“Here you go, little one,” said Tokkenoht, setting a handful of forest slugs down on a rock beside the human.
“I can’t. I know I should, but I just can’t. If I eat them, I’ll vomit, and then I will lose all the water I drank back at the stream. You eat them.”
The priestess scooped them back up and tossed them into her mouth.
It had been two days since the small human had helped her escape from the soft-skin warriors. Tokkenoht had managed to find enough food to keep her strength up. Forest slugs were considered a delicacy among her people. The human, however, had eaten nothing. Tokkenoht was beginning to worry about her.
“I’ll eat today,” said Stahwasuwasu Zrant. “Mark my words, I’ll bring down something I can cook today.”
“I don’t mean to criticize, little one,” said Tokkenoht. “After all, you arranged my escape, and then managed to remove my chains with that hair wire…”
“Hair pin,” corrected the human, using the soft-skin word. “My hut elders were correct. You really cannot do without them.”
“Yes, you have shown great cunning for a having seen so few summers.” She bobbed her head in annoyance. “How many summers have you seen, anyway? Six or seven?”
Tokkenoht hissed when the human let out her strange warbling laugh. It was such a strange sound; it was unnerving.
“I have actually seen thirteen summers, though that’s not really what you’re asking. The fourteenth anniversary of my birth was a short time ago.”
“Fourteen,” mused Tokkenoht. “I would not have guessed it, though I have been told that the soft-skins age much slower than we do. Wait. You mean you were born in winter?”
“Oh yes, my people routinely defy all the laws of nature.”
“Perhaps humans are much more dangerous than we thought.”
“If you are only now figuring that out, then perhaps I have been giving your race too much credit,” said the human.
Tokkenoht grunted in recognition of the insult and perhaps of an unsettling truth as well.
“As I was saying, I don’t mean to criticize, but those spears are too small to throw, even with an atlatl.”
The human female had crafted three small spears with tiny spear points and had trimmed the back ends of them with pieces of a feather she had found on the ground.
“Oh, these are not spears. I have tried throwing spears with an atlatl, but I’ve never been very good at it, and I certainly don’t have time to become good now. I need a weapon I already know how to use.”
“But you have your thunder weapon.”
“Yes, I do. I also only have ten more um… uses for it. I shouldn’t have wasted four scaring the males when one would have sufficed.” The human peered around into the forest. “I can use these to bring down something to eat and save the thunder weapon for defense. I don’t intend to end up in the belly of a feathered runner, like poor Warden.”
“This Wharden was a member of your hut?” asked Tokkenoht.
“No, he was just a friend.”
“I am sorry. I recently lost someone.”
“A member of your hut?”
“Yes, and more. She was the wife of my husband.”
“The wife of… fascinating! I had no idea that your people were um… that the males married more than one female.”
“Only the most powerful kings.”
“Then… you’re Hsrandtuss’s wife?”
Tokkenoht hissed the affirmative.
“Then it’s doubly important to get you back safely to your city.”
The human stood up and taking a knife from her belt, used it to cut a long segment of a branch from a willow tree. She carefully trimmed it.
“The warrior Azkhantice is your friend?” said Tokkenoht, after a few minutes of silence. “You hugged him.”
Stahwasuwasu Zrant stopped carving. Her face flushed in a way that the lizzie had been unaware was possible.
“Um, yes, Ascan is a friend too. We should get going. I can work on this while we travel.”
They started off again through the forest, walking in the direction of the morning sun. Tokkenoht took the lead and Stahwasuwasu Zrant followed, working her willow switch as she walked.
“What is your human name, Stahwasuwasu Zrant?” asked the priestess.
“It’s Iolana.”
“How strange. It sounds like a bird call.”
“I suppose,” she allowed. “What is Hsrandtuss like?”
“He is a good king. He is very strong and very brave. He is also wise.”
“Wise enough to get thunder weapons.”
“Yes, we bought them from the human traders from the other human city state—the one called Natine.”
“The Mirsannans?” wondered Iolana. “Not too much of a surprise, I suppose. I understand they’re setting up trading bases in the far east. You might even be better off with them on your side. They’re not looking to export as many settlers I imagine, since Mirsanna is so much larger than Brechalon in terms of land area.”
“You seem to know much about the politics of your people,” said Tokkenoht.
“Oh, no, not really. Everyone knows those things.”
The sun was high in the sky when they stopped to rest beside a small stream. They drank of the cool, clear water and then Tokkenoht searched for more food. In addition to more of the forest slugs, she found several winterberry bushes. Though animals had picked over most of them, she found a few overripe berries deep within the branches. Returning, she picked up a flat rock and used it as a plate for the human, setting the berries beside her.
“Thank you!” cried Iolana, scooping up the berries and pushing them all into her small mouth. “Mmmm. Those are so good!”
“What have you done there?” asked Tokkenoht examining what the other female had been working on.
“I used one of my leather bootlaces as string for my bow,” she said, holding up the branch she had now bent back and tied with a long leather strip. “I had to cut the other lace in two so I could use it on both boots. I don’t suppose my blisters can get much worse than they are already.”
“It looks like a musical instrument my people play,” said Tokkenoht.
“I can see that,” said Iolana. “My people play something called a violin using a bow not too different from this. Right now, however, I’m going to kill one of the birds I hear calling.”
“There is a flock of blue redwings over in those trees,” said Tokkenoht.
“My people call them ornithomimus. Yes, they’re perfect.”
“They are too fast to catch. They are even too fast for most hunters to spear.”
“I just need to get within eyesight,” said the human. “Can you help me?”
Tokkenoht nodded.
Hopping over the small stream and carefully moving through the trees, it was surprisingly easy to get within fifty feet of the flock of turkey-sized feathered dinosaurs. Several of the creatures perked up and watched the lizzie and the human, though they didn’t seem overly concerned. They were as aware of their speed and agility as the hunters were.
Iolana carefully slipped one of her handmade arrows into her new bow. Stretching the shoelace bowstring back to her cheek, she let the arrow fly. The ornithomimus were incredibly fast. The target jumped forward at the thunk sound of the bowstring, but either by design or happy accident, the human’s arrow had flown in that direction. Tokkenoht hissed in surprise as the projectile buried itself in the animal’s breast.
The two hunters ran to their prey. The ornithomimus was still kicking its legs when they reached it. Tokkenoht quickly picked it up and ripped its head from its neck.
“Your knife,” she said, holding out her hand.
Iolana handed her the steel blade, which she used to quickly gut the dinosaur. Handing both the knife and the carcass to the human, she bent down and quickly buried the blood and guts in the dirt. The human began denuding the animal of its feathers.
“We’ll go back across the stream and cook it,” said Tokkenoht. “The smoke will discourage predators drawn by the smell of blood.”
There was plenty of fuel in the redwood forest and the ornithomimus was soon arranged on a spit above a carefully laid fire pit. Iolana had a flint in her belt, and with the aid of her steel knife quickly had a fire gong. Then the two females sat back and savored the smell of cooking flesh.
“I’m impressed,” said Tokkenoht. “I had been told that soft-skins had poor survival skills.”
“Not in my hut. My father insists that we all…” Her voice grew quiet. “He insisted that we were prepared, in case we ever found ourselves alone… ever, without him.”
“There is water coming out of your eyes. Move away from the smoke.”
“Yes, you’re quite right,” said Iolana, getting up and moving to the other side of the fire. “Do you hear something?”
“Predators?”
“No. Thunder.” They both looked up at the sky. It was overcast, but didn’t look like rain.
“Your ears can play tricks on you in the forest,” said the lizzie.
They watched the meat cook in silence. At last, Tokkenoht pulled it off the flames and, using her claws, split the carcass in two, handing one half to the human. Iolana wasted no time tearing into it with her small white teeth, even burning her lips in her haste. She didn’t stop until she was stuffed. Setting the remains of her feast aside, she scooted back to lean against a pine tree trunk.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to ask. I hope you didn’t mind your meat cooked.”
“We eat both cooked and uncooked meat,” said Tokkenoht. “I usually eat my red meat and fish raw, but cooked is better for the small feathered runners.”
“Even so,” agreed Iolana.
“We should continue on,” said the lizzie. “I think we can reach the large plains to the south by tomorrow. Then if we skirt along the edge, there is a chance that we may run into Hsrandtuss’s forces.”
“Do you think you can get him to stop fighting?”
Tokkenoht hissed. “Do not forget, it is your people who are the aggressors.”
“Yes, I know,” said Iolana. “But the militia should be ready to withdraw now that they know your people aren’t pushovers.”
“That’s not my understanding of how humans think,” said Tokkenoht.
“No, not mine either,” muttered Iolana.
They traveled several miles before stopping, as the shadows grew long. While Iolana prepared another fire, Tokkenoht cleared the area of loose brush. They built a very large bonfire to protect them from predators, though the most feared creatures in the area were largely diurnal.
“I have heard that your people have two names,” said Tokkenoht, after putting a large log on the fire. “Yet all I have heard from you are single names—Iolana, Whardon, and Azkhantice.”
Iolana let loose her unnerving laugh.
“We actually have three or four names, but we usually just use the first and last. Ascan Tice is really two names—Ascan and Tice. I happen to know his middle name is Iago.”
“His hut members share a name with him?”
“That’s right. His… um, female from the same mother… well, her name is Willa Radha Tice, but she hates her middle name. And of course, she’s getting married soon, so she’ll take her husband’s last name. Then she’ll be Willa Radha Lance. That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Do you have three or four names?” asked Tokkenoht.
“I have four, though I’ve always considered the second one pretty hideous. I mean, really—Iolana Livonia Dechantagne Staff…”
The lizzie jumped back so quickly, she fell on her tail.
“I know those names!”
“Um, no you don’t,” said the human.
“Yes I do! Staff is the name of the one they call the Yellow King!”
“Um, I suppose.”
“And Dechantagne is the name of the Matriarch of all the soft-skins!”
“Not all of them. Just the… ones on this continent.”
“Are you from their hut?”
“Well, yes.”
Tokkenoht jumped to her feet and began pacing. She was only too aware that family connections made humans act in dangerous and unpredictable ways. She stopped and looked at Iolana.
“Are you their offspring?”
The human raised her shoulders in a gesture Tokkenoht was unfamiliar with. “Yes.”
Tokkenoht returned to her pacing. Humans were especially attached to their offspring. She knew it, and she even understood it. She had felt it herself when she looked at the miniature lizzies in the offspring cage. When they looked up at her, she felt a desire to take care of them. She felt pleasure when she fed them through the fence, all those little copies of herself: dozens of them.
She stopped and looked at Iolana again.
“How many offspring do the Yellow King and the Matriarch have?”
“Um, all together?”
“Yes, all together.”
“Well, all together… there’s just me. But to be fair, I don’t think my mother likes me all that much.”
Tokkenoht let out a long slow hiss.
The next day they continued in a generally southeasterly direction. Though Iolana tried to start a conversation several times, Tokkenoht was not in a talkative mood. In the mid-afternoon, Iolana shot another bird or dinosaur; the distinction between the two was difficult to discern. This one was slightly smaller than the previous one, and the arrow was destroyed when the beast fell over on it. They made camp early and cooked the meat over the open fire.
“How many times do you eat in a day?” asked Tokkenoht.
“Oh, so now you wish to talk?”
“Never mind.”
“No, I’m sorry,” said the human. “At home, we eat four times a day.”
“Four times! The meals must be very small.”
“No, they are quite substantial. I know that your people generally only eat once per day, but I’ve found that warm-blooded animals must eat much more than cold-blooded ones.”
“Yes, that is true,” agreed the lizzie. “You must have been very hungry these last few days.”
“Starving. Mind, I probably wasn’t eating as much as I’m used to during the week before that either.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What’s the point in complaining when there’s nothing to be done about it?” asked the human. “I suppose I should take my own advice more at home. I’m sure that Esther would point that out, if she were here.”
Tokkenoht pulled the cooked meat from the spit above the fire and handed half to the human.
“Esther? Is that another hut-mate or friend?”
“Both, actually,” said Iolana. “She’s one of you lot, well, sort of anyway.”
“What do you mean? She is a lizzie?” The priestess used the human word for her people.
“Yes, but she’s been raised as a human.”
Tokkenoht pulled the meat that she was about to bite down upon away from her mouth. “Raised as a human?”
“Well, yes. I got her when she was a little zrant.” She held her hands up about thirty inches apart. “I imagine she was not quite two years old. Of course I was only just seven at the time.”
“And is she…? Does she...?”
“She dresses like a human and speaks Brech. Of course she can speak your language too. She comes to shrine with me sometimes, but I don’t think she’s that interested in religion. She does revere Yessonar, so there’s that.”
“I find the whole idea abhorrent.”
“Oh, but she really is a wonderful person, and my best friend.”
“What would you think if you heard of a human offspring being raised by one of us in Yessonarah?” asked Tokkenoht.
“Well that wouldn’t be allowed…” Iolana looked at the ground for a moment and then back at the priestess. “It’s not the same thing though, is it? None of the lizzies in Port Dechantagne gave two figs about me taking Esther home. She was just one more pest to get rid of.”
“Yes, that is different,” said Tokkenoht. “It won’t be the same forever. In Yessonarah, we are raising our own offspring, our children. They are not pests anymore.”
“I would love to see that,” said Iolana. “Do you think I could come and visit? Maybe meet your children?”
The priestess sat down and took a bite of her meal.
“I don’t know,” she said, with a mirthful hiss. “A known offspring thief…”
“What a learning experience that would be,” mused the human. “It might just be the starting point for a book on lizzies. Nobody’s written a really good one yet.”
“Eat your food,” said the lizzie. “You may come and visit Yessonarah and be a guest in the palace, provided your people do not exterminate mine, or mine exterminate yours.”
By the time they had finished eating it had grown dark. They built up the fire and selected spots for themselves near it.
“Why do you lie like that?” asked the human.
“Like what?”
“With your nose pointing toward the fire. It would seem, with your cold-blooded nature, that it would be better for you to lie with your side to the fire. That way your entire body could be warmed.”
“In this manner, many may receive the warmth of the fire at the same time.” This seemed a very wise answer to Tokkenoht, though she in no way knew if this was actually the reason.
“There is no one here but the two of us now.”
“This is the way that it has always been done.”
The next morning, they continued on. After having walked only about an hour, they came across a large cluster of berry bushes. These were not the winterberries that they had eaten before, but another variety, unknown to humans, but well known to the lizzies. They grew in little clusters like blackberries or boysenberries and were light in color like the latter, but grew much longer, in some cases as long as Iolana’s index finger. Unlike winterberries, these were only just coming into season, and most were not yet ripe, but a few had turned enough that they were edible.
As the human and the lizzie worked their way through the bushes, filling their mouths, and in Iolana’s case, her pockets, with berries, they realized that they were on the border between the redwood forest and one of the large plains that dotted the area. Tokkenoht, who was several paces ahead, suddenly stopped and stood up straight. Noticing this, the human female, moved to her side. The first thing she noticed were half a dozen monstrous gorgosauruses along with a host of smaller scavengers moving across the grassland. Then she saw what they were scavenging—the bodies of human soldiers and lizardmen warriors alike. It was the scene of a horrific battle.
“It doesn’t look like you will be visiting Yessonarah,” said the priestess.
“Kafira!” said Iolana with a gulp. Then she dropped to her knees and vomited amid the bushes. “This is the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Yes. Horrible.”
“Is this the battle that happened seven days ago?” wondered Iolana, when she had climbed back to her feet.
“What battle seven days ago?”
“The day before we found you and Ascan, a runner passed us on his way to Port Dechantagne. He said that the lizzies had counter-attacked and defeated our forces, killing as many three hundred militiamen and wounding many more.”
“No, this is not that battle,” said Tokkenoht. “Judging from the amount of decay and the presence of large predators, I don’t think this happened more than two days ago.”
“The thunder I heard,” said Iolana.
“Maybe. There are also many more of my people here than yours. I would say four hundred lizzies to only one hundred humans. This must have been a victory for you soft-skins.”
“No,” said Iolana. “If my people had won the battle, they wouldn’t have left the dead on the field. We don’t do that.”
“Which way do we go now?” asked Tokkenoht.
“We keep going east. Your army might be west of us, but we know Yessonarah is east.”
Leaving the berry bushes behind, and leaving the battle dead to the predators, they turned east and walked until well past sundown. Considering the number of very large predators on the plains, they decided that a fire wasn’t sufficient protection, instead climbing one of the pine trees to find limbs far higher than even a tyrannosaurus could have reached. Tokkenoht draped herself over a limb, while Iolana propped herself up with her back to the tree trunk. They didn’t speak, but just fell asleep.
Iolana woke the next morning to the sounds of stamping and trumpeting below. She looked down to see a pair of amargasauruses in a mating dance. The graceful, long-necked creatures, about the size of the iguanodons at use in Port Dechantagne, were circling each other in a carefully choreographed dance. The colorful male was displaying the reddish orange twin sails, tall near his head and running down the length of his back. The female seemed interested.
“It is a sure sign of spring,” said Tokkenoht from a branch over.
“I suppose it is.”
When they climbed down, the two dinosaurs hurried off, but did so together.
“She has already decided she will have him,” said the priestess.
“I guess some of us are just easily impressed.”
As they continued their march through the forest, Iolana kept her bow at ready in case they should run across appropriate prey, but there seemed to be few small animals out this close to the plains.
They had walked no more than an hour, when suddenly Tokkenoht stopped and looked around. A voice from their left shouted, “Halt!” The priestess didn’t know the word, but she instinctively understood the meaning. She froze where she was. Iolana looked around. A dozen humans stepped out from behind trees and bushes. Each wore clothing that was a mottled brown and green pattern, and each carried a thunder weapon.
“Drop the weapon, girl!”
“Oh,” said Iolana, letting her bow and arrow fall to the forest floor.
“Lady Iolana, I presume,” said the soldier who had spoken before.
“Um, yes,” replied Iolana. “I don’t believe I know you.”
“No, I’ve not had the pleasure. Lieutenant Geoffrey Haig, at your service.”
“Look, Lieutenant, this lizzie is a very important member of her city. If we can get her back home, we might be able to stop all the fighting.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. That’s all outside my purview. You’ll both be coming along with us. Colonel Bentford will decide what’s to be done. Now, tell your lizzie: I don’t have any shackles, but if he runs, I’ll have to shoot him.”
“Her. I’ll tell her.” Iolana turned to Tokkenoht. “We’re captured again. Don’t run or they will shoot you.”
The lizzie looked around at the soldiers. “I see.”
They turned back and marched almost the exact reverse of the path that Tokkenoht and Iolana had followed that morning. When they paused for a rest stop, they couldn’t have been that far from site of the battlefield.
“Lieutenant Haig,” asked Iolana. “Were you involved in the battle here three days ago?”
“No. That was the Militia under Major Upham. He coaxed the lizzies into chasing after his retreating forces and then flanked them here. Knocked them back on their heels a bit, enough to get his wounded away, but hardly a knockout blow.”
“You’re Colonial Guard, then?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“I didn’t recognize your uniforms.”
“They’re new. It’s called camouflage.”
“From the Mirsannan camoufler, meaning to conceil,” she noted.
“If you say so, Miss. This is the first battlefield test.”
Iolana was given one of the chocolate nut and fruit ration bars, and a drink of water from a canteen. At her insistence, Tokkenoht was given water too, and Iolana gave her the berries from her pocket.
When they started moving again, they cut to the southwest and before long were crossing a stretch of plains. It took them all afternoon to reach the far edge of the forest, but just past the trees, as the sun was going down, they entered into a large military encampment. Lieutenant Haig led them through a maze of pup tents to one that seemed no different from the others, save the guard standing outside.
“Lieutenant Haig to report with detainees.”
The tent flap opened and a middle-aged, uniformed man with a large handlebar mustache stepped out. The lieutenant gave the man a sharp salute, which was returned.
“Good work, Haig. You and your men get some food and some rest.” They exchanged salutes again and then the lieutenant turned and left.
“Hello, Colonel Bentford,” said Iolana.
“I’m flattered that you remember me, My Lady,” said the colonel. “Thank you for helping me complete one of my mission objectives.”
“What might that be?” she wondered.
“The governor tasked me with two objectives: first, to recover you safely, and secondly, to put down the lizzie uprising.”
“This is no uprising,” said Iolana. “This is a war, and one that was started by the Port Dechantagne Militia invading the lizzie’s territory.”
“What do we have here,” said the colonel, looking at Tokkenoht.
“She’s the High Priestess of Yessonarah, which makes her very valuable.”
The officer turned to the sentry. “Lock her up, but see that she is not mistreated.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Once the soldier had led the lizzie away, he held open the flap of his tent and gestured for the girl to enter. The inside of the tent was as spartan as one would have expected, with a table and chair on one side and a cot on the other. The colonel had Iolana sit on the cot, while he took the chair.
“I’m well aware of how this conflict started, not that it matters now,” he said. “I don’t want to invade the lizzie’s territory and I couldn’t even if I did. I have an infantry brigade at my command, along with five wizards of varying skill, a few pieces of artillery, and that ridiculous crawler. That fool Netley managed to get almost his entire regiment wiped out. What’s left of them are on their way back to Port Dechantagne.”
“That’s why we should make peace with the lizzies,” said Iolana. “We can give them their priestess back as a gesture of good will.”
“We may do exactly that… after tomorrow. The governor… your mother believes, and I agree with her, that we must hit the lizzies hard so that we can negotiate from a position of strength. We can’t leave them with the impression that they can kill hundreds of us without facing any repercussions.”
“So you’re going to throw away hundreds, maybe thousands of lives, just to improve our negotiating position?” said Iolana, exasperated.
“We will suffer some casualties, but we’ll make the enemy suffer worse. Hsrandtuss outmaneuvered Netley and he surprised him with lizzie riflemen. He won’t surprise me. I know exactly where he is and exactly what forces he’s bringing to the party tomorrow. This will be the largest battle ever fought on this continent. We’ll send him back to his city bloodied. Then we can go back to ours.”