Dragonworld: The Will For Power

Part 12: The Warband

Homesick

It had been already two months since Pafe arrived in the village. He was slowly getting used to the new life. He had even managed to pick up the basics of the local language.

The tribe called themselves, if translated from their tongue, the People of the High Flying Birds. Birds had a special place in their traditions. They symbolized quickness, intelligence, and freedom. These were the three qualities highly prized among the inhabitants of the Forever Grass.

They were nomads, moving their livelihoods from one place to another. They could pack up their things quickly, load them up on horses, and displace themselves far and wide. The current village was there since many months ago. 

The people of the camp gave out the image of a joyful, even careless attitude towards life. They always had a smile on their faces, finding time to sing and play whenever they could.

However, Pafe noticed life wasn't as peaceful there as it originally appeared. Day in and day out, he saw small parties of warriors gallop away. They would come back later, often bloodied, once in a while missing one or two warriors.

He learned the tribe was in a state of conflict with some of the neighboring tribes. While the inhabitants seemed carefree on the outside, deep down the anxiety was eating them up.

While on one of his wanderings around camp, Pafe came across one of the village elders. He struck up a conversation with the man, who was only glad to share his knowledge. 

"At any time, a raiding party could appear. Three years ago, warriors of the Shawa tribe attacked. At the time, the tent village was standing a distance of three days walk away from its present location," explained the elder. 

"What happened?" Pafe was curious to know more. 

"On that day, a third of the High Flying Bird warriors had departed on a patrol. The Shawa took advantage of this to attack in full force. A fierce battle ensued. Many people died that time, but the enemy was beaten back and suffered enormous loses," added the old man. 

After this short exchange, the elder said his goodbye and continued onto his tent. Pafe was left standing in place. 

"Here. I noticed your cloth wrap around your eye is dirty. Here's a new one," Singing with Birds came from behind and handed him a cloth. Her six year old son was scrambling behind her. 

"Thank you. I am grateful for your help," remarked Pafe. Then he smiled at the little kid, who shyly ran away. 

After watching her son disappear behind some of the tents, Singing with Birds turned to face Pafe: "My husband is heading out with the war party onto the plains today. He wanted me to ask you whether you needed anything?"

"No, thank you again. I am all right," replied Pafe. "Where are they heading?"

"It's a random patrol. Scouts came back warning of increased activity from some of the neighboring tribes. A raiding party apparently attacked a camp about a four days walk from here. They made off with a lot of loot and killed a few people," said Singing with Birds as she was turning around to head back to her tasks.

"Will this place be safe if so many warriors head out on patrol?" Pafe was wondering about the strategy.

"Well, it's always a risk. However, there are warriors left in the camp to protect us. Anyways, it would be really hard for the raiding party to slip through our network of scouts," assured him Singing with Birds.

Pafe reflected on this. This time the patrol heading out was composed of a sizeable chunk of the warriors of the camp. While a number of warriors would be left to protect the village, it still left open a window where the defenders would be undermanned.