by John Migacz
CHAPTER 10
Hotnac ignored the insect buzzing near his ear and kept his eyes on the trail. The orange sun blazed hot on his back but a wisp of a breeze cooled his face. Hotnac and Susnac flanked Watcher-Who-Comes as they lay on their bellies on a bluff overlooking a scruffy trail. Possibly an old riverbed, the trail cut its way down from the cooler green highlands to the dusty, hot lowlands.
Hotnac was glad the sharp eyes of Watcher-Who-Comes had noticed the dust cloud moving down the trail in front of them. This was good ambush country, mostly stone ridges dotted with pockets of hilly forests. A bad place to be caught by an enemy – but a good place to do the catching.
They watched the slow advance of five Torbu along the path. They walked in a waddling gait, often using their arms as extra legs. They stopped periodically to straighten and sniff the air.
Hotnac studied the squat, blue-skinned creatures. Their overly long arms and immense muscles were made for digging – or clawing. They were half his size but close in strength, something he had learned from his first encounter with the Torbu. His grip tightened on the club as he glanced at the ragged scar on his arm. Gris, it was said, had a toothache the day he created Torbu. Hotnac knew this had to be true.
The closest of the Torbu straightened and studied the trail. Hotnac could see broken yellow teeth in its jutting jaw. In this bright sun, a dark nictitating membrane acted as a natural sun block and covered its red eyes. It made it look as if it were blind. He wished all Torbu blind – then they could not try to take Morgur caves.
Susnac lifted his club and whispered to Watcher-Who-Comes, “Let us descend and kill this drak that dare walk on our land.”
Watcher-Who-Comes turned to Susnac. “Do not be in such a hurry when there is no need. Watch the way the Torbu move. They are moving carefully, checking everything. Why?”
“Because they are Torbu,” said Hotnac, preparing to rise. Watcher-Who-Comes stopped him by placing an immovable hand on the Morgur’s back.
“Hotnac, will it matter if the Torbu die now or later?”
“I guess it does not matter as long as they are dead.”
Watcher-Who-Comes patted Hotnac’s shoulder. “Then we will wait.”
After several minutes, Dieya pointed his chin up the trail. “Now, what do you see?” A column of several dozen Torbu warriors moved down the trail. “If we had fallen on the scouts, the main tribe would have fallen on us.” He looked at the two brothers. “Sometimes it is better to wait than to rush into a Torbu trap.”
Hotnac nodded. He and Susnac had learned much from Watcher-Who-Comes. It had been a short journey but one filled with lessons of survival in this harsh land. Hotnac was beginning to look at his homeland with different eyes, as if seeing it for the first time.
More movement on the path interrupted his musing. A cluster of Torbu women and children brought up the rear of the column.
“They are moving the whole tribe,” whispered Hotnac.
“Yes,” said Watcher-Who-Comes, “and we must find out why before dealing with them.”
“Why do we need to know this?” asked Hotnac.
Watcher-Who-Comes glanced at him. “Something that threatens the Torbu can also threaten the Morgur.”
Hotnac nodded with understanding. “To be tribe leader, one must look far ahead.”
Watcher-Who-Comes smiled. “Hotnac sees much. Perhaps he will be Skull Leader someday.”
Susnac squirmed. “I too will be Skull Leader!”
“Perhaps,” said Watcher-Who-Comes, “but there is much to learn. Come, let us find this thing that drives the Torbu from their homes.”
They traveled the rest of the day through the arid land and stopped by a dry gulch for the night. Watcher-Who-Comes chose this site after passing up several that Hotnac had proposed.
After gathering dried scrub brush for a small fire, they shared a sparse dinner of dried camar, washing it down with tanga Hotnac carried in a skin. Staring into the fire, Hotnac’s thoughts troubled him. He had learned much on this trek, but the lessons ran around in his head like griplaks chasing each others’ tails.
“Watcher-Who-Comes, why is this night-holding better than the nice one with the pool we passed a while ago? Why do we camp here?”
Dieya smiled. “Hotnac, you have an inquisitive mind. That is good. Think on that last place. How many ways in and out were there?”
“Just the one opening to the cutout, but it had a small pool and nice soft grass,” replied Hotnac.
“And if another band of Torbu came in the night, how would we escape?” asked Watcher-Who-Comes.
Susnac waved his club. “We would fight to the death and the clan would sing of our valor!”
“Isn’t it better to kill your enemies and live to kill more on another day?” asked Watcher-Who-Comes. “And besides, if we died, the Rak clan would not know of your valor, but the Torbu clan would certainly sing of your stupidity.”
“Watcher-Who-Comes,” said Susnac, “it is said that you cannot be killed, so we should not worry.”
Dieya laughed and lay back, wrapping his dark cape around him for sleep. Pulling his hood over his eyes, he smiled. “Perhaps I cannot be killed, but you surely can.”
Hotnac exchanged glances with his brother. Susnac shrugged and lay down to sleep while Hotnac stared into the fire, thinking.
There was more to being a leader than a strong club and loud roar.