by Sam Puma
Jorobai felt a knot tighten in his stomach and sweat bead on his brow. Liana offered him water and he drank. For a moment he felt nothing but the coolness of the water on his lips, but when he looked back up at the cave the knot tightened up even more.
Everyone held their breath for a few minutes and stared up at the cave, not wanting to miss the moment when Jugon Drogon emerged. By the moonlight they could see Juitao’s small figure emerge from the cave, and a quiet murmur spread through the group as they watched. Behind Juitao, a large creature emerged. It walked on two legs like a human, but was twice the height of Juitao, and the top of its head reached the top of the cave.
“Jugon Drogon,” the people gasped in awe, and Liana began chanting a soft song, gesturing for everyone to join her and sing in unison.
Jorobai was afraid, and looked to Liana for support. She smiled at him reassuringly while she continued to lead the people in song. He couldn’t see much more of Jugon Drogon other than his immense size, as he followed Juitao into the trees and disappeared from view.
Liana directed the people to move off of the altar that surrounded Jorobai. The palika were led to sit on the altar all around him with the offerings of fruits, vegetables, flowers and herb bundles. Everyone arranged themselves in a semicircle behind the altar in two rows. They continued singing, and started up again with the drums and rattles. Two rows of torches lit either side of the pathway that would lead Jugon Drogon straight to the altar that held Jorobai tied to a post in the center.
The singing got louder and louder, and he could feel them getting closer. In his mind he heard Juitao’s laughter and saw him smile. He pulled on his bindings, but they held tight. He wanted to get off the post and stand back with the others.
“Liana,” he called out feebly, but his voice was drowned out by the singing.
Juitao emerged from the darkness beneath the trees and stepped into the torchlight. His smile stretched across his face while he slowly walked over to Jorobai.
“Juitao!” Jorobai shouted as his rapidly growing fear became unbearable. “Untie me! Let me stand with the others!” When his ability to form words left him, he whimpered.
“And who would you ask to take your place?” Juitao asked. “Take a deep breath and compose yourself. Sing along. This is an important moment for the tribe.” He lifted his head and addressed everyone. “We must all focus our hearts and minds and give thanks and praise to Jugon Drogon.”
Juitao led the people in a new song, waving his arms and dancing around the altar as he conducted the music. “We are the people of the island of Jugon Drogon, we give thanks to our protector, we honor you with gifts and sacrifice and the fruit of our labor, smile upon us and bless our lives.” Jorobai whimpered and tugged on his bindings.
The song continued as Jugon Drogon’s shadowy figure came into view by the torchlight, and he stepped into the light of the village. Jorobai looked up and his fear erupted.
“No, no, no, no… NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” His voice erupted out through his throat and cast a piercing sound up into the sky that drowned out the song for a moment. Jugon Drogon leaned on a large gnarled staff. His body was covered in long, tangled brown fur. He had grasping hands like a human, and long yellow claws protruded from his fingertips. His mouth hung agape. He had a long furry snout, shaped like that of a crocodile, with rows of sharp teeth lining it from front to back. He wore a simple, faded white tunic and a blue crystal necklace around his neck.
Jorobai’s scream shocked and silenced the people, and they all looked up at Jugon Drogon and stepped back. He looked down at Juitao and barked some garbled noises at him, gesturing at Jorobai in seeming irritation. Juitao was unsettled, and tried to calm him. “Please, Great Protector, accept our offering.”
Jugon Drogon barked another phrase at Juitao and turned to Jorobai. He looked him up and down, then looked into his eyes with his burning red eyes.
In that moment, Jorobai came back to himself. The infantile stupor that held him captive for four weeks dropped away in an instant. He knew it was his last moment and that this vile creature was going to kill him. “Sagaya, give me strength.” He spoke his prayer loud enough so that only he could hear. He remembered when Rongo came to him in a dream and showed him how to escape. Jugon Drogon took a step forward. Jorobai tensed every muscle in his body and pulled up on the post, but it would not budge. He grunted as he struggled, and Jugon Drogon drew closer. Juitao was right there, ushering him forward, with the bottle of Amoza in his hand, and Jorobai’s knife tucked in his belt.
Jorobai threw his weight forward, back and side to side, and the post began to wiggle. Jugon Drogon stepped up to him and stopped. Drool spilled from his gaping jaw and landed in front of Jorobai’s feet. Jorobai strained with all he had, and roared loudly with the effort, putting all his heart into his last chance to escape.
Finally the post came loose, and he held it on his back, and ran toward the jungle just like Rongo had shown him in his dream. But before he could take two steps, Jugon Drogon’s staff was there to swat his feet out from underneath him, and he collapsed to the ground. Jugon Drogon pinned his chest down with the staff, turned and barked something to Juitao.
“Yes,” said Juitao with a smile, “I thought you might enjoy this.”
Jorobai relaxed, he didn’t look up to see Jugon Drogon drop to one knee and prepare to accept his offering. He took some solace in his death. He would be free from Juitao. He would reunite with his beloved on the other side. Together they would greet Jankaro when his time came around.
He felt Jugon Drogon’s foul smelling breath on the back of his neck and his saliva was hot as it dripped on his head. He shut his eyes tight. When a loud roar erupted from the trees behind the onlooking tribespeople, Jorobai’s eyes opened wide. Jugon Drogon sprang to his feet, Jorobai struggled to one knee, and the whole tribe turned around in shock to behold Gondaro emerging from the trees.
“Gondaro!” Jorobai gasped. “Help me!” He was fully grown, towering almost as high as Jugon Drogon, and much longer than Jugon Drogon was tall. His fur was tangled and matted, and scars and open wounds decorated his body. One eye was half shut, due to a cut that ran over it from his forehead down his cheek. He was quaking with rage.
The palika erupted in all directions as Gondaro leapt over the circle of people and landed next to Jorobai. Before anyone could react, he swatted Juitao in the chest with his left paw and sent him flying backwards, and deftly cut Jorobai free from his bindings with the extended claw of his right paw. Liana ran to Juitao and the other villagers scattered, screaming in fright. Jugon Drogon emitted a guttural roar as he swung his hard wooden staff, cracked Gondaro on his injured cheekbone, reopened his wound and knocked him to the ground.
Jorobai sprinted over to Juitao and grabbed his knife. Juitao was unconscious and bleeding from his chest from two puncture wounds made by Gondaro’s claws. Liana threw herself over Juitao, wailing and sobbing, and held up her hands to protect him. Jorobai sprang up and turned around to see that Gondaro was dazed and Jugon Drogon was beating him with the wooden staff. It made a cracking sound when it hit Gondaro’s ribs, and he could not get up. Jorobai ran over to Jugon Drogon and stabbed him in the thigh and hip three times before he swiveled and drove the butt of his staff into Jorobai’s sternum and knocked him to the ground.
Jorobai was stunned and the impact from the staff knocked the wind out of him. Jugon Drogon swung down with the staff and would have crushed Jorobai’s skull, but when he swung, Gondaro dug his claws into his ankle and pulled, causing Jugon Drogon to miss. He fell forward and caught himself with one hand. He whirled around and swung wildly at Gondaro, but the Ashtari ducked to avoid the attack.
Jorobai crawled out of the way while the two beasts fought. Gondaro pounced, Jugon Drogon shortened his grip on the staff, hit him in the jaw and knocked him to the side. Before falling down unconscious again, Gondaro was able to drag his claws across the flesh
of Jugon Drogon’s forearm causing him to cry out a garbled roar of pain. While Gondaro lay there, he broke his staff over his knee and cast half of it to the side. He held the other half with both hands and lifted it. Jorobai knew he meant to drive the jagged end through Gondaro’s heart.
Jorobai ran up and used all his strength to drag the knife across Jugon Drogon’s ankle tendon, then ran the other way. Jugon Drogon roared loud and tried to pursue, but was hobbled, and Jorobai escaped into the trees. Jugon Drogon turned his attention back to Gondaro, who was mustering his strength and getting back on his feet.
Jugon Drogon stood on the trampled altar with blood trickling on the flowers and gifts that had been prepared for him. Liana dragged Juitao, still unconscious, into their hut. The rest of the villagers were nowhere in sight. All was quiet but the ragged breathing and grunting of the two beasts.
Gondaro had grown since Jorobai had last seen him, but he looked skinny and undernourished. His fur was ragged and mangy, he was scarred all over, and there was fatigue in his eyes that mixed with his battle rage. He looked like he had been fighting the vines the whole time he’d been gone.
Jugon Drogon was bleeding from his various wounds. He was smaller than Gondaro, but he carried a weapon and still held the advantage in the fight. Gondaro moved around, keeping his distance from Jugon Drogon as he attempted an occasional thrust with his broken staff. Jorobai looked around for something to throw, but after weeks of sedation and too much palika, he was gasping for air and needed to catch a breath.
Gondaro finally gathered enough energy for a pounce, but Jugon Drogon was ready and shoved the sharp end of the staff out to meet him. Gondaro tried to swat it away in midair, but it ended up driving straight through his paw and out the other side. Gondaro scratched Jugon Drogon’s chest with his other paw and they crashed to the ground next to each other.
Both creatures reeled from their ghastly wounds. Gondaro hobbled away on one front paw while Jugon Drogon reached down to pick up the post that Jorobai had been tied to. He lifted it up and started after Gondaro. When he turned his back, Jorobai sprinted in and sliced his other ankle tendon. Jugon Drugon whirled around to see that there was no one there. Jorobai had already gotten by him and ran to Gondaro’s side.
“You saved me, my friend. We’ve got to get that out.” He placed both hands on the big staff and pulled. It took two pulls to get it out and Gondaro cried out violently each time as his blood spurted out onto the ground.
Jugon Drogon moved slowly, but once they were finished he was there with the post. He swung down on Gondaro, but Gondaro pulled back. He sprang up again and Jugon Drogon was too slow to block with the post, so he opened his mouth and bit down on Gondaro’s shoulder. They fell to the ground with Gondaro on top. Jugon Drogon wiggled his head side to side, digging his teeth deeper into Gondaro’s flesh. Gondaro arched his back, and kicked his hind legs in a wild flourish, repeatedly digging his claws into Jugon Drogon’s stomach and ripping apart his organs.
The life went out of him, and his jaw relaxed. Gondaro collapsed next to him.
Gondaro was still breathing, but didn’t move. A puddle formed beneath him, a mix of his own and Jugon Drogon’s blood. Jorobai was dizzy and exhausted. He tried to crawl over to Gondaro, but his body would not allow it, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
Later, he awoke and it was still night. Gondaro was moving a little bit, trying to get up. Jorobai looked around the village and saw some of the men had emerged from their huts and were carrying spears, slowly advancing on Gondaro. Jorobai dragged himself to his feet, and scrambled over to Gondaro. “Gondaro!” He hissed into his ear and shook him by the shoulder. “Get up!”
Gondaro’s eyes rolled open and he saw the hunters approaching. He clenched his jaw and slowly dragged himself to his feet, holding his wounded foot limply. His growl started with a low rumble that stopped the hunters from advancing for a moment. There were six of them, and they continued to advance slowly. They were close to throwing range when Gondaro bent down over Jugon Drogon’s body and planted his face into his entrails. He reared up with a mouthful of Jugon Drogon’s entrails dangling from his mouth and shook his head back and forth, growling louder and louder. The blood went flying everywhere, and splattered on the hunters, who stopped in their tracks. Gondaro swallowed, a crazed expression flashed across his eyes, and he roared loud in their direction. All of them turned around and sprinted back to the shelter of their huts. Jorobai was frightened by the gruesome scene and the crazed look in Gondaro’s eyes. He crept back into the trees and watched while Gondaro ate Jugon Drogon’s entrails.
He resisted sleep for as long as he could, trying to keep watch for Gondaro in case the hunters tried another surprise attack. But his head kept bobbing up and down, and when his eyelids became too heavy to keep open he would let them rest for a moment before prying them back open again. After an hour passed, he was startled by a sound from Gondaro’s direction. He looked up to see that Gondaro had Jugon Drogon’s wrist in his mouth, and he was dragging him out of the village in the direction of the cave. Jorobai watched as he labored, unsure of what to do.
He resigned himself to the fact that he was too exhausted to do anything. He decided it would be best to get as far away from the village as possible before anyone came looking for him. It seemed clear that Gondaro didn’t need any more protection. Jorobai set off downhill toward the beach. He wanted Gondaro to come with him, but he knew it was not a good time to ask.
He made his way slowly through the night, encumbered by the extra fat on his body. He had to stop and rest frequently. After several stops he realized that the vines were not bothering him. He stood still and waited for them to start wrapping around his ankles. It had always happened any time he stopped. But now the threat was gone. Jugon Drogon was dead and the vines could not hurt him.
Jorobai decided that he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He was glad the ordeal was over. When he made it to the beach, predawn light filled the sky. He thanked Sagaya and collapsed onto the sand.
Ambush
Jankaro arrived at the top of the pyramid at sunset carrying the fan inside the yanigo box. Oranos, Rafael, Titus, Orion and Anhael stood around the fire wearing solemn expressions as they watched Jankaro approach.
There was a stone slab in front of the fire. “Put the box on the altar and open it,” said Anhael.
Tension grew in Jankaro’s gut as he got closer to Titus. Titus had composed himself since their last encounter, and stood calmly, flanked by his father and brother. He met Jankaro’s eyes with a stoic expression as Jankaro complied with Anhael’s command.
“Take out the fan and hold it up for us to see,” Anhael told him. Jankaro pulled out the fan and the flames kicked up. Anhael turned to Oranos. “Jankaro offers this gift to apologize and make peace with Titus.”
“My men,” said Oranos. “We must keep peace amongst ourselves. Titus, you are my son, second in command in my army, and our best swordsman. Jankaro, you are our new champion, and have offered innovative gifts to our war effort. Both of you now sit on the war council. To win this war, we need both of you to work together. You must make peace.
“Jankaro, you have offended my son by advancing on his woman. Here in Caladon, a man does not take another man’s woman by the hand. My son has good cause to be offended. I explained to him that you come from a different culture and did not mean to insult him or steal his woman’s love. I am willing to forgive and I have asked my son to do the same. What do you have to say for yourself?”
In the hours that had passed, Jankaro was able to let go of his feeling for Valera and accept the bird’s death. He had even forgiven Titus for attacking him. He realized the wisdom in what Anhael and Oranos were trying to do. He agreed with them that he needed to make peace with Titus. But still he didn’t like Titus or trust him much, so he decided to put on a show of respect for the sake of keeping the peace.
“I am here to apologize for my disrespect to you Titus, and I will from this day promise to take no interest in your woman and will never touch her. I offer you this gift with my apology, and hope that you will forgive me so we can seek victory together.”
Jankaro walked around the fire and stood face to face with Titus. Standing so close to him, he could feel Titus’ ever-present burning anger, and it made him feel off balance, as if Titus were throwing his emotional energy forward and trying to knock him back.
“My son,” said Oranos. “Do you accept this apology and this gift?”
“Yes, father, my king,” said Titus. He kept the pitch of his voice low and showed no emotion but loyalty to the war effort. He looked into Jankaro’s eyes. “I accept this gift, your apology, and most importantly, your promise.” He added emphasis to the last word. He reached out and accepted the fan from Jankaro.
Anhael came around and stood by both of them. “Raise your right hands and clasp them together,” he told them. He took both of their right hands and put them together at the level of their chests. Jankaro took no pleasure touching Titus’ hand in a gesture of friendship, but he hid his discomfort.
“Titus, may I use your fan?” Anhael reached out his hand and Titus gave him the fan. Anhael reached into a pouch that hung from his waist, removed a handful of dried herbs, and sprinkled them on the hot coals at the base of the fire. The herbs crackled and sparkled as they hit the coals, and released a fragrant smoke into the air.
“Look into each other’s eyes,” Anhael commanded.
Jankaro held Titus’ hand and looked into his eyes. Whatever Titus was thinking or feeling, he kept it hidden and his expression remained stern and stoic. Anhael waved the fan over the smoke and waved the smoke over Jankaro and Titus. Oranos stepped forward and cupped his hands over the both of their hands, pressing them together. Rafael placed his hands over his father’s, and Orion placed his big hands over Rafael’s while Anhael continued throwing herbs on the fire and waving the smoke over everyone with the fan.