Man’s First Army

The nights were warm and the days, summer time long, but rain fell steadily during the time Morad attempted to regroup their band. That wretched feeling of continual wetness when one had no tent to dry off in caused tempers to be short. This was not helped when all a hunter had to look forward to was a damp smoky fire and stringy meat of rodents. Few spears were left and those the Bonsigh dared not chance losing or damaging in the hunt for larger prey. In summer men expected juicy beef or even the occasional treat of a poker's meat. 1

Morad knew all this was affecting the normally bold men. He contemplated which was worse—the listlessness of some or the aggressiveness of others. He was growing tired of forcing combatants apart to prevent the violence that could cut their numbers by half. Already he sported several nasty bruises himself. 2

Along with the discomfort plaguing them, was the embarrassing knowledge that the largest hunting party ever to depart Cray had deteriorated into this wretched state of affairs. For those who continued to straggle into Morad's makeshift campsite found they were little better off than they had been on their own. So only the security of numbers kept them from abandoning his encampment.3

Then there was the situation of the lost boys, brothers or the sons of the sisters of his comrades. Though young Dorn was neither of these, still Morad felt the same guilt over his death. Boys died on the hunt, from sickness, from accidents, never had he heard of a man who deserted his charge and left him to the knives of his enemy. A hunter might be forced to dispatch a boy himself but never would he abandon him.4

Why had Kamen antagonized the wild men? Morad had returned from scouting, to discover the festivities in full swing. He'd been moving along the edge watching the show below. Not affected by the excitement and blood lust, he was the first to realize the DeDiann's intentions were to scale the rocky hillside. He yelled for Dorn to gather the other boys and head for the woods. Prepared to fight the DeDiann, over powering them by numbers alone, he fully expected they would shortly be the ones taking to their heels. For that was the logical assumption when you outnumbered your enemy three to one. 5

Only the rage in the wild men multiplied their strength and threw his people into a panic. That their first victim should be Kamen leaving the Bonsigh leaderless increased their confusion. Morad had been powerless to control his people's retreat. Though he'd screeched at them that the DeDiann were few, they had nearly trampled him, and he'd finally fled himself. They had deserted everything in their effort to escape the howling savages and now they were paying a heavy price.6

Morad watched several hunters skinning rodents and skewering them. Tough, stringy meat, he thought, but better then nothing. 7

Another hunter came and dropped down beside him. "You saw Kamen die?" The man only asked a question that was repeated many times by many men as if it might somehow change things.8

"As did others,” Morad answered. "The blond giant flung him from the ledge into the weapons of those waiting below. He could not have survived."9

"We should not have fled." The man rubbed at his forehead. "We were many more than the DeDiann. My small brother. . ." seemed to catch in his throat.10

"I saw no sign of Calan." Morad cut him short. "When the other boys ran for the woods . . ." Suddenly he found he couldn't speak the dreadful words again not even to the boy's brother. He shrugged and rose to add more fuel to the dimming fire. 11

"Bonsigh!" came the hail that announced others were entering the campsite. Morad turned towards the call expecting more bedraggled comrades to come staggering in. Then his eyes widened in surprise and a cry of disbelief burst from his throat. 12

Running into camp were the missing boys and behind them the forest was filled with moving bodies. 13

"Cleb?" He instantly recognized the lead hunter. As Dorn flung himself at Morad the other youngsters searched out their own kin amid howls that rang pleasantly in the man's ears. He held his boy close as he forced out the question, "How did you find them?"14

"They found us," Cleb said. "But I will let the boy do the bragging." He patted Dorn's thick chestnut hair. "Kamen's great hunting party." Cleb's voice was thick with ridicule as he looked around the campsite. "Has come to this?" He glanced at the roasting meat. "Rat!" he snorted. "Hunters eating rat in summer. What say you!" he yelled out. "Shall we feed these wretches with our beef."15

And Cleb's hunters, who had already moved in among relatives and friends, were laughing heartily and tossing jibs, offered to let the fools suck on the bones of their beef. 16

Before evening fell on the improved camp, a larger circle of light was laid, and soon the appetizing smell of roasting beef replaced the stench of rat on the spits.17

The rain let up and now Morad rested on robes provided by these new companions. Dorn lay stretched out beside him and the man found he was constantly touching the boy as if to convince himself he was real. 18

"They found us just after dark two nights ago. Dorn had sense enough to call out the hail or the guards would have killed some before we knew who they were." Cleb was telling part of the story. "We were headed east any way so returning them causes no delay. There is a large herd a day's run from here. So we can spare a few mouthfuls of beef." He teased.19

"When I told you to run for the trees. I didn't mean you should hide in them." Morad shook his head in wonder at the tale the boy was soon elaborating on.20

"The DeDiann were coming so fast," Dorn admitted. "We were so scared. I could think of nothing else but to climb the trees and hope they didn't look up and spot us. So many times one passed beneath my tree," was whispered, followed by a shiver. "And then the big cats fought all night. We waited until dawn before we came down and set out to find you." 21

"Dorn may be small in size," Cleb said. "But he thinks like a leader. He kept those boys together and though most are older they followed him. By recognizing signs my scouts left for me he found my camp."22

"But I could not go back and find Calan." Tears suddenly spilled from Dorn's eyes. "I wanted to but the others were afraid of the wild men."23

"And you were smart not too." Morad again touched the boy. "It was Kamen's folly in attacking the wild men that caused his brother's death."24

"You think he's dead? I did not see Calan die." The small face advertised a deep sorrow at the loss of his friend. 25

Morad understood. But he also knew Dorn must learn to face reality quickly if he was to survive on the hunt. So while he allowed a bit of compassion to gentle his tone he didn't spare the truth. "Dorn, the DeDiann claimed or destroyed anything left in our camp. And if Calan managed to out run their weapons he could never have stayed alive alone in the night. The big cats would have got him. Time you forgot your friend."26

"And you, Morad?" Cleb asked. "What must you forget? You have gathered Kamen's hunters to you but you have few weapons and no supplies."27

"And Cleb is thinking, this hunter is too young and reckless to be called leader." Morad gave a sharp laugh. "And you would be right. They will not follow me. Look how, with the thought of full bellies, they fawn over Kamen's brother."28

"The brother is dull-witted. He resembles Kamen but lacks his ability." Cleb said. "They would be fools to follow him."29

"And what can I offer them? We can't spare much time making new weapons. Shall we hunt with bare hands? Shall we defend ourselves with fists? No Cleb, I can offer only a slight chance at survival, perhaps a few beeves, and an embarrassing return to Cray. If that is to be our fate let Kamen's brother walk first."30

"Join me then."31

"What?"32

"Tell them you hunt with me." 33

"Abandon my own! Never in summer has a hunter deserted one band to hunt with another."34

"I will leave the way open so any who wish to may join us. Kamen was foolish in some ways but wise in others. He warned that each year the invading foreigners would become more numerous. Now that a group of the DeDiann have been antagonized who knows what these wild men will do."35

Morad sat contemplating Cleb's words. He remembered how he once stood with Kamen when the man argued at the home fires of Cray. For how many winters had they worried about the growing number of foreigners? Must I always stand second? he thought. The desire for leadership burned deep. For the past several days they had called him leader; but it had not been with respect only sneered in a whisper from one hungry mouth to another. He reached out and touched the now sleeping boy and the responsibility weighed heavy. 36

The older man, apparently observing the indecision, offered more. "Morad, I will make a pack with you in this way. Most of your surviving hunters are young; since you are few I will send some of my hot heads with you. While those older more experienced hunters from your group may stay with me. Your troop will travel separately, unencumbered except for necessities, staying no further away than a good run from my camp. You will keep safe the way so I will not need to be always on the alert."37

"How will we hunt?"38

"You will not need to. If we can take herds unmolested and butcher in safety how much more productive the hunt will be. You and your men will receive a fair share when the hunt is over."39

Though he had never cared for Cleb, finding him even more pompous and annoying then Kamen, still the concept appealed to him. ‘The leader of a large band of scouts.’ 40

The sunlight spilling down lit up his small tent and Morad was grateful for its arrival. The nights were lonely now and he missed the warm body of the boy he'd grown use to. Though leaving Dorn in the protection of Cleb's larger camp showed wisdom, still it made him feel he was shirking his duty. He pulled on the woven-leather britches that covered but allowed air to enter making them less uncomfortable in the heat. He noticed they were wearing thin in places and hoped they would hold up until autumn when a grateful Lea could weave him a new pair. 41

Except for those moments, when the urges of his maleness demanded release, he'd rarely concerned himself with thoughts of a woman. But now, since Dorn's safe return, he often thought of the boy's mother. 42

He smiled in memory of Lea's attractiveness. How her face would light with pride, her green eyes sparkle with pleasure, when he cut the mark of a leader on her tent. Yes, he decided, he would give her that honor. She had given him Dorn, a boy he could brag about openly. Who could snicker at a man bragging about such a boy. In truth it was because of Dorn, that he was now a leader.43

He smiled as he pictured himself lounging among the other leaders at the home fires of Cray. He could daydream of the tales he would speak and how they would listen...44

He stepped out in the sunlight as a group of scouts were just entering the campsite.45

"Morad" One hailed him. "We saw the fire from an encampment. A small hunting party of foreigners already at the slaughter. A few more tents than the count of fingers on one hand."46

"How far?"47

"Sure we made it there and back with out working up a good sweat." 48

Another added, "Just over that hill to the east. They culled the herd Cleb is headed for."49

"Cleb won't be here before late afternoon." Morad contemplated then he hollered so all could hear. "What say you? We have a feast and firelight waiting for Cleb. We have polished our weapons long enough."50

The announcement caused eager hooting and frenzied dancing as the warriors shook spears and blades at the sun in a pantomime of battle and bloodletting. Shortly the Bonsigh took to the warpath in full fury.51

Nothing! Morad stomped about the deserted campsite as he cursed loudly. Not only had the enemy fled, they had managed to pull down their tents, load up their beef, and take everything of value with them. There was nothing left but a few smoking pits and the remnants of their feeding and their necessary ditch. 52

Rubbish! He had led his warriors screeching through the forest at a break neck run only to discover, "Rubbish!"53

His men were so agitated at what they found waiting for them that now they were venting their passions on the innocent earth and trees, tearing and ripping greenery and howling in their outrage. He was suddenly concerned they might soon turn on each other or him . . .. It was their own fault, he realized.54

"Our own fault!" He yelled to be heard above the racket. "Our own fault!" He repeated several times until a bit of calm began to claim the men.55

Though they still milled around disgustedly stamping their feet and beating at the ground with the handles of spears, their noise was becoming laborious grunts as exhaustion replaced some of the agitation. 56

Morad allowed self-control to filter into his own youthful spirit. He spoke with authority instead of personal condemnation though he knew his was the greater fault. "Fools, fools, you came howling through the forest like charging bulls ready to do battle. They heard you coming miles away. Did you think they would simply stand here and wait for your knives to dismember them?"57

The flush of embarrassment began to replace the flush of anger. If any of them realized their leader had been as loud as the rest they didn't mention the fact, and Morad was grateful. "You have learned a lesson this day." He went on easily now in the stillness. "They were a small party so they wisely fled when they heard us coming. A larger group might have ambushed us. When next we move on an enemy, we must do so as the wild cats, with our growls contained until we are ready to pounce. Now let us vacate this place quickly. Toss about a few broken spears, so if Cleb's party comes through here, he will think we put the enemy to flight and are chasing them. "58

"A fight without leaving any bodies?" One questioned.59

Morad didn't let on the fool was nearly their token sacrifice as he glowered at the man. But then he decided against the action and said, "Cleb will have no way of knowing what took place here. Let him think what he may, I for one have no desire to repeat this tale." And then in a tone of scorn he laughed.60

While around him shaking heads and grinning mouths advertised agreement.61

Three Bonsigh waited in a shadowy glade. Darkened by an overcast sky, the heat of early afternoon still caused beads of sweat on their foreheads. Though not cowards, yet their eyes shifted nervously and often pink tongues darted out to moisten dry lips. Morad had assured the three men theirs was the safest task. But to put oneself on display to lure an enemy into a trap was new to them and easier said than accomplished. 62

The O'Enra came. The small dark foreigners moved through the forest as quietly as they knew how—which was never in complete silence and the ears of the Bonsigh picked up the hushed conversations as they came.63

The Bonsigh waited their weapons sharp and with hearts ready for battle.64

The forest waited while slight breezes played a soft song in the swaying flora and the limbs of trees like arms waved the O'Enra on deeper, deeper into the hands of their enemy.65

Morad grasped his spear tighter. Dark shadows among the trees prevented him from seeing his warriors. This was good for it kept them hidden from O'Enra eyes until it was too late. But it was bad also for it clouded his own sense of security and he couldn't gage how the waiting was affecting his men.66

He picked up on a sudden excitement in the converging O’Enra conversations. His decoys had been spotted.67

Lifted howls of pleasure and noise of shaking weapons invaded the quiet of the afternoon forest. Smug in their arrogance, brave in their numbers, the O'Enra had taken the bait of three fleeing Bonsigh scouts.68

Morad allowed a slight smile to form. The O'Enra were running heedlessly into his trap. The strand of trees he had chosen grew closely together and would force the separation of the oncoming hunters. Already the lead runners were in his view and clamoring loudly for the fleeing Bonsigh scouts to stop and die quickly. He let the lead runners pass and soon the strand filled with enemy hunters. 69

"BONSIGH!" His call was returned in volume as his warriors leaped at unsuspecting foe. 70

"To me!!" The scream ended in a gurgle of blood as Morad withdrew his blade from the O'Enra's throat. Seeing no necessity to further risk himself, the young General leaned against a wide tree to protect his rear, while he studied the battle. 71

While there was no doubt of the outcome, the enemy fought hard. Though taken by surprise and thrown into confusion with no way of escape, the smaller black haired men fought with the desire for a quick death.72

Soon the victory cry of, “BONSIGH!” rang in the air—then it began to swell louder into “MORAD!” as the General stepped into the view of his army. 73