Onio (26 page)

As
for Onio and that ridiculous prophecy, Iron Hands had stopped believing in old
healer’s tales long ago. The small humans were a nuisance, yes, but with the
right kind of leadership, the mighty sasq could squash them like bugs. Many,
many times over the years, he and Bouldar had argued this very point. Iron
Hands was all for going in and stopping the small humans with force, if
necessary, while Bouldar was forever going on and on about the old ways,
established in the ancient past, that stated the sasq were bound by honor to
protect the smalls, whether they deserved that protection or not!

“Bah!”
Iron Hands spat on the ground in disgust. He stopped for a moment and looked up
at the night stars. There was a clan, he knew, fairly close to where he stood,
that believed as he did. They did not trust the ancient ways and had spoken
loudly and often about their wish to take the fight to the enemy, instead of
cowering under the ground like scared rabbits!

They
had spoken too loudly, in fact, and just recently been banished from the
conclave for their radical and violent ideology. Iron Hands felt a tingle of
excitement. An elderly king, one who could be overthrown easily enough, encumbered
that tribe. It wouldn’t be hard to seize control…to be the leader who was
strong enough to make their dreams of dominance come true. A word here, a
whispered comment there, and Iron Hands would be king!

Lifting
his broad, flat nose to the air, Bouldar’s exiled brother followed the air
currents south toward a small, ruined tribe who had, unfortunately, forgotten
who they were, and in time’s passing forsaken what it meant to be the guardians
of the universe.

Chapter 30

For
Mel, the next few days were heaven on Earth. While she and Onio shared their
passion for one another at night, in the warmth and darkness of their sleeping
alcove, Mel spent the daytime hours learning the ways of the sasq people.

The
morning after the wedding dance, Rain and Petal took Mel in hand and led her
through the marketplace. Onio, meanwhile, had risen at first light and followed
Bouldar, Wolf and Hunter to the king’s chamber. He held her tightly for a
moment before leaving and murmured, “Learn our ways well, my love. My mother
and grandmother will teach you.” Then he was gone.

Mel
washed her body, which tingled and throbbed with new awareness, and smiled with
pleasure. Then, she regarded her clothes with distaste. She tried to use the
moss to achieve the same level of cleanliness as the first time but to no
avail. Her clothes were ruined.

Smiles
whined and got up, wagging her tail. Then there was a tap on the large skin
that covered the door. “May we enter, daughter?” It was Petal and Rain.

Casting
her clothes aside, Mel called out, “Yes, just a minute, please.”

She
used her physical voice to say the words, although her mental voice was
becoming stronger. It didn’t matter to the sasquatches what her voice sounded
like; theirs were, after all, just as unintelligible as hers was. Throwing a
fur around her naked body, Mel waited politely for the females to enter.

The
beautiful Petal entered first, followed by her foster mother, Rain. Mel gazed
up at the tall half-breed female and marveled. Her hair was a glossy reddish
brown and hung to her knees. Her body hair was scarce and perfectly placed. Her
large green eyes shone with warmth. Rain smiled at Mel and handed her a bundle.

“Take
this girl,” she said, “Your mother and I made them for you.” Mel took the furs
and unwrapped them to find beautiful, clean, new leather breeches and shirts
inside. The hide was as soft as silk, and tiny colored pebbles embellished both
shirts and pants in blue and purple…the colors of Bouldar’s tribal standard.

Mel
gasped and smiled up at the two sasq females with gratitude. Then, knowing the sasquatches
disdain for unnecessary modesty, she dropped the fur and put the new clothes
on. They felt wonderful and she twirled in place, showing off for her new
mothers. Petal took a wooden comb and tugged it gently through Mel’s hair,
while Rain told her they would be going to the market and maybe, if time
allowed, go to make an offering to the wise ones.

Mel
wasn’t aware there was a market in the cavern but wasn’t surprised. The place
was huge, and, she acknowledged with a blush, she and Onio had hardly ventured
out of their sleeping quarters in two days. Hair brushed and plaited, teeth
cleaned, Mel followed Rain and Petal as they made their way through the teeming
mass of sasquatches.

Mel
was shocked to find that the king’s conclave was not just a meeting place, but
also an actual, underground city. There were market stalls that sold everything
from tanned hides and cooking pots to fine jewelry and medicines. Food booths
sold jerked meat, fresh and dried fruit and vegetables and pressed ciders and
beer.

There
were games, music competitions, and animal acts. Mel had noticed before that
animals seemed drawn to the sasq people, and this place proved no exception to
that rule. Mel watched with amusement as three sasquatches urged their dogs to
dance, which the animals did with aplomb and enthusiasm.

Smiles
watched the other canines intently and then looked up at Mel with a question in
her bright brown eyes. Mel said, “Go!” and applauded with the other onlookers
as the little chocolate dog joined the others in a circular dance. Front paws
up, the five dogs jumped on their back legs in perfect unison to the drumbeat
of a nearby musician.

Mel
was shaken and amazed. She understood that there was some sort of magic
involved with the people she now claimed as her own, but still her skin tingled
with awe. The drummer stopped, laughing, and the dogs broke away from their
mesmerizing dance and ran back to their owners, grinning and panting with joy.

Mel,
Rain and Petal stopped by a vendor’s stall and Rain purchased some jam and
biscuits. The first time Mel had tasted one of the sasquatches biscuits she
almost spat it back out. They were so grainy and heavy, the bread was almost
inedible. Lately, however, Mel had developed a taste for them. It seemed as if
one of the biscuits would keep her energy levels strong all day, and the
slightly sour taste seemed to go well with anything.

She
and the sasq females sat and drank berry juice and ate their biscuits and jam. The
sasquatch people seemed unfailingly polite and milled about the market place in
an orderly fashion. Then, to Mel’s surprise, an elderly male approached with a
human boy at his side. The boy seemed a little simple-minded and beamed at her
bashfully, while the old male asked Rain’s permission to speak with her
granddaughter.

Rain
nodded pleasantly and the old male said, “Greetings, wife of First Son! My name
is Sparrow. This is my foster son, Tiki. He has never seen one of his own kind
before now and wished to see you up close. I hope you don’t mind.” Mel smiled
at Sparrow and looked over at the young adult in his care. It was obvious to
her that the man suffered from Down’s syndrome, but his eyes twinkled with a
joy so profound it astounded her.

Smiling
at Tiki, Mel said, “Hi, my name is Melody. It’s nice to meet you,” The young
man grinned uncertainly for a moment and then used soul song to speak, “Hi,
Mel,” he said clearly. “My father and I rejoice to meet the wife of First Son!”

They
grinned at each other for a moment and then Tiki looked down, laughing. Smiles
was usually reserved in showing her affection and Mel suspected the dog was
harshly treated as a puppy, but now she rose up on her hind legs and seemed to
wrap her front paws around Tiki’s waist in a hug. Looking up at his father,
Tiki asked if he could go and play with his new friend for a few minutes.

Nodding
his permission, he watched the young man run away with Smiles by his side. Turning
to the females he said, “I found the boy when he was just a babe, tossed into a
ditch by the side of the road. I thought that maybe I was too old to raise one
so young, but the wise ones helped me. Tiki is the joy of my heart.” Turning to
Mel, he bowed slightly and said, “Thank you, girl, for speaking to my boy.”

Mel
sat and stared in shock at the old sasquatch who had saved a young human
cast-off and raised him as his own son. Her respect for the sasq people rose
every day, in leaps and bounds. Rain invited the guest to sit down and join
them for breakfast, while his boy played with the dog. The party sat, ate, and
exchanged gossip. For a little while, Mel thought her life was perfect.

***

In
the king’s council chamber, New Moon sat facing the tribe’s leaders. He watched
as they debated amongst themselves the merits of various battle and rescue
plans. He knew that none of those plans would work; at least, not without
terrible bloodshed and loss of life.

He
sighed and wondered what would become of them all. The small human’s war magic
was too powerful. His soldiers were big, yes, and strong, but no one could
stand up to the weapons the clever smalls had manufactured.
Besides
, he
thought sadly,
warfare amongst them was strictly forbidden by everything he
and the wise ones held sacred
.

The
youngsters were forgetting, he knew. They thought that “might” meant the
ability to get what they wanted. They did not remember that their powers were
granted them only with the strict understanding that those powers were supposed
to be used in the service and protection of others weaker than themselves.

The
old king gazed at the tribal leaders and their guards and smiled. They were
magnificent and, despite all their talk of violence, they were gentle…no match
for their enemies terrible weapons. Although his wrinkled, old face creased in
a smile, his heart was breaking.

He
gazed at the two young architects of his people’s destiny and wondered how that
destiny was supposed to play out. They were smaller than their brothers, and,
no doubt, weaker. They were not even full-blooded sasq, but still…. New Moon
saw the way the two warriors listened intently to each king, silent and
watchful, obedient and wise beyond their years. Nodding to himself, he thought,
yes, destiny shines in the light of their eyes. Who am I to know the ways of
the stars
?

His
tribal leaders were working themselves into a passion though, and the old sasq knew
it was time to put an end to their dreams of bloodshed. Holding up his hand,
New Moon said, “Enough!”

The
sasquatches grew still and turned to face their high leader. He stared at the
most levelheaded warriors and said, “Silver Salmon, I would hear your words
again.”

Silver
Salmon was a middle-aged warrior from the far eastern shores of the continent. He
had apparently brought his whole tribe, over ninety members, including his
wives and children, in order to escape the escalating chaos.

Silver
Salmon climbed to his feet and bowed to the high king. He had been injured during
the journey through the tunnels. He stood tall, but his spear arm was cradled
against his chest and his hollow eyes spoke of deep fatigue and sorrow.

“New
Moon, thank you for allowing my tribe to occupy your halls. I know that…I know
our tribes have not always seen eye to eye. It gladdens my heart that, despite
our arguments in the past, you kept your doors open to us. Without your aid and
protection, every last one of us would be dead now.”

The
fiercely tattooed warrior stood tall, but tears rolled down his craggy cheeks. “Before
the trouble started I was the leader of over three hundred sasq warriors and
their families.” He wiped the offending tears away with a fist and continued. “Eight
moons ago though, something changed. The small human soldiers began an active
campaign against us. As long as they were allowed to steal our people with
impunity, they left us alone. However, any resistance on our part was met with
their cruel weapons. They used large cannons, and guns that shot gouts of
flame. We tried to fight back but they were too strong!”

Despite
his obvious strength and willpower, tears fell again from the male’s eyes. “I
lost over two hundred of my people…males, females, and children,” he croaked. “I
do not know what has changed, my king, but the small humans are at war with all
of our clans now. I have heard that almost a thousand of our people have been
captured and taken to the sere lands in the south. My troops are gone now.” He paused
to gather himself, and then roared, “But I would have revenge for the
destruction of my tribe!”

Every
sasq warrior stood as one, screaming in rage, and New Moon’s heart sank. He had
seen generations of the small humans come and go in his long years on the
planet. He believed in the old ways, and in the almost forgotten history of his
people’s lineage, but he feared that the time had come now for the sasquatches to
fight, to take the lives of beings smaller and weaker than they were, in order
to survive as a species.

Chapter 31

Two
weeks later and 583 miles away from the king’s conclave, Lieutenant Colonel O’Dell
smiled in satisfaction as the big sasquatch screamed in agony. Its long, bloody
fingers spasmed on the piece of white chalk and the chalk disintegrated into
powder.
“Hit it again, Corporal,” he murmured, and
watched as Iron Hands jerked and writhed against the restraints that held him
captive.