Upon a Savage Shore Ch. 19

Author's note 9/15/2014: Chapter 22's rough draft is completed and the events of this chapter are set. Since I won't need to make any changes to 19 for the following events, I'm posting this now.

I want to thank everyone who stepped up and explained all of the possible reasons Liam might have had for not using his guns in chapter 17. Had I realized when I wrote it how many people would not understand, I would have written the chapter much differently. Still and all, I guess I did pretty well since for every person who questioned Liam's actions there was someone else who explained them.

I will try to have chapter 20 ready by the middle of the week. The story is rapidly coming to a close and I think it will be completed (barring unforeseen delays) by the end of next week.

*****

"Show me how you did that," M'pel E'kmel said to Sscuha. They were in the empty workshop next to the kitchen where the commander normally worked on the hides. Sscuha had just demonstrated how to split a length of sinew with a flint blade. She blinked at the commander, trying to understand her words. M'pel E'kmel sighed and said, "Again."

"Again?" Sscuha asked. She found it difficult to believe such intelligent people could not perform some of the simplest tasks. She laid the sinew over her stick again and used the flint blade. Carefully she pierced the sinew and pulled it, splitting the end about a finger's length down. Then she gripped the fiber in both hands and pulled it in two.

"And that's all there is to it?" M'pel E'kmel said, bemused. "I would have thought it was more complex."

Sscuha watched as her new friend took her own stick and laid a strip of sinew over it the way she had been shown. Sscuha was about to hand her the piece of flint, but M'pel E'kmel simply extended the claw on one of her thumbs and used it to pierce the sinew and strip it the way Sscuha had with the flint. She pulled the fibers apart and laughed. Sscuha smiled at her. How clever and how convenient to have such claws. The High Grass folk had only tough nails like miniature hooves on the tips of their fingers. Sscuha watched as M'pel E'kmel split more sinew, each time she did it a little faster. Soon the large piece was many narrower strands.

"Good," Sscuha said and patted M'pel E'kmel on the arm. "Now we finish these others. Then I show you how to stitch hides."

"Hides?" the commander asked. She and the other castaways had been working hard to learn the native language for the past four days, but progress was slow. A few words were easy to remember, but there were many in the native tongue. Perhaps too many to easily distinguish one from another.

"Not now," Sscuha said and patted M'pel E'kmel's arm again. "Sinew. Split."

"Sinew. Split." The commander nodded her understanding and took another piece from the small pile next to her.

From the plaza came the sounds of target practice as Chhal taught Clot'ilda to shoot a bow. She was the only castaway small enough to effectively use one of the native weapons and, as with Liam's atlatl, Clot'ilda seemed to have a natural aptitude for it. These quiet pastimes were suddenly interrupted by a call of alarm from Tem'Ma'tel on the wall. M'pel E'kmel dropped the sinew and rushed outside with Sscuha on her heels.

"What's happened?" she demanded as soon as she entered the plaza.

"A rider, Commander. Coming fast!" Tem'Ma'tel pointed out over the valley. "Something has happened at the village. I saw a party go out to the stream with water skins and there was some disturbance. When they rushed back to the village, one was being carried."

"What's going on?" demanded Liam, coming from his rooms. He was buckling on his gun belt, though he looked bleary eyed and tousled from sleep.

"We don't know, Sergeant," M'pel E'kmel said. "Come and help me with the gate."

All the castaways and the two Fauns gathered at the open gate waiting for what news the rider would bring. They did not have to wait long. Up the path thundered the young hunter they had first encountered, his beast wild-eyed and blowing. He hauled back on the reins and brought his mount to a stop just outside the gate.

"Sscuha there is an emergency!" Stolk said urgently. "Ssuqlik, the daughter of the Keeper of Wisdom, has been attacked by something like a fanglog! Another was killed."

"What can I do?" Sscuha asked, bewildered. She was no shaman, no healer.

"Sneisqlik asks that you beg these people to come. Perhaps they have medicine that can save her."

"I will try," Sscuha replied. She knew Ssuqlik, they were of an age, and she knew Stolk wished to court the girl, though he had not enough name. Turning to the big male and the older female she tried to think of what words they might understand. "Warrior, Oldwife, help."

"Help?" Liam asked. "Help with what?"

Sscuha frowned in concentration. She simply didn't have enough knowledge to explain. She reached out and touched Warrior on his side where Stilmnah's spear had pierced him, saying "Wound."

"Clearly someone has been injured," M'pel E'kmel said, her expression tense. "Some accident must have occurred at the stream."

"Charlie, saddle," Liam ordered, pointing to the browsing animals. Chhal looked at him, then at the animals and rushed off. "Tem'Ma'tel, help him. Clot'ilda, get a couple of med kits. Quick. Commander, see what you can learn. I'm going to get my armor on."

"Armor? Why?" she asked.

"It could be a trap and I'm not going unprepared this time." Liam rushed off to his room.

Turning back to Sscuha, M'pel E'kmel said, "Speak."

"A young female is wounded," Sscuha said and then shook her head, realizing Oldwife would not understand. She pointed to herself. "Female."

"Female. I understand," the commander said with a nod.

"Wounded," said the Faun. She then held her hands up, wrists together with her fingers crooked and scissored them, clearly imitating the jaws of a predator.

"A female was attacked by an animal?" M'pel E'kmel asked. She nodded and asked, "Where?"

Sscuha shook her head unable to recall what that word meant.

"Sue, where?" M'pel E'kmel repeated and began pointing to various parts of her body.

"I think she wants to know where Ssuqlik is wounded," Sscuha said to Stolk.

"Her legs," the young hunter responded instantly. "Both legs. Please hurry. She's bleeding!"

Sscuha turned back to Oldwife and pointing to her legs she said, "Wounded."

"I understand," M'pel E'kmel said with an exaggerated nod.

Liam and Clot'ilda emerged from the apartments at the same time Tem'Ma'tel and Chhal brought up the saddled animals.

"Alright, Commander, you've ridden animals before, haven't you?" Liam asked, still pulling on his sleeves as Clot'ilda snapped fastenings closed on his breastplate.

"Yes, but not like these," she said.

"Still, you've got some experience," he said and clapped his helmet on then began closing the clasps on his leg armor. "You'll ride one, Tem'Ma'tel will ride with Charlie. I'll ride the bull and Clot'ilda will ride with Sue."

"I ride Rover, Liam," Clot'ilda said firmly.

"Rover won't be able to keep up, Babydoll," he said taking the reins of the bull.

"I. Ride. Rover," Clot'ilda replied. She had absolutely no wish to ride such a large beast as one of these things. A fall from one would surely kill her. She was convinced of it.

"Fine. Give me the med kits." He reached out and took them and then mounted the bull. "Call Rover and when you get there wait with Tem'Ma'tel outside the village."

"Outside?" Tem'Ma'tel asked frowning.

"Outside," he confirmed. "In case we need a rescue."

"You can't believe this is a trap," M'pel E'kmel said as she climbed into the saddle. It was too small for her and had no stirrups, but the high pommel and cantle made for a tight if uncomfortable fit and she had no fear of falling off.

"No, but I ain't taking any chances." Liam tucked the med kits into his cargo pockets and said, "Tem'Ma'tel, get some weapons. Fast."

The jZav'Etch Marine returned a minute later and handed deq'istles to the commander and Clot'ilda who was now sitting astride Rover. The big beast looked confused, but he made no protest at her slight weight. Once everyone was mounted Liam motioned the young hunter to lead the way and they were off at a punishing gallop.

Liam had ridden horses often on his uncle's farm and once on Earth he had ridden a camel. He found these native beasts had a gate somewhere between the two. It was easy for him to adapt his seat and he saw that once underway M'pel E'kmel adapted quickly also. Tem'Ma'tel, who had never ridden any animal, held onto the saddle with a death grip while Charlie sat confidently, head high, almost smiling at the excitement of storming over the grassland. Sue rode as well as her son and they soon outpaced Clot'ilda on Rover, though the plainswalker was moving faster than they had seen him run except on the day he brought the wounded Pah'Tht back to the villa.

Ten minutes of hard riding brought them to the village where they were greeted by a subdued and worried looking community. The Fauns cleared a path straight to a hut near the long one where the chief lived. Outside, the chief and the ambassador stood, the latter ringing his hands and pacing. A pair of hunters took the leads of the mounts as Liam and M'pel E'kmel dismounted. Sue leapt down from her animal and went straight to the ambassador, taking his hands and asking questions.

Liam watched as the two exchanged a few rushed words and then the ambassador waved them into his hut. The interior was lit by a number of tallow dips in large mollusk shells, sending thin wisps of soot into the air. On a pad of hides lay an unconscious young female, her legs bloodied below the knees and a large wound in one thigh. An older female knelt next to her holding her hand.

"Here," Liam said, handing one of the med kits to M'pel E'kmel as he removed his helmet. They moved to the wounded female.

"This leg is broken," the commander said. "Lacerations and punctures. Not good, but I don't think these wounds are life threatening."

"She's losing a lot of blood from this wound," Liam said intently. There was a tourniquet wrapped around the girl's thigh, but blood was still seeping from the punctures. He took a probe and slipped the tip into one of them. His kit ticked and then chimed, flashing data onto its screen. "Man, there's all kinds of information, but the kit doesn't know the anatomy."

"This one does," M'pel E'kmel said. "I did those scans of our friends when they first joined us, remember?"

She moved to Liam's side and looked at the screen before taking a lead and plugging it into the port on his machine. Instantly the data spooled and both machines began analyzing the female's wounds.

"Infection is already setting in?" Liam wondered aloud.

"Must be some kind of toxin in the creature's bite," she replied. "A simple antibiotic may solve that. Her femur is broken, too. This poor girl won't be walking any time soon."

"Whatever did this must be pretty powerful," Liam said absently as he took a hypo from his kit and loaded it with antibiotics. He was about to inject the female, but the older Faun grabbed his wrist, frowning at him. "It's medicine. I won't harm her."

The old female shook her head firmly and pushed his hand back.

"Give it to me," M'pel E'kmel said, taking the hypo from his fingers. "She may not trust you after the last time you were here."

Liam grunted and ran his scanner over the patient's abdomen and chest while the commander administered the shot without interference. The scanner indicated the female had multiple bruises, muscle strains and internal contusions.

"I think she got bounced around pretty hard," he told M'pel E'kmel as she began cleaning the wounds with disinfectant. "A couple of cracked ribs to go with everything else."

"Whatever this animal was, it was large," she said. "The bite is wider than my hand is long."

"A hyena-frog?"

"They were by the water when she was attacked," she replied, packing gauze into one of the punctures. "And as powerful as hyena-frogs are, I doubt one would have done this kind of damage. Besides, they travel in packs and would surely have been seen before the attack."

"Damned big, no matter what it is."

"Yes." She paused to read her kit and then said, "Sergeant, perhaps you should take this opportunity to mend some fences."

"We are," he said and checked the patient's eyes. "Both eyes are responsive."

"Good. What I mean is that you could send Clot'ilda in to me and take Tem'Ma'tel with that young hunter and see if you could find and kill the beast that attacked this poor girl. The villagers may already have sent a party to deal with it, but that may not have occurred to them."

"Right," Liam said, grabbing his helmet. "I'll send in Clot'ilda if she's here. Good luck, Commander."

"Luck to you, also," she said as he left the hut.

Liam pushed between the chief and the ambassador, taking the chief by the arm as he did.

"Chief, I want to try to kill the animal that did this," Liam said making gestures in an effort to convey his meaning.

"Sscuha, what does he say?" Seschiqal asked.

"He speaks of an animal," she replied, concentrating on Warrior's words.

"Sue, I want to hunt the animal that attacked the girl," said Liam, again making gestures indicating the wounded female in the hut and then gesturing out at the stream.

"Animal?" Sscuha asked. At Liam's nod she turned to Seschiqal and said, "I think he wishes to know what attacked Ssuqlik."

"We think it was a fanglog," Seschiqal said frowning.

"Stolk," Liam whistled and clicked the hunter's name to catch his attention. "Come with me."

The chief and Sscuha followed the pair as Liam led them towards the entrance of the kraal.

"We hunt," Liam said carefully, hoping Sue would understand his meaning.

"Hunt?" she asked, wide eyed. No one hunted the fanglog. They were far too dangerous. Faster than any hunter could be and lying in wait below the water until an unsuspecting victim was near. Too dangerous. It would kill Warrior. It would kill any who tried to hunt it.

"Hunt," Liam said firmly.

"Chief, he wishes to hunt the fanglog," Sscuha said.

"No one hunts fanglogs," Seschiqal replied, astonished.

"He is Warrior," she said simply. "He is strong. He will hunt it if he can."

"I will hunt with him," Stolk said, a fire in his eyes.

"I will go also," Seschiqal said, being decided by the young hunter's zeal. "If the mighty one goes, I will go. We will kill this fanglog and others will fear us."

"Or it will kill all of you," Sscuha argued. "Do not do this thing, my chief."

"I must. After what Stilmnah did, I must," he said and pulled Liam to a stop outside the kraal. "Wait here. We go for weapons."

Liam looked to Sue and she pushed her hands down in the gesture he knew meant wait. He gave her a nod and watched as the chief and Stolk ran off.

"What happens, SarJ'ant?" Tem'Ma'tel asked. Clot'ilda and Rover were with her while Charlie held the reins of the riding beast.

"Clot'ilda, I need you to go in and help M'pel E'kmel treat the girl," he said and pointed to the hut where everyone was gathered. Clot'ilda nodded without question and trotted off. "Tem'Ma'tel, you and me are going to try to find and kill the animal that attacked the girl."

"Animal?" Tem'Ma'tel asked.

"Something big grabbed her," he explained. "It might still be around and from the looks I got when the Fauns realized what I wanted to do, it has to be pretty dangerous. You up for it?"

For answer she unslung her weapon and unfolded its stock, checking to be sure the safety was off.

"That's my Marine," said Liam, grinning and patted her on the rump.

When the young hunter returned he was carrying a pair of flint tipped spears and his bow with a quiver full of arrows. The chief arrived a minute later with a small leather shield on his arm, a long spear and a thick club hanging from a strap at his hip.

"His female goes with him," Sscuha told the males. "They will hunt together, I think."

"Are you sure it is a female?" asked Stolk, remembering his first impression that this was the male of the three furred strangers. Sscuha smacked him lightly on the side of the head. He dodged back, protesting, "I did not know!"

"Strongwife is kind, though fearsome," Sscuha said. "They are all good to me and my son."

"Enough," Seschiqal said sternly. "We go to hunt that which the High Grass folk do not hunt. A female such as this is welcome."

Sscuha and Chhal followed at a little distance accompanied by Rover who was curious to see what was happening. Stolk led the way down to where the folk collected their water. It was near the spot he and his party of scouts had used as a camp. Immediately he saw that the stream had risen considerably due to all the rain. Much deeper than before, it was now a place where the fanglog could easily hide in wait without being discovered. The females had been too incautious. This was the bad luck Stilmnah had brought on the village.

"Tracks, SarJ'ant," Tem'Ma'tel said, pointing to deep prints in the mud at the edge of the water. She had not approached the stream, knowing danger lurked below its surface.

"A lot of them," Liam observed. "Either there was more than one of these things or it has a lot of legs."

"SarJ'ant, look," she said. There was blood among the tracks, mixed into the mud a few meters away.

"Four toes. Big claws. Maybe it's something like a crocodile or a swamp lion," he said, noting how the tracks indicated the creature had pulled its victim back into the stream. There was no sign its belly had touched the bank, meaning it had fully supported its weigh on its feet during the attack.

"Four toes?" Stolk said to Seschiqal. "I thought fanglogs had six."

"These are not the tracks of a fanglog," Seschiqal said with a frown.

"What could it be, Chief Seschiqal?" Sscuha asked, worried.

"I do not know," he said and stepped over to Warrior. "Mighty one, this is not the animal we thought it was."

Liam frowned down on the chief, not understanding his meaning. Seschiqal pointed to one of the clearest tracks and motioned for Liam to kneel.

"A fanglog's track looks like this," Seschiqal said and pressed his fingers into the mud next to the clear track. With a few quick motions he sculpted the track of a fanglog, including the marks made by its short claws. "That is fanglog. I do not know what this other is."

"What he mean, SarJ'ant?" Tem'Ma'tel wondered.

"Not sure," replied Liam, getting to his feet. He stared at the impression the chief had made and then at the print the creature had left. "It might be that these tracks are from something the chief hasn't seen before. He keeps using the same word over and over and he pointed to the impression he just made when he said it."

Liam looked up at a whistle from Stolk. He saw the young Faun pointing up stream to a spot about twenty meters away near an undercut in the opposite bank. Liam powered on his sensors and immediately picked up a heat signature below the surface.

"That is one big son of a bitch."

"SarJ'ant?" asked Tem'Ma'tel coming to his side.