Encounters In The Frontier

Curaj’s broad, hairy back kept me from seeing the twisted path we followed through the dense, shadowy vegetation. Above our heads, between the dark branches, the last rays of sun struggled more and more to illuminate the ground before us.

It was already late in the day, and I was returning with my brother and the rest of the group to the clearing among the brush where we had slept the previous nights.

That day, like so many others, we scattered in the morning as soon as we woke up and spent the daylight hours searching for food in the surroundings and picking out good firewood from the multitude of branches and shrubs that carpeted the valley floor.

Curaj and I had spent the morning together, like we usually did, and we were lucky enough to find a fig tree whose ripe fruit had gone unnoticed by the vermin that inhabited every corner of the jungle. We spent most of the day under the tree’s shade, choosing the most appetizing figs and stuffing ourselves until our stomachs were full and our fingers became sticky and sweet to the taste.

As I followed my brother’s steps along the narrow path, I remembered the conversation we had beneath the fig tree.

It was midday, and I was leaning against the trunk of the tree, hiding in its shade from the scorching sun. My brother dozed on the ground, lying in such a way that his head and one arm warmed beneath the light. Only the song of the cicadas disturbed the lazy silence, as if every other creature were also resting.

I spoke to my brother.

-You should challenge Socigoj. Tonight, in front of everyone.

Curaj did not react. This was not the first time I had suggested it.

-Listen to me!- I insisted. -You would win easily, and we would enjoy all his privileges. When we find a harem, you will have the right to challenge the patriarch, and I know you will defeat him easily too. We will have a home and dozens of women for each of us.

My brother half-opened one eye and looked at me. Under the sun, his sweaty face shone with a blinding glow.

What I said was true. Since my brother and I left our birthplace at the beginning of the wet season, puberty had transformed his body, and what lay before me was an adult orc, almost unrecognizable as the thin boy who had accompanied me in my escape. Even lying down like this, resting, with a carefree posture, Curaj was imposing. His arms were long and thick, and whenever he flexed them to adjust his position, his muscles twisted beneath his skin like an enormous python slithering under water after a heavy meal.

He drew a big breath, and a long sigh escaped his lips, around which a timid beard had begun to grow, stained with fig pulp. Certainly, if he wished to, he could challenge Socigoj in combat and defeat him quickly, for although we were the youngest in the group, none could compare to my brother in strength and size. 

Yet for some reason Curaj ignored my advice.

-Biso, what you’re saying is a bad idea,- he finally murmured. -Socigoj does not lead us only because of his strength and age. He knows well how to move through the valleys, where to find the best food in each season, and how to keep a fire burning even with damp branches. Even if I defeated him, I wouldn’t know how to take his place. It’s better that, since he guides us, we follow him.

-My brother, couldn’t Socigoj guide us on the journey, but under our leadership? - I leaned toward him as I explained. -If after his defeat he resents us and refuses to cooperate, the solution is very simple: whip him or his brother Sibis until he comes to his senses and helps us. That’s what any patriarch must do to remind his women and his subordinates why he holds his position.

-I refuse and I won’t do it!- Curaj sat up and, resting his elbow on the ground, looked me in the eyes. -Socigoj will always have Sibis’s loyalty, because they were born of the same mother. And Witija will choose him too, because he was welcomed to accompany them when he was very young, alone and defenseless. They took him in even though he came from a distant and unknown harem. They welcomed us the same way, and we owe them that same loyalty. If I challenged Socigoj—and even more if we harassed him or his brother with abuse, don’t you think they might leave one day, abandoning us? They traveled a great distance without any trouble before they met us. Things would go just as well for them without us.

I wanted to reply, but a knot formed in my throat.

-Perhaps they would even go better,- he added, -since they would enjoy the favor of the spirits who now place so many obstacles in our path.

I did not answer, and my brother lay back down. He covered his eyes with his arm and did not speak to me again until it began to grow dark and he suggested we return to the group.

At last we reached the rocky clearing where every night we lit the fire, ate the last meal of the day, and idled away the time telling stories or practicing our fighting by the light of the flames until sleep overcame us.

That night was different.

The beds each of us had prepared for ourselves by braiding green, soft branches and making a cover with reeds and palm leaves to protect us from the rain were now completely torn apart and scattered across the ground among the mud and pebbles. The scraps of food we kept beside the fire were also scattered in the same way.

As I approached my bed, I saw that the disorder seemed to have been caused by some creature carelessly rummaging through our belongings. I could not find any of my things, and it would be difficult to locate them in the dark amid the mess.

I suspected it might have been the work of a herd of wild boars, since we often hid small nuts or fruit in our beds if we didn’t eat them right away, and that could have attracted the beasts.

To my left, Socigoj and his brother, who slept together in a large improvised bed, were also inspecting the damage, and the elder of the two, who could easily recognize animal tracks, claimed it must have been caused by jackals.

Soon, however, we all gathered around my brother’s bed, staring in silence.

The structure remained intact, and over the opening between the palm leaves that served as its entrance hung the guardian amulet my twin had crafted and cared for with great devotion.

As children, Curaj had always been more curious than I about spirits, taboos, and traditions, and he listened carefully to the stories told by the elder mothers of our harem. Before eating, before sleeping, or when encountering some ill-omened bird, my brother would murmur a blessing. When we had barely escaped alive from Jayasim’s punishment and wandered alone through the jungle, his first concern, even before finding food or shelter, had always been to protect himself from the spirits of the forest.

Everyone knows these are stronger and more fearsome than the spirits of the home, and that, out of all of the creatures, they most enjoy stalking young male orcs who leave their harems. Especially those who depart under circumstances like ours…

The amulet consisted of a smooth stone on which Curaj had scratched crisscrossing lines and tied white and brown feathers that he carefully combed and recombed every morning before we left. Now that amulet guarded the only bed that remained untouched.

-Gusu-Gusu,- Witija murmured it first, though it was what we were all thinking.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I felt a weight settle in my stomach at hearing that name.

Socigoj struck the chest of the orc with his fist, telling him to shut up.

-It was jackals,- he declared. -Let’s just prepare the fire and sleep together. Tomorrow we’ll leave.

That was not enough to calm us. Many nights, while exchanging stories, someone would suggest one about the Gusu-Gusu. Some other one would object, usually Curaj, because it is well known that one should not speak of spirits at night and out in the open, and we always found it hard to sleep afterward. Yet curiosity always overcame us, and around the fire we listened to tales of what happens to young wandering orcs who travel far from home. Those who, eager to gain a harem of their own, break the rules of taboo, kill without reason, or taste the flesh of another orc…

-It’s possible a jackal respected the amulet…- Sibis did not sound convinced.

We prepared the fire, and the older orc, like each night, scolded me for not bringing enough wood and pushed me to the ground. Though the responsibility was as much Curaj’s as mine, Socigoj never directed such humiliations at him and seemed satisfied simply to stare him in the eyes until my brother obediently looked away.

That night we all slept pressed together in my brother’s bed. The leader and his brother lay at the entrance, with the amulet hanging directly above their heads.

…

At dawn we searched silently for our belongings, gathered what we could, and prepared to leave.

Socigoj skillfully loaded his stone and bone knives and the empty gourds he used as containers into a long folded cloth. He tied it across his shoulder and used it as a bag. He took six of the spears he had fashioned himself by sharpening wooden poles and tucked them under his arm. He distributed the rest of the load among us and led the way.

Ever since we had met Witija and the brothers, they had been heading south. Socigoj said that many orcs lived there in harems very close to one another, the patriarchs in that region were already very old, and that they would not even insist on single combat with strong young orcs like us and would rather gladly accept a worthy successor.

We walked all morning, and the heat grew steadily more oppressive. The air was dense and humid, and breathing was increasingly more difficult. Leading the way, Socigoj pushed aside branches, cut through vines, and trampled shrubs to form a precarious path through the undergrowth.

I walked only a few steps behind the vanguard, chatting with Witija.

-An old patriarch—that’s the best option, indeed,- he said. The harem where Sibis and Socigoj had been born lay very close to the one where my brother and I came from. Both descended from the same ancestral constellation, so our mothers had taught us the same language. Witija, however, came from a harem in another valley farther north and had to learn our way of speaking little by little. We now understood him perfectly, though he still retained a funny nasal accent. -His brides will be old as well and can no longer bear him children. His daughters will be already grown, and he will look for a young orc for them. He won’t find anyone as willing as me, I’ll tell you that.

I turned to look at him. I would not be so optimistic.

Witija was a scrawny orc. Although time had not given me the same size and build as my brother, I still stood a head taller than Witija. The reddish, curly hair that covered his head and back had barely begun to spread across his forehead and shoulders, and his face and chest were as smooth as a child’s. During the march he often grew exhausted and chose to walk with his knuckles on the ground, the way women did, which made him look even more pathetic. Any of my older sisters back home possessed more health and vigor than little Witija.

While Witija fantasized about leading his own harem, I imagined the amusing scene of a frail patriarch on his deathbed sending one of his daughters to fight the young challenger in his place. That would be something worth seeing, I thought.

Ahead of us, the brothers stopped.

We had come upon a river.

The water flowed over a bed of solid stone where little vegetation grew. The river was very wide but shallow, and through its clear water we could see that the deepest part would barely reach our waists. In a few steps we reached its bank and noticed a patch of fine sand beneath the shade of a low tree.

-We’ve been walking all morning,- said Sibis, turning his back to the river to address us. -Let’s stop here and rest. We can cool off in the water, and downstream I see some clumps of rushes and cane shoots we can eat.

We all agreed, but when I turned I saw that my brother had not yet emerged from the vegetation. All along the journey he had lagged behind, unwilling to talk, but I doubted he had lost his way, since we had simply followed the valley downward in a straight line.

-I’ll go look for Curaj,- I announced.

I left my things on the bank and went back into the forest, retracing my steps.

I soon found him.

He walked distractedly, staring at the ground. It was quite possible he had not realized how far ahead we’d gone.

I noticed that he clutched his amulet tightly in his right hand, squeezing it far harder than he normally would, as if unafraid of damaging the talisman. With his other hand he fiddled with his tender beard, but, no, he wasn’t scratching it, he was pulling at it, trying to tear out the hair.

When I approached him silently I saw that the skin of his chest and neck was irritated with reddish patches and hairless spots caused by this compulsion. I think he didn’t realize I was standing in front of him until he saw my feet. Then he lifted his long head and looked at me, still lost in thought.

-We found a river with fresh water and food. Hurry, we won’t stop long.

I grabbed his free hand to pull him along, but he resisted and kept walking slowly.

-Brother, is something wrong? Are you limping?

He looked at me seriously.

-We’re cursed, Biso.

As if waking up from a dream, he quickened his pace and began walking beside me. Between each word he clenched his teeth.

-You and Daja, it’s… we’ve committed a great taboo, Biso.- He freed his hand from my grip and began rubbing his face. -We fled the harem without Jayasim’s blessing. Don’t you think… all these things that are happening… It's because of us.

-Don’t say stupid things. Soon we will have our own harem and we will be patriarchs. What value will Jayasim’s blessing or curse have then?

-The others are cursed now too, I think we should…- He avoided my gaze. -Perhaps we should tell them…

I couldn’t believe he would say this. With a quick stride I stepped in front of my brother and interrupted him with a blow to the snout.

My brother stopped. His enormous figure, docile.

-What are you going to tell them? Why would you tell them? I suggest you challenge Socigoj so we can have our own harem as soon as possible and solve any curse, and you fear they’ll abandon us. Now you want to betray me so they’ll abandon us outright? What are you trying to do?

Curaj shrugged, covering his face.

I had only ever seen him so terrified on the first night we spent alone after fleeing our home. He had whimpered desperately like a baby when it began to rain, and I had to calm him down by holding him in my arms.

-If we really are cursed,- I continued, -isn’t it better to surround ourselves with those who do have their father’s blessing? How long do you think we would last alone? Besides, we’re not the only ones in this situation. Witija doesn’t have any blessing either.

This was true. Witija and his mother had been expelled from their harem when they were caught stealing a pig from another woman’s hut during the night. Witija’s mother was accepted into the harem of Sibis and Socigoj, but Witija was not, so he left with the brothers, who were already preparing to depart and seek a home of their own.

My brother fell silent and continued walking behind me.

That's right. We gain nothing by telling the others. What happened yesterday, or the fact that we still hadn’t found any orc settlement, could just as well be because of Witija and his thieving mother.

My heart, which had been pounding violently in my chest, began to calm.

-Witija didn’t fuck his sister,- Curaj murmured.

I turned and struck him in the temple. Curaj covered his head with his arms and twisted in pain.

-Shut up!- I shouted, hearing the echo of my voice bouncing through the valley. It sounded shrill, squeaky, like a childish tantrum. I felt my head grow hot and I nearly choked with rage. -Shut up and let’s go,- I repeated more quietly. We were near the river, and I feared they might hear us.

When we finally reached the river and could see clearly without any branches in the way, we saw that our companions had interrupted their meal. They were silent and huddled in the shade.

First they looked at us, and then toward the other side of the river.

Four unknown orcs stood watching us silently from the opposite side of the river.

We approached our group and I asked who they were.

-They just appeared, after we heard you shouting,- Sibis replied, showing little interest in the reason for my anger and keeping his gaze fixed on the strangers.

Socigoj greeted them and waved his arms in a friendly gesture. The orcs repeated the motion.

Their skin was reddish, and thick dark hair grew over their arms, chest, and abdomen. They all seemed older than Socigoj, but although they were broad-shouldered and carried spears like ours, none was as big and strong as Curaj, so I did not feel any fear. On their torsos they had drawn crossing lines that ran down from each shoulder with white clay.

The tallest of them answered us, but we could not understand his words so we remained silent.

That same orc began to advance timidly, sinking his feet into the cold water and pointing first to our bank of the river and then to his companions.

-They want to cross to our side,- Sibis deduced. -They’re asking permission, brother. We must seem so fearsome that they already see you as a patriarch guarding his valley.

Socigoj stood proudly.

-We can’t let them cross,- said Witija. -If they want to cross, it must be because there are no harems or anything worthwhile on their side. They know that on ours, downstream, there must be plenty. Why should we share it with them?

Socigoj agreed. He stepped into the river as well and began splashing water and throwing small pebbles toward the opposite bank.

The tall orc stepped back in surprise. He turned toward his companions and repeated Socigoj’s gestures. After striking the ground and shouting fiercely in his language, he opened his mouth wide and stroked his long tusks with his fingers.

Socigoj turned to look at us, unsure how to respond. We all recognized that gesture: it was an invitation to fight. I remembered how several wandering young orcs had made that same gesture to challenge Jayasim back home when I was still a small child. Jayasim had won each time and drove them away, defeated.

-So be it,- I said. -It’s a good opportunity to practice fighting and make ourselves known among the orcs of this region.

-That’s right!- Witija exclaimed excitedly. -When we defeat them, neither they nor any other orc from that side of the river will ever dare cross again.

We all agreed, and Socigoj returned to the river and also showed and rubbed his tusks.

The rest of us moved to an area upstream where the water barely reached our ankles and each of us looked for an opponent to face in the fight. I stood at the far left, and my peers were downstream to my right. Opposite me stood an orc with a long abdomen and short legs. I stared at him, trying not to blink. My rival held my gaze. As he approached, splashing water with each step, I could make out a wound on his shoulder and knew I would beat him very easily.

I glanced to my right. Socigoj would face the tallest of the other orcs. With enough luck he would leave the fight victorious but wounded, and he would have no choice but to hand the leadership to my brother and I because a cripple cannot be a leader.

I looked back at my opponent, full of bravado, as he came closer. His amber eyes were fixed on mine, and holding his gaze felt like gripping burning embers.

It seemed that every bird, every small creature, even the noisy cicadas, had fallen silent and were watching from the trees.

The fight began.

Witija struck his opponent with a skillful punch, and Sibis and Socigoj grappled with theirs, standing firmly without stepping back. My brother did not join us. He remained on the patch of sand, standing still and watching. I turned back and called him.

-Brother, join us. Can’t you see we outnumber them and we’re stronger. We’ll defeat them easily and beat them up until they leave. Come…

He did not react.

My opponent took advantage of my distraction and lunged to grab my legs. I fell clumsily onto my backside, and before I could react my rival was on top of me. With one hand he pinned my shoulder to the ground and with the other he struck my head with terrible blows.

I tried to roll over or stand up, but there was too much weight loaded onto my waist. With one arm I shielded my face from the punches, and with the other I tried to push away the hand holding me down. Seeing that I was trying to escape, he changed his strategy and squeezed my neck tightly with both of his hands.

I tried to dig my fingers into his eyes or strike his nose, but I couldn’t reach his face. As I writhed beneath him trying to escape, I swallowed river water and began coughing. I was truly suffocating, kicking my legs in the air in panic.

-Curaj, help! He’s going to kill me!- I shouted desperately with my last breath.

It became harder and harder to see the blurred mass of my attacker, who bared his teeth in fury. Behind him appeared the colossal figure of my brother. He grabbed the orc by the hair and hurled him backward, pulling him off me.

I began coughing violently and rubbed my throat once I was freed from his grip. In a few moments I recovered my breath and threw myself at my attacker. He curled face down to protect himself from my blows. With a strong kick I knocked him down and climbed onto his back. I clenched my fists and brought them down like heavy clubs upon his neck.

I began to laugh.

He truly believed he could defeat me, but now I had the upper hand.

I grabbed his hair and started smashing his face against the stony riverbed with great force. I’ll break his tusks like this, I thought.

But pushing against the ground with his hands, my opponent managed to rise, even with my weight on top of him, and turned around. He began striking my abdomen and trying to reach my eyes. He twisted violently while I struggled to keep him on the ground.

His face was bruised, and he breathed in ragged gasps. He snapped his teeth, trying to bite my arms, and spat blood as he panted. He seemed possessed by some terrible beast, and the thought of what he’d do to me if he regained the advantage terrified me.

In panic, I grabbed a stone from the riverbed, lifted it with both hands, and struck him hard between the eyes.

Immediately he stopped resisting, and his powerful hands released me.

A deep wound appeared on his forehead, from which a great deal of blood flowed. His amber eyes stopped looking at mine and focused instead on what seemed to be a distant place in the sky above us.

The blood poured out in spurts, first covering his face and then drifting downstream, washing over the other fighters who, one by one, abandoned their struggle, stood up, and stared at the scene, staring at me in horror.

I rose and dropped the stone.

I began backing away from the motionless orc, seeking to take cover behind my brother, who was also retreating.

The orcs gathered around their companion. The tallest of them knelt beside him and examined the wound in confusion, then gently touched his face. He began washing the blood and mud, cupping water in his hands and pouring it over the orc’s forehead the same way a mother washes the soft hair of her baby.

My entire group retreated to our patch of sand and watched the scene in silence.

After a while they took him by the shoulders and carefully dragged his body back to their side of the river.

They murmured in their unknown language, and though we did not understand what they said, we could distinguish one word.