The young hunter could barely stand the cold, calculating look of the servant. The blue eyes almost made him shiver every time he took a glance at them and all the wrinkles on the bald head whispered something unknown and frightening. The grey scars on the servant's cheeks could not help either but that was not the point. The man had known quite a few servants since his childhood. The scars of those others did not bother him at all.
He did not want to be there anyway. At that moment, the only thought in his mind was grief. A deadly illness seemed to become rampant among the women. The war had already taken its toll on the men, and the time arrived when some of the clean and wise had to follow. A few hours earlier, the skin and flesh of Rimir were finally taken by the ants in the pit. All of it disappeared in a night. They left the bones for the humans to mourn with but it started to got ever harder every time. He stubbornly took her dainty left collarbone with him and struggled to think of a proper place for remembrance in the forest. It was a very difficult task because all the true and good places had been used up already. And some of the little, far-away recesses as well.
Most people did not take up this challenge. They were terrified of going away to mourn alone. They were too tired to donate their time and spirit to the dead in these mad and cruel times when they themselves were so needy. And the worst is that they were so overstocked with tragedy and death that could not even feel the same sorrow anymore. The man understood all of it. Nonetheless, he was smart enough to recognize the warnings of the servants in this. They said that wars have to be ended as fast as possible because they deform humanity over time. It scared him when almost the whole skeleton of Rimir was buried into that pit in one piece. She was kind and radiant, supposedly loved by everybody. Or was she not?
His farewell to her had to be postponed because he was summoned to the servant's place.
"Please, share your memories about the encounter. Every little detail can be of use."
Well, this is the fifth time already. Or the sixth? The hunter could not tell. The meetings were fruitful at first, but uncomfortable. Then the fruits become rarer and smaller while the awkwardness intensified. He was sure that every negligible bit of his experience had been ruthlessly exploited the last time they talked. And yet they are here again.
He began the story with the same words every time.
"I started spying on them when I saw that they kill healthy trees. Hunters are bound to protect the trees as much as anyone. I wanted to investigate what they do to decide if we should warn them or drive them away."
His defensive stance was deliberate because he felt insecure in front of those blue eyes. However, it had the same effect as any other time.
"We are not here to judge your actions. Your motivations are important but long explanations are not needed."
The words failed to calm him down.
"I sneaked around their camp at night when all of them disappeared in the big sacks they live in."
"You described those things so that they were identified as tents made of linen. Temporary shelters for people of the sea."
"And our warriors torched a few of those with the enemy inside. According to your suggestion."
That ambush was monstrous with people so bestial on both sides that put ants and rats in shame. The victory resulted in outright euphoria. He witnessed seven rituals the next day excluding the ones he performed personally. Nobody was hiding or regretting anything. Only to find out just days later that the boats still contained a lot more of the enemy.
"Please, continue."
"I have seen their fires and the remains of their evening meal. There were some large animal bones as long as the shank of a man. I never saw anything like it. They had roasted fat and flesh above the flames like grasshoppers... The smell turned my stomach. The camp was barely guarded. In the middle of it, I saw a pile of spears and a lot of very sharp, shiny tools."
"Your description of the various metallic blades and hammers led to the recognition that this is a war party."
"So we started the first attack and found ways to keep them and their weapons far from us. According to your suggestions."
Those advices probably won the whole war, so the hunter thought that mentioning them is pleasant for the servant's ears. He had not a clue why but even the gelded felt pride sometimes. They did not speak of it aloud but it was often obvious in their actions and reactions. Thinking about servants, he felt a surprising shadow of envy. He could never imagine what the joy is in their life but they were rather hard to wound by obsessive emotions, too. Nonetheless, the feeling passed in a moment. He saw no signs of pride this time.
"But we could not determine why the camp was left essentially unguarded."
"Some hunters say they were just fools then."
"Men often see their own kind in everyone."
The young man agreed silently. The sight of those tents were strange in the woods but certainly not laughable. Yes, they surely caught all the diseases of the dirt occasionally but their closed clothing and shelters probably protected them most of the time. They suffered seriously in the forest but they already started to transform parts it into something to their liking. The rule of order in the camp almost scared him to run away. By now, almost everybody saw the fight but he had seen those people at peace and that vision was more threatening. That feeling was to remain with him until their last moment on this side of the sea. Smart and sly, the worst of every enemy.
"And I still don't have any idea how they caught me. I made no mistakes. I left no trails. I wore full disguise."
Actually, he knew perfectly well that nobody should have seen or found him. The techniques he used were tested in hundreds of wars and in countless hunts. He held a safe distance, watched the changes in the wind, moved without noise. No human or animal could have ruined his disguise. Yet they did it anyway.
"I can share new insights about this. You may remember that your belongings were taken after your return. A collection of white spores have been found on your sandal. It turned out that the captured dogs of the sea people are very sensitive to some of these. Suspicion is that they smell some odors we cannot."
"So the beasts found me? But... This is impossible. Those creatures are amazing, and their smelling might be good, too... But not better than possums and squirrels."
"It cannot be known surely yet, but the same reasoning were investigated. The spores were tried with possums, and they also reacted violently. You were probably trapped with an unknown, foreign kind of fungi. You may have stepped on it when you were scouting. You shall inform other hunters about this possibility... Have you grounded that day?"
The hunter did not answer for a moment, he needed to accomodate himself to the idea he just heard. The thought itself was puzzling. A human trap with mushrooms, spores and dogs? What kind of enemy is this? It was disgusting, annoying, even shocking. But it was painfully believable, sounded like something he could have surmised in the back of his brain. Though of course, he had not.
„No, I can’t recall my feet in the dirt for days before this happened. I was hunting.”
„This means that the trap was set on a tree. They were expecting forest people. They knew about our way of life from the beginning. They also knew the proper place to catch a scout.”
„You also know about their ways.”
The servant remained silent for a moment.
„A few fragments have been recognized from ancient tales. It is not enough.”
„We forced them to the shore. They are hungry and helpless. The war is almost won.”
„Almost.”
It was his turn to stop talking. His throat began to itch both inside and outside.
„What happened when they found you?”
„When I was about to move over and find another position, something grabbed my left feet. They threw a rope on me somehow and bound it to my ankles. Suddenly, five or six large men were pulling me down from my tree. I can only guess their number, it happened so fast... I could not hold up and fell to the ground. My left arm injured as you know. They started to kick my body around... When one of them stroke my head, I passed out.”
He got no reaction, so continued.
"I woke up inside of the camp. Inside of a dark tent. I was lying on a flat hard surface, my hands and feet tied up. I could not hear the forest. A women came in almost immediately and brought reeking, burning candles. That smell of that meal again."
"What was your first thought about her?"
"I... I didn't know at first that it was a her. She was too different from our women. But even more different from their workers and warriors I had seen earlier. Those were tall and thick. And rough. She was small and moved fluently. Had long hair, even longer than mine, let down on her shoulder and back. Little boys wear it like this, I thought. But then she cut something on the large, heavy cloth she was dressed in and got naked."
"What did she use? Scissors? A blade?"
That was a new question and not an easy one at that. The hunter had to think about it.
"There was nothing in her hands thereafter. That's sure. She had put down the candles and then... Perhaps she used her nails. Those were sharp enough. I really did not watch the tool."
The eyes of the servant were smiling. The eyes but not the lips. The man felt that he said something wrong but he could not find out what.
"Then she started to talk. Very strangely. I did not understand anything, but not just that... It was not like the speech of other people. There were no words. It was like singing. I think you heard that kind of thing from the prisoners yourself. I only got to know that it was just speech when she started a real song."
At this point, the hunter took a deep, unsteady breath. The next part of the story was the hardest and the one they always talked about the most. The ritual. He hated the words on his lips that described it because he knew that it simply cannot be described here. Maybe a man could understand... But a man could not win the war with his mind. The truth was that he feared that mind. He hated the wrinkles smiling.
"She came over to me. Even with that big hair, she was clean somehow. Not like you or the women here but anyway... She put her hands on my chest. She smelled like levander."
To his relief, the servant interrupted.
"Your memories helped the decision to use the bees in battle. Sea people really love the scent of flowers."
Nobody thought that the bees and ants can take down and kill healthy, full-grown human beings; that happened only in tales before. They were reluctant to try this folly. Then it turned out that they were living in those tales again.
"It was your advice. They could not learn to harness the smoke to this very day."
"As much as we cannot tame their dogs. Or cannot talk without words. Tell me about the song! What was it like?"
That was not wholly new question but they barely touched it. Nonetheless, the song should be easier to talk about than other parts of that ritual. He never told the anyone but this was also the part which still haunted him since that day. Well... Maybe even the servant's ears could have heard that voice if they would have been near... Maybe.
"It was weird. I mean... Inhuman. Angry like a rat. Wild like a snake... Sly like a cuckoo."
Yes, true, but it was not just these things. He wanted to say more but felt unable to do so.
"I really don't know. It was... sad. Desperate... Can the ritual be desperate?"
He surprised himself with this abrupt turn. It seemed he was asking the worst person in the forest. Ridiculous. Then immediately, it became very important somehow. The face looked suddenly paler in front of him.
"Remember, I have not inquired what it was. I asked what it was like. As I should have done a long time ago."
The itching appeared again. The man swallowed his embarrassment.
"You might know that the sea people took no other prisoners. We found several hunters and foragers killed with impunity but nobody was missing for more than a few hours. Nobody escaped like you. And yours was the first encounter."
He knew all that and did not like it. That was the reason of their repeated meetings. A good reason, he had to admit.
"You still think that they trapped me with a cause?"
The servant did not answer directly.
"That was not the first encounter for them."
After a heavy pause, other words fell out of the thin mouth.
"They could have earlier knowledge about our rituals with the prisoners."
"Everybody does the rituals."
"Everybody dwells on the trees. Everybody directs the bees. Everybody shaves the hair of their women."
The irritation in his throat slowly disappeared. It gave place to something cold and heavy.
"Who were your partners in rituals in the first moon after your return?"
"Itle, Oegun and... Rimir."
"Itle had at least an occasion with Gegerd in those times. As you might know, he is very fond of Tuee. I also happen to know about Milzia and Rimir, Milzia and Zuling as well as Milzia and Zerre. The three came here to complain about him."
The hunter did not understand. He did not wanted to. That was two of the three dead women. And four of the seven sick.
"It was four months ago..."
Perhaps he hoped to erase the facts with these words. Perhaps he thought of the dozens of rituals he knew about in these months. Perhaps he just wanted to wake up from this nightmare. It could not be true, there had to be something they forgot and left out of the picture. There had to be something.
"Does it mean that we will lose the war? Or have we lost it already?"
By the time he said the words, he did not need the answer. He found the missing wholeness and the first shreds of desperation. The war never mattered at all.
