The magic unsettled us. We possessed the strength of Morana, we’d seen our enemies scream and die in convulsions, begging for mercy. Seen them flee. Knew all about the movements of the slave girls when we lay down with them. Some realized what awaited them, and squirmed beneath our weight, sensing that this was already death. But the boy’s stone was death of a different kind. We spent our time running and fighting, in the stone there was no time. Maybe we should’ve killed the boy and destroyed the stone.
We put our new slaves to work on the tower. It grew, but slowly. Ever since we’d seen the stone, we knew that new things were happening. We feared for our time. And we were more frenzied and cruel than ever. We were at war with all peoples, hunting and hounding them. They were wretched. Morana loved us alone, Death herself was our sister. The four of us were bound by the pact of the torn-out heart. Only we had had the strength to sacrifice our brother, King David, and eat his heart.
Soldiers from other nations began to come into our forests. Before, we had always driven them out. This time we waited though. The tower was growing, but didn’t yet touch the clouds. How far is it to the sky, we wondered. The top wasn’t even as high as the mountains on the horizon. We hunted down more slaves, but many warriors preferred to die rather than obey our commands and the lash of the whip. As time went by, though, we reared a new breed. A slave breed. Our sons tested their swords on the old and the weak. The slaves were afraid to grow old.
Then it happened. Soaring ran away. With one of the slaves. Our sons, humiliated, begged us to take them along. But we felt this was our business. We rode off. Brawler and Sad Man, The One Who Is In Many Places and The One Who Leaps, riding in silence. We urged our horses on. We didn’t know why Soaring had done it. She could have had any man she desired. Her brothers would’ve done anything for her. All she had to do to end her solitude was give us a direction. But instead she had abandoned us. With a slave. From some cowardly clan, not even a warrior. We urged our horses on, we knew we’d catch them.
Soaring sat on a hillside, a dog rolled in the grass a few steps away. We climbed off our horses. We looked at our daughter and none of us wanted to do it. She’d had enough time to do it too. And yet there she sat, head bent. Waiting for us. My fathers, she said … you know who Soaring is … she lifted her head and looked up at us. She was very powerful. You do not want to do it because you know who I am, she went on, and because you want to know … why I left. So I will tell you … something happened … I directed the building of the tower … and I was driving the slaves, but then something happened … this man’s heart spoke to me and its speech was very beautiful … I wanted to listen, my fathers, I blushed and turned away … but he spoke so beautifully, his speech sang inside me … and I knew, my fathers, that if that slave wanted me to, I would kill every one of you … you know who I am … and I would torture my brothers and set fire to the stockade and the tower … if that slave wanted me to … but he wanted only to leave … he is no sorcerer, my fathers … he is but a man … and a dog. She stood and went to the slave, who was rolling around in the grass whimpering, afraid … she spat on him, then gave him a hug and wiped him dry with her hair. She walked up the slope, stopped, back to us, then swung her arms and fell to the ground. One of us killed the slave, and then we stood over our daughter, knowing it still hadn’t been enough after what Soaring had done, we needed to renew our strength, make it greater. And one of us rolled Soaring over with his foot, and another opened her with the tip of his sword, and the next one cut out her liver, and the fourth one divided it among us. And we went on ruling the land and feeding Morana. And waiting.
Then a new tribe came out of the forest. Driving the multitudes before it. The fleeing tribes mixed with one another. Our sons told us these new men were Boii,* People of Battle, and wore helmets with bull’s horns. In battle they chewed the edges of their shields and sometimes tore up trees, roots and all, hurling them forward as they attacked. Nothing could stop them except death. We erected new palisades and dug the moat deeper. When the fugitives pounded on our gates, we drove them off with arrows and stones. We whipped our slaves, hoping they would finish the tower so we would have a chance to climb it. The People of Battle stormed us in broad daylight. The men howled like wolves, suddenly they were behind every tree, charging out of the woods in droves, leaping rocks, dodging arrows. Some of our sons dashed out the gate, seeking to test the new warriors. They greeted one another with howls and laughter. But we saw that our sons’ swords cracked and split under the blows of the Boii. Their swords and axes were different than ours. We slayed a great many with arrows and stones, but not one of our sons returned.
We knew our time was finished, and went to the slaves. Unless we killed them, they might attack our rear. They knew what awaited them and tried to chew through their ropes. The Boii will defeat you! one of them cried. They are gods, forest gods, and your land will be theirs. Then we heard the howling again and ran out on the ramparts. One of us went back and set fire to the tower. We appealed to Morana for the last time and felt an icy touch on our ribs.
We were blinded by sparks from the flaming tower. And as they ran the first of us through, we began to lose our strength. The new people tore our bodies to shreds. The tower fell and the slaves burned with it. That’s the way it was.
Ugh, Sharky … Bohler pleaded, c’mon, enough aready … Yeah, I said, I mean we all know the wheel turns … Hey, an did I really get two guys at once the very first day? said Micka. We looked over to where David had been sitting. He wasn’t there. Cripes, it’s just a fairy tale, Sharky cried. I only dreamed it! It’s just a dream!
We went racing out of the flat. David wasn’t in the hall. We ran downstairs. Look! one of us cried. On the light switch by the front door was a bloody thumbprint. Oh yeah, it’s been bleedin, I noticed that, said Bohler. He went out, Micka said despairingly, but how far can he get like that, I mean the guy’s like some kina zombie. Maybe we can find him, I said. Sharky was off and running. He went out in back of the buildings. I’ll check the sheds an the yards, you guys run out to the tram, barked Bohler. Micka and I took off. I gotta say, that pseudodroog’s one strong fella, but he can’t take me in a sprint. Maybe he’s on that one, I pointed. The tram pulled away, heading into the city, its curving route illuminated by sparks of electricity. The lights in the distance sat ready to swallow it up, to merge with its hazy yellow glow. Outta luck, Micka kicked a stone, sending it skidding across the tracks. Maybe he’s feelin better, maybe he changed his mind. C’mon, Potok, you know the tribe’s bust. Yeah, but where can he go?
We’ve got to believe, said Sharky, that he’s all right. Yeah, nothin else we can do, said someone. We can check out the usual spots, ask around, I suggested. Yeah, we will, all in good time … Right now there’s the Zone, that’s the first thing. After all, he left on his own. After all, guys, his business. He can look out for himself … he’ll hafta. But we knew our pseudodroog was very, very weak. An unless he’d made some kina arrangement with Helena, the Scarred One … he didn’t know anyone in town except for other crews’ bosses and byznys officials … can’t rely on them … all those guys care about is getting a spot at the watering hole … we’d taught him how to get around all right, but not when things change, we reflected.
Settle in now, O vultures and scavengers, cause things’ve gotta come to an end an I haven’t even begun, Sharky warned us. My dream continues, an it’s about another pack. It’s fast and slow, and you’ll find out what the earth is under your feet. So don’t shake your heads an quit tryin to solve the unsolvable a while, believe me, there’s various paths, various possibilities, various things … an one of the paths was the path of the people of Dull Knife when their pack’s G-night began.