Under the Red Sky

Chapter 5 - Into the Teeth

The wind whispered now over the pad and scrape of goat leather boots. Spears made hollow taps on the ground. Bright lamplights bounced up and down from tired hands fighting in vain to stay steady. With beads of sweat rolling down their backs, every man plodded one foot in front of the other, each for the sake of his own pride, his own expression of strength.

Though the Red Sky was gone, its smothering heat lingered in the black monoliths surrounding the hunters; after marching through the red fire of day, they found themselves muscling through a black oven by night. Aching, burning, panting, and thirsting: a wild gleam blazed in the hunters' eyes like the madness of men holding death by its throat.

This is strength thought Mithash. This is the tribe surviving, winning. Claw at my skin, Red Sky; you cannot stop my marching. Gnaw at my feet and ankles, Thirsting Lands; my sweat is all you'll drink. I am Mithash who Hunts, and I carry my weight for the tribe.

Kuhnaan, Akker, Hikaz, and Shadash led the way, followed immediately by Habash, Makaz, Rasher, and Mithash, all men of the Radam. Behind them were eight Ashuza, six of which had never seen the Teeth and were awestruck by the size of the spires.

The eight young hunters struggled to keep up, taking turns hauling the sled with the burden on it. Mithash thought about helping them but he couldn't find a reason why helping would be better than letting them struggle as he once had. They need to become strong on their own. I will not rob them of the opportunity to do so.

Habash, Makaz, and Rasher were older than Mithash; he did not know them well. He was not even sure of their names before Kuhnaan had confirmed his memory by shouting orders at them. He had been on hunts with them before, but nothing about them had ever stood out. They are like me thought Mithash, quiet and simple. We will survive no matter what. They will try to survive together though; I will survive alone.

The line stopped; Kuhnaan turned around. As he held up his lamp, his black hair and dark eyes seemed to swallow the light, but the sweat on his dark skin gave his stone-carved muscles an oily luster. "Remember! Do not touch the bones," he said with his chest. The man's voice was as mighty as three men's together. The bellow came from deep in his guts, forced out by his corded abs.

Mithash had been here, deep inside the Teeth, countless times before to dispose of the tribe's dead. Every time someone had commanded, "Do not touch the bones". They were the bones of the damned; you do not touch the bones of the damned, neither with purpose nor fault.

The wind whipped overhead with that same familiar whine peculiar to the Teeth. Maybe I was wrong. I think the wind is no different, no stranger than it ever is up here. A strange wind for a strange place.

Some women take their death with more strength. Those stronger females, perhaps they are wise enough to know how we all must die, and so a strong death is a necessity to the tribe. But you, woman, you saw something different in your death. Your death was weak; you jerked and howled and sobbed as we slew you. Now, you are here, and your body will help bring the agmagog, that we might kill it and feed the tribe. That is a strong death, and you took it weakly.

I will not be like you when I die; may my body be torn by a beast as I run it through. May my howls be those of might and fury as we shred each other's skin and break each other's bones. Place me here with the damned if you will; I will not care when I am silenced... But, perhaps, it is a great show of strength to will happenings beyond one's death. Then, I will the survival of the tribe beyond my death; what else is there worth dying for? I will not scream like you woman; my shouts will echo might into the bones of men when I die.

"We enter Az Haadez," said Kuhnaan. He stood proud and mighty before the Radam and Ashuza, glowing in the lamplight. "The old name means 'Abode of the Damned'. It is a name older than our language. Older than the tribe, maybe, but not older than the Old Man. I have heard him say he remembers when it was called more pleasant things when our ancient enemies were not so ancient. Up ahead lies the place where we will give away the burden. If you want to live, do not touch the bones."