“Now for our fight,” said Kraal, picking his long spear up from the ground. His men arrayed themselves behind him, each of them gripping spears, while my band came together behind me. The dogs lay sleepily on their bellies, tongues lolling. But their eyes took in every move.
“You are twelve, we are only nine,” I said.
He shrugged. “You should have brought more men.”
“We don’t have any more.”
Kraal made a gesture with his free hand that said, That’s your problem, not mine.
“Instead of all of us fighting,” I suggested, “why not an individual combat: one against one.”
Kraal’s brow furrowed. “What good would that do?”
“If your side wins, my men will go back to their home and never come here again.”
“And if my side loses?”
“We can both hunt in this area, in peace. There’s plenty of game for us both.”
“No, Orion. It will be better to kill you all and be finished with it. Then we can take your women, too. And any other tribes who come by here will know that this is our territory, and they must not hunt here.”
“How will they know that?”
He seemed genuinely surprised by such a stupid question. “Why, we will mount your heads on poles, of course.”
“Suppose,” I countered, “we kill all of you? What then?”
“Nine of you? Two of them lads and one of the men with a bad arm?” Kraal laughed.
“One of us has killed a dragon,” I said, making my voice hard.
“So you claim.”
“He did! He did!” my men shouted.
I silenced them with a wave of my hand, not wanting a fight to break out over my claims of prowess. An idea was forming itself in my brain. I asked Chron to bring me my bow and arrows.
“Do you know what this is?” I held them up before Kraal.
“Certainly. Not much good against a spear, though. The bow is a weapon of ambush, not face-to-face fighting.”
Handing the bow and arrows to him, I said, “Before we start the fighting, why don’t you shoot me with this.”
Kraal looked surprised, then suspicious. “What do you mean?”
Walking toward a stately old elm, I explained, “Fire an arrow at me. I’ll stand here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t believe I killed a dragon. Well, there are no dragons about this morning for me to show you how I did it, so I’ll have to give you a different kind of proof. Shoot me!”
Puzzled, wary, Kraal nocked an arrow and pulled the bowstring back. My men edged away from me; Kraal’s seemed to lean in closer, eager to see the show. I noticed that Kraal pulled the string only back to his chest instead of his cheek.
I willed my body to go into hyperdrive, and saw the world around me slow down. The pupils of Kraal’s eyes contracted slightly as he aimed. A bird flapped languidly from one bough to another, its red-feathered wings beating the air with dreamlike strokes.
Standing ten paces before me, Kraal let the arrow fly. I saw it wobbling toward me; it was a crude piece of work. I easily reached out with one hand and knocked it aside.
The men gasped.
“Now,” I said, “watch this.”
Striding up to one of Kraal’s men, I instructed him to hold his spear in both hands, level with the ground. He looked at his leader first, and when Kraal nodded, he reluctantly did as I asked. Swinging my arm overhand and yelling ferociously, I snapped the rough spear in two with the edge of my hand.
Before they could say or do anything, I spun around and grabbed Kraal around the waist. Lifting him high over my head, I held him there, squirming and bellowing, with one hand.
“Do you still want to fight us, Kraal?” I asked, laughing. “Do you want us to take your women?”
“Put me down!” he was shouting. “This isn’t the proper way to fight!”
I set him down gently on his feet and looked into his eyes. He was angry. And fearful.
“Kraal, if we fight, I will be forced to kill you and your men.”
He said nothing. His chest was heaving, sweat trickling down his cheeks and into his grizzled beard.
“I have a better idea,” I went on. “Would you allow my men to join your tribe? Under your leadership?”
Noch yelped, “But you are our leader, Orion!”
“I am a stranger here, and my true home is far away. Kraal is a fine leader and a good hunter.”
“But…”
They both had plenty of objections. But at least they were talking, not fighting. Kraal’s face went from fear-driven anger to a more thoughtful expression. His eyes narrowed, became crafty. He was thinking hard about this new opportunity. I invited him to come and see the place where the god speaks, and as we walked back toward the echo canyon we continued to talk about merging the two bands.
The idea that had entered my mind was far greater than these two ragged gangs of Stone Age hunters. I reasoned that there were far more humans in these forests of Paradise than reptiles. If I could weld the tribes together into a coherent force, we would outnumber Set and his dragons. I knew that Set had a far superior technology at his command than my Neolithics did, but with numbers—and time—we might be able to begin fighting him on a more equal basis.
The first step was to see if I could merge Noch’s band of ex-slaves with Kraal’s tribe. It would not be easy, I knew. But the first step never is.
Chapter 8
Kraal was impressed with the echo—the god who speaks. But he tried to hide it.
“The god only repeats what you say.”
“Most of the time,” I replied, a new idea forming in my mind. “But sometimes the god speaks its own words to us.”
He grunted, trying to keep up an air of skepticism.
He was also impressed with Anya, who greeted him courteously, seriously, as befits a man of importance. Kraal had never seen a metallic fabric such as Anya wore: it was practically impervious to wear, of course, and literally repelled dirt with a surface electrical charge. She seemed to glow like a goddess.
He had never seen a woman so beautiful, either, and his bearded face plainly showed the confusion of awe, longing, and outright lust that percolated through him. He was an experienced leader who seemed to grasp the advantages of merging Noch’s band into his own. But it had never been done before, and Kraal was not the type to agree easily to any innovation.
We feasted that night together on the rocky canyon floor, our whole band plus Kraal’s dozen men clustered around a roaring fire while we roasted rabbits, possums, raccoons, and smaller rodents on sticks. The women provided bread, something Kraal and his men had never seen before, as well as mounds of nuts, carrots, berries, and an overpowering root that would one day be called horseradish.
Earlier, I had spoken at length to Anya about my idea, and she had actually laughed with the delight of it.
“Are you sure you can do it?” I had asked.
“Yes. Of course. Never fear.”
It was wonderful to see her smile, to see the delight and hope lighting her gray eyes.
After our eating was finished the women went back to the caves and the men sat around the dying embers of our big fire, belching and telling tales.
Finally I asked Kraal, “Have you thought about merging our two groups?”
He shook his head, as if disappointed. “It can’t be done, Orion.”
“Why not?”
All the other men stopped their talk and watched us. Kraal answered unhappily, “You have your tribe and I have my tribe. We have no people in common: no brothers or brides or even cousins. There are no bonds between the two tribes, Orion.”