The New World: A Step Backward (13 page)

Seconds Later at the Bonfire ~ 8:45 pm

While the children's focus remained frozen in the direction of the frightening noise, Mercivil glanced toward Protuk who motioned two sentries to check on the disturbance.

She spread her arms and talked soothingly.  "Calm down.  That just sounded like a crane or some other bird.  There's nothing to worry about."  She peered at Thoruk for assurance.  He nodded.

After several minutes of murmurs and chatter, an older girl named Curulka spoke out.  "Miss Mercivil, please tell us a story about Thoruk."

He shook his head. "Nooo, let's not go there.  I'm sure Mercy has much better tales you'd enjoy."

Mercivil winked at Curulka. 
Way to go!  That should distract them for awhile.

Aware that her buddy was fidgety and uncomfortable with all the attention, Mercivil snickered.  "I think that's a great idea, Curulka.  Sharing such a grand tale would be fun.  Where do I start?"

She sat cross-legged, grinning ear to ear while she looked at Thoruk.  Obviously agitated, he glared back.  Pretending not to notice, her voice changed to her typical storytelling tone that the little ones loved so well.  "Once upon a time, 26 years ago on New Year's Day, Thoruk was born in a small village called Ukeville.

"His good buddy, Stormulka, was born in nearby Ulkaville that same autumn.  And last, but certainly not least, the young man's gorgeous friend, Mercivil, was born in Beliville two years later in July."  She faced Thoruk and batted her lashes, then continued.

"Each of the villages was established by their families in 2037, and in 2052 the three merged into one which was named Ukkiville.  Over time, the families grew very close as more children were born and the village expanded."  As the words rolled from her tongue, she spread her arms out over the crowd then smiled.

"Thoruk's ancestors of the Uke family extended across the colder regions of Old Norway, Iceland, and Greenland.  In fact, your great leader came from the bloodline of Leif Erikson whose father was Erik the Red.  Both were famous Viking explorers."

One of the boys in the rear raised his hand.  "Is that why Thoruk has red hair?"

"Yep," Thoruk grumbled as his face flushed brighter than his nicely-trimmed, cinnamon-colored beard accenting his long, bronze-red hair.

Mercivil looked around the crowd. "Thoruk's ancestors shared stories of Leif Erikson becoming the leader of a large village in Greenland and discovering Old North America centuries before Christopher Columbus.  One old book I read described how Leif Erikson later formed a Norse settlement in Old Canada where he raised two sons, Thorkus and Thorgon."

She tilted her head.  "Notice anything familiar about those names?"

"Yes, both begin with Thor, just like Thoruk," replied Cougivil, the eldest boy.  "Was he named after Leif's sons?"

"No, not exactly."  She smiled at Thoruk.  "You see, he was a very cute infant with curly locks and dark green eyes, so I've been told.  Nobody thought a cutesy, little thing like him would develop such tremendous strength, walking and lifting heavy things much earlier than other kids.

"In addition to his colorful locks, he obviously inherited some of his brawn and vigor from Eric the Red.  After determining Thoruk's childhood traits and tendencies, his parents named him after the Norse god, Thor, renowned in Norwegian mythology for his strength and protection of mankind.

"Some of you may have seen the beautiful dragon design on one of Thoruk's battle-axes.  It is his most treasured weapon, passed down through generations beginning with Leif Erikson's grandchildren."

Extending the shiny but nicked ax high, the children's beloved leader pivoted and twirled the ornate blade for all to see.  Across the audience, eyes sparkled in awe of the magnificent display.

Deeruk, the fastest girl in school, rose to her knees.  "I notice Thoruk calls you Mercy and Stormulka, Storm, for short.  How come I never hear anybody call him Thor?"

"Heavens!  He hates being called Thor; only Intellulka gets away with that.  I'll let Thoruk tell you why."

He looked intently at the gathering.  "Because I wouldn't want anybody confused about my intentions.  I'm proud to be named after Thor and I'm committed to using the strength our Lord gave me to protect people.

"But I don't want anybody to suggest I think of myself as a god.  I'm just a simple man who wants to do good through my actions and try to be an example for others to follow."

A boy in the crowd gasped.  "OOOOOH, Fluf farted!"  He and three companions scattered like scared rabbits.  "It smells horrible!"

Mercivil shook her head and sighed.  "Hey, if you kids didn't lie on her belly, she wouldn't toot around you.  Are you ready now?  Should I continue the story?"

"Yes, keep going!" the youngsters blurted, a few more rising to their knees.

"Tell us how you know Thoruk so well," Curulka queried.

"Ah, you want to get personal." Mercivil slowly nodded.  "Okay!  Since our families were real close, Thoruk, Stormy and I grew up together, playing when young and being educated and trained as a trio after we got older.

"Side by side, we received our teachings from Intellulka, renowned across the land for the wisdom he gained from many years of travel around several territories.  Our wise professor taught us to extend the capabilities of our brain, beyond what is accomplished by most.  By doing so, we learned to increase our IQs and utilize powers not harnessed by others."

Inquisivil, a young man who spent most of his time around Intellulka, cocked his head.  "What do you mean?  Will you show us your powers?"

Mercivil squinted.  "First of all, exercising advanced abilities can be very unpredictable and risky if not applied wisely and with control.  Each of us will demonstrate one of our powers to help you understand.  But we never use these gifts except under a dire emergency — apart from this one time for you tonight.

"Stormy, why don't you show them one of your tricks?"

He stood and pointed to a large, black kettle over a smaller campfire. "Watch carefully."  Squinting, he stared at the steaming pot.  The shiny, steel spoon started to rattle.  Slowly it rose, spinning faster and faster.  Then he looked away, and it fell back in place, clanking against the pot's rim.

"Oooh, aaah!"  The enthralled children's eyes widened.

"Okay, it's your turn, Thoruk." Merciful motioned him to stand.

"Mine won't be flashy like Storm's stunt."  Chuckling, he rose.  "I need a volunteer."

Curulka's arm shot upward. "I'll do it!  Pleeease?"

"Alright — are you sure?  Come and stand next to Miss Mercivil."  When she reached the spot, he peered closely into Curulka's eyes.  After a few seconds, she dropped to her knees and began untying Mercivil's bootlaces.

Thoruk touched Curulka on the shoulder.  "Why are you doing that?"

Her face flushed.  "I don't know.  I just had the urge to do it."

Thoruk tried to comfort her.  "Hey, don't worry.  That was me encouraging you to do it through our minds."  He focused on the audience.  "You saw how powerful this can be, but it could be dangerous in the wrong hands."

As Thoruk sat down, a sentry whispered in his ear.  He gazed at Mercivil and smiled.  "Now it's your turn, Mercy."

She gazed at her trusty pet as two youngsters rested on her guardian's stomach again.  "Fluf."  The bear lifted her snout as Mercivil stared at her.  Suddenly, the beastly pillow rolled away, leaving both kids lying flat on the ground.

"Stunning!  How did you do that?" asked the little campers.

"I can communicate with some animals on a basic level if I can maintain eye contact long enough.  Intellulka not only taught us how to practice our skills but also the importance of protecting them from misuse.  You'll likely never see us use such powers again, unless there's extreme danger which can't be handled by normal human means."

Mercivil stood and glanced at everybody to make sure they appeared comfortable.  "Now that we've entertained you, let's get back to the story.  I think you'll find what remains to be quite interesting.

"On a cool autumn day, when I was 13 and my two buddies were 15, we became blood siblings here by the Lake of Dreams.  Each of us used our own knives to slice small crosses above the upper side of our wrists, just enough to share our blood.  We smeared our cuts together and declared ourselves devoted friends forever.

"Dedicating our lives to help others, we pledged to work and fight, shoulder-to-shoulder when needed against our enemies.  With our covenant, we vowed not to tolerate bullies or criminals and to put an end to any aggression."

"See, here's my blood cross."  She pulled up her sleeve and showed them.  Thoruk and Stormulka did likewise.

"Wow!"  Excited murmurs filled the air as the kids scooted closer for a better look.

Mercivil continued.  "Shortly afterward, we received our defensive training from the famous Master of Arms, Protuk, renowned across the Resourcelands for his prowess, strategy, and mastery of weapons."  Mercivil pointed to Protuk describing the art of carving to a group of teenagers.

He stood and took a bow.  "Thank you, Miss Mercivil, but I'm just a humble servant, truly."

Mercivil raised her hands.  "Let me assure you that Protuk is much more than a humble servant.  He's a little shy when someone brags about our favorite village protector.

"You may not know, but Protuk slew four Skalag warriors who ambushed him while he was hiking alone one summer day.  Word traveled fast and few dared to challenge him after that!  We are fortunate to have learned from the best.  We all love him dearly, don't we?"

She lifted her arms higher and led the cheer.  "Protuk, Protuk."  The children cupped their hand around their mouths, chanting.  "PROTUK, PROTUK!"

Rising once again, he bowed.  "Thank you."

With a sly grin directed toward Mercivil, Curulka blurted.  "Do you love Thoruk?"

She paused.  "Yes, of course I do; but not in the manner you're thinking.  I love Thoruk and Stormy with all my heart — like brothers.  Well, on that note, it's time for us to get a good rest."

The youngsters frowned.  "Awww."

Mercivil yawned.  "Come on now.  It's been a long day filled with lots of fun.  I'm tired, and you must be too.  Get ready and into your sleeping bags, and I'll sing a song to help you fall sleep."

Mercivil sang a delightful lullaby she learned from her mother.  Noticing the campers nod off one by one, her voice became softer and softer until all were still by the slowly-dying bonfire.  She checked the logs, comfortable the big chunks of glowing, orange embers would provide warmth through the night.

Quietly rising, Thoruk whispered in Mercivil's ear.  "The earlier disturbance was just a bobcat killing a crane.  Nothing to worry about.  Wolfuk and the sentries will watch over you and the kids.  Protuk and I are heading home."  Mercivil smiled, understanding they had important battle preparations to deal with that evening.  While walking off, he glanced back at her.

She waved.  Looking across the peaceful lumps tucked under covers, Mercivil laid her head on her pillow with a heavy heart. 
The children have no clue.  Tonight's slumber could be one of the last restful sleeps for quite some time.

Thursday
~
August 15, 2075
~
8:30 pm

While Ukkiville's youngsters enjoyed themselves by the bonfire, Zolokt anxiously awaited an ally three miles north of his encampment.  Marked by a grotesque scar across the forehead that easily distinguished him from all Skalag men who traditionally shaved their heads, he paced back and forth.

His son, Scientokt, and daughter, Angrokt, stood nearby to share in the discussion of the battle against Thoruk and his villagers.  Two Skalag scouts clothed in smudged and sweaty garments kept watch at the clearing's edge in the woods.

With steely killer eyes, Zolokt glared at Scientokt, a scrawny stick of a young man with pale skin.  Still enraged by his son's artificially-contrived tornado which killed several muclones and clan members a month earlier, he snarled.  "Did you solve your problem yet?"

The discouraged scientist refused to look his father in the eye.  "I've been working day and night, but the environmental controls are still far too crude and unpredictable."

"You're running out of time.  Fix it!  We will not delay the attack.  You'll either be with us or you won't."

Adorned with menacing war paint that extended across her brow and down her arms, Angrokt motioned to the clearing's other side.  "There they are."

With his only surviving offspring next to him, Zolokt pivoted and walked in the direction of the allied marauders.  When he neared, he extended his hand to his cousin, the Scargile's chief.  Gunkoft, a thick-built, rugged man with a jagged scar across his left cheek, grabbed Zolokt's arm just below the elbow, locking grips.

Zolokt tilted his head toward the young warriors in their mid-twenties beside him.  "You've met my son and daughter before."

Gunkoft, wearing scraggly, shoulder-length hair and scruffy beard of his clan, nodded.  He pointed to two of his men and spoke with a deep, booming voice.  "These are my lieutenants."  He smiled at another young, muscular man beside him.  "This is my son, Spurnoft.  All three have participated in my plans."

The Scargile leader faced Zolokt.  "I heard you lost several men and muclones recently.  Horrible timing."

"Yes, it was."  Zolokt focused his perpetual scowl on Scientokt.  "The problem will be fixed by the time we march."

Like many leaders filled with distrust, Gunkoft grunted.  "It better be!  I don't want any experiments killing my fighters on the battlefield.  The risks are high enough.  There are also rumors Ukkiville has found some of your creatures."

"That's right, but they were intentionally released to instill fear in our enemy ahead of time.  Ukkiville's villagers have discovered seven or eight, but a couple remain, and there will be plenty for the battle.  In five weeks, I should have more medium-sized muclones and will train a few large ones.  When we attack, we'll have enough."

Zolokt's eyes shifted to the side. 
I hate defending myself to him.  I can't fathom what the Scargiles see in my cousin.  He's not fit to be a leader.  And my son — he fails me every chance he gets!

Zolokt pointed at his two sentries.  "Let's go over there and talk."

When they arrived at the grassy spot, everybody sat on the ground except Zolokt, who stood with his arms folded.  "The reason we're here is to discuss our plans for the battle.  It's time to escalate our advances on Ukkiville.  Droughts these past four years have depleted our stockpiles."

He began flailing his arms in jerky bursts as he talked.  "Raids in recent months were lean.  Neighboring villages are having trouble harvesting good crops, and the tough conditions mean traders aren't paying much for slaves.

"Ukkiville is the best choice for stealing grains, other food, and needed supplies.  They've had more rain, and their farming techniques are better than most."

Zolokt furrowed his brow.  "It's no secret I hate Thoruk and his villagers.  They're responsible for my brother's and nephew's deaths.  Now that Odinuk is out of the way, his son is next.  We will kill Thoruk and take his village."

Looking at Gunkoft, he continued.  "As agreed before, the spoils will be split among our clans.  Captors to be turned into slaves will be divided evenly.  Weapons: two thirds to Scargiles, one third to Skalags.  Two thirds of the food go to you, a third to us.  My clan and I will occupy the village once we've eradicated everyone in Ukkiville."

He glanced at the Scargile commander, who nodded.  Zolokt squatted, while maintaining eye contact with his counterpart.  "What is your latest weapons count?"

Gunkoft turned to a lieutenant who spoke with a raspy voice.  "We have 50 rifles, two catapults, and two cannons."  The Scargile ruler surveyed the Skalags.  "And you, what do you have?"

Zolokt rubbed his chin.  "We use primitive weapons but no firearms.  Our lack of firepower will be compensated for by muclones.  When we march on Ukkiville, we'll have a dozen or more medium-sized creatures and four large mutant destroyers, big enough to damage the wall."

Speaking with a voice tinged in anger, he glowered at Scientokt.  "My son will also control atmospheric conditions as part of the assault.  He will fix his mistakes."

Clenching his fists, Scientokt reluctantly nodded.

Gunkoft stiffened his back.  "I have a suggestion."

Zolokt cocked his head.  "Go ahead."

"My scouts report a number of tall pines in firing range of the village.  I'd like to place snipers in those trees to initiate the attack by taking out as many sentries atop the wall as possible.  They would remain in position to fire at any movement or Ukkiville warriors who venture beyond their protection."

"Good idea.  What else?"

"The wall is the biggest part of their defense.  Not much exists outside their perimeter.  It may be wise to send your large muclones ahead of our platoons.  They could be used to penetrate the wall or drawbridge.

"We need an opening to gain access."  He glared at Zolokt.  "But whatever you do, keep those creatures away from my people!  They are scared of those monsters.  We cannot afford a panic, especially given the losses in people and muclones you've already incurred."

Zolokt glanced in Scientokt's direction, but his son stared at the ground and wouldn't raise his head. 
He will never be a leader; he can't even look at me.  Angrokt will rule the clan — one day.

Gunkoft rose to his knees.  "Let's talk timing.  It's late summer, and in less than two months snow will fall.  We must attack before then.  We shouldn't wait any longer than that."

Scientokt finally mustered enough courage and blurted.  "It can't be later anyway.  My atmospheric effects will be less powerful as the temperatures cool.  We've only got an eight-week window."

Getting to his feet, Zolokt looked around the group.  "Then let's attack seven weeks from today.  Agreed?"

Everybody nodded.

Wearing her long, black hair in a tight side-knot snug against her partly-shaved skull, Angrokt lifted her chin.  "Father, I have something to add."

He motioned with his hand.  "Come here beside me."

She got up and stood next to her father, pointing toward their encampment.  "I propose we join our forces in the meadow south of our camp, four days before the strike.  Once gathered, we should take Devil's Pass through the Eric the Red Mountains.  It's not as direct, but the elevation is lower than Glacier Pass.  The reptilian muclones will have trouble in the colder elevations along the higher trail."

Gunkoft shook his head.  "Makes sense for our fighters, but not for the cannons and catapults.  They're too heavy to lug over the pass."

She turned to him.  "That's not a problem.  There's a usable road around the base of Caribou Mount.  It's curvy and much further to travel, but flatter and easier to maneuver.  We also have cages, wagons, and chariots we'll need to send on that route.  Your men and ours with heavy equipment could set out the day before the rest of us."

"Works for me."

A rustling noise in the trees pierced the air.  The group went silent.  Zolokt whirled to one of his warriors, Tropokt, and jerked his head.

The stout Skalag jumped to his feet and sprinted toward the disruption.  He ran about 30 yards into the woods and spotted a man hiding behind a thicket.  He drew his sword and slowly approached.  The intruder raised his finger to his lips, motioning to be quiet.  The warrior gawked, scrunching his face. 
Foxuk?

Gritting his teeth, he whispered.  "What are you doing here?  You trying to get us killed!"  Tropokt grabbed a rock.  "When I throw this, get out of here quietly.  Go!"  He threw the stone across fallen leaves 15 yards away, making more rustling noises.  Taking a deep breath, Tropokt returned to the meeting.

Zolokt stood, awaiting his report.  "What did you find?"

"Just a buck.  It scattered after I spooked it."  Tropokt pointed in the direction he flung the rock.

Zolokt squatted again.  "We shouldn't stay in the open much longer.  Let's finish this discussion."

"Father."  Angrokt straightened her shoulders.  "I'm sure you're aware of the rumor — that Ukkiville has a secret weapon which can kill hundreds in seconds.  Isn't that one of the reasons we haven't used firearms?  The fear of escalating our fights to a point where they take advantage of their weapon?"

"Nonsense!  Misguided rumors!  I may have thought so at one time, but we've seen no evidence of such a thing during our raids.  I don't want to hurt them.  I want to destroy them!  If we control that portion of the territory, we would have far better resources, and I could eliminate the Uke family for good."

After talking another 15 minutes, Zolokt surveyed those present.  "Are we in agreement with the plan?"

Everyone nodded.

Zolokt bared his teeth.  "The battle is on!"