them, they were impeded enough by the refugees to be caught by their pursuers. The captain and his six remaining men lay down their arms. The villagers stopped fl
eeing and watched in horror as the captain and his men were bound and then made to kneel. They were all slaughtered in front of the villagers. The heads of Con and the village men together with the soldiers’ heads were put on the boats. The captain’s head was tied to the saddle of his horse and sent back to the king. The village was put to the torch .The villagers begged for mercy and it was bestowed on them on the condition that they never return to this coast or served as vassals to the king again. The three boats returned to the settlement. The crew were remarkably uninjured apart from some scars that would soon heal. Their hearts and minds, however, bore much deeper, lasting injuries.

  Nuhro ordered his men to burn the bodies and around the huge pyre they placed the heads of the perpetrators on poles. “Is this the end of their dream, Father? I remember Salihah saying the stars smile on them and they would always prevail while there were stars in the sky… was it just a woman’s dream, Father?”

  “Our way is not their way, but their story is still not yet written. We must go to their mines in the north around the tip of this island. The dying woman reminded me of the isolated miners who worked there and rarely came to the town. They may still be alive and in need of assistance. It is sad news we bring them, but perhaps we can salvage something. They will dare never to come back here and neither will we. This place, from now on, is cursed. We will be plagued by the memory of this day for the rest of our lives. You have suffered a great loss, my son, and I curse all the gods for their cruelty on your behalf. For you must not curse; instead honour the soul of the woman you loved by remembering the joy she brought you. This evil world needs them and one day it may recognise the truth of it.” They all looked at the doleful scene and said their goodbyes, then walked back to the beach, now clean and waiting to be washed by a thousand tides. They boarded the boats, exhausted by the day’s events, and the moon was well risen as they sailed away, the glow from the huge pyre clearly visible, the black smoke blotting out the evening stars. Nuhroh was glad that his son would be kept busy during his grieving. They sailed on, sleeping only when they could no longer keep their eyes open. They arrived safely and sought out the three mines which were tin, iron and, across the water to the north, a gold mine.