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Daro

The boy drew in a rattling breath as blood dripped from his lips, running down his face to mix with the sand, leaving a dark stain that grew slowly around his head. And then he coughed weakly, spraying spit and gore across Daro’s lap as the man cradled him in his arms. Moen glanced up at Daro, moving his lips, but no words came out. “Hush. Save your strength.” Daro murmured. “Shaman will be here soon.” Moen nodded, and closed his eyes.

“Dad! What happened?” Shara rushed to his side.

Thank the spirits. “Here.” Daro said, lowering the boy to the ground, leaving a crimson stain on his clothes. “Comfort him. Don’t let him get up.” Shara nodded, and extended a trembling hand to brush Moen’s hair away from his face.

Scrambling to his feet, Daro glanced around wildly – Shaman was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he is inside. He rushed past the half-bent door, and into the darkness. “Shaman?” he yelled.

“He’s not here!” Oola appeared out of the gloom. “I just checked.”

Outside, he heard an angry shout, loud and deep. He glanced at Oola. “Stay here.” He said, and rushed back outside.

“Daro!” A man roared, fear and anger mixed in equal measure. Daro didn’t have to recognize the voice to know that it was the boy’s father. He paused at the entrance, still in shadow. With a deep breath, he stepped out into the sunlight. “I am here.”

Murg turned on him. “You! You have killed my son.” Murg was the tallest man in the tribe, strong and savage; the best hunter Daro had ever seen.

Daro raised his hands defensively. “No. It was an accident. He fell.”

Murg shook his head violently. “He was in your care. Doing your work.” He jabbed a finger at Daro’s chest, circling around Moen and Shara. “You killed him.” He lunged at the smaller man, and Daro stumbled backwards, as two of Murg’s companions grabbed his arms, holding him back.

“It was an accident. I told him to stop, and he didn’t listen! I’m sorry!” Daro kept backing away, but now there was a circle of people surrounding them and he had nowhere to run.

Murg lunged at Daro again, hands outstretched, strong, calloused fingers driving for Daro’s face. Daro’s feet got tangled together as he tried to dodge away, and he landed hard on the ground, Murg’s huge hands around his neck. Daro punched and kicked at the larger man as the thick fingers dug into his neck, but he might as well been punching a boulder for all the good it did him. Black and white spots started to twitch and dance in his eyes, as he grabbed feebly at Murg’s wrists, trying to pull them away.

“Get off of him.” Shara appeared, leaping on Murg’s back, pounding at the back of his head, but Murg was focused on his prey. The world darkened around Daro, fading away until all he could see was the glittering malice in Murg’s eyes, and one last thought crossed his mind. Wouldn’t I do the same for Kito, or Shara?

Daro’s hands fell away, flopping to the ground as blood began pouring on his face.

Murg screamed in rage as Shara’s teeth closed around his ear, and for just a moment he let go, long enough to rip the girl off of his back, throwing her into the crowd.

Snarling, Daro punched the man in the face three times, smashing his nose before Murg caught his hands, twisting his arm slowly until a thin cry escaped his lips.

“Murg. Get up! Get off of him! Now!” Only one person commanded that kind of obedience.

The grip loosened and the hands pulled away. Daro gasped for air, pain already filling the back of his head.

Roggo shoved Murg away from Daro. “What is going on?”

Murg wiped the blood from of his chin, breathing heavily. “He killed my son.”

“No!” Daro rasped, his throat burning. “He fell.”

Roggo turned and scanned the crowd. “Where is Shaman?”

The crowd parted, and Shaman hobbled into the circle, kneeling next to the boy. The three men stood together as Shaman placed a palm on the boy’s chest, and carefully inspected the back of his head. The old man looked up, his face grim. “He is not dead yet.” There was a sigh of relief from everyone in the circle.

“But he will never be the same if he lives.”

“I demand a Council. Tonight!” Murg said, punching his fists together. Daro wobbled woozily, fighting to keep his balance, his head and neck singing in pain, but Moen didn’t even seem to notice the two trails of blood spilling onto his shirt.

Roggo frowned. “We can’t have a council tonight. Tonight is Starfall.”

“No. Hold the Council first.”

Roggo paused, and then turned to Shaman. “What do you think?”

Shaman paused for a moment, and then stared at Daro, a strange look on his face. “I think we can do both. Send the older children up to the top with the supplies. When we are done with the council, we can join them and complete the celebration.”

Roggo’s eyes widened, and then he blinked. “Don’t you think the spirits will be angry if we don’t perform the celebration as we have in the past?”

Shaman shook his head. “The star that fell this afternoon shows that they are already angry. There is disobedience in the Clan, disobedience that must be driven out if we are to prevent another Great Winter.”

Roggo gritted his teeth. He glanced over at Daro, still wheezing, and shook his head. “Very well. We will have a Council tonight. Tell all of the adults of the tribe to return here at sunset.” And then he looked at Murg. “Nothing will be done until then. Understood?”

Murg hesitated, staring at Daro. “Understood?” Roggo repeated. Murg nodded, his eyes still locked onto Daro’s, a venemous look in his eyes.

“Help me get him inside.” Shaman said, and Murg lifted his son gently in his arms, edging past the door into the cave.

“Dad.” Shara whispered. “Are you ok?” He reached out a hand, resting it on her shoulder, nodding gingerly as the back of his head throbbed. “Thank you.” He said, quietly.

“Armis” Roggo called. The young man was at his side in a moment. “Yes, Father?”

Roggo grabbed him by the shoulder affectionately. “I need you to take the supplies up to the top of Guardian mountain. Do it right away, there is no time to spare. Make sure you have everything – the food, the water and the weapons. Whichever of the children can carry something should be brought along. We do not want to risk the spirit’s wrath with a poor celebration.”

Armis nodded, stonefaced. “Very well.” He turned to go.

Roggo grabbed him again, and spun him around. “Look at me. Are you upset to miss the Council?”

Armis gritted his teeth “It is fine. I will attend another one in the future.” He turned away again, his eyes meeting Daro’s as he walked past, frustration written across his face. “Shara. I’ll need your help.”

Shara glanced at her father. “Do you want me to stay with you?” She asked.

Yes. “No. Go ahead. This is your special night. We’ll be along later.” He said, kissing her gently on the forehead. “I need to find your mother.”

She nodded, and looked up at the sky. “This is when Lara naps. She is probably in the cave.” He nodded and started towards the entrance, and she limped towards Armis. He started to ask her what happened, but snapped his mouth shut. He could ask about it later. Right now, he needed to find Shena.

And with that, he slid past the partially hung doors into the dimness of the cave.

The doors blocked much of the light that came into the cave, making it even harder to see. One of the unexpected flaws of his door. Oh well. It won’t be my problem any more after tonight.

“Shena?” he said as he shuffled into their cave. “Wake up.” She opened her eyes, a smile playing across her lips as Lara lay nestled against her chest. And then seeing his expression, her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

Grimly, he recounted the situation, his throat burning anew by the time he was done. “Shaman is going to use this accident to banish us.”

She clutched her daughter close. “What about Lara?”

He smiled briefly. “Because she is still nursing, she will be allowed to stay with us. Shara becomes an adult today, and will make her own choice.”

“And Kito?”

He looked down at the ground. “If Moen dies, Murg will claim our eldest son as his own.”

“What? No. That brute will crush Kito’s spirit. I will not let him beat my little boy.”

He shook his head, dread eating at his stomach. “There isn’t anything we can do about it. This is our way.”

She shivered, her face pale. “This is a terrible custom. In my tribe, this would be handled much differently.” She covered her face with her hands, sobbing. ”I won’t let them take him away.”

Daro knelt down next to her, stroking her hair. “I’m sorry. We don’t have a choice.”

“No!” She hissed, pushing his hands away. “I don’t care what your custom is. If we have to leave, fine, let’s go, but let’s take him with us. Let’s go now.”

Daro pursed his lips. That wasn’t a bad idea. It was doubtful that anyone would be excited at the idea of forcing a boy of… he fumbled with his fingers… thirteen years into a new family. But then, this was his home, his friends, his teachers. Which would Kito prefer? “Let the spirits decide. Armis is taking many of the older children with him to the top of Guardian mountain. If Kito stays behind, we will ask him to come with us.”

She stared at him for a moment. “I brought this on our family, didn’t I?” Daro shook his head helplessly. “Even if you hadn’t used the song, I still might have been banished. Even if Moen hadn’t fallen, Shaman might have pushed to banish you. The spirits are full of tricks that make the dangerous paths seem easy, and the easy paths appear perilous.”

He stood up, as much as he could in the low cave, and glanced at the walls, lit dimly by a nearby torch. The children had drawn pictures on the walls, pictures of buffalo, and deer and birds. They had lived in this cave for a long time. It would not be an easy thing to leave behind.

“I must go prepare for our trip.” Scooping up an empty pack, he stepped back out into the tunnel. A shadow appeared from a side cave, towering over him. “Murg, I–”

“You hurt my little brother.” it was a different voice, a little higher, much younger. “I will have revenge.”

Daro stared sourly at the tall youth. “Barak, you may become a man tonight, but until then, you are just a boy. So keep your mouth shut.” Barak snorted, and melted back into the shadows.

Further back along the tunnel they kept a cave with potatoes and carrots and smoked strips of meat. He started to load the bag with food, but immediately realized that this was foolish. If he and Shena were banished, she could make all the food they needed. So he took just a little, and a skin of water. What they would truly need were weapons to protect themselves from the wolves. Spears, knives and flints enough to make more.

Well, flints he had in plenty – he was the weapons maker after all. And they would certainly not deny him a spear, even as an outcast. “I think we have enough supplies, then.” He said to himself, and he turned to go.

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

Daro stared at his son for a moment. Short, dark hair, small of frame, quick to laugh. “Just getting some water for your mother. She is tired”

The boy frowned. “I heard about the Council. Armis asked me to help bring supplies to the top of Guardian mountain for Starfall.” He paused. “Is – Is that okay?”

Daro’s face fell. “Kito, where would you rather be? Up there witnessing Starfall, or down here in the cave while the grownups discuss things outside?”

“I guess I would rather help with the Starfall preparations. My friends are all going.”

Daro forced a smile, rigid and uncomfortable, and clapped his son awkwardly on the shoulder. “I think it is best that you stay with them, then. Have a good time.”

“Thanks.” Kito shuffled past his father, into the food cave.

Daro stood outside, staring at his son, his eyes filling with tears. “Kito?”

“Yes?”

“You are a good son, and you will make a good man someday. Your mother and I will always be proud of you.”

Kito bowed his head. “Thanks. You are a good father, too.”

“I love you.”

The boy smiled uncomfortably. “I love you too.”

If I stay here any longer, I will not be able to let him go. Daro forced himself to keep walking away. By the time he returned to his cave, his face was wet with tears.

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Wednesday, February 22nd, 2006 at 7:36 pm.
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