Chapter-4-1

⁠—⁠—⁠— I ⁠—⁠—⁠—

“Ohh-yee…”

“Aiieee!”

“Yeee-aaa…”

Voices calling out to each other echoed faintly around Devil Rock, which cast a long shadow in the fading light of sunset.

“Are you all right?”

“Did you get hurt?”

The Devil Rock was a large, strangely-shaped upthrust of stone that rose from the rocky lands near Dog’s Head Mountain, well to the east of the oasis where the battle had taken place. The Rock was not the only unusual crag in the area; other great formations crowded the desert there, rising in every sort of weird and fantastic shape, and now as the light of the sunset dyed them red they looked like a gathering of deformed giants. In the stillness they shadowed a more diminutive gathering that was assembling at their feet: limping, wounded, grief-stricken little ape-men, the survivors of the Sem, who were now utterly defeated.

“Where is Kalto? Was he killed?”

Under Loto’s orders, Siba of the Raku was trying to organize the defeated wildlings; they were walking among the remnants of each tribe to look for the chieftains.

“Tubai? Tubai of the Tubai?”

“Tubai was killed,” a young warrior from the tribe answered heavily. Tubai, the yidoh keepers, were decimated. They had been few in number even before the battle, and had suffered heavily in it.

“Kalto is here.”

“Oh, Kalto—you are all right!”

Among the Sem tribes, the Raku and the Rasa had always been closest. Loto heaved a sigh of relief and reached out to embrace his old friend.

“Kalto is safe. But many of the young of Rasa were killed,” Kalto said with his dirty, bloody head hanging.

“It is the same among the Raku.”

“The Raku have the fewest injured,” Kalto answered sulkily, unwilling to receive that sort of consolation. “The Rasa are totally destroyed.”

“That is not true! Some day, you can have more children and raise them up strong.”

Kalto would not listen. “Many of the Rasa’s women died.” The chief sat down behind a stone and began to grieve with loud, sad cries. “Everybody died!”

Siba shrugged and, leaving Kalto to abandon himself to his grief, went back to work.

“Guro? Guro?”

“Is Ilateli safe?”

“No,” a young, heavily-built warrior of the Guro tribe, with wounds on his hands and legs, spoke up as his fellows were wrapping his injuries with herbs. “Ilateli died. Oh-mu’s red devils and white devils split Ilateli’s head in half. Ilateli fell down, and a horse stepped on him. The white matter was running out of his head.”

“Ilateli has died…” Siba hung his head. The powerful, courageous leader of the Guro had been a source of inspiration to the rest of the Sem. “Tubai and Ilateli have both died.”

“For the Guro, Ilateli’s son will act as chief until we can choose a new chief at our next gathering.”

A very black Guro stood up beside the big wounded warrior. “I am he,” he told Siba. “I am Utari.”

“Utari. How many Guro were killed?”

“Many.” Utari spat out the word.

“I am still alive,” someone declared in a rough, commanding voice, and it made Siba lift up his head.

“Oh, Gaulo!”

It was the chief of the Karoi. He had been wounded in the shoulder, but otherwise he appeared to be in good health and high spirits, and his ferocity was in full flood. Siba was impressed.

“You made it through the army of oh-mu!” Siba didn’t like Gaulo, but he could not help expressing his admiration at the feat.

“We, the Karoi, have already destroyed one of the oh-mu’s castles. We didn’t consider this much of a predicament,” Gaulo replied with exaggerated self-assurance.

Siba counted the number of Karoi around Gaulo with his eyes and then returned to Loto.

“Ilateli and Tubai were both killed. Gaulo and Kalto are safe. Not even half of the Guro have survived. The Tubai are almost destroyed. The Rasa are down to the number of a single clan. The Karoi made it through quite well—and the Raku, too. Many have died, but many have survived.”

The Sem had only a vague conception of numbers, so Siba’s report was imprecise, but he had described the essential truth of the situation. Before the battle, the united tribes of the Sem had numbered roughly seven thousand. In the space of a day’s bitter fighting that number had been reduced to two or three thousand.

Loto nodded, and stared around Devil Rock in silence. They had made it past the stubborn pursuit of the Mongauli and escaped to this hidden meeting place; they were unlikely to be threatened again by the invaders’ army for a while.

“I wonder how many of the oh-mu have died,” Loto said in a low voice.

“Not even half of them. Only one oh-mu was killed for every three or four Sem.”

“Hmnn…” Loto sank into a grim contemplation of the situation. It seemed hopeless, and it was still getting worse.

The Sem had fallen into a state of abject misery. Two of the five tribal chiefs were now gone, and the losses among the warriors had been tremendous. Among the survivors almost all were wounded. They were disorganized and scattered now, resting here and there among the rocks. Even most of those who were moving around the gathering treating the injured warriors bore injuries of their own. The badly wounded were crying and screaming constantly, and when their cries grew too loud the healers stuffed their mouths with herbal medicine to quiet them, fearing that the noise would draw the enemy’s attention. There wasn’t enough water in the makeshift camp, for most of the wildlings’ water bags had been dropped or broken during the escape. There was no food. The Sem knew the desert as only lifelong desert-dwellers could, and some of the more vigorous among them had been given orders to go out and forage for things to eat, but there was little hope that they would find what was needed; worn out as they were, they could not travel far.

“Loto.”

“What is it, Siba?”

“Are the oh-mu looking for us?”

“Hmnn…” The aged, white-haired face of Loto held an expression of bitterness as he considered this worrisome prospect. With so few warriors left, it would be hard to form even a small skirmishing force to face the several thousand troops that remained to the Mongauli army.

“We must flee farther away!” another voice put in suddenly. Siba gave a start. Kalto, leading some of his best warriors, had appeared suddenly on Loto’s other side. He stared intently at the old chief. “We must split apart into five tribes again, and join up with the females and children who have been hiding in the mountains. Then we must find a way farther east, or north into the high mountains, and conceal ourselves somehow until the oh-mu have gone. There is no other way for the Sem to survive.”

“No! That is no good!” In spite of his low rank, Siba could not help blurting out a response. “The oh-mu have no intention of leaving any of us alive. They made sure to finish off everyone who had fallen. The oh-mu intend to eliminate all of the Sem and wipe us from Nospherus. If we divide ourselves, they will slay us one tribe at a time no matter where we hide.”

“Is this young one the successor of Loto?” Kalto asked with a grimace.

Loto nodded vaguely, and spoke with reluctance.

“Perhaps they do not seek to kill us all. I do not think they would kill those who surrendered, if it came to that. And Nospherus is huge. Once we are in hiding they will not be able to find us so easily.”

“Nospherus is vast. But even we Sem do not know every part; there are places where we, too, are strangers,” Siba pointed out. “The areas we know—they will be able to find us there eventually. The areas we don’t know are very dangerous. We don’t know every secret the land holds. Once we leave our territory, we won’t know where the colonies of sand leeches or the valleys of the yidoh are. Who can say how many Sem would be lost if we try to make a new part of Nospherus our home?”

“We can think about that later,” Kalto said dismissively. His foul mood was clear in his scowl. “Battle is sure to bring death, and the Rasa don’t want to add any more to the numbers of our dead. Rasa is a small tribe. If any more of us die, Rasa will be extinct. Loto, if you do not wish to hide or escape, what are the Raku going to do? You do not hope to fight with the oh-mu anymore—or do you? The Sem cannot fight any longer. The Sem don’t have the strength to fight even sand leeches, now.”

“I—” Loto had just begun to speak when he was interrupted by a sudden exclamation.

“We must fight!”

The voice was high, young, and female.

“Suni, dear one…”

Siba rushed to her side. The little Sem girl had accosted them unobserved, her head and shoulders painfully wrapped with herbal poultices. She had listened to the conversation in silence, leaning weakly against a boulder.

“This is Suni, my granddaughter,” Loto explained to Kalto’s subordinates. “She was stabbed by a red devil. We found her fallen, left for dead.”

“Grandfather, Rinda and Remus were taken by the oh-mu!” Suni’s high-pitched, birdlike voice was shrill with emotion. “Please save them. Before the morning comes, please go back to the oh-mu camp and save them!”

Siba caught the frail body of the Sem girl as she began to topple over, and helped her to sit.

“Little Suni… You are weak. You must be careful.”

“They saved Suni—this time, Suni must save them!”

“Suni…” Loto lifted his hand, discomfited.

“That’s right! Riyaad said the Sem must fight to survive. He said that we had to continue until the sunset of the fourth day, and we would survive. If we did that, he would bring reinforcements. And Riyaad doesn’t break his promises! He will come back by tonight. We need to fight a while longer and lead the oh-mu astray, to keep them confused until the day is over, until Riyaad is back. Riyaad will be back to save us!”

“Oh Riyaad…” Loto whispered, remembering.

Kalto was furious.

“You want the Sem to hold out even now, when the oh-mu hunt us? When the day has ended, the Sem will be gone from the face of the world!”

“Grandfather, please save Rinda! Siba, please save Rinda! I beg you!”

“Both of them are oh-mu—the sister and the brother,” Kalto objected. “Oh-mu don’t kill oh-mu. But oh-mu kill Sem. To save two oh-mu, is it right to kill many Sem?” He turned to the wildlings who stood behind him. “Tell me, is it right?”

Angry cries of “Yaaa!” and “Yeeyaa!” answered him from many mouths.

By now most of the remaining Sem warriors had gathered around Loto’s rock to listen to the debate.

“Oh-mu kill oh-mu!” Suni screamed indignantly. “Suni was locked in the oh-mu castle. Many oh-mu were killed by other oh-mu and beaten by them with sticks.”

“Because oh-mu are evil,” Kalto stated simply. “We should not sacrifice Sem to save evil oh-mu.”

“If we don’t fight, all the Sem will be wiped out!” Siba interjected. “Those who die fighting sacrifice themselves to save the rest of us!”

Loto remained silent, still sunk deep in thought.

“Fight!”

“Save Rinda!”

“Hide, as quickly as possible!”

Siba, Suni, and Kalto screamed as if they were trying to drown out each other’s voices.

“Don’t shout so loud,” Loto told them gravely. “If the oh-mu are near enough to hear, the Sem will be exterminated before they have a chance to hide or fight.”

The arguing wildlings lowered their voices, but it was clear that none of them had changed their opinion.

“Fine. If the Raku want to fight, go ahead and fight,” Kalto spat. “The Rasa will take the Rasa’s path.”

“Just like that!” Siba clenched his fist. “We have too few warriors as it is, and without the Rasa…”

“Rasa cannot afford to lose more.”

“We need to fight to survive!”

“Rinda saved Suni!” the wounded girl put in.

“Then the Raku are the ones who need to repay the debt. The Rasa don’t have anything to do with it.”

“Kalto,” Loto said with calm solemnity. “Your mother’s mother is my sister.”

Kalto fell silent. Loto turned and slowly surveyed the crowd. With the weight of uncertainty upon him, he looked like an aged, white monkey with doubt and wisdom mingled in its eyes.

“Sem of the Guro. Who succeeds Ilateli now that he has passed?”

“I, Utari, son of Ilateli,” the powerfully-built young Guro answered immediately, and stepped forward from among the gathered wildlings.

“What is the will of the Guro?” Loto asked.

Utari hesitated; bold as he was, it seemed that he was not yet used to the authority of his new position. He turned and looked at his fellows. Whispers were coming from the crowd of Guro.

“The Guro are… ah…” Utari mumbled uncertainly, shuffling his feet. It appeared that he didn’t know how to answer in a way that would inspire the hearts of the Guro as their leader should.

“Ilateli said we had done enough,” an older Guro spoke up from behind Utari. Murmurs of agreement rippled quietly among the Guro.

“No! Ilateli was the bravest of the brave. If Ilateli was still here with us, I have no doubt that he would tell us to defeat the oh-mu!,” Siba countered passionately, not caring how his remarks would be received. “He was no frightened weakling to show the enemy his back during a battle!”

The Guro appeared to be unsettled by Siba’s words. Utari shifted his gaze between Kalto, Loto, and Siba, but said nothing more. It seemed that a turning point had been reached.

“Loto! I have something to say,” a deep, rough voice broke in suddenly, so harsh that everyone was startled.

Loto stepped forward a little. “Gaulo,” he answered simply. He had not anticipated the Karoi chief’s intervention.

“The Karoi know nothing about the promises made by the oh-mu named Riyaad. We joined the Raku and Guro in this fight because we received messages from Loto and Ilateli, and also because the oh-mu came to destroy our village. But the Karoi don’t remember any promise to save unknown oh-mu children or to become the lackeys of Loto and Riyaad.”

“Gaulo, listen to me…” Loto tried to interrupt, but the fierce-faced Karoi leader ignored the dignified old chief.

“The Karoi want to hear Loto’s explanation. Loto’s messenger said that fighting alongside the Raku would drive away the oh-mu—that this was the only way for the Sem to survive. That is the reason the Karoi joined the battle. But now we are still arguing about whether to fight or run away. Did you trick the Karoi, Loto?”

“This is no time to demand explanations!” Siba shouted angrily. “Loto is not the one who is wrong. This war would have gone differently if the Karoi had joined us earlier. Last night, if the Karoi had detected the oh-mu’s sneak attack, many more could have escaped. But an ally does not ask an ally for explanations after losing a battle.”

“No one is talking to you, young one,” Gaulo answered insultingly. “I am asking Loto.”

“The promise made by Riyaad,” Kalto began to speak with renewed vigor. “What has happened to Riyaad anyway? Where is the oh-mu who was with Riyaad? They didn’t leave to bring back reinforcements. They left us fighting with the oh-mu so they could escape and survive. Those two children plotted together with them! We cannot trust oh-mu—not any of them. Riyaad said to wait for four days. Those four days have already passed. There is no sign of Riyaad coming back. There is the proof.”

“Wait,” Gaulo snorted derisively, “what of his promise to return in four days? The Karoi were not told about that.”

“Listen, and you will hear what happened.” Reluctantly, Siba explained Guin’s promise to the Karoi chieftain.

Gaulo’s ugly face grew distorted with a sneer as he listened.

“Wait for four days? The Lagon will come to save us? Hah!” he yelled, his fury growing with every word. “What kind of child’s tale—leaving hostages! Hah! Gaulo of the Karoi should have been there. Not even a fool would dare to make Gaulo such a stupid offer!”

Utari stirred uncomfortably.

Siba could not hold his tongue. “The Karoi don’t know Riyaad! Riyaad has helped the Sem. Riyaad is no coward and would never run away by himself and leave the other oh-mu behind. If Riyaad said he will bring reinforcements, he will bring them. With Riyaad on our side, even if the oh-mu had ten times our numbers, we would win in the end.”

“Loto,” Gaulo snarled through clenched teeth. “This inexperienced one makes so much noise we cannot have a conversation. Anyway, the Karoi cannot put their faith in stupid tales of reinforcements, brought by some child of Alphetto born in answer to our prayers. Such tales do not answer the question of why we Sem have to risk ourselves to save two oh-mu children. If they are oh-mu, let oh-mu save them. If not, leave them. The Karoi have finished what the Karoi came to do. The Karoi will follow the path of the Karoi.”

“The Guro, too—the Guro are going with the Karoi,” announced Utari, urged by those who stood behind him. He seemed flustered as he spoke.

Kalto stepped forward into the momentary silence that followed. “Let’s hide in the mountains.”

Loto met Gaulo’s stare calmly and spoke with an air of self-possession before Siba could pitch in. “I see. The Karoi wish to run away without losing their heads. The Karoi don’t have the energy to fight against the oh-mu anymore.”

“What are you saying?” Gaulo’s voice began to rise, but in the next moment he broke into a smile. “I won’t be fooled by your trick. The Karoi don’t know the one called Riyaad. If he has made promises, let him keep them; it is no matter to us. We will do as we will. If you try to stop the Karoi, they will make their way by sheer strength.”

“Gaulo!”

Loto stepped forward, and Siba’s body grew tense. The young warrior and several devoted followers crowded close behind the Raku chief, gripping their stone axes. Immediately the Karoi who stood with Gaulo poised themselves for violence, holding their darts at the ready.

Threatening sounds like the growling and snorting of beasts filled the air; all at once the Sem were reduced to bristling animals facing off with all the ferocity of their wild nature. Their upper lips curled up and they bared their teeth. Siba edged closer to Loto, wanting to protect his chief. If the Rasa joined with the Karoi, the Raku would be left to fight alone against four tribes—the Karoi, Guro, Rasa, and Tubai. Even though these others were all at least as badly depleted as the Raku, together they formed an overwhelmingly superior force. Siba was undeterred, however; he still believed fervently in Riyaad and was determined to hold out for him no matter what. To Siba, it was not possible that Riyaad would abandon his friends to save himself. A low growl leaked from the young warrior’s mouth. Very slowly, Loto lifted up his hand in a calming gesture, as though he meant to speak again.

Just then a Raku warrior ran up, staggering from exhaustion.

“Loto! Danger comes! Oh-mu are coming here, bearing fire! They are searching for the Sem.”

Loto had learned his lesson after the attack the night before, and this warrior was one of the perimeter sentinels that he had placed around the new camp at Devil Rock. Now the Raku chief wasted no time getting to the point.

“Where are they now?”

“There are many torches moving in the desert. They are probably less than half a day away by foot.”

“Gaulo, Kalto, Utari,” Loto commanded briskly, “let this arguing cease! Gather all your warriors immediately, and let us go to Dog’s Head Mountain.”

“Dog’s Head Mountain? But there’s a pack of terrible wolves that lives there,” Kalto started to disagree, but shut his mouth abruptly when he realized that this was no time to argue.

“This does not mean the Raku are giving up on fighting the oh-mu,” Loto added calmly. “Anyway, I will still need some time to devise plans.”

“Do you mean to do that on your own? Or have you put all your trust in the one called Riyaad? Are you still waiting for the oh-mu who abandoned us so he could escape?” Clearly, Gaulo had made up his mind about the leopard-man.

“We will see,” Loto replied, unruffled, and turned to give an order to one of his messengers.

As he did, a second watchman came running from the edge of the camp.

“Oh-mu are coming this way! There are many!”

Tumult gripped the Sem as the news spread among them. Worn out as they were, it seemed they would not be permitted a single night of rest.