Dino Riders, page 16
I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair as a thousand different scenarios raced through my head. The idea that I was part of some prophecy was hard to get around, like I’d been transported into a video game where the fated hero had to save the world. But the fact that magic had been involved made it hard to deny that something like the hand of fate seemed to be involved in whatever was happening in this strange world. Of course, I’d want to hear more about it at some point, though Naona and her adopted father didn’t seem interested in telling me the details just yet.
As I watched the guards for a moment, I realized there were only two things that I knew for sure about this place. The Anglish colony needed to be destroyed, and there was something very off about the emissary and his guards. If the tribesmen were that worried about the strangers arriving early, then clearly Sara and I should be worried as well. I wondered if whatever magic had brought me to the dinosaur island had started a chain of events that would change Naona and Sara’s world forever, and maybe this unexpected arrival was just another part of the sequence. I shook my head at the absurdity of it all, but then I reminded myself that it was better to consider every possibility than to be caught off guard, no matter how ridiculous it seemed.
“I don’t like this,” Sara said and started to pace around the yurt. “I’ve heard about what the heathens do during their blood sacrifices. They just rip people’s hearts out while it’s still beating. And they’d love to get their hands on the Anglish. That’s why they kidnap us.”
“They kidnap you?” I asked in an incredulous tone. “I believe that the Anglish are the ones enslaving the tribesmen.”
“That’s different,” the teal-eyed woman huffed and spun to glare at me. “We’re offering them a better life.”
“Like the one that the Governor General was offering you?” I asked with a lifted eyebrow. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”
“I-I… well…”
I could see Sara’s mind work a thousand miles a minute as if she was rethinking everything that she’d ever been taught. It would be hard to get around the idea of blood sacrifices, but at this point I was willing to hear Butler out. I’d already found myself in a strange world that was stuck in the 1700’s, one with dinosaurs, and there was no reason to think that the victims had to lose their lives.
“I suppose you’re right,” Sara huffed as a heavy silence fell on the tent. “Erla may have liked living with us, but I’m not sure that everyone felt the same way. And our slaves were treated much better than those in the colony. And… and I can’t remember anyone ever actually being stolen away in the night.”
“There you have it,” I shrugged. “People tend to make up stories, especially to keep people in line.”
“The ones about the Anglish are true,” Butler said in a small voice. “They stole me right out of the forest while I was picking berries. And they burned me.”
“They shouldn’t have done that,” Sara said as hatred flashed in her teal eyes. “No one should be labeled like cattle. I promise that I will get revenge on them for you.”
“I’ll get my own revenge,” the little boy said with a stubborn expression. “Which is why I will stay with you.”
“Fair enough,” I said and plopped down on the ground near the tent flap.
Naona had already disappeared inside of the chief’s house, and since there weren’t any windows that would let me see inside, we were stuck waiting for her return. So the next best thing was to find out more about the blood sacrifices. It felt like something out of an old fable that I’d read as a kid, but it was real, and it was happening.
“Butler,” I said and patted the ground in front of me. “Come over here and tell me more about the blood sacrifices. You said that Anglish blood won’t work?”
“No,” he laughed and then collapsed in a heap of thin arms and legs in front of me.
“Naona said that the sacrifices bless the crops,” I said. “I know that some trees feed on iron, so burying a body underneath them helps. Is it something like that?”
“I am unsure what you mean,” the boy said with a confused expression.
“You bury your dead beneath trees?” Sara asked as she sat down next to me. “That is an interesting idea. But not entirely unfounded.”
“No,” I shook my head. “We have them in cemeteries. But I’ve heard that burying a body under a tree helps to nourish it. It’s one of the only things that I remember from that field trip in eighth grade.”
“Field trip?” Butler asked and glanced at the colonial woman like she could answer. “You often take your people to fields? For fun?”
“No,” I said and put my hands up. “It’s too hard to explain. Let’s just move on.”
Sara and Butler exchanged looks as if they had a thousand questions to ask me, but then the colonial woman shook her head as if to tell the kid that it wasn’t worth the fight. I’d have to learn how to explain more about my world later, but at the moment, the only thing that I wanted to know about was these sacrifices that the emissary had come for. The kid had agreed with Naona that Anglish blood wouldn’t work in their rituals, but a whole new concern surfaced as I thought about whatever prophecy Naona had been born into.
If she was really that special, then maybe they’d ask to give her blood to their gods like an Aztec priestess that had been buried alive to serve some ancient god for all eternity. I had no doubt Naona would agree to it if it meant that her people would live well, but there was no way that I’d stand by and let the purple-eyed woman die for some god that probably didn’t even exist in the first place.
“How do the blood sacrifices feed the crops?” I asked when Butler seemed lost for where to begin.
“Oh!” he exclaimed and clapped his hands together.
The kid sat criss-crossed in front of me with a wide grin like a middle schooler about to tell ghost stories around the campfire. It was hard not to smile back at him, and some of the tension drained out of my shoulders as the young boy rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat like an actor setting the scene. The heavy weight that seemed to hang on Butler’s shoulders was lifted for a moment, and even Sara lit up as she leaned in and waited to hear the tale.
“Long ago,” he started, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the dramatics. “There was a huge… what is the word?”
He muttered in his own language for a few seconds and frowned as if finding the right word was a calculus problem, but then the kid just shrugged as if it wasn’t that important.
“Group? That will work,” he said. “My Anglish is not as good as Naona. The group of gods were as different as you are from the heathens in the colony.”
“Heathens?” Sara asked and then giggled. “I’m sure that they’d have something to say about that, but you’re quite right. They have left our God far behind and are nothing but heathens serving their own desires.”
“The gods argued constantly,” Butler said and relaxed a little more as Sara approved of his description. “And eventually, some went to sleep. But the God of the Crops has stayed with us. It is his blessing that feeds our crops.”
“And the blood sacrifice,” I pointed out.
“Yes,” the boy nodded so hard that his head looked like it was about to fly off. “The blood sacrifice is provided so that he can nourish the fields. It must be done every year before the crops are laid. That way the… soil? Soil. Is ready for the seeds.”
“But it’s harvest time,” Sara pointed out. “Why would your God need sacrifices now? Shouldn’t they wait?”
“Yes,” he said with a frown. “The sacrifices usually go early to the King on High so that their bodies can be prepared for the ritual, but it is far too early.”
“Why would your king ask for them early?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said.
Butler frowned as his eyes glazed over in thought. The kid seemed to know a lot about the ritual, though the story was probably one that was told to the tribe starting at a young age. That way, no one would ever protest when the emissary came every year to take people away, and it probably ensured that the chosen victims were more amenable as well.
I hadn’t run into any tribes or villages that practiced human sacrifice back home, but there were always rumors. Addo made sure that our hunts stayed far away from those areas, even if a poacher went there to hide out. I’d always said that we should follow them instead of waiting, but as I listened to Butler’s tale, it suddenly made a lot more sense why the older man had avoided them. Besides, the months we spent waiting for the guys to reemerge was time we could use to hone our skills.
If they ever reappeared, which wasn’t always the case.
“It could be that the King on High has a plan for something else,” he said. “But the emissary that came is a priest. If there was some other issue, then he would have sent a servant, right?”
“I don’t know,” I said and glanced at the tent flap. “Maybe. Naona said something about being born as part of a prophecy. That her light purple eyes and silver hair are signifiers.”
“They are!” Butler cheered and pumped a fist into the air. “She is to be a great warrior that will save her people from destruction. It is why we follow her lead. And why the Chief has taken her as his own daughter.”
“Would they sacrifice her?” Sara asked as the colonial woman caught onto my worries.
“No,” the kid said with an emphatic shake of his head. “They would not dare. To spill her blood is to anger the gods. The King on High is protected by gods because he is their descendant, but even he would not risk hurting her without their permission.”
I took a deep breath as a thousand terrible scenarios raced through my mind. If the gods had turned their backs on Naona, then the emissary could be there to take her away. I had to fight the urge to run over and drag her out of the chief’s house right then and there, but that would only embarrass her, and it would put me in hot water with the tribes if nothing was actually going to happen to the purple-eyed woman.
“Okay,” I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair. “So, Naona is safe, but the emissary is still very, very early. What could be going on?”
“I don’t know,” Butler said and tapped his chin. “She’s going to be okay, right? We all will be? What if they found out that we took in Anglish?”
“We’ve only been here for a day,” Sara said and patted the child on the shoulder. “I don’t think that they would have heard about us just yet, do you?”
“No,” he said and swiped at his eyes. “I’m sure that it’s nothing. Or just something that adults worry about. Like… um, paying our tributes.”
“Probably,” I said and met Sara’s eyes.
The colonial woman shook her head as I lifted an eyebrow, and I knew that neither of us believed that it was actually nothing. Rituals were always done at certain times for a reason, no matter what the religion, and to come months early meant that something was definitely up. Sara scooted closer to comfort Butler, though the boy took a few seconds to relax enough to rest in the Anglishwoman’s arms.
“I’m guessing that the sacrifices for this year haven’t been picked out yet?” I asked as a heavy silence fell on the yurt.
“No,” Butler shook his head. “They won’t be chosen until closer to the harvest. It’s an honor to be chosen.”
“Are you one of the hopefuls?” Sara asked before I could.
“No,” the boy laughed and rolled his head back to meet her teal eyes. “I’m too young. The sacrifices are only chosen from the elderly. Those who have been fed from the land their entire lives. They’ve been blessed so much that they’ll be able to bless us.”
“The elderly?” I asked.
“Yes,” he smiled and sat back up. “Only those who are closer to the… afterlife? I think that is the word that Reverend Michaels used.”
Butler’s voice cracked at the mention of the Great Reverend Michaels, and the boy squirmed a little as if he wanted to get away from whatever memory had resurfaced. If it was anything like what the priests did to young men back home, then I had one more reason to burn the colony to nothing but ashes, and the Governor General and the Great Reverend Michaels would be the first to go.
“The afterlife is waiting for those who leave us,” Sara said in a sweet tone despite the rage that flashed through her eyes as if she’d come to the same conclusion as I had. “The sacrifices are those who are about to die? And do they come from every tribe?”
“No,” he shook his head again. “It changes every year, but this year they are supposed to come from our tribe. A man and a woman are chosen to go to the capital city. They will live there and prepare themselves for the ritual for weeks, and then they will pour out their blood for our crops before they go to the afterlife.”
It sounded a lot like the cows that were fed really rich foods and treated like royalty before they went to slaughter, but at least these sacrifices went willingly. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about a blood sacrifice, but at least the people that went were okay with it. And while the chief might be old enough to be selected, or Naona’s uncle, the purple-eyed tribal woman would still have a lifetime before her name came up, if it did at all since she was apparently a favorite of their gods.
“Maybe this year is special?” Sara asked after a few moments. “That’s why they need to come early? My father always said that every twelve years the fields needed to be given a break and left alone. Maybe the emissary is here to tell the chief that no sacrifices will be needed. Or that they will be sacrificed earlier than usual.”
“Maybe,” I said, but I could hear the doubt in my voice.
“I know that the fields must be rested,” Butler said. “But that’s not something the priests control. It’s just something the farmers do.”
“Right,” I sighed as I tried to will Naona to appear.
“Well,” Sara sighed. “There’s really nothing we can do but wait for Naona to return. Unless you’d like to walk over there and ask what’s going on.”
I felt myself start to laugh, stopped myself, and then I flashed a grin at the Anglish woman.
“It’s tempting, but for now, I think I’ll wait for our hostess to return,” I said.
“Smart choice,” she replied.
There was still a few hours before the sun actually set, and something told me that the wealthy emissary wouldn’t want to stay in the poor village longer than he absolutely had to. The man had barely managed a nod for the tribesmen that he passed on the dirt road, and his robes had been pristine despite the distance that they’d traveled to reach Naona’s home. No. People like that wouldn’t want to linger, and so he’d leave soon just so he could be sure he was home safe and sound.
And then I’d go over to the chief’s house the second that they were gone.
“Butler, can you go keep watch for me?” I asked. “I want to talk to the chief once the visitors are gone.”
The kid’s face twisted with an inner battle as if he wasn’t sure if that was allowed or not, but then Butler nodded and trotted outside to the wooden deck to clean up our bowls. It was the perfect excuse for him to be outside, though I hoped that the emissary’s guards didn’t ask who was in our yurt. The last thing that the tribe needed was for the King’s representative to find out that Anglish had been allowed to settle in the town, even if it was only temporary.
“I have a bad feeling about that man,” Sara said as I retrieved some water from the jug in the corner. “I don’t know what it is… but he and his guards remind me of Reverend Michaels. As if they think that our Mighty God is with them, and therefore, they can do whatever they want without repercussion.”
“I don’t remember much from Sunday School,” I said and then chugged a glass of water. “But I’m pretty sure that even God’s prophets were punished if they went too far from his teachings.”
“They were,” the brunette nodded and then smiled when I offered her a glass of water. “It seems that the Lord Almighty visited your world as well. Still… I’m concerned. Men like that will use power to their advantage and to get whatever they want. They think that they’re above the teachings.”
“Power-hungry assholes are always like that,” I said and took the now empty glass back from Sara. “They’ve corrupted religions everywhere just to serve their own needs, and from my experience, they aren’t true believers. They only worship power.”
“What if Butler is wrong,” Sara asked with a nervous glance at the tent flap. “What if they really are here for Naona? I may butt heads with her, but she is a good woman, and she’s loyal to her people. And no one deserves to be sacrificed for some blood ritual to a fake god. Even if they do take care of the sacrifices like Butler says they do.”
“I know,” I said and pulled the tent flap back just in time to see the boy bounding up to the yurt.
“They’re gone!” he exclaimed and motioned for us to follow. “They left early. Something about going to another tribe before dark.”
“Perfect,” I grinned and motioned for Sara to follow me. “Let’s go find out what they’re actually here for.”
I half-expected the giant guard outside the chief’s house to stop us when we walked up, but the big man seemed as if he was a thousand miles away. Something was definitely wrong if the huge guy was worried, and it took all of my self-control to walk in normally instead of racing in like a panicked chicken.
The air inside of the chief’s house was so thick with tension that I could’ve cut it with a cold butterknife. All of the guards stood around with blank expressions, and even Naona’s uncle had plopped down on one of the benches near the fire with a distraught look on his face. I had no idea what the emissary had told them, but any hope that it was good news had officially been burned away like pieces of tissue paper.
