Kinderling 21

 Kinderling 1.  The start of this story. Can be found here:

The Tricycle of Thought: Kinderling 1

Now back to our story, already in progress....

Mama and Uncle Zon returned empty handed a few days later.  Well, Uncle Zon was empty handed.  Our Deep Gorf friend from our escape through the Upper Halls was nowhere to be found.  Mama, on the other hand, had gone to take a look at the village and at least had some new information... none of it good.

"The village is being patrolled by armed Gorfs.  Groups of thirteen rather than nine like the kinderling militia patrols.  It looks like they are checking people for some kind of identification.  Whenever a Kinderling is stopped, they show the Gorfs something and are let go.  I didn't get a look at what it is, and I didn't see what happens to someone if they don't have it.  It must be bad though, since everyone looks terrified." Mama reported.  "The Gorfs are camped on the East end of the village between the village and the mines around where the old smeltery used to be.  It looks more like a military camp than anything.  There must be a hundred or more there and in the village patrolling.  I couldn't get close enough to get an exact count."  

"This is all unnatural.  Gorfs usually only gather in small tribes.  More than a few adult males together is asking for trouble.  When you were saying over a hundred, were you talking about all ages, or just soldiers?"  I asked.

"Mostly soldiers.  Males and a few large females." Mama replied.  "No children, no elders.  There is a small sub-camp to one side with a few of the smaller females who are busy keeping them all fed."

"I'd hate to be in the middle of that.  Just that many males together it must be a war zone, add in a scarcity of females and we just have to wait for a bit, they'll kill each other off."  I said with more bravado than I felt.  I've been around Gorfs quite a bit, and tried to learn as much as I could about them to make it easier to avoid getting captured.  Causing a Gorf male who was chasing me to "accidentally" run into another male - particularly if it's from another tribe - is a sure way to get them off your tail.  

"No Tandy, that's just it." Mama corrected, "There isn't any fighting.  None at all.  The males seem to be ignoring each other, and ignoring the females.  It's the most professional military camp I've ever seen."

"Your mother would know."  Father said.

I looked from Mama to Father and back, "Why would Mother know about military camps, Father?"

"When we were not much older than you, Tandy, your mother, Uncle Zon, and a few others hired out to the Men from Dorinth to act as forest scouts.  The Men were having a war with each other, and needed someone who could navigate in the forest without being seen or heard."

"Sounds exciting!"

"Stop filling her heads with dumb ideas Tadius." Mama said. "Look Tandy, war is hours and hours of boredom, followed by a few moments of sheer terror, followed by hours and hours of boredom... If you are lucky to survive that long.  It is not exciting.  It is not glamorous.  It's cold, and hungry, and bloody, and deadly.

"Speaking of that.  Zon, the Gorfs... Platoons?" Mama looked exasperated.

"I was thinking the same thing Bonnie.  Man uses squads consisting of three teams of four, plus a squad leader, so thirteen.  Their platoons are generally made up of three squads, plus an officer in charge of the platoon.  We saw one of these Gorf platoons on the way here."

"Could the race of Man be behind all of this?"  Mama asked.

"Who even knows we're here?  The forest is surrounded on three sides by near-impassible mountains, and on the third side by Dorinth.  Dorinth probably still considers us to be subjects, if they remember us at all.  The race of Man is so short lived, if they remember us at all it might be as a myth." Uncle Zon replied. "I would never tell Baot, but when the three of us came up with the idea of sending someone to Dorinth, I didn't have a lot of hope that they would listen."

"No no." interjected Father, "I may not know the race of Man like the two of you do, but I do know bureaucracy and a bit of history.  Something like a treaty may be forgotten, but it will be archived somewhere.  As short lived as Man is, historically they do honor their treaties once reminded of them, even ones that they have forgotten."

"I wish I could trust that you are right my old friend, but I have met the race of Man, you have not."  Uncle Zon replied.  

His tone gave me the shivers.