"They're coming, they're coming!"
The cries of the young scout running through the camp towards the elders circle rang through the air shrilly, acting like match setting alight the wick of fear and panic. Many terrified faces appeared from behind the animal skin tents, there was a sudden surge of movement, and Sarah had no choice but to cut dead her discussion with Thomas. For a second, the pair stared into the others face, a silent plan of action already formulating. They had grown up together as children, played together, foraged together, fished together, and when the time had come, they had decided to become hunters together, too. They worked so well when out on a hunt; as smooth as the river on a calm day, Elsie had said. That was somewhat true most of the time. Like all sibling relationships, though, there was always a tiny spark that, when lit, could cause havoc in their tiny, close knit village. They'd even had Chief Carson split them up once! When remembering that occasion, Sarah struggled to hold back a tiny smirk at the thought of Thomas walking around with a black eye for the following week.
No sooner was their eye contact broken had they both reached for their spears and slung their bows over their shoulders.
"The strangers are coming!"
The camp was in complete chaos; the villagers were running in every direction, grabbing food and supplies, some joining Thomas and Sarah with spears in their inexperienced hands.
"ENOUGH!"
Chief Carson's booming voice spilled out over the entire village, causing the panic to freeze. He was their leader, and in him they entrusted the lives of their children, their families, their friends, the whole camp. His voice was the light in the chaotic darkness, and when his wife, Elsie, appeared beside him, chin raised in defiance, Sarah couldn't help but allow herself to surf the wave of security that rippled through the now silent camp.
"Come forward son," Carson beckoned to the young scout, who moved forwards. "Now, tell me..."
"They have prepared their sticks of fire and thunder, they have readied their warriors with the beating of their drum of war... They are coming from the north, Chief, they will be here before the moon!"
The ripple of security faltered, and the chaos threatened to bubble over. Sarah's eyes glanced to the sky... They had nowhere near enough time to prepare for battle against these strange men.
"Then we are to leave!" came Carson's voice. "Pack only what you need! Our Eastern brothers will help prepare us for battle! Go!"
Sarah shared another glance with Thomas through the scrambling crowd of villagers. They were hunters, protectors, warriors... They did not run and hide. Sarah forced her way through the swarm of people, tugging at Carson's arm as he helped Elsie pack.
"Chief," Carson turned to her, and before she'd even asked the question, she knew his answer. "We will stay... To hold them off. It will give you more time to get everyone to safety." Thomas had already taken position at the village boundaries, pulling his bow from over his shoulder and positioning an arrow ready.
Carson gave a tiny sigh.
"You are not to linger, Sarah. The tribe needs yourself and Thomas in the days ahead... You are to return to us as soon as you are able."
Sarah nodded.
"Is there still no sign of Branson?"
"No, chief. No sign."
Carson snook his head sadly, and turned his face from her view. The atmosphere turned strange at the mention of the lost hunter, and Sarah clenched her fist in annoyance. Damn Branson, damn him! Because of his folly the whole camp was now in danger! These monstrous strangers from a distant land, with their strange, stone like clothes and their huge wooden beasts that surfed the waves of the sea like fish. What hope did they have against them? As if reading her thoughts, Carson turned and placed a gentle, aged hand on Sarah's shoulder.
"Be wary, Sarah. We have little understanding of these men, they are not to be trusted." He gave her a final nod, and Sarah watched as he joined Elsie in shepherding the last of the villagers into the shadows of the darkening forest. Sarah watched them disappear, taking with them the last threads of her security. She glanced northernly, her eyes locking onto the misty fog between the ancient trees, and she held back a giant shuddering of her body.
It was a familiar feeling, somewhat, before the start of a hunt. The twitch of her thighs and the curling of her toes, both aching to stretch and feel the rush of a burst of movement. The burning of her lower stomach and the tensing of her abdomen... But now there was something else... Something different. A stabbing in her throat and a clouding of her mind. They were both strangers to her usual routine before battle, she she didn't like them. They made her uneasy, and self consciously, her coarse fingers tightened around the wood of her spear. As she settled herself in position, a quick glance was shared with Thomas. She crouched gently, allowing her fingers to run over the dried earth at her feet.
How had it come to this? Each road, each choice that could possibly result in war had been taken, and now... Now she was preparing for battle, more than likely the final battle.