Zan-Gah and the Beautiful Country (15 page)

The Noi warriors were gathered outside, poking their long spears into the opening, when Dael had an idea. Crouching down in a corner of the den, and holding his pets on either side of him in his strong arms, he began howling and goading them as he had often done in sport.
The animals responded with shrill yelps and wails that reverberated within the hollow:
Arroo-roo-roo. Yi-yi. Arroo-roo.
The uncanny resonance emerging from the earth was hardly to be described!

Fierce and brave as the Noi warriors were, they were also superstitious. Things unfamiliar puzzled and disconcerted them. What were they to make of the strange tattooed man who kept company with wolves? Had he changed himself into a beast too? What was the nature of the magic these alien people wielded, and how could it be resisted? “Let us bring fire here to burn the wolf man out,” said one.

And so they did, but by the time they brought it Dael and his howling pets were gone.

 

 

 

 

Not far from the camp of the Ba-Coro there was a moist field with a gentle rise in the middle. Capping this dryer knoll lay a single patch of an unusually intense green that, even from a distance, stood out like a precious jewel. A sea of muted browns, ochres, and grays surrounded and set off this island of gleaming color, which was not very large—about the length of three spears. Every day Rydl could be seen on or near it, as if it were his private treasure.

The bright spot was grain that Rydl had planted and nurtured. He had painstakingly uprooted every wild plant from a small area, pulling out each weed and grass while working and loosening the soil to receive the seeds he had saved. He understood instinctively that the weeds had to be kept from coming back. Rydl was introducing a new population of plants, and the alien competition had to be expelled. Laboring to see if he could produce grain on purpose rather than finding it by accident, his efforts were rewarded with a ripening crop. Rydl could visualize a time when the entire meadow would be this same green color,
and his adopted people could eat without searching—eat what they wanted and store the rest.

But the war Dael and his men had so recklessly begun threatened to bring an end to Rydl's efforts. He would himself have to prepare for a fight, and it seemed likely that the field chosen for a battle would be the very one he had selected for his experiment.

It turned out to be so. This space lay on the path connecting the two opposing settlements, and since the flinging of spears requires arm room, both the Ba-Coro and the Noi tended to think of it as the place where a battle could be fought. And if everybody anticipated it, how could it fail to come to pass? Both peoples were preparing, training, making weapons, and practicing with them. Every night either tribe might hear the drums and chants of the other from across the lake, and each night the sounds were more belligerent and intense. Sometimes the separate rhythms mixed together in painful cacophony, already at war with each other.

Neither side challenged or informed the other, and yet, as if by agreement, both sides appeared on edges of the field on the same morning, standing in wait of the other's attack. The drums had told them what to expect—not in any explicit way, but when by night violent percussion is engendering a wild dance of war, who fails to foresee the approaching combat?

Dael's men, scarified, shaven, and in an aggressive posture, appeared first on their side of the field, not long after joined by all the warriors of the Ba-Coro. The latter
had the advantage of superior weapons, being well armed with spears, spear throwers, and slings. But the group as a whole was weighed down by the consciousness that it was they (or rather Dael's faction) who had broken an honorable truce. The Noi men appeared opposite, emerging quietly and rather suddenly from a wall of trees. Their abrupt appearance as if from nowhere made a frightening impression, for they were very numerous. Moreover they were tall, strong men, moving in concert in a single formation which indicated decisiveness and unity. Theirs was the attitude of aggrieved victims of a naked betrayal. They surely had right on their side!

Chul, whose huge bulk alone was like a weapon, led an attack. He did not wait for the Noi men to come into range with their spears, but ordered a fusillade of stones to be fired with slings before the enemy spears could present any danger. If the Noi meant to attack, they would have to do it under the storm of rocks flung with a speed and power they had never seen. Despite the repeated volleys of stones, they did attack on the run so that they could use their weapons before too many had been struck down. A number already were felled, but the Noi were brave and fierce combatants, not likely to take blows without delivering some in return.

The Noi men fought fully as well as the Ba-Coro, but they had a single fatal weakness: they were frightened, even paralyzed, by the unfamiliar. Once, just after Dael had been released from captivity, he and Zan had been able to face down ten strong Noi warriors because they were terrified of twins. The men had fled as if confronted by twin demons!
Now weapons were being used against them that they had never seen before. The Ba-Coro slings had stunned them with an unexpected barrage; and the launching of deadly spears from a hand-held throwing implement not only devastated their numbers with dead and wounded, but deeply demoralized them with the sense that some unfamiliar power or magic was being exploited.

Chul's gigantic size and bellowing voice also seemed strange and magical. Had Zan and Dael still looked at all alike, that alone might have turned the battle. Zan was well aware of the difference that might have made, but Dael, who had deliberately and dramatically altered his appearance, seemed unconcerned with the advantage they had lost.

Despite their superstitious dread, the men of Noi had come to fight. Spears were being hurled on both sides, but the Ba-Coro were gaining ground. After much brutal battle and slaughter on the field—in which Rydl's garden was thoroughly trampled—the Noi began to withdraw into the trees. Dael and his men were particularly forward in pursuing them, but once in the woods the benefit of their superior weapons was lost and the Noi were in a position to strike with sudden ambushes, so that soon the Ba-Coro withdrew too. Although they had driven the Noi away for the present, the battle had been indecisive; and the casualties were such that both sides knew that they could not sustain too many like it.

Poor Rydl, who was too gentle to be a good warrior, had received a spear in the thigh, as Chul once had in battle. But Rydl was no Chul. The delicate young man
collapsed onto the ground groaning in pain while blood gushed from his wound. Zan-Gah, seeing him fall, sped to his aid. He would carry him to safety, but it was absolutely necessary first to extract the spear from the wound. This Zan did as quickly as he could, ignoring Rydl's scream of agony. He lifted the frail body of his fainting friend on his shoulders and carried him off, leaving behind a puddle of Rydl's blood—which stained crimson the green swath that Rydl had so lovingly planted.

Seeking a safe spot, at length Zan leaned Rydl against an immense fallen trunk whose jagged, exposed roots sprang upwards over their heads. It offered some temporary shelter.

When Zan returned to the fight, it was already ending. Weary men, some themselves wounded, were helping to carry back the dead. Among the numerous fatal casualties were Morda and two of his sons. The young brothers were still handsome in death, and Morda still fierce and darkly frowning. Chul was hurt too. A Noi warrior had charged the giant with his long spear, but Chul had dodged the main thrust, slaughtering his assailant as he passed. Now, two men were bringing Morda's once powerful body to a place of burial while Chul, although wounded, carried the two slain boys, one on each shoulder.

Rydl also was carried back, half dead. Unlike Morda and the others, he had no family to grieve over him or to leap to his aid. But one who loved him, forgetting all of her coldness and reserve, screamed aloud when she saw his limp body borne from the field. Running to him in great distress, she threw herself on him with sobs.

It was Sparrow. The sight of her bleeding friend overwhelmed her. Now she abruptly rediscovered the depth of her feelings for the wounded man, and she could not hide it. But things had changed; she was needed now! For several days she silently tended Rydl's wounds, fed him by sips during his fever, sustained him in his weakness, and lay night and day by his side. With her loving help, Rydl would survive his hurt and the dangerous infection that followed. But he would be crippled for the rest of his life, limping deeply and supporting himself on a staff. He was lucky to be alive.

Long before Rydl could stand, when beads of sweat still glistened on his brow in token of his pain and delirium, when he was still struggling to form his words, he apologized to Sparrow, breathing heavily: “I am sorry, gentle bird, that I could not love you as you did me, and that I am entirely undeserving of your affection, unworthy of your tenderness.” He needed a moment to recover his breath. At the time he was in agony and did not expect to live. “You must see by now that I could never love or marry any woman, not even one as lovely and mild as you. I have cared for you as a friend, truly I have, but it was not in my nature to do more.”

Sparrow did not try to reply. She only pressed close to him as if she were indeed his wife, passed her slender arm over his heaving, upturned chest, and wept.

 

 

 

 

Siraka-Finaka, Chul's short wife, had grown very fat but she was inwardly unchanged. Chul towered over her, but only in physical stature. It might be said that her forceful personality towered over her husband's quieter one, and that her sharp tongue overpowered his slow one. The mother of three girls, she cared for little else, and was always fearful that they might lose their father if she did not curb her husband's warlike ways. She did not hesitate to let Chul know that she considered the new war to be foolish and unnecessary; and her wrath against Dael and his followers knew no bounds.

“You are an elder of our people,” said she. “Why do you permit a renegade band to make policy for us on matters of this importance? Your nephew—I mean Dael, not the good one—will get you killed. Then what would become of your family? Morda lost his great tusks and then he lost his two sons, and then he lost his life! Zan-Gah could die in battle too, and then what would Pax and her baby do? She is with child, you know.”

“With child?”

“With child, you blind oaf! We should have turned Dael over to the Noi when they asked us to, instead of defending him and humbling ourselves. You must realize that he is crazed, and I think you are too! My dear friend, Lissa-Na, who died trying to give a son to that brute, was of these same people we are trying to destroy. We did not hate her. Why do we hate them? If she had lived she would have found a way to settle this mess, which you are only making worse. Why can't we come to terms with them instead of fighting? Would you like me to wash your wound again? Turn around, you old fool.”

While she bathed the gash on his side, Chul thought over her words. He could find little to disagree with, but at the same time the idea of giving his brother's son to the enemy—an enemy who had kept and tortured him when he was a mere child, and certainly would slay him once he was in their hands—was not only unjust, it was unthinkable. Still, he resolved that Dael had to be controlled. He could not be allowed to foment further mischief between the two peoples. When Dael started trouble, the rest of them inherited the consequences!

He remembered Lissa-Na's fine qualities and wondered if others of her people had goodness too. Was it not so with the Ba-Coro? Among his own people there were some who were wise and deliberate, others who were stupid and rash. There were cruel people among them as well as kind. Even the twins—even Zan-Gah and Dael—sprung from the same womb on the same day, showed that people who ought to be alike actually could be very different. Must it not be so with the Noi as well?

But even if it was so, even if the Noi divided into good and bad, it was uncertain which group had the upper hand among them. For that matter, who had the upper hand among the Ba-Coro? People not only disagreed with each other, they often were at odds with themselves, leaning one way by day and another by night. Now that Dael spoke to spirits he could tell his men what they wanted. Surely there were good and bad spirits too.

Dael had tried a surprise attack with disastrous results. “Crazy as he is, he is not likely to try that again,” Chul said aloud to himself. The Noi were alerted and could not be surprised easily, and Dael's following was smaller than it had been before. They would not be difficult to restrain. In the latest conflict both sides had suffered severe casualties, and neither seemed anxious to mount an attack. Perhaps it was a good time to talk.

Chul wanted to act alone. He intended to walk into the Noi camp all by himself and speak to them man-to-man. But he reflected that the other elders would be angry if he did not confer with them first, so he approached them one at a time. They quietly agreed that someone should go to the Noi with an overture of peace, but Chul would need a translator, and there was no one but Zan-Gah.

Zan was consulted and he groaned at the thought of returning to the Noi. He had no desire to become their captive and victim again, having barely survived his recent visit. And he questioned the wisdom of Chul's resolution to go. At length he was prevailed upon to take the risk, not wanting his uncle to go alone. It was too dangerous. He kissed Pax warmly and tried to calm her fears. Her pregnancy was beginning to show.

The plan was kept secret from Siraka-Finaka. Chul knew very well that she would object to the father of the family taking on such dangers. By accident she heard about the mission, however, and refused to permit it. Chul would stay at home and let someone else go with Zan-Gah! Small as she was she had great authority with her husband, and this time she was determined to use it.