“Does this male chauvinist pig act mean that we are finally getting somewhere with Old Dirty here?”
“It does, my precious one.” He winked as he shouted the words. “Please feed him, then I can put him to bed, after which I will tell you some of the interesting things I have learned.”
“If you don’t mind, we’ll eat separately. I never have got used to his diet of decayed raw meat.”
“I’ve found out about that as well. Let’s feed him and stake him out. I don’t think he’ll give us any more trouble.”
Ravn’s loud snores sounded from the high grass where he had been bedded down for the night with a braided length of rawhide securing his foot to a stake driven deep into the ground. He would be there when they wanted him.
“They’re primitives,” Brion said, chewing steadily on the dried rations. “Unbelievably primitive in every way, with all of their activities determined by strict taboos. Men are hunters and in control of all activities …”
“Not for the first time in the history of mankind.”
“Agreed. But this an all or nothing society, completely black and white without any shades of grey that I can find so far. The men hunt, and everyone eats what they bring back. Raw, as we know. Eating anything else is taboo. Eating cooked food is taboo. Leaving the forest for the plain is taboo other than brief forays for hunting. Men may make and use weapons, but anyone else …”
“I know. It’s taboo. Did you find out why they staged that night attack when they captured us?”
“Still the taboo thing. They saw us near the lifeship and machines appear to be the biggest taboo of all.”
“That might have something to do with the war machines.”
“I’m sure it does, but that’s all I could get out of him at the time.”
“Did you at least discover what was so important about the bone necklace.”
“I think I did. It’s complicated and I didn’t follow some of the words, but it seems to work like this. A man has a spirit, some sort of essential being. Women and children don’t, as you might have guessed. They just die and are forgotten like animals. But if a piece of a man is kept by the Ravn, why then he is considered still alive and part of the tribe, and still subject to the Ravn’s discipline. They were going to kill us in some ritually delightful way because we are taboo. But he was keeping my finger because that way I would always be under his control.”
“Delightful. Does this mean that stashed away someplace they have the finger bones of all their ancestors?”
“Probably. But essentially this sort of logic is no different in principal from all of the other cultures that bury their dead. In fact this is more practical. Just keeping a finger bone is a lot easier than a complete skeleton.”
Lea looked up at the star-filled sky and shivered.
“And these people are descendants of cultured and intelligent human beings. How did this ever happen?”
“I have no idea. Yet.”
“What is the connection between these primitives and the modern warfare we have seen here?”
“I have no idea of the answer to that one either. But I intend to find out. If Ravn doesn’t know, or pretends not to know, then some of the others will tell me. And they may have artefacts that will give us a clue. So this all comes down to the inescapable fact that we will just have to go up into the hills and see them. Find out for ourselves. They have been on this planet for thousands of years, probably since before the Breakup. They must be able to tell us something.”
“You keep saying us. Are you trying to tell me that you intend to risk our necks back at their campsite again?”
“The risk will be minimal this time.” He pointed to the case of weapons. “We go armed and we go by choice.”
11: Trek Into Danger
Slowly, in single file, they trudged across the plain towards the forested hills beyond. Ravn led the way with Brion following closely behind him. Lea stumbled along far in the rear, heavily burdened by the skin-wrapped bundle on her back. She wiped the perspiration from her face with her forearm and called out.
“Hold it right there! It’s well past time for a break.”
She threw the bundle to the ground when she had caught up with Brion, then dropped down on it with a grateful sigh.
“Drink some water,” Brion said. “Take a rest.”
“How nice of you to offer!” She spat out the words. “Generous too, to let me drink some of the water that I have been carrying on my back all day.”
“But we have no other choice, do we?” he said, speaking with the voice of sweet logic. She wasn’t buying it.
“What does that we stuff mean when I’m the one doing the carrying. I know that the argument is foolproof, that women do all the heavy work, like beasts of burden, in this broken-down society, that you would sacrifice all your prestige if you carried anything. Meanwhile I’m sacrificing my spinal column and will undoubtedly develop terminal hernia don’t smile at me in that condescending manner, you filthy brute!”
“Sorry I wish I could help. But we should be there soon.”
“Not soon enough …”
She opened the pungent lizard skin wrappings the creature had reluctantly become dinner for Ravn just two days earlier and rooted about until she found the water bottle. She drank deeply, then passed it to Brion. He just used it to wet his lips. Since she had drunk from it the water was taboo for a Hunter; they made no attempt to even offer it to Ravn.
“When you put the water away, hand me the case of percussion grenades,” Brion said it too casually. She looked up, startled.
“Is there trouble coming?” she asked. He nodded slowly.
“They must be under cover in the forest. I can feel their hatred, the same as last time.”
“But not quite the same as last time!” She passed him the flat box and nodded encouragingly as he slipped a handful of the metal spheres into his pocket. “You don’t know how much I’m looking forward to this.”
“We don’t want to injure any of them. But it will be most effective to throw a large fright into them. If we can establish ourselves on top of the social structure, they should answer any questions that we might ask. We’ll move now, but stay near me because they are sure to close in behind us. They’re good hunters and they are armed, so we don’t want to take any chances.”
If Ravn was aware of the prepared ambush he gave no sign, just trudged on ahead of them at the same steady pace. They wended their way through the shrubs, then on among the taller trees. A large clearing opened up before them. Their path lay across it.
“Stop here,” Brion called out in the native tongue when they were halfway across. “Give me water to drink,” he ordered Lea. Then added more quietly; “They are on all sides of us now and they are very tense. I’m sure that they’ll attack any moment’ now. Keep your hand in the bundle and near the guns, just in case …”
The silence of the forest was shattered by a high-pitched, warbling cry that echoed across the glade. It was instantly joined by the massed war-cries of the Hunters as they erupted on all sides. Ravn started forward to join them but Brion was on him in an instant; a single blow of his fist against the man’s shoulder sending him crashing to the ground. Brion placed one foot on his back to hold him there, then began to throw the grenades towards the encircling trees, one hurtling after the other.
Flame and sound exploded on all sides. Lea had known what was coming and had covered her ears; nevertheless she still fell to her knees, quivering under the impact of the brain-shattering sound. The battle cries turned to howls of pain as the men fell back or collapsed. In the silence that followed Brion’s voice roared out with anger, cursing them in their own language.