Mankind moved across southern Asia, crossing India and Indochina and coming up against the Pacific Ocean. The ice age lowered the sea level, making what we call land bridges in several parts of the world, but in human times there was always a gap between Asia and Australia. However, at times Sumatra/Java/Borneo and the Philippines were connected to Indochina, and evidences of mankind there date back as far as 50,000 years ago. That is the time of this setting. The place is by the shore of the Sulu Sea, which today separates the Philippine Islands from Borneo, but at that time was a great inland sea some four hundred miles across. Climate does, to a fair extent, determine the outlines of the land; when it changes, the land changes.
Erectus was resident throughout Eurasia for more than one and a half million years, but his population was relatively sparse. Man for man, Erectus was more than a match for modern man, physically, and he was by no means stupid. But the superior technology, communication, and foresight of the moderns made them more formidable. Why didn’t Erectus develop such things in similar fashion? Perhaps because his brain was as significantly different from that of mankind as his body: of similar size, but differently proportioned, as described in Chapter 2. On the other hand, Erectus and Neandertal did hold their own for about 50,000 years after the moderns invaded their territories, so it took more than a better brain to do the job. The key to victory may have been as simple as a better idea, late in coming, but ultimately overwhelming in its cumulative impact.
Plus one other thing: the first tamed animals. Genetic evidence now indicates that the dog descends from the wolf, and was first domesticated perhaps 100,000 years ago. Until relatively recently no effort seems to have been made to modify its appearance; the dog looked just like a small brown wolf, but ran with men. It proved to be a great friend.
Note: in this context, the term “beest” means any large beast of prey, as in wildebeest.
This time it was Rebel who was returning, with her younger brother Keeper. And Keeper’s dogs.
For Keeper had a way with animals. When Hero had speared a wolf bitch, Keeper had sought out her den and found the pups. He had taken them in and cared for them, and Haven, softhearted, had helped. The others thought this was crazy, but the pups grew up into tame wolves that looked to Keeper as their pack leader. Keeper, at seventeen, was a slight man, gifted with neither the power of Hero nor the expertise of Craft, but now the three wolves were always with him, and while they sought no quarrels with others, they bristled and growled warningly when there seemed to be any threat to him. Recently he had found another litter, and was raising a second group of animals, so that he could breed them together and have more. At this point, a number of other people were interested. Haven was caring for that second litter, while Keeper traveled with the first.
The area was easy to locate, because the brother and sister lived on an island in the sea. All they had to do was follow the coast until they spied it. The sea was so big they could not see across it, but Rebel understood that it was entirely surrounded by land. That was hard to imagine!
They came in sight of the isle. It was a rocky projection from the water, about a hundred and fifty paces from the shore. Nestled among the stone spikes was a structure of rocks, gravel, wood, hide, and brush: the house. The only access to it was by boat, for there were crocodiles and large snakes in the vicinity.
“I like that,” Keeper said, gazing at the residence. “No one will sneak up on that residence.”
“That’s the idea,” Rebel agreed. “The Others don’t use boats, and they’re the main threat.” She took a stance on a projection of land that reached out partway toward the island. “Keep the dogs quiet while I hail them.”
Keeper cautioned the wolves, who were suspicious of strangers, and Rebel put her hands to her mouth and called, “Ho! Harbinger!” She was afraid he would be gone, or have found another woman. She had hardly encouraged him during her prior visit, after all.
Harbinger emerged, and stood with his bare toes touching the water. He recognized her, of course. “Come to quarrel, Rebel?” he called.
“No. I come to marry you.”
He shook his head, knowing better. “What of Craft?”
“He didn’t come. This is my younger brother Keeper. And his dogs.”
The man stared at the animals. Aware of it, even from that distance across the water, they began to bristle. “Don’t stare at them,” Rebel called. “That makes them angry. Ignore them.”
“Dogs?” he asked, averting his gaze to a degree. “They look like odd wolves.”
“They are wolves,” Keeper said. “From another region, so they don’t look the same as the wild ones around here. These are smaller, and brown, and tame. But not friendly until they know a person. So just let them sniff you, and they will gradually accept you. You can tell when they are friendly, because their tails curl upward and their ears perk up too.”
Harbinger looked doubtful, understandably. So Rebel made a demonstration. “Here, Brownback,” she called. One of the dogs perked up his pointed ears and ran to her, tail wagging. She stroked his head, and he licked her hand. He was her chief foot-warmer, and she always gave him tidbits from her food. He was the boldest of the three, sharing her adventurous spirit.
Now Crenelle emerged. She had evidently held back, until sure of the visitors. She cupped her mouth to call. “How is it you come, and not Craft?”
“I had a wild change of heart. He didn’t.” Rebel glanced to Keeper. “This is Harbinger’s sister Crenelle, who almost married Craft. But it didn’t work out.”
“I know,” Keeper said. He was here nominally to protect Rebel, and with the dogs he was quite capable of doing that. But she suspected that he was more than slightly curious about Crenelle, about whom he had heard from all four of his older siblings.
Crenelle seemed just as curious about Keeper, but wary. Twice she had been ready to marry his brothers, and twice they had left her despite being greatly attracted. Keeper was a year younger than Crenelle, so was of less interest, but Rebel knew the woman was not one to let any possibility pass by without close inspection.
Harbinger squatted and drew a boat out from under the house where there was a low channel. He held it while Crenelle stepped in and took her place at the front, kneeling. Then he climbed into the back. Both lifted stout paddles and stroked the craft forward across the water.
Soon they reached the landing. The dogs drew forward, their ears laid back. “Don’t move,” Rebel said. “Just stay there in the boat.”
Both Harbinger and Crenelle looked uncomfortable. “If you will sit still while the dogs sniff you, they will let you be,” Keeper said. “But don’t make any sudden gesture that might be taken as a threat to me.”
“Tame wolves!” Crenelle said. “I never saw that before. What do they do?”
“They protect us,” Rebel said. “And they help us hunt.”
“The Others don’t let us hunt much,” Harbinger said darkly. “Anything larger than a rabbit, and they will come for us.”
“But aren’t you protected by the island?” Keeper asked.
“Not against a siege. They could make a raft if they wanted to. They know how, but don’t trust large waters. It’s better not to give them cause.”
“But there were no Others here before,” Rebel protested.
“They returned. They range widely. Once we traded with them, but I think the Other woman who did it died. Now they merely tolerate us.”
“Well, if I am to marry Harbinger, I’ll want more hides than rabbits provide,” Rebel said.
Harbinger didn’t speak, so Crenelle did. “Get in the boat, come into our house. Settle by the fire, and we’ll talk.”
“We must bring the dogs,” Keeper said.
“Put the wolves in the boat with us? They wouldn’t like that any better than we would.”
“They have been in boats before,” Keeper reassured her. “They know your smell now, and understand that we are friends. It will be all right.”
Rebel got carefully into the boat behind Crenelle, and Keeper got in ahead of Harbinger. They laid their spears on the boat’s floor. It was a close fit, but they made a space between them. Then they gestured to the dogs. In a moment all three had scrambled into the space.
Silently, Harbinger and Crenelle paddled the craft around and back out to sea. It floated low in the water now, but was strongly made and not in danger of sinking. The dogs peered out across the water, evidently enjoying the experience.
They crossed to the island. There was a snug harbor there, just wide enough for the boat, holding it steady. Crenelle stepped out, then held on to a bar on the house and extended her free hand to Rebel. Rebel stood and got out, steadied by the hand, and stood beside the boat. Then she signaled the dogs, who scrambled out to join her. After that Keeper and Harbinger got out, and Harbinger slid the boat the rest of the way under the house.
Keeper looked around. “Is there anything dangerous on the island?”
“Nothing but us,” Crenelle said cheerfully. “It’s barren.”
Rebel hoped her wince didn’t show. “Go,” she said to the dogs. They bounded away, gladly exploring the terrain.
They went to the hearth on the other side of the house, where there was an open region, and Crenelle produced some dried rabbit meat and some fermented juice. Also some scrap bones for the dogs as they returned, who quickly warmed to her. The woman was not stupid; she appreciated both the danger and the help the dogs could be to her and her brother, so was already cultivating them in much the way she cultivated men.
“Now we need to understand each other,” Crenelle said. “When you were here with Craft, you didn’t let my brother near you. Are you teasing him now?”
Rebel shook her head. “I know how he raped my elder sister. No one will ever rape me. I thought it best to make that clear at the outset, lest blood be shed. But then I heard him sing.”
“Ah.” Crenelle glanced at her brother. Then they brought out the drum and flute, and sang and played. Rebel loved it, and saw that Keeper was also rapt. Of course Crenelle was also doing her thing with the bouncing breasts and partly glimpsed crotch, so he had plenty to occupy his attention. But the dogs were also listening, surprised. Maybe it sounded like howling to them, which was no bad thing.
“Yes, like that,” Rebel agreed when they were done. “I realized that there was more to you both than hunting and foraging. And you do those things well too.”
“Still, you can understand why my brother is wary of you.” Crenelle held a tempting bit of bone and sinew out toward the nearest dog, Whitepaw, who was similarly wary. The implication was that Harbinger might be amenable, given sufficient reassurance.
“I need to explain two things,” Rebel said. “The first is that I will always be my own woman. I will not be raped, I will not be dominated. But the man I marry will find me good company, and competent.”
“You brought down that beest,” Crenelle agreed, referring to a prior hunt when Rebel had wielded a spear like a man. “You can use a weapon.”
“I can use a weapon,” Rebel agreed. “And I like action. So I can be good for a man who doesn’t mind an aggressive woman.” She got to her feet, and removed her cloak. In this warm weather she wore no under-clothing, so for the moment she stood naked. She turned in the light of the fire, showing off what she knew was as good a body as they were likely to see. “Very good.”
She saw Harbinger’s tongue run around his lips. He did appreciate her physical qualities, as she intended. Crenelle was good at impressing men, but Rebel knew she herself was better, when she wanted to be. She sat down, remaining nude, and folded her legs under her. Everything was in plain view. Her brother, knowing her, ignored it, and the dogs hardly cared.
But she did need to explain. “The music impressed me, and I began to reconsider. But it was time for Craft to stay, or go, and when he went I had to go with him. I thought I would forget, or find another interest. But instead of fading, the feeling grew, until I knew I wanted Harbinger. But on my own terms, of course. So I have come to accomplish this.”
“You say you want to marry my brother,” Crenelle said. “You know that we require a rape to start that. Harbinger expects to rape his bride, and I expect to be raped by my groom. This has been a point of difficulty between us. Your brothers didn’t want to rape me, and you don’t want to be raped by my brother. So we are at an impasse.” Meanwhile, Whitepaw had finally yielded, and taken the bone from the woman’s hand. The dog was being secondarily tamed.
“Why can’t you just change that difficult aspect?” Rebel asked.
“Why can’t you?”
It was an apt retort. She had no apt counter, so she changed the subject. “Now about the Others. If they won’t let us hunt, we’ll have to be rid of them. Are there many here?”
“Three men,” Harbinger said. “Two of them have women who don’t hunt or fight, and the third may be a brother. They have territories, just as we do, and this land by the lake is theirs. If we could be rid of them, other Others would probably leave us alone, because we would have won the territory.”
“Now we have two men,” Rebel said. “And two women. And three dogs.” She stroked Brownback, and saw that Whitepaw now accepted Crenelle’s touch on her back. “So we outnumber their three men.”
“We don’t,” Harbinger said. “They are faster and stronger than we are, and can throw their spears farther. Even if we wounded one, we would not dare close in for the kill, because of their power. We would need two men to their one, to fight them, and even that would be uncertain. Three to one would be better.”
Now Keeper spoke. “We discussed this with Hero and Craft. They agreed that we could not match the Others in a physical contest with even numbers. But they said the Others are stupid about planning ahead, and that’s where we can prevail.”
“Plan all you want to,” Harbinger said. “But two men and two women can’t match three Other men.”
“It may not be easy, but with the right tactics, we should be able to do it,” Keeper insisted.
But it was plain that Harbinger was not convinced. Neither was Crenelle.
“I think we’ll have to show them,” Rebel said. “Harbinger, how far can you throw a spear?”
“Accurately? To that rock.” The man indicated a stone several paces distant.
“And how far can an Other man throw?”
“To that rock.” Harbinger indicated one several paces farther. There was a steep dirt bank beside it. “So we would be dead before we could hope to score.”
Keeper stood. He picked up his spear, together with a stick about half the length of the spear. He held the stick beside the spear, as if preparing to throw the two of them together. “The bank, not the rock,” he said. “I don’t want to ruin a good spear.” He took careful aim, and hurled them at the farther bank.
The stick unfolded and dropped down, not flying. But the spear sailed for the bank, and scored on it at about a man’s chest height. The point was embedded in the dirt; it was a good hard throw.
Harbinger’s jaw dropped. “You are smaller than I am, and less muscular. How can you do that?”
Keeper held up the short stick. “This is a spear-thrower my brother Craft made. He learned it from another craftsman. He taught me and Rebel how to use it, so that we would be the equals of those who are of stouter physique than we are. It enables us to throw a spear significantly farther than we could otherwise, because it has the effect of extending the arm. Of course we had to practice; it takes time to master the technique.” He paused, glancing sidelong at Harbinger. “Do you think this will help against the Others?”
Harbinger remained amazed. “It might. Can—?”
Rebel stepped up with her spear and throwing stick. She hurled the spear at the same bank. It struck lower, and with less force than her brother’s had, but still would have hit and injured a man at that range. The thrower gave her power no woman could otherwise muster.
“Could I. . .?”
Rebel handed him her stick, while Keeper went to recover the two spears. “You will need some help to manage it, the first time.”
“I don’t need help!”
“As you wish.” She watched as he took his spear from Keeper and tried to fit it to the throwing stick. It didn’t work; the spear and stick fell apart immediately.
“This doesn’t—”
She smiled. “Because your spear isn’t made for it. Try mine. It has a hole for the hook.”
Harbinger shut his mouth and let her exchange spears, and fit the hook on the end of the throwing stick into the depression in the end of the spear. Then she showed him how to grip the two together, and make a special hurling motion that allowed the stick to extend the reach of the arm double and add force to the throw. She stood close before him, guiding his right hand with her left, gratified by his confusion of manner and gaze. She was still naked.
He tried it. The spear missed the bank and plowed into the ground.
“I prefer the old way,” he said, disgruntled.
“It does take time,” Keeper agreed. “We put many spears into the ground before we got the hang of it. We hope that this will make us both competent to help in the campaign.”
“What campaign?” Harbinger asked.
“The one to secure this good region for us. To drive the Others away.”
“You two may be able to throw your spears well, but that doesn’t make us a match for three Other men.”
“You forget the dogs,” Rebel said. “They will attack the Others, on Keeper’s command.”
Harbinger was surprised again. “They will?”
Rebel smiled and dragged a small log to lie before the nearer rock. Then she stepped back.
Keeper touched the lead dog, Brownback. He pointed at the log. “Attack!”
All three dogs charged for the log, growling and biting savagely at it.
“Quit!” Keeper called.
The dogs left off the attack, and returned to him, their tails wagging.
Harbinger nodded. “This becomes impressive.”
“One other thing,” Keeper said. He turned to Rebel. “Rebel, if you would.”
She smiled. She took up her spear and made a threatening motion toward the dogs. They immediately growled and scattered.
“They know the danger!” Crenelle said, surprised.
“Yes. I don’t like my animals getting hurt.”
“Truly impressive,” Harbinger said.
“If you marry me,” Rebel said, “my brother will train some dogs for you, who will obey your commands and no others.” She set down the spear, and Brownback returned to her for stroking.
“But you will not be raped.”
“Indeed I will not,” she agreed. “But there may be a way, if you are interested.”
“I am interested. You are a fine-looking woman. But—”
“But there is a catch,” she said. “I am barren.”
He stared at her. “Impossible!”
Rebel returned to sit by the fire, and the others settled down around it, letting her handle this her own way. She was privately pleased that he could not believe that a body like hers could be infertile. “Do you really wish to know?”
Harbinger nodded. “You rejected me before, and I stayed clear of you, because if I raped you, you would hate me and try to maim or kill me. Now you return and tell me you wish to marry me, but will not be raped, and are barren. You parade naked before me, inciting my lust. I doubt I will ever see a more desirable woman than you are at this moment. If you are angry with me, and wish to make me suffer, you are succeeding. I would take you this moment, if you told me you truly wanted it. You wouldn’t even have to resist, as long as you didn’t cooperate. But I fear you want me to try, and you will sweep up a knife and try to gut me, because I gave you a pretext. So I can’t touch you or trust you. But I admit you are torturing me, and I want to know why.”
There was the ring of sincerity to his words. She liked him better than ever. But she had to tell him the truth. “Then hear this: I was angry with you before, because you raped my sister Haven. But she never condemned you, and I think would have stayed with you, had her baby lived. As I came to know you, I understood about the rape; it is your way. Apart from that you are a good man, worthy of marriage. But just as you will not marry without rape, I will not submit to it.”
She took a breath. Now came the hard part. “Part of the reason I refuse to be raped is that I thought I would never marry. Because no man would want me. So I made a thing of it, pretending that it was I who was refusing to be dominated by a man. But as I came to know you, I came to like you. To want to marry you. That is why I am preparing for the pain of being rejected by you. Because I am indeed barren. I know it. I have tried with more men than I can name, more times than I can count, more ways than I can remember. I can get any man I choose to have sex with me, and he will not leave off until I tell him to, being endlessly potent, though he cry for mercy. I confess I enjoyed showing my power over men at an early age. Before I had breasts I could get men into me, when I tried. After I got breasts I didn’t even have to try. At first I feared getting a baby in my belly; then I thought I deserved it, for being wanton, and would have to marry whichever man put it into me. But at last I realized that no man could put a baby into me. It would have happened by now, if it were possible. I am eighteen, and have been doing it since I was ten, with grown men as well as youths. Most of them have fathered children elsewhere. So I am barren, and if you marry me, you will never have children. I will never remain home and passive; I will be out helping you explore and hunt, in my fashion. That is the punishment the spirits will visit on you for taking your pleasures with the likes of me.”
She took another breath, and stroked Brownback. Harbinger was immobile. “So if you will not marry me, I will understand. In that case you can have me without rape, knowing it is not marriage, by your definition, and in due course we will part company, as has already happened twice with my brothers and your sister.” She cupped her breasts, then stroked her spread thighs, once more calling his attention to her assets. “Everything is as good as it looks, and I am no timid child. I have not shown you this merely to tease you; I will deliver in full measure. I will wear you out in a manner my sister could not. When we sleep, I will wake you with passion. When I am bored, as I often am, I will turn to you for something novel. When we go out on a hunt, I will give you silent sex while we lie in wait for an animal. It will never be dull. But if you still wish to marry me, we shall have to address the matter of how it can be possible, given our incompatible strictures about the initiation of it.” Now she was done.
There was a silence. Crenelle and Keeper stayed well out of it, though Rebel could see by the way they both fidgeted that her discussion had turned them on. She feared she had turned Harbinger off, however, and she truly regretted it, because she really did like him. But she couldn’t marry him on a false pretense. He had to know the price of the joy she would bring him. He had to know just how aggressive she was, in sex and other things. That had already driven away a number of otherwise amenable men.
At last Harbinger spoke. “If there were deaths elsewhere, orphaning children, would you adopt them?”
She had never thought of that. She could have a family, by such means. He had come up with the answer. In so doing, he was agreeing tacitly to marry her, when it could be arranged.
“Yes.” And she had similarly agreed to marry him.
There was another silence. The decision had been made, but they still didn’t know how to accomplish it.
“I think you could kiss him,” Crenelle said. “As long as he doesn’t touch you.” Keeper nodded agreement.
“How can I kiss him without touching him?”
“Like this.” Crenelle shifted her position. Then she leaned over and kissed Keeper, with no more than their mouths touching. He was so surprised he froze, which helped make it work. Crenelle completed her kiss and resumed her former position, looking a bit smug. “You touch him, not he you.”
Good idea. Rebel got up, went around to Harbinger, bent down, and kissed him languorously on the mouth. They did not embrace.
Then she fetched her cloak and donned it, concealing her body. The time for temptation was past. “Now we must plan the campaign,” she said briskly, glancing at her brother.
Keeper nodded, coming out of his trance, and began speaking, describing the strategy Craft had instilled in him. And slowly Harbinger’s doubt converted to agreement.
That night the men slept on one side, the women on the other, with Keeper and Rebel adjacent. Neither Harbinger nor Rebel wanted any misunderstanding in the darkness, and though it was evident that Keeper found Crenelle highly intriguing, the woman was just as evidently less interested. She had vamped him on general principle, but had now turned off the glimpses. He just wasn’t enough of a man for her. That was too bad, because Keeper was sensitive and loyal and competent with animals and plants, a good man for any woman.
In the morning they completed their preparations and went out on the campaign. The women bound up their hair and smeared dirt on their faces, trying to make themselves look more masculine, because the Others would not fight women. That did not mean they had no use for them, but the use was not kind. A straight fast death was preferable.
They took bolos, which were thongs weighted with solid bones, and one spear each. Then they set out for the nearby beest pasture, without the men. They used the second boat that was normally tied on the other side of the island, kept in reserve. They landed where Crenelle indicated, and hid the boat in bushes. The rest of this mission would be on foot.
In due course they reached the pasture, where a fair herd of beests was grazing. The beests paid them little attention, knowing the difference between human beings and Others. Only the Others had hunted them hitherto.
They selected a suitable calf who had strayed a bit too far from its dam. They walked slowly toward it, so as not to spook it prematurely. Its ears twitched; it was aware of them, but not yet concerned enough to leave its good grazing patch.
They went into confusion mode: they separated, and when the beest turned its head toward one, the other advanced. The motion was always at the fringe its vision. In that manner they were able to get within bola range.
Finally the beest spooked. But as it leaped to join its dam and the herd, Rebel threw her bola. Her aim was good, and the three weighted cords wrapped around the beest’s hind legs, entangling them and bringing it down. It struggled and kicked, and the bola dropped away—but then Crenelle hurled her bola, entangling it again.
By the time it got free of the second bola, they were upon it, thrusting with their spears. It squealed as Crenelle stabbed it in the haunch, but the sound cut off as Rebel got it in the throat. It kicked wildly, thrashed its head about, bled copiously, and died.
Meanwhile the herd spooked, and charged away from there. Rebel knew that would alert the Others, who understood the habits of animals. She felt a cold chill, but had confidence in their plan. They recovered their bolas and tied them to their waists.
“We make pretty good hunters,” Crenelle said with satisfaction as they drew their knives for the butchering. “I hope you do marry my brother.”
“I have something in mind,” Rebel said. “Are you interested in Keeper?” She knew the answer, but wanted to promote her brother’s case, because Crenelle would make a good wife for him.
“I can’t say I am. He’s too young, and hardly taller than I am.”
“But he does have a way with animals, and he understands plants.”
“What’s to understand about a plant?”
“If you get sick, he knows which ones can help. If you can’t find regular forage, he knows which ones can be eaten if properly harvested and prepared. He has helped others that way.”
“All of which makes him seem like an old woman.”
Rebel shrugged. Some women didn’t appreciate gentleness or foraging ability in a man. It was stupid, but she understood it, because she was one of those women. She was Keeper’s sister, and felt a kind of responsibility for him, but were she not his sister she would as readily dismiss him. Only as his sister could she appreciate his worthwhile qualities. Crenelle was Rebel’s age, and could hardly be blamed for being less impressed with a younger man. Yet the two would indeed be good for each other.
They proceeded with their butchery, stripping the good hide and dismembering the carcass. These things took time to do properly, and they took that time, though Rebel was suppressing the urge to flee. She knew that the Others would be on their way.
Indeed they were. Three men came striding across the plain, not trying to conceal themselves. They had spied illicit hunters, and were coming to punish the poachers.
“Take what you can, and flee,” Rebel said tersely.
“To the nearest forest,” Crenelle agreed.
Rebel bundled the hide, and Crenelle took a haunch. The rest they had to leave. “It seems a shame to do all this work, and leave it to the Others,” Rebel said.
“But if our plan is successful, we’ll be able to come back for it.”
They ran. The Others were now uncomfortably close. But the women had gauged it so that they would be able to reach the forest first. If they miscalculated, there would be mischief indeed. But it had to be played close enough to allay suspicion.
Soon they were panting, and the Others were closing the gap. “Ditch the meat!” Rebel cried.
“Ditch the hide!” Crenelle retorted. But in a moment they both dumped their loads in the interest of increased speed. Perhaps the stuff would distract the pursuers.
It didn’t. The Others were well aware of what came first: dealing with the enemy. Now the sound of their rough breathing was audible, as they continued to gain.
The two women reached the forest and got under the cover of the trees. The Others came right after them, having no fear of trees. They were frighteningly fast on their feet. In a moment they would catch hold of the women. They might even catch on to their nature, and commence raping designed to inflict maximum pain and injury. It was probably just a spook story, but Others were said to have ripped human women open by the size and force of their penetration, leaving their hips disjointed.
There was a thud and a scream. Rebel turned her head to see. One Other was down, and the two remaining were pausing, glaring around to locate the source of the mischief.
That was Harbinger’s spear. He had hurled it from ambush and caught the Other in the side. Now he was lifting another spear. There was no sign of Keeper or the dogs.
The two Others charged the man. That allowed Rebel and Crenelle to slow, catching their breath. The first part of their plan had worked; now the three Others were two. The third man was not dead, but he was evidently not in any condition to fight.
Harbinger hurled his second spear. His aim was good, but the Other dodged it. Now Harbinger had no spear, while the Others still had theirs.
“Get out of there, brother!” Crenelle whispered. She knew, as Rebel did, that Harbinger would be no match for even one armed Other.
Harbinger turned and fled, with the two Others in pursuit. He could run faster than the women could, so the gap between them did not close rapidly. The Others did not throw their spears, preferring to run him down rather than risk a miss of an unevenly moving target. Others were very conservative fighters, and deadly because of it. Meanwhile Rebel and Crenelle were making their way swiftly through the forest to the next planned rendezvous. Because one Other down was not enough; they needed to take out another, before they could feel confident of victory.
They came to the spot, and hid behind a large tree, holding their bolas ready. The man was leading the Others in a wide circle back to this spot. This was the second ambush point. It was a natural path passing between large trees.
They heard the men coming. Harbinger was running well, and Rebel admired that, but the Others were running better, and were now close behind him. Soon one would throw his spear, and it would score.
Then the three dogs charged out from the opposite side of the path, growling. They passed right by Harbinger and closed on the Others. They were trained to attack only strangers, and their night with Harbinger had made him familiar.
The Others paused, plainly astonished. Wolves did not attack men! But they readied their spears to handle this new menace. Here, again, their caution proved this value: they were ready for this unexpected menace.
A spear flew from the side. That was Keeper, using his spear-thrower from out of sight. The range was too far and it missed, but it made the Others pause again. Another enemy? How many were there? That gave the dogs time to close on them.
The Others were no cowards. They held their spears, facing the dogs. But when they made ready to throw, the dogs growled and scattered. The Others stared, surprised again. This was not wolf behavior.
“Now,” Rebel murmured. The two women emerged from concealment as the Others were facing away. They were quite close, because of the choice of location and cover. They threw their bolas at the nearest Other.
One bola wrapped around the man’s head and arms. The other wrapped around his legs. He made an exclamation of amazement and dismay, fighting the strange attacker. The dogs, seeing him incapacitated, turned and charged from three directions.
Keeper emerged with his second spear. He hurled it at the entangled man, who was unable to dodge. The spear caught him in the chest. He groaned and went down. The dogs pounced on him, going for any likely spot. He was done for.
The third Other stared for a moment at Keeper, not understanding the mechanism of the spear-thrower. Then he hurled his spear at Keeper. But he was beyond effective range, and Keeper was alert; he was able to dodge it. The Other had made a tactical mistake, being distracted by the odd attacks.
The Other drew his knife and charged Keeper. But Keeper called to the dogs, and they left off their attack and bounded back toward him. Meanwhile Harbinger was running back, his own knife drawn, and the two women were also advancing. Because the women were emulating men, this made the group seem like four men and three wolves closing on one man.
The Other, realizing that the odds had changed, reversed his course and ran back the way he had come—right at Harbinger, who tried to turn and orient. The Other was on him in a moment, striking with his closed left hand, hard, more rapidly than a man could move. Harbinger was rocked back, jarred but not hurt. He tripped and fell on his back.
The Other ran on so swiftly that none of them could stop him, or catch him. He was gone. Keeper did not let the dogs pursue him; they were likely to get killed by themselves.
“But we got two of them,” Rebel cried with satisfaction. She caught Harbinger, who was just sitting up, and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then she was up and away, leaving him bemused.
“I think now they will leave,” Crenelle said. “Not just because one man is not enough to hold the territory. Because of the way we did it, with the bolas and the dogs and the spear-thrower. They don’t understand these things, and they avoid what they don’t understand. That third one will carry the word back, and they will go.”
Harbinger nodded. “These are good things.”
Well satisfied, they saw to the mopping up. The entangled Other was dead in grisly fashion. They stripped him of anything useful and left the body there for his kin to find. The other Other was alive, but gravely wounded; Harbinger dispatched him with a swift spear throw from close range. They stripped him similarly, and went on to recover the beest hide and meat. It had been a very good day.
They hauled the meat to the boats, now able to take all of it. When Rebel worked beside Keeper, she spoke quietly to him. “Would you like to have Crenelle?”
“Yes!” There was evidently no doubt in his mind.
“I may be able to steer her to you. Take whatever she offers.”
“I will. She’s—she’s almost as good as you are.”
Rebel flushed, caught by surprise. But it was a fair comparison, for she and Crenelle did seem to have more than age in common. If Keeper desired a woman who was similar to his wild sister, Rebel was flattered.
By the time they got everything back to the house, the day was fading. They cooked and ate some of the meat, and settled down for the night. Harbinger, fatigued from his hard running, was the first asleep. He was lying prone, snoring, with only his cloak as a cover.
Rebel caught the attention of the other two and made a signal of silence. Crenelle and Keeper looked at her perplexed, and did not speak. This had been a day of such adventure that they were perhaps numb to one more oddity. Rebel took thongs and knelt beside the sleeping man. Slowly, carefully, she lifted his arms behind him, and bound his wrists together. Then she did the same for his feet. She made sure the knots were secure; he was helpless. And still sound asleep.
Keeper and Crenelle watched, not comprehending her purpose. Crenelle’s hand was on her knife; she would act if Rebel threatened actual harm to her brother. Brownback lay quietly, but he was watching the woman; he knew what a knife was, too, and he would attack it if it came near Rebel. But for the moment Crenelle was mostly curious what the point was. Keeper, however, was just beginning to understand that this related to what Rebel had told him privately.
Then Rebel stripped away her clothing and approached the sleeping man again. She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him over. She tore open his loose cloak, laying his body open to view. His eyes flickered open.
“Now you are mine,” she said, taking hold of his penis and kneading it, forcing it to react. She knelt and brought her face to his, kissing him. “You are helpless. I will possess you, and you can’t resist.” She lay against him, pressing her torso against his, flattening her breasts against his chest. “You can do nothing. You are subject to my will—this first time.”
Now Crenelle caught on. She licked her lips, half smiling.
Then Rebel set herself on him, and guided his erect penis into her. Brownback watched, but was aware that the woman was not the one being attacked. The dogs had seen sex often enough, and didn’t care. Rebel pushed down with her belly while kissing him again. “I am raping you,” she said, lifting her body slightly, then jamming down hard. “You may struggle, but you can’t escape me. I will have my will of you.”
And in a moment she did. She felt him pulsing within her. That sensation set her off, and her own climax came, long and slow and delicious. She kissed him repeatedly, savoring it. He did not try to avoid any of it.
When at last she cooled, he was limp. But she wasn’t quite through with him. “Now I will release you, if you promise not to flee. This rape has been accomplished, and we are married. Do you accept it?”
For the first time, he spoke. “Yes.” He had accepted the reverse rape in lieu of the regular one. She had not been raped, and never would be.
She got off him and rolled him back over. She untied his hands, and then his feet. She glanced across at Crenelle and Keeper, almost hidden in the darkness. “And you two witnessed this. Rape and marriage. It is done.”
“Yes,” Crenelle agreed, her voice sounding awed.
“Yes,” Keeper said, similarly awed. He had seen his sister indulge in wild moments, but this was beyond any past exploit.
Rebel lay beside Harbinger, holding his hand. She had accomplished her primary purpose. What about the secondary one?
“Do you want me to rape you similarly?” Crenelle asked Keeper, humor in her voice.
“Yes.”
“Forget it. You will have to do your own raping. I am not that desperate.”
“I almost could, if you wanted it.”
“No. You are too young for me. But that scene got me hot. I will be with you, this night, without marriage.”
“Yes.” No hesitancy there.
She started to embrace him, but the third dog, Toughtail, growled warningly. “You will have to put aside the knife,” Keeper said.
“Done.” Crenelle set her knife down beside Whitepaw, who eyed it warily.
Then the two of them were at it, while Rebel lay beside Harbinger. So she had indeed succeeded there too, to a degree. She had known Crenelle would like the reverse rape, and be sexually excited by it. There really was no person for her to turn to except Keeper. But women were unpredictable, so Crenelle’s decision had been in doubt.
“Do you want more?” Rebel asked Harbinger.
“Not right now.”
“You don’t mind that I’m barren?”
“Not now.”
She snuggled against him, and they slept. In the night she dreamed, not of sex, but of what they had accomplished. They had organized in a way the dull Others could not, and used all their resources to conquer their enemy. Because of weapons made by Craft and taught to herself and Keeper. Craft could make anything he set his mind to. But he lacked the time to do a lot, because of the other requirements of living.
But suppose he could spend his whole time doing what he loved, making things? How much more could he accomplish? Suppose Hero could spend his whole time hunting and fighting; how good at it would he get? And Haven, who liked cooking and other dull chores; suppose she could cook all the time, freeing women like Rebel to do what they most liked? She could dance naked all the time for gaping men, making them eager to plumb their mates. What a wonderful life it would be!
But it was only a dream, impossible in real life. She turned over and wandered into other dreams. But she did not forget this one.
In the morning Rebel woke Harbinger by rubbing against him until he reacted, and they had more sex. Then she broached a key question: “We can’t stay here; it’s not our way. Do we travel north or south?”
“North,” he said. “I like cold winters.”
“I like hot summers.”
“I don’t want to fight you. You might rape me again.”
“No, only the first time. After that you can’t resist.”
“My sister will travel with me, wherever I go. Will your brother travel with you?”
“Yes. And my other brothers will join us.”
“Then let them decide.”
Rebel was amenable, so she called across to the other pair. “Hey, stop whatever you’re doing and answer this: Do we travel north or south?”
“North,” Crenelle’s muffled voice came. There was laughter in it.
“South,” Keeper said.
This was going to be a problem.
Mankind went both north and south from there, and probably west too, in a returning ripple intersecting the already-populated areas. North took him along the coast of Asia, through China and eastern Siberia, and ultimately to the Americas. South took him across the sea to New Guinea and Australia, and later to the myriad Pacific islands.
The actual pace of the development of technology is uncertain, because very little other than the stone tools and weapons survived the dissolution of time. But there were surely equivalent advances in woodworking, leatherworking, and weaving. The bola was known at this time, and the atlatl, or spear-thrower, could have been known too. Certainly modern mankind displaced Erectus, who faded from the world despite having dominated it for almost two million years. Probably because the technology and planning of the moderns made them superior warriors, and shrewder users of natural resources.
At this time the full flowering of mankind’s culture and technology had not yet occurred. That was to be brought about not long thereafter, however, by a single significant idea that took some time to gain acceptance. This was Rebel’s dream: organized specialization. To share resources to such an extent that many members of a band could concentrate on what they were best at, without being denied food or shelter or the pleasures of the opposite gender. This idea may seem obvious to the folk of today, but could hardly have been obvious to those who had survived all prior challenges by being consummate generalists. It was never grasped by Erectus or Neandertal, though they did have the rudiments. Four hundred thousand years ago they could make fine balanced wooden spears, and chip hand axes efficiently from large anvil stones. But that was as far as it went; they left the axes lying on the ground when through with the specific task for which they had been chipped. What mankind did was a special type of specialization, accomplished by adult individuals within the framework of an organized culture of a supremely generalistic species. The social revolution preceded the technological one. Any human person could assume any specialist role, and become proficient therein.
In contrast, an animal will always live the type of life for which it is destined by heredity. A young rabbit will not become a predator, and a tiger will not survive by grazing on grass. Some species, like the ants and termites, do have specialist members, but they are locked in to their roles, the queen always laying the eggs, the warriors always guarding and fighting, the workers always working. Bee workers seem to be able to assume some different roles in the course of their lives, but they will never become swimmers, or scholars, or entrepreneurs. Neandertal specialized physically for the cold climate of Europe, and thereby limited himself. Erectus adapted to his own terrain, never feeling the need to change his environment much. Only human beings, with the ultimate tool for generalization, the reasoning brain, can specialize in everything. Because of that discovery, mankind became rapidly far more efficient in most of his pursuits, improving his safety and food supply, enabling him to increase his population enormously.
When the idea of specialization became accepted, it had a profound effect on human society. In fact, it led to the relatively rapid improvement of all the arts and crafts. For the first time there was leisure to develop the crafts as arts rather than occasional diversions. Stone knappers advanced their technology, and painters became highly proficient, and hunters developed their skills beyond anything possible before. Not only did they do more, they did better, perfecting tools to make other tools, learning to use symbolism well beyond that of word = object, a process leading ultimately to the computer age.
Thus the age of the generalist gave way to the age of the specialist individual, protected by the generalist tribe. By 40,000 years ago mankind was in full leap forward, on the way to the remarkable accomplishments we see today. Mankind has not changed much physically or mentally in the past hundred thousand years, but has instead developed social dynamics and sophisticated technical mechanisms that have changed much of the environment to suit his inclination. All because of an idea that may have originated in southeast Asia, and rippled out to the rest of the globe, reaching Australia, Europe, and Africa, transforming the entire human culture, and the world. Rebel’s dream.
Meanwhile, the dog really does turn out to be man’s oldest and best friend. Probably first domesticated in Africa, the tamed wolf traveled with man wherever he went, including Australia as the dingo, and North America as the Carolina Dog, with ginger-colored coat and fox-like face, which may be closest to the original stock. The enormous variety of types dates from relatively recently, perhaps the last 20,000 years. But surely the dog was serving man well throughout, and might indeed have been the difference that enabled mankind to oust the relatives of Erectus from dominion of the world. A human man might have been puny compared to Erectus, but a man and a dog would have been more formidable.