Tokus Numas (23 page)

The two worked together, back and forth, up and under the canvas until they had all the poles in place.

Night had descended, and the fire was roaring. It lit up much of the camp. The tent was up, firewood had been collected, and now it was time to gather around the fire. Everyone moved toward the flames, seeing Petro lead the way. He felt it, their eyes, how they watched, how they kept their attention on him to see what he was doing.
It’s strange to be looked at as a leader
, Petro thought. Maybe this was his destiny; maybe that was what he was supposed to do in this world, but inside he rejected it and didn’t know why.

Vetus Sepher stood near the fire; his dark eyes reflected the light. His face had a weathered, leathery look about it. It was hard and chiseled, like that of a stone carved by a sculptor’s hands.

“You’ve done well.” He paused, looking at each one of them. “Tonight is not just about preparing for your hunt tomorrow; tonight is about moving beyond yourself and into a new person, forged by what our Father has given us. All of you are sons of a kind, gentle father, one who is strong and willful and holds your hearts. It is something many men miss as they move along in this world; they miss what God has for them. They go about their lives, their heads down, their work in front of them, and they never look up to see Him. He loves you, and He’s offering to walk with you every step of the way on your journey. Some of you will face opposition like nothing you’ve seen before; some of you will not face any opposition but will find your lives a struggle because there are no real enemies to face. Do not be fooled; do not see yourselves as being alone, for if you are alone, reach out to a brother, open up your heart, and let him help you. Your Father knows you cannot go it alone, and that is why you have one another. It is a sacred bond you share, and tonight you will be given a name—not by me, not by your brothers, but by your Father. Go out into the woods, find a place where you can find solace, and seek out your name. It will come for most of you; and for some, it may not. Do not worry if it does not come; know that it is not time, and your Father will give you a name when he deems it right,” Vetus Sepher said. “Take with you a torch and cover yourselves with anthemis cotula, or dog fennel; together they should be enough to ward off the mosquitoes.”

They got up, took pieces of dog fennel from Vetus Sepher, and covered their faces, their hands, and their necks. Next they each took a torch and headed out, one by one, into the dark forest.

Petro looked ahead, making his way through the brush until he came to an opening. It was on higher ground and was not as wet as the rest of the area. There was a tree in the center with branches that drooped down; he pushed the branches away and found inside a natural shelter. He stuck the torch into the soft dirt and then sat down with his back against the tree. The orange ambient light danced around. He could hear the crickets singing and the frogs courting each other. What was he doing here? Why would God give him a name? How would he even know it came from God? He shook his head and played with the dirt, letting it run through is fingers. He didn’t know what to expect; even as much as he tried to think on it, he could not envision what he was set out to do. The Numas were different then everyone else, not perfect as some might believe, but different. They thought differently, saw life in a different light, and at times held nothing of value here on Spearca. What they valued came from somewhere, yet from nowhere, and was everywhere.

Petro took a deep breath and let it out.
It’s now or never
, he thought.
It won’t hurt to try
. He ran his fingertips across the ground and then closed his eyes. What was his name? What was he to be called? At first it seemed silly, and he opened his eyes. His shoulders slumped. There was a quiet voice inside that came from nowhere—was it his own? He opened his eyes, and the voice was gone. Petro sighed. He took dirt up in his hand and released it, watching it filter down to the ground.
This is silly
, he thought, but then he closed his eyes once more and listened, letting his body relax, taking in deep breaths and letting them out.

He thought about his mother and father; they were faceless to him. Tears came to his eyes. Why did they leave him? Didn’t they love him? More tears erupted, and he choked back what he could, afraid that others might hear him. He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and swatted at some nearby mosquitoes. Emotions overcame him, and he placed his hand on his forehead and knelt forward. It was deep within; his core contracted, and his soft cries came forth. It hurt. His face screwed up, tears poured out, and he could no longer hold them back. He continued to cry, letting it out, letting out all the pain, letting himself feel for the first time in a long time what had truly been there inside him all these years.
They abandoned me
, he thought.
They left me; they didn’t want me
.

“Mother!” he cried out. “Why? Why did you leave me?” Tears streamed down his face. “Father! Why didn’t you care?” He beat his fist into the dirt, cupped a large heap of it, and dropped it. He hit the ground again. “Why? I was your son, and you left me.” His breath was short and intense, his chest tight. “And now I’m nothing; I can’t do anything right. Can’t you help me? If I could only figure out how to use my ability, I could make a difference.” He wiped the tears from his eyes, leaving a trail of caked dirt.

He waited and waited, but no name came—no voice, nothing, only the emptiness he felt inside. Maybe it was just another test like before, but he didn’t know what Vetus Sepher was looking for. There was this pervading thought deep within that he felt close to it, close to God somehow; and he was certain he’d hear his given name, but it never came. Maybe it wasn’t meant to come, not tonight, like Vetus Sepher had said. It was getting late, and he’d been out here for a while now, and they needed to get back to their tents and get ready for their hunt. Morning would come early. He got up, brushed himself off, and paused a moment to see if he would hear God’s voice, but it was not there. Petro looked out into the darkened forest and headed back toward the camp.

When he got back, the mosquitoes were everywhere. The swarm would move out of the light of the torch, yet hover close by. His brothers were by the fire with plates of food in their laps. He extinguished his torch in a bucket of water and sat down next to the roaring fire. It was hot, almost too hot, but he was glad for it because it kept the mosquitoes at bay. “What is that?” He sniffed the air.

“It’s me; my stomach doesn’t agree with the food,” Jon said. The rest of group laughed.

Petro waved the stench from his face.

“Those are the torches. I soaked them in dog fennel. The rains were heavy this year,” Vetus Sepher said.

Petro looked at the torches then back to Jon, who was shaking his head, one eyebrow raised and slowly pointing at himself. The others stifled their laughter. Petro grinned to himself.

Kad handed Petro a plate of food.

“If you have your given name, do not share tonight; keep those to yourself for now. I want you to focus on two things. Tonight when you sleep, you may have dreams—pay attention to them. Take notes in the morning, capture what you can, and then look at them off and on to remind yourself of this night. The other is the task at hand. We hunt boars tomorrow, and they are dangerous. Be sure to check your gear and keep one another safe.” He took out a pipe and his tobacco pouch and stuck some of dried leaves into the pipe. He took a twig, placed into the flames, and then lit his pipe with it. The smoke rolled up in front of his face. “Finish up and get some rest. Make sure you know when you pull guard; there’s no reason for any of us to get ambushed out here.”

At that moment strange sounds came from the edge of forest around them. They all looked to see what it might be. Again, there it was; something was moving just outside the edge of the campfire’s light. Petro took a torch, lit it in the flames, and headed out toward the edge of camp. He held it high. The others did the same. There was a rush of feet stomping on leaves, and out of the bushes came a small herd of piglets that squealed and ran through the camp, bumping into things. One hit the pans, and they clanged loudly; another bumped into Jon’s legs and sent him tumbling. They tore through the camp and then were gone into the dark woods.

Vetus Sepher stood with his nickel-plated .44. “
Sus scrofa
. It means wild pig. The sows are likely nearby, but they won’t come into the light.”

Petro heard his words but saw the weapon in Vetus Sepher’s hand. Maybe what he said was true, but there was doubt.

They went back to the camp and finished up their food. Vetus Sepher finished his smoke, got up, and stretched out his arms wide.

“Clean up and get the food put away, or they’ll be back,” Vetus Sepher said.

They all got up and went back to work, cleaning up the site. Petro came over to Sha, who was picking up pans. He put the torch out in a bucket of water; it sizzled.

“Here, let me help you,” Petro said.

Sha gave him a dirty look, “I don’t need your help.”

Petro pondered what to say. “You’re acting like a
Sus scrofa
,” he said with a smile, hoping the jab would put Sha at ease, as guys do at times. Petro heard Kad laugh from over by the tent, hauling their things into it.

Sha scoffed. “Why don’t you take your pathetic self away from me and go help someone who needs it?”

He saw in Sha’s eyes contempt, how they locked on him like he was about to attack. Petro burned inside. Sha had nearly been the reason they didn’t pass their test; they wouldn’t be here if Petro hadn’t gone into Sha’s pack and taken the mike.

Sha shifted slightly at an angle and held a spoon in his hand. His knuckles were white where he gripped it hard.

Petro was done trying tonight; he stooped down on his haunches and put his hands up next to the flames, taking in their warmth. “You should watch what you say, Sha.”

Sha threw the spoon at Petro’s head, and it hit him square on the bridge of his nose. “Ouch!” Petro exclaimed and rubbed his nose. He jumped at Sha and tackled him. Petro was on top of Sha. He caught him on the chin, and then suddenly he was yanked into the air and thrown over the fire pit. Petro could see the tripod, the steaming water, and the flickering flames as he soared through the air. He hit the ground with a thud, rolled to a stop, and got to his feet with some effort. He could see the back of Vetus Sepher.

“You two need to steer clear of each other,” Vetus Sepher snarled. “Guard duty, double shift. Understand?”

Petro nodded, and Sha did the same. Jon, Nalum, Kad, and Bran were wide-eyed as they went back to their duties. Vetus Sepher swept the area with an imposing glare. Tonight the brothers would need to try to remember their dreams and to be ready for the coming hunt in the morning.

Live life full of promise and hope, and you will never be without disappointment.

—From
Book of Fools
, by Foolish Thinkers of Spearca

A
ll the supplies from the wagon were locked up, and the food had been hoisted up into trees to keep it out of reach of bears, wolves, or wild piglets. Petro had made his rounds in the middle of the night, which consisted of walking the perimeter, checking the food stores, looking over the horses, and ensuring that no one had tampered with the armory chest. He had pulled first watch, which lasted for two hours instead of one, due to having had the fight with Sha. When he had finished his watch, he woke Jon for his turn.

Petro was groggy and ready for some sleep, and as Jon was getting ready, Petro went to lie down. A sound came from the wagon, but he figured the creaking was from a passing breeze. When sleep did finally come, he woke, but he was not in his tent or bed—he was in a dream. He was out in the woods, deep where he’d never been, sitting on the cool forest floor. Petro had gotten up and walked around barefoot. He felt the soft, cool ground, the tiny prickling of broken branches, old bark, and roots. The soft silken touch of pine needles caressed the bottom of his soles and arches.

Something drew him out into the forest. He searched for what it might be but could not find it. A crow cawed overhead; he looked up but it was nowhere to be seen. A rustle in the bushes came from behind him, and he turned to see a white stag; it was majestic, strong, and proud-looking. He gasped at the sight and felt excitement run through him. In one hand was a white bow, and in the other was a blue arrow. Bewildered and unsure, he took the arrow, notched it, and pulled the string back. His heart quickened, and his hands shook as he raised the bow and pointed the arrow at the white stag. He knew this was not entirely real, but it felt real, and the stag in front of him—what did it mean? His eyes widened when the stag raised its head and looked directly at him. Now there was a second heartbeat in his chest, strong and steady. It was the stag’s heart, and it was beating more slowly than his, as if it were not afraid of him or anything. Petro lowered the bow, still unsure of what he was supposed to do. Shoot it? He didn’t want to shoot it; he wanted to know what all this meant. The stag turned, and Petro watched as the powerful animal walked into the forest, disappearing from sight.

The ground began to shake, and the trees started to sway back and forth. Petro looked around, and the forest vanished—it went dark, utterly black with no light, and then there was a faint light. His eyelids cracked opened to see Kad smiling. He felt his cot shake, and he turned over, pulling his sleeping bag up around his shoulders.

“Time to get up,” Kad said, shaking his cot again.

Petro didn’t move. He closed his eyes but then felt the cot shaking more vigorously. Then it tipped over, throwing him out onto the soft ground. He stirred, stretched, and felt how his muscles ached. His nose still hurt from last night, and he was still exhausted. While he lay there, he tried to remember his dreams. Vetus Sepher had said to pay attention to dreams this night. He did, and everything seemed out of place, like the world had shifted, and he was no longer in the world he knew but in a world that resembled the world he had been.

“Time to get up.” Vetus Sepher’s voice entered the tent. Petro raised his head up and over the cot to see him exit.

“Why are you dumping me out of my own cot?” Petro asked, scratching his head and then his chin and working his way around to rubbing his eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” Kad said. His lips formed a thin line that turned up at the corners. He pointed toward the exit. “I was gonna push you over, but Vetus Sepher beat me to it.” He winked.

Petro pushed himself up off the ground, righted his cot, and then threw his pillow at Kad’s face. It hit, and Kad turned away suddenly. “Sorry, I…I didn’t mean to,” Petro said as he reached for Kad’s arm and pulled him around.

Kad turned around, and his face with covered with the matted fur of some animal. “Ahh!” Petro jumped back. Everyone in the tent laughed. “Scared the crap out of me, you don-go head,” Petro said, shaking his head. “Where’d you find that ol’ thing?”

Kad’s voice was muffled, and it was hard to understand a word he was saying through the mask. He pulled it off and took a deep breath. “That’s better. I found it a few weeks ago, just a dead raccoon on the road. I skinned it, took my knife, and made three holes in it—see?” Kad put his two fingers and thumb through the openings for the eyes and mouth.

Petro raised an eyebrow. “When the girls, you know, find out about your skills and this beautiful mask you’ve made, I mean…”

“Ah, shut up. I don’t want to hear it,” Kad said, throwing the matted mask at Petro.

Petro picked it up, using the tip of his finger, acting like it was somehow contaminated. He sniffed it. “Whew!” He held it far away from his body. “Did you find it rotting?” Almost everyone laughed except for Sha, who was off in his own world in the corner of the tent, hidden in the shadows. Kad snatched the mask from Petro’s hand and stuffed it into a bag. “You sure you want that in there? You know, with all your clothes?” Petro said with a huge grin.

“Come on, we’ve got to get moving. Wouldn’t want to keep Vetus Sepher waiting, would we?” Kad said.

Petro chuckled.

“If we don’t get moving, Vetus Sepher just might come back in here and throw us all out the of tent,” Jon said. The tent erupted into laughter. Even Sha cracked a smile.

“Yeah, like he did to Petro last night,” he said.

Everyone went quiet and glared at Sha. “What?” he stammered and then looked at Petro. “Serves you right,” Sha said. The group looked at him with disbelief.

Petro kept quiet. He didn’t want to make more trouble. He had been trying to amend things with Sha after the mountain, but it went awry, though fights did bring brothers together—like when Jon and Nalum went at each other over a piece of bread. Oh, there was plenty more sitting on the table right in front of the two. But Jon had to have that one piece after Nalum had put his hands on it, and when Jon wouldn’t let go, and Nalum bent forward and licked the bread, it was on. Fists were flying, food was flying, and bodies were flying. The two were better friends now, even closer. Petro wished Sha could be like that and just let it go, seeing this as a settled matter between them.

The group went back to the business of getting dressed, leaving Sha to say whatever he wanted to say.

Kad pulled on his boots, stood, tucked in his shirt, and zipped his pants up.

Vetus Sepher’s voice carried into the tent. “Stop mucking around.”

The brothers straightened up, but not Sha. His face was red, but before he could open his mouth, Jon stepped over to him and placed his hand on Sha’s shoulder. “Come on, brother. We’ve got to go. We need to get outside. Remember, we are handing out the weapons.” Jon was subtle and could easily disarm any one of them, even Sha. Jon went out of the tent, and Sha followed him.

Outside, lit torches staved off the darkness. It felt to Petro like they were somehow alone in this aura of light, and what lurked out there in the night was held at bay. He filed in behind Kad, waiting to receive his weapon. With Sha’s help, Jon brought out the weapons cache, opened the chest, and handed out shotguns, blue-steel ironshots, and bows. The ironshots were a sight, even the blue-steel ones, but when the year of choosing came, they would receive a nickel-plated ironshot with their chosen name engraved into it. Kad took his bow and a quiver of arrows, which was an honor as the bow was considered the chosen weapon of God. The arrows were razor tipped and meant only for flesh-and-blood targets, not fake ones like the keeldreer at the Numa induction ceremony. Jon also received a bow. Kad and Jon had been excellent hunters with the bow in their villages. Jon had started shooting small game at the age of ten, but when he turned twelve, he took his first deerling. It was from twenty-five meters, a terrific shot in an open cornfield. Kad started when he was twelve but learned the bow quickly. He was shooting targets in their backyard from well over thirty meters, and on his first hunt, he took down a deerling and several rabbits. The two boys had only hunted with bows since then, which was a choice weapon, both quiet and deadly. Jon and Kad would be paired up with one of the others who carried a shotgun, but they would be given the honor to shoot first.

Vetus Sepher sat on a log, holding up his nickel-plated ironshot. It was a powerful pistol, a weapon designed centuries ago. It held six shots and was a double-action revolver. “You see this? This is not for hunting. What you hold in your hands now is. The ironshot is for protection, a means of last resort. It will do the job and kill a boar, a bear, a wolf, or lion, that is certain; but I stress that it should only be used in an emergency. The reason is that what you hold in your hands has greater range; you should know that. And this here,” he said, holding the ironshot up high, “is for close range. If a predator happens to run up on you, shoot it as many times as you can with this gun. All six shots.” He took a torch and held it out in front of him. “These boars you’re after are mean, aggressive, and are known to travel in packs, but the big boars, the males, almost always travel by themselves; and if they see you, they will charge. So be sure to get off the first shot right away. If that fails, like I said, fire your ironshot until it’s empty.”

Petro imagined what it would be like to have a large wild boar barreling down on him and having to take his ironshot and put six rounds into it. Would it be enough? “Have you ever killed a boar with that gun?” he asked.

Vetus Sepher looked at his nickel-plated weapon and sheathed it. “No, but I’ve killed many other things with it.”

Each of them checked himself over: knife, weapon, compass, water, ammo, and map. Next they paired up: Jon and Bran, Nalum and Sha, Petro and Kad.

“Remember to be back here before dusk. I don’t want any of you getting lost. If you do, just stay put until morning. We are here for three days. The first kill we will roast and have a feast,” Vetus Sepher said.

The brothers cheered, hooted, and jumped up and down with excitement, though there was a twinge of nervousness in them. Adrenaline filled their blood, quickened their hearts, and set them into a near frenzy. Each of them knew that out there was a
Sus scrofa
with a large snout, curling tusks, and a thick, short, bristly coat with a prominent ridge of hair along its spine. Danger was afoot, but they welcomed it, hungered for it, and were even willing to provoke it. They were no longer the boys they had been when they had come to Tokus Numas. They were men—young—but men nonetheless. This was their rite of passage, to show they had what it took, to show each other they were meant for a purpose, and to show they were warriors.

Petro gathered up a torch, lit it, and held it high in the air. They all looked at each other, eyes wide and energy high, and said the saying, “Be well, brother, be well, and don’t let this be our last farewell. We will come back together and will be with each other until the end of our days and our nights and until the final fight. Be well, my brother, be well.” They chanted and then headed out into the woods.