Dag shrugged, “Moon will be full in two days. Return then, if not before with good news.”
◆◆◆
Departure
Bren waved to all the people who had gathered down by the village to see him off. He, his three hunters, and Jill were going on this trek of exploration. Bren wasn’t a complete idiot. He saw how Jill looked at him, and honestly, if they stayed with Dag’s clan, he might encourage her. He found her fascinating, if a little on the young side to be considering for a mate.
He learned that not only was she a deadly shot with that bow, but she could do all of the things one expected a mate to know how to do. More than that, she could read and work numbers in a way that seemed like magic to him. It was almost as if she were born to be a chief’s wife. Best of all, she didn’t play the pouty games that some of the women of his own clan that were trying to snare him did. Dag seemed to think it was just a matter of time, but Bren thought her above such petty games. She was a woman who knew her worth, and didn’t feel compelled to compete with lesser women for attention. No matter what, she would not be ready to become a mate for years yet. Which Bren saw as her main failing, but she was teaching him about seeing farther into the future. Three to four years still seemed like a crazy amount of time, but she was quite remarkable.
Bren pushed these thoughts aside as he set off along the beach. One of his men pulled the small travois that carried their equipment, while Jill, with her bow kept watch. He would normally have found that an insane concept, but having seen her at work with the weapon with his own eyes, he did not have such reservations any longer. She was useless in a fight if someone was in close, but as long as she could slow something down long enough for his men to get into position... It didn’t take him long to understand how Dag had become such a formidable force. If he could even turn this little slip of a girl into an effective hunter, even on such a limited basis, he was truly an amazing leader.
Thinking on that, Bren wondered if he could give up being chief? Not for any other chief but his father, but Dag was unlike any other chief. Like his father, Dag saw to the needs of his people, and was wise beyond the reach of any of his clan, but unlike his father, Dag was wise beyond all other men. To use water to turn tools... that was beyond any shaman of any clan Bren had ever known. Could he serve such a chief, even if it meant not being chief himself? He didn’t know. He had as much pride as any man, but under which man’s leadership would his people be better? Bren snorted at himself for being foolish. He knew the answer to that, there was no comparison. So, he only had to ask himself if he could put his people before his pride?
It was not as easy an answer as he would have hoped that it was. Being chief was no small thing. Would he be a disgrace to his father if he gave it up? Did that really matter? His father was dead after all and left the clan in dire straights when he died.
He had been mulling these thoughts over for the majority of the day, when he heard Jill call out from behind him, “Jackals!”
He spun to see a small pack of giant jackals loping across the sands toward them. There were seven of the beasts and none of them less than mid thigh tall. He spun and ran back to his other hunters, where he formed them up in a protective ring around Jill.
For her part, Jill was already loosing arrows one right after the other. Leaving three of the seven bleeding out on the sand by the time the pack closed. He saw the hunter on his left skewer one on his spear as it leapt for his throat. His came in low and fast, going for his legs. Bren couldn’t bring his spear in to intercept it point on as the other had done, but he swept his spear like a two handed club and connected with the mongrel’s head. The creature let out a yip of pain and sprawled across the sand. His other two hunters had made non-fatal wounds in their animals as well.
As quick as they had come, they decided that they hadn’t really thought this attack through, and were making to retreat. Unfortunately for them, they had as far to run away as they had to come at them, and Jill sent three more arrows to put paid to their escape.
The hunter on his left who had killed his jackal, spun and looked at Jill with eyes wide, “By all the thunders of heaven! I killed one, and she got the rest!”
Jill beamed at him proudly. Bren felt himself laugh a bit nervously as the adrenaline bled out of him, “Think about that next time you anger her Rog.”
That brought laughs all around, including Rog. They loaded up the fallen Jackals and continued on. Dag had told Bren that he would likely find what he called ‘salt pans’ before the end of the day, and that it would be a good place to camp.
Exploration
Life On The Road
Bren stepped out of the tee-pee and into the pre-dawn gloom. The hunter who had taken last watch was tending to the fire and turning the jackal meat that had been roasting most of the night. “All quiet?” he asked.
The man grunted and gave him a snaggle-toothed grin, “Yeah. These people sure know how to live. That round tent is pretty damn comfortable. Even this far from their main camp, they have riches waiting for us. Convenient having the salt right here like that.”
Bren snorted a small laugh, “Well don’t get too used to it. We’re almost as far from their castle as they’ve come in this direction. From here on out, we’re back to living normal.”
Jill came out of the tent next yawning. “Can you two talk a little louder? Not everyone woke up yet.”
Bren smirked at her, “Well, it wasn’t like you needed your beauty sleep, anyway.”
Even tired and cranky, Jill felt her face blush. “Maybe I was worried about it for the rest of you?” she replied to laughs from both men. “Has all the meat been cooked up?”
The hunter, turning spits over the fire nods, “Working on the last of them now. All the rest are packed in salt and on the contraption.”
Jill shook her head, “It is called a travois, and isn’t it much easier than carrying everything on your back? Especially when those jackals attacked?”
Again, both men grunted agreement. Bren walked over to the fire and tested the meat cooking there. “Almost good enough. We’ll eat this fresh stuff this morning. It will make our supplies last longer, and better to carry it in our stomach than on the travois.”
The banter had been loud enough to bring out the final two from the tent. A hot meal first thing in the morning was a bit of a luxury for them, so as soon as it was done roasting, they fell on it with gusto, eating in mostly silence until the last of the fresh meat was gone. Bren smirked at them as they sprawled by the fire. “Don’t get too comfortable. We still need to pack up, as I want to be on the move by first light.”
There was plenty of grumbling, but no real protest. Bren just turned away so that they wouldn’t see his smile. He understood their reluctance to spend all day traveling under the hot sun, when they had the tent right there, and meat to last themselves for a very long time, but their travel had a purpose. More of a purpose than just to find food. It wasn’t a completely alien concept for them, but it wasn’t the norm. He knew eventually the grumbling would be more real.
Too many of the older hunters wouldn’t understand getting up each day and moving when the campsite where they were wasn’t used up. To travel to the Gathering, they could understand. Each year they did that, and if they didn’t, they risked the area floods which could kill whole clans, but to travel just to have a look? That was probably going to require him to motivate them as he pushed out past a week.
Camp was struck by the time the sun had actually crested the horizon. Travel in the morning wasn’t bad, but after only a couple of hours, the heat had reasserted itself. While not attacked that day, they also found very little of interest besides sand, more sand, and yes, even more sand. What they didn’t find was fresh, drinkable, water. Soon they were rationing it.
This became the new normal for them for several days. As suspected, Bren did end up needing to resort to threats and eventually even a fist fight to keep the worst of them moving as they were commanded. Two of them considered ganging up on him, but eyeing little Jill with an arrow nocked and ready to back him up, decided that they didn’t object to travel all that much.
Long hot days with limited water, broken by cool nights with plenty of meat to eat, and a comfortable tent. Toward the end, even Jill was hoping that they would come to the halfway point on their water, forcing them to turn back. Sleeping rough with Bren had sounded very good when she was snug at home, but she was starting to get run down, and her legs hurt, and throat always seemed to be dry. Worst of all, the closest thing to a bath she had gotten, was a dip in the ocean that they all took place during the hottest part of the day.
◆◆◆
Discovery
Bren continued on, becoming very nervous as their water reached the midway point. Not willing to be deterred so easily, he decided to push on another full day, knowing it would mean two days without water if none were found. It was not a popular decision, but Bren wasn’t putting it up to a vote. He knew he needed to learn or find something valuable if he were to have any bargaining power with Dag.
Bren called a halt in the heat of the day and erected a shade. Each of them took turns bathing in the sea for the relief from the heat that it brought and then lay about in the shade for worst heat of the afternoon. It was a compromise to save on water if they did need to trek back with empty water skins. Traveling in the heat of the day always used up more water than traveling in the cool of the day and taking shelter from the noonday sun.
Just before evening on the last day that they could reasonably go with their available water, Dag saw a grove of trees pressed up against a cliff face. With the denseness of the vegetation, Dag was certain that water, if not on the surface, like just below and with in their grasp.
It was too dark to examine the area too closely by the time they pitched tent. Unlike the last couple of nights, wood here was plenty to suit their needs. The first night they built up a large fire, and left two to guard. It was their best option, at least it was given their over-all situation.
The night was noisy with beasts, but none of them seemed willing to find themselves againt the relatively large group of armed humans. So as morning dawned, Bren could see a small pool collecting at the base of the rock cliff. More importantly, he noticed that the rock from which it flowed was also different from the sandstone and high feldspar boulders that he saw washed out of the mountain glaciers. This stone was white, a little chalky, and he was pretty certain it was the limestone that Dag had descried for him. At least to Bren’s untrained eye. Now, of course, came the very hard question. How do I take enough to justify the length and expense of the trip?
One of his men looked at Bren like he had lost his mind when they were ordered to gather up the rocks and add them to the travois. “But they’re just rocks!” he had said in exasperation before he considered his words.
