Chapter 7

Mekemlah stirred the haft of the cudgel-like barana through the brush next to Sieis, and found the bundle of tied-up armor when the haft clacked against it….He lifted the armor off the forest floor by one of the roots holding it together, then glared down upon Sieis below him, "….You lied."

"I—" Mekemlah hit Sieis with the bundle of armor.

Raising the armor again to threaten him, "….You will say how you got it out of this 'skin'…." Sieis protected his head with his arm, looking right out the corner of his eye to where two more Bantons stood over the spot where Catherine had fallen after being struck.

The brown banton dropped a bloodied stick into the brush, "….Is it moving?…." Mekemlah was distracted by the others….His face had turned to them.

"It is not, but we can hear it breathing."

"Don't touch it….In case it is sick," Mekemlah's eyes dropped and his face turned down to Sieis, the banton's glare narrowing his red and gold eyes, "….Get up…." Sieis started to stand, "….How did you trick it out of its skin."

Sieis's answer was sullen, "….I did not trick it….It removed itself."

"Is it sick?" One of the other bantons looked over at him.

"I….I think so," Sieis continued the lie, knowing full well his Tortoi was not sick to be able to perform as it had in climbing and running before being caught by Mekemlah and the others, "….but I have been in contact with it," the others were listening carefully to him, "….I should be the one to stay in contact with it, to keep you all from whatever ails it to behave so oddly."

"Do you feel sick?"

"Not….yet….I am not sick as far as I can feel…." Mekemlah gave a curt nod and moved towards the others, carrying the armor and his barana with him….Sieis hesitantly followed.

"The girah will pick it up and carry the tortoi," Mekemlah tossed the armor to the brown banton, "….You, hold that, Arra….It may be valuable…." The brown banton named Arra turned the armor over in his hands, curiously exploring the parts through the tied roots and eyeballing it. Sieis was close enough to where the tortoi had collapsed, and he looked down through the brush to see her crumpled on the forest floor, eyes closed and a wet stain matting the back of her head of golden hair, "….Pick it up, Girah…." Mekemlah jerked his hand towards Sieis, and waved to the tortoi, "….Bring it to Mahanama, and we will learn how to kill these Tortois."

As he limped a little closer, his shoulder aching from where Mekemlah had cudgeled him, Sieis cautiously crouched and reached to set his hands about the tortoi….She appeared to be sleeping and the smell of metallic blood was rich with the added scents of her sweat, skin, hair, and breaths….He struggled with how to pick her up….She smelled strange and he did not want to touch her, but under the eyes of his peers, Sieis glanced upwards at them, then gripped her under her back and legs as he would carry his own son when he was sleeping, and lifted….Her limbs swung beneath her, her head hung back, mouth opening as the long tail of braided hair, tattered and wet with blood, fell from the nape of her neck….The maroon banton ventured a poke to her shoulder, "….Sutii ( Soft )."

"Good," Mekemlah looked at the maroon banton at this remark, "….if they are soft like Calicars, they will die easier….but we must learn how to get the tortois to remove their outer skins."

"Are we sure this is a tortoi?…." They all looked at Sieis who nodded.

"Only in this would I trust the girah's word," Mekemlah turned to the others.

"Will it be safe to bring it back to the tribe?…." Arra gestured to Catherine in Sieis's arms, "….Or could we expose everyone to its sickness, or worse?"

"Like when they burned Merinhuwa, with everyone's family members there," Arra and Mekemlah glanced at the maroon banton, and Sieis's eyes closed, "….I don't want that to happen again."

"I would think the tortois value their kindred," Mekemlah pointed to Catherine's face, "….They collect their kind to their hive like Arons do when these sting us and fall….I do not believe they would wish to destroy our village if doing so risked killing one of their own, and as for sickness," his red-gold eyes narrowed to Sieis, "….I doubt their illness will affect us."

"You should know," Sieis had opened his eyes to stare back defiantly at Mekemlah, "….You have always held knowledge of the tortois."

Mekemlah's eyes keened on him, as he raised his barana threateningly towards Sieis's face, "….You are misinformed as usual….You speak without wisdom, thus you will always be poor for leadership….You spread lies—"

"I am not the one who spreads lies…." Sieis's grip on Catherine squeezed her tighter to his chest, his anger rising.

"Stop arguing," the maroon banton intervened, handing Sieis's Quraba'a back to him from the forest floor, but Mekemlah took it.

"This does not belong—"

"It is my Quraba'a, meant for me from my father!…." Sieis jerked forward with Catherine, his teeth bared in a snarl, "….It belongs in my family—"

"Which is dead because of you—"

"You were the one who told me to send them all to Merinhuwa—You said it would be safe!—"

"That was your decision, not mine," Mekemlah waved the Quraba'a at him, "….A solid leader would have known that enemies change plans, and the tortois hit us where they knew we would be weakest. You made the choice for everyone. All who died that day died because you made the decision to send them on to the next village. I have not made the same mistake."

"It was you who advised me to—"

"You're right, and I only advised you on your options based on the information I had at the time," Mekemlah took the Quraba'a and slid it into his beltsash, "….You got yourself made into Girah only after you sent all of they in Merinhuwa to a death of fire and ash, beneath that hive that attacked."

Sieis's face tightened with rage, his canines baring towards the dark-blue banton, "….If it weren't for you, Mekemlah, you withheld—"

"He's not to blame," the maroon banton shook his head at Sieis, "….He did not make the order—You did, as Auna of our tribe. I lost cousins that day—youngsters that played with your own, Sieis, and I do not blame Mekemlah who gave you the information to the best that he knew. We have something here," his grey and yellow eyes flicked to Catherine's body, "….and we should be thinking how to use it against the enemy—our enemy. Not reliving the past of your mistake, Sieis…." Sieis looked down, hearing the wisdom in Vaula's words, words that were as close to their former kinship before Sieis's exile, "….Own what you have done, Sieis. Mekemlah did not order half the tribe to leave to their unknowing doom. None of us could foresee the cruelty of the tortois and what would happen….but the mistake is owned by you. And only you."

Defeated, Sieis nodded.

"Enough…." Mekemlah swung his barana to his shoulder, "….Let's go to the village. The least we can give this Girah as an 'appreciation' for his finding this Tortoi separated from its harder skin is a visit of his former home….and you can see how well it has been living under my direction, Girah."

With a pained and furrowed countenance, Sieis carried Catherine between Vaula and Arra, Mekemlah walking at Sieis's right a ways as the larger banton knocked the barana against his shoulder cap, and Sieis's Quraba'a was on Mekemlah's left hip, patted by Mekemlah's hand.

Vaula's words haunted Sieis, and he fell into brooding….His old friend was right.

The irony was that each of these bantons with him now had once been either his friend, a scout, or an advisor (as Mekemlah had been to Sieis's own father before he died)….They were his superiors now, and Sieis was inferior to them all….Few would forgive Sieis for having sent so many of their kindred, even his own young family, to their deaths….but Sieis had been too inexperienced to lead a tribe, and he had relied with faith on others who had served his father before him for answers….As the one making the decisions for everyone else, Sieis had to accept the weight of his consequences. He released a slow, angry, sorrowful breath through his nose.

No….These Tortois are to blame….and Na'va'na is punishing me for what I have done….He wanted to crush the tortoi in his arms but as he considered what that would cause in retribution from the others, what knowledge they would stand to lose, the tortoi turned her head and gave out a soft, pained moan.…Sieis's grip on her lessened, realizing he was crushing her with his tension, and he despaired at the quandary he was in.

At least he would be able to set foot in his former village again, and see some friendly faces that were empathetic to him, even if for a brief time….He glanced sideways at Mekemlah, tall and forward-walking, the new Auna of their tribe since Sieis had been banished.

The others respected him, and though it had been mainly Mekemlah's counseling that had persuaded Sieis to separate the tribe between Mahanama and Merinhuwa—which had been obliterated by the tortois—Mekemlah's cleverness was considered a quality desirable in their leaders, and he had soundly embarrassed and removed Sieis without even so much as a formal challenge of the descendant of the former Auna….Even Sieis had to admit, grudgingly, that Mekemlah was more worthy of leading the tribe than he himself had been in his short duration as Auna.

Mekemlah was a born leader. He was patient, experienced, what with having worked with Sieis's father for years and earned not only his father's trust, the tribe's and Sieis's clearly….He had only to get Sieis removed by the unanimous consent of the tribe, so Mekemlah could take over and achieve his ultimate ambition of becoming the Auna….He accomplished this….Sieis had lost favor with the surviving tribe members, and been exiled.

Sieis dropped his navy-gold eyes to Catherine's face.

And the root of the reason he had been ousted from his tribe, and murdered his family among others, was bringing him back home to it.