When Alex climbed the ladder into the room, she smiled wanly and said, “Gunta, Manta-ak. The door in Denta-ah is also gone, then?”
“Yes. I found something at Denta-ah, though. I know you think you made the wrong decision when you declared kunta on Denta-ah.”
Kunta was the ultimate price a tribe paid for developing technology—complete destruction.
Ganku-eh turned her vision back to the scenery below. Privately, she dwelled on this very subject, but publicly, she never spoke of it.
“I followed the tunnel Doug-ak used to try and escape back to the door. The first time I crawled through it, I was in total darkness. This time, Senta-eh and I brought small torches so we could see.”
Ganku-eh continued to stare away from Alex, apparently uninterested.
“We found a second tunnel that branched off from the first. It went deep in the ground, but we followed it down. It opened into a room that was filled with items from where I came from. One of those items was a weapon that was unimaginably powerful. I could not have used this weapon, and I don’t think Doug-ak could have either—at first. I think he knew a lot more about it than I do, though, and he could have perhaps figured out how to make it work. It wouldn’t have destroyed Kragdon-ah. Not by itself. But it would have been horrible. If he knew where more of those weapons were—and I think he might have, he could have set himself up as king of Kragdon-ah.
Ganku-eh finally turned her face back toward Alex.
“What I’m saying is, you didn’t know it, but you made the right decision. We paid a horrible price for it, but it was the right thing to do. There is no way to know what Doug-ak might have accomplished, but whatever evil it was, you stopped it.”
“You mean you stopped it,” Ganku-eh said, but Alex saw the light of hope in her eyes.
“Yes, our army stopped it. But if you had not made the decision to form that army, to take the risks we took, we never would have been in a position to do so. I have watched this decision eat at you. I cannot take the burden of the losses we suffered away. I know you mourn both Banda-ak and the lost children. We all do. But it is not your fault.”
Ganku-eh put two fingers to her forehead, and turned back to look out over the scene below her.
Alex climbed down the ladder, not knowing if he had reached her or not.
The next morning, though, he saw Ganku-eh climb to the area where people were salting meat from the last hunt.
She approached the woman who was leading the process and said, “How can I help?”
Chapter TwelveThe Binding
A Winten-ah binding ceremony was very different from the twenty-first century wedding Alex had experienced with Mindy.
That had started with the courtship.
With Mindy, Alex had met her at school, they had found each other attractive, and they had spent six months going through the dating rituals of the day—movies, eating out, meeting each other’s parents. Years later, after Alex returned from active duty, he had realized they hadn’t really known each other at all.
With Senta-eh, they had been friends long before anything else. He admired her attitude. Alex had recognized that she was beautiful, but much more importantly, he had spotted her quiet competence and confidence. He watched her interact with others. And of course, he had stood back to back with her in many life and death situations. Alex was confident that they knew each other.
Alex and Mindy’s wedding had been a big affair. The planning had lasted a full year. Much thought and energy was expended on the proper invitations, the location of the ceremony, the flowers, and Mindy’s dress.
Planning for Alex and Senta-eh’s binding ceremony was almost non-existent. Alex had sent word with one of the warriors who led a contingency to the salt deposit, asking Harta-ak and Versa-eh if they could make it to Winten-ah for a few days.
Sekun-ak authorized another hunting party to the ocean to get a single karak-ta egg. He was concerned about over-harvesting the eggs, but the Winten-ah believed that a feast with the ingesting of the psychotropic egg was a necessary part of the ceremony.
The biggest surprise occurred just a few days before the binding ceremony was to take place. The lookouts trumpeted word that someone who was a friend was approaching. This was always cause for everyone to drop what they were doing and stand staring out at the forest, waiting to see who would appear.
In this case, it was a young man who was not as tall as a typical Kragdon-ah. He was riding one of the oversized Shetland ponies that Alex and Senta-eh had been given in Tonton-ah the previous year. And, he was not alone. A tiny child also rode the same horse, sitting in the rider’s lap.
Alex didn’t recognize the rider until he hit the field in front of the cliffside.
“Reggie!” Alex shouted, pleased to see the vagabond musician from his own time. He caught himself, remembered that he had used his English name, and said, “Untrin-ak!”
Reggie raised a hand in greeting.
The Winten-ah children ran toward him, encircling the horse that was so different from the horses in Winten-ah. The horse plodded on, unperturbed.
Alex and Senta-eh ran to greet him. When he reached Reggie, Alex realized that he and the child were alone.
“Where is Verda-eh?” Alex said, recalling the name of the girl Reggie had settled down with.
“This is Tinka-eh,” Reggie said, instead of answering the question directly.
Senta-eh reached out for the child and Reggie handed her over. Tinka-eh was as adorable as any child could ever be. She
