Part Eight
Map of the Stone-Builders Fortress
I guess I did find out about the fortress being built on the other side of the Great Cliffs, by the Stone-People, by way of Moss' information, whom gave it to his sister to my understanding. All in all, maybe he wasn't so bad, just a lonely old coot.
He also provided some stirring information, information I thought rousing: his sister claimed it to be true: that being, deep in the vaults of the fortress, in which one afternoon a few years back, Moss had snuck through the gateway (to be exact, the Acripagni gateway ((which was the only one with no doors but an open entrance)) of the fortress; thus, past the demonic-gatekeeper Moss went, and witnessed a young man with a tall looking animal with a hump on it, just holding it, not sure what it was, Moss asked the young fella what he was doing with it, but the boy called it a 'kamanial, or a camel', something along that order, in any case, he moved forward into the heart of the compound and found himself looking through a window in which he saw a selected group of misfits, as she tried [Thin-hips--telling me this of course] to describe them: the lowest of the low she called them, all very unclean, they lay about like worms in the stone vault, she said, '...vermin creatures,' she called them, that huddled in the corners, the women, with children and Dogs, while their mates paced the floor; and the privileges which were permitted them to nurse at the breasts of the human mothers, suckling babe on one side, a Dog on the other, --said Moss to his sister, these strangers were filthy and looked furious, and seemed to have [the males] a storm inside of them. Hence, he made his escape. That is the word she said he used--escape [her brother: Moss]; of which he heard this world being used I suppose from the Stone-Builders themselves: escape, meaning: to run away. A new word I'm sure will be imprinted in our memories soon. I was more or less astounded at this story, I was unable to fully understand his experience, and chuckled a bit, out of some nervousness I think. After she had told that story, I was stiff and sore from the long sitting and went for a long walk through the valley rejoicing my good fortune of being free, looking for Little-eyes.
The Camel and the Boy
[At the gates of the Stone-Builders]
I think I got to appreciate Little-eyes and our time together a little more after this, learning there is very little in life that brings deep satisfaction than the possessing of loyal friends, such as Little-eyes, yes, such friends are rare and valuable and one should guard this kind of friendship to keep it intact.
He [he being: Moss] talked about the wild winds of the sea, the great storms that came from the leaping winds of the sea, the Tiamat coming out of the Great Deep, some strange and greenish monster; he even drew pictures of vessels that floated on the water with the Stone-People in them. Something that never occurred to me, but why not; I had seen leafs float, why not a tree that looks like a leaf, as Moss had described it to be, to a few folks of the Horde. He knew much by way of his travels, and so I did believe in what he had relayed to his sister. No one knew how to get to the Sea though, but Moss would always say: simply go to this/his plateau country, and follow the crows, they all go to the Sea. But nobody ever wanted to go see the crows or the sea, we were happy here for the most part. And most of the ones that did go, never returned. I looked at Moss laying there, pale, leathery skin, his life was kind to him in age--he lived a long time, but now he looks so weather tarnished, with many, many wrinkles, and feet that look so very worn out, like leafs from last summer. I was sad for his sister, sad because he was all she had as far as family went; he was all she really cared about. For some odd reason she could never have children and never did find a mate, that is, one to live with, although she had a few visitors now and then, that is, off and on the folks, some folks, stopped in her cave to visit her. Now that I think of it, I must say, the way Thin-hips described he Gate Keeper, it resembled the Begetter.
13
The Longbow Man
[And Big-chest]
[Short-legs talks] We were formed--that is our character was formed--by something inside of us, something un-seeable, or so it seemed, as it was learned by us; --character being what the Stone-People called the soul, whatever that may be: liken to their God an invisible thing [being], as was their soul invisible. This character was formed by all the conditions that made us, as it was for Big-chest to be evil, and at times good; in a similar manner, it was equally common for our character, for us to be guarded, and open and possibly even passive. It was our nature. I had in my mind a lot of questions as time went on: but no answers, only guesses, and so it was, I daresay, but I will say, as we were getting older, I often looked back to see where we came from: finding we had learned more in my life time than one-hundred life-times before us. Knowledge was becoming more readily available: another mystery to ponder on I thought.
Little-eyes had brought to my attention one afternoon, as we talked about the affairs of the world, as such do men among men at times. And now that I am on the condition of character, it is a good time to share, or bring out some wisdom Little-eyes brought forward from, Owl-ears--to my attention; I sensed he was still a bit confused on the matter. He reminded me that Owl-ears told him [I think she told him this because he was so naive about human nature]: "Be not fooled by the charm you witness and ability of others in high positions [referring to Big-chest, or the King of the Stone-Builders, or the Begetter for the most part] whom seem to come up with the right and intelligent answers all the time, and try to say it is from experience, for this is not necessarily true, for behind their actions, thoughts and answers resides the equitably of criminal intent. They know what you want to hear, and say it; they are not like the Horde, who says what they mean." She then concluded, "These people are highly destructive, and adept at portraying exacting what people are looking for." I listened to Little-eyes as he told me this, for he really couldn't understand what she was saying, again it was because he was a bit short-witted, I hate to say that. But I addressed the issue the best I could and told him these people had--dinosaur-minds [psychopaths], he understood that a lot better. I like Owl-ears, but sometimes she talks above us.
Now as I was about to say, as I brought into this realm 'character:' I, Short-legs and Little-eyes were picking berries one day--we must had been our 15th year of life back then, picking berries by a huge White Pine Tree, some two-hundred-feet high, with a trunk diameter of some six-feet. It was this day that--a violent act took place, called Revenge: a character not quite put into words or expressions--in the past, the near past, that is to say, consciously after this day it formed its roots quite rapidly among the Horde, and the Branch-People, thanks to Big-chest. As I was saying, or about to say, I, Short-legs will explain: we [Little-eyes and I] were picking berries--eating most of them--as we picked them and carrying some in a big leaf for later on, in the dark of the evening it was, whereupon we heard the bushes being moved about--slyly. It was a lone youth from the People of the Fire. He had seen our heads, knowing this; we quickly dashed and hid from him, seeing his weapons, that being: quiver and bow: and their deadly-potential. I could tell by his smile, he liked the power of his presence, or what his presence did to us. He was chewing on the leg of a rabbit, consequently, his belly was full, or better put, surely he was not starving.
Next, he came upon a big pine, looked up, and saw three of the Branch-People; they normally would scoot upon seeing a hunter with a bow, but more often than not, they knew [the Branch-People] that they wanted food if they were hunting, and this lad had already gotten his food, that he most likely was hunting for, or so it was believed by not just the Branch-People in the tree, but by myself and my sidekick [as most groups or individuals did with a bow and arrow hunt for food], therefore, if they had food in their hands eating it, why kill?
Well, we learned something this day, one can kill for the fun of it: and so being up some twenty-feet, they remained in place chatting and laughing at how funny the young lad, stranger looked, especially with the loin covering and a portion of a rabbit hanging from his mouth and other hand. I doubt the youthful lad could have been over three or four years older than I-- potentially, seventeen or eighteen years of age.
Then a peculiar thing came about, yes, oh yes, quite witty: he positioned himself as if to be getting ready to shoot an arrow into the tree: aiming through the branches,--unbelievable; what for? I asked myself, he can't be hungry. My mouth opened wide, I wanted to say something, anything would do, but nothing came out--I, I seemed [was] frozen, paralyzed for the most part--stunned. The three in the tree, were not even looking at him, they had felt overly safe. Then the bowman, positioning his bow closer to his nose, his long stretched out piece of wood with a string on it, cocked his bow farther back, placing the arrow close to his check-bone, zeroing in on his prey: in its center, and in a millisecond the arrow left its wooden arch and it screamed, as I, I yelled: "Haahaahha...!" out of my mouth it came, out of my mouth like a dry dying gesture, not sure what I was trying to yell, but it came out that way: at that point Javaa-girl, looked at me, and her boyfriend jumped to another branch instinctively--: the screaming arrow went right into her, through her skin, entering her inner body, halfway through her chest. Then, she, she then, was stunned like me, but deadly stunned: her eyes wide open still looking at me, I had gotten her attention, but the arrow was too fast, my head now was completely popped out of a bunch of leafs, she was all but clear headed for me to see:--I don't think she knew exactly what just happened, not sure what just took place--unknowingly she had but a few, and only a few minutes, seconds to live: she started falling, helplessly falling, trying to hang on to branches as she fell, down--falling, falling, falling: her arms stretched out--kicking her legs in the air, every which way, the weight of her body forced her to descend even faster once started.
As she fell, she hit several branches on her way down, ripping her sides open, and breaking several bones I'm sure. When she landed, you could hear the thump, it was similar to, when Big-chest kicked that soldier into the fire and he landed, the sound was a grave whack, a severe punch, or cruel blow. She landed about three feet from the tree, almost on top of the bowman. He looked quite proud of his kill: more like slaughter, as she lay there still, as if it took some skill to shoot an arrow in a tree at a target not moving and looking elsewhere; her tongue perturbing out of her mouth now, an anguished death circled her eyes, as they shut. I took in a deep breath, and let out slowly whatever was inside of me, dead air, dry dead held in air. He knew he had an audience now--us, but he didn't quite know it all, that being, what was behind him. He saw the top of my head, as I quickly ducked, not wanting an arrow to strike me, but wanting to see what came next.
14
Revenge of Big-chest
I had not known sport hunting like this before, up till now that is, for that is exactly what it was turning out to be. I actually knew her, or better put, I knew of her. Her name was Javaa-girl; a sweet looking, not too large [Chimpanzee-looking] primate; and light did she laugh, when she laughed, for there was love in her breast (Javaa-girl, Javaa-girl!). Big-chest had what I would call a fling with her mother sometime in the far past--: and actually lived through it. She was quite young for her kind. Oh it is hard to tell this story, for out of her life she gave but a moment, and then all of her life was taken--yes, yes, in a rapture of calm-rage did he take it. He was in ecstasy's utmost core, this hunter, this careless youth who has no guilt: like the dinosaur-mind [the psychopath].
[Short-legs: thinking.] All creatures have natural senses at the expense of others, I daresay, for some of us we gain information through smells and seeing and hearing and we do not trust anything other than that. While others, like the People of the Fire and the Stone-Builders only have limited capability in this area--as I have partially mentioned before, we used these senses, as was needed, and optioned to use other measures for such needs as needed, like symbolic words, or some sort of language, or sounds: in a like manner, it maybe compared to images, as now we paint or draw images on stones within our caves.
As a result, we came to learn, and know also the seasons by the equinox, that is, when the seasons separate, and at the beginning both night and day are equal in length; this is more sense than knowledge to me, akin to the birds when they leave this area, they go to warm areas; --they know when to go and when to come back. But this was always hard for me to tell, as it was for many of us in the Horde, I just waited for the leaves to fall, the colored leaves, then I knew when fall was. But what I'm getting at is, Owl-ears, was the smart one in the Horde, she told us when the seasons were changing so we could store foods and leaves so we could keep warm in our caves, and sneak down to the Fire People to warm up at night. Owl-ears was the seer, or better put, the wise one. I would have to ask her why such a senseless killing has to happen; likely she will have the answer. [Short-legs now begin to refocus on the Javaa-girl.]
Javaa-girl
[A female youth from the Branch-People]
As I refocused my thinking to the immediate, she [she: being Javaa-girl] lay dead-still on the ground [Javaa-girl--my mind screamed], my eyes just stopped blinking automatically; I think I was frozen in some time zone. What just took place, my brain was trying to decipher. And this was not the all of it, as I peeked through the tall prickly-grass and bushes; I've seen the young hunter do something even stranger. A peculiarity I would consider new to this world, a first--meaning: no one that I knew had ever seen this before, something I had never considered, something for Owl-ears to explain to me, again: or at least it was new to our Horde and our reasoning. He cut off her ears, yes, oh yes; he cut off Javaa-girl's ears, for what! I asked myself? And dug out her teeth, yes O yes, dug out her teeth...
I would learn down the road of life, they were called souvenirs and trophies. In time I presupposed in my own way of thinking, this might become a new-fangled trend in life with the latest breed of people being brought into existence, not sure what it was good for, or the 'why' of it, and to be quite direct, I'd had no notion of such a thing, it simply never would have transpired in me, but it was, as it be, and I would not change it one way or another, that I knew for sure, I had not the power or the will to do, or try to do such a thing.
After the young hunter acquired all he wanted from the slaying, and none of it for nourishment, and I say that because encouragingly, what took place hereafter, may not have taken place had this youth chosen to take her to his camp site and distribute her wealth of food-protean to the group, but he left the carcass there to rot, become rancid: that is putrefied. Nonetheless, as I was about to say, the youth turned about, and to his overwhelming surprise there was Big-chest, standing but three feet behind him. If one could have jumped off the face of the earth, I'd have done it right there, and I think he would have also. Face to face they stood, Big-chest with his intensive eyes, looking with his deep engraved dark colored iris from the opening of his eyes: into the youth's tiny-stone-scared eyes, as if they belonged to a paralyzed rabbit. At a moment, within that moment, the youth dropped his bow and trinkets as his eyes, his pupils opened even wider than mine did a few minutes ago.
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
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