Kinderling 23

 In case you are interested in starting this story at the beginning, Kinderling 1 can be found here:

The Tricycle of Thought: Kinderling 1

Please don't judge the story or the writing too harshly, this story is written with little to no editing.  It is just meant to get me writing regularly for practice.  

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

It felt strange how easily the old Gorf and I fell into a companionable conversation.  I asked after his wife, he said she was doing well and was probably sniffing and grumbling about him being late for dinner.  He did such a comical imitation of the surface Gorfs' "sniff sniff grumble grumble" that I couldn't help but burst out in a fit of giggles.

"I wonder, do you realize that is their language?"  The old Gorf said. "I actually said there 'when is that old -grumble- going to come get his dinner'" 

"I got most of that, except for the -grumble- part."  I said.  I tried to say the -grumble- part the same way he had, but I could tell I didn't get very close.

It was his turn to laugh.  "-grumble- is my name in Gorf language.  I don't expect that you would be able to fathom it out though.  There is a lot of subtleties in a lower register that I don't think you are capable of hearing."

"Well Mr. -grumble-" again, I'm pretty sure I didn't get it right, "My name is Tandy, it's nice to make your acquaintance." 

He smiled.  "That was almost painful.  Please, call me Watcher.  That name will be much easier on your voice and my ears."

When I was small - well, small-er, as in younger.  I'm practically tiny by Kinderlings of my age standards - I was terrified of Gorfs.  They were the evil that bumped in the night.  Looking back, my parents never used scary Gorf stories to keep us in line, but I heard them enough from the other children to know they were common.  As I grew, the Gorfs became the terror that lived outside the village.  Father's best friend, the one I call Uncle Zon although he isn't my real uncle as far as I know, was a member of the Patrol.  He and his fellow Patrollers kept that terror at bay.  Not once do I recall a Gorf breaking through and coming anywhere near the village.  

Later still, after the incident with the bullies, I started going out into the forest and seeing the Gorfs first hand.  At first, of course, I was relegated to places in the forest where - via Uncle Zon - my parent's were reasonably sure were clear of Gorfs.  I gradually moved out from there and encountered real Gorfs in their home setting.  I wasn't terrified anymore.  Sure, I was still aware that they were dangerous, if I was caught there was a real danger that I would end up in a Gorf cooking pot, but it was a healthy fear of a very real danger, not the unreasoned terror of the unknown.  I eventually came to understand the Gorfs and even pitied them.  They lived like animals on the edge of starvation.  They had no fields or mushroom farms, no homes.  I am now finding that I was wrong to think of them as nothing more than animals.  It was a belief born of ignorance.  Ignorance is seditious that way, it hides itself by being itself.

We eventually got around to what brought Watcher and the big Surface Gorf to seek me out.  

"My wife brought -grumble- to me.  He is related to her, although Surface Gorf family structure is odd even by Gorf standards, so I'm not sure how to describe how."  Watcher said, "He is distraught because he finally recovered his tribe's totem stick, only to return to their cave and find that his tribe is gone.  He believes that your people took them, and he wants you to give them back.  That is part of why he is so distraught that we are here, he's afraid his tribe is inside and historically that would mean they are dead."  This time the -grumble- sounded different, but I couldn't really describe how nor could I emulate the difference.  My voice doesn't do those sounds.

"Bez?"  I asked loudly in the direction I thought the speaking tube was in.  It was only a guess, but better than nothing.  "Do you have any Gorfs in there that I don't know about?"

"No Tandy, whatever would we want with Gorfs?"  Came Bez's voice from the rocks.

I turned back to Watcher, "There is a Kinderling named Baot, and his minion Daggi who seem to be working with some Gorfs in the village.  Could they be there?"

"Perhaps." Watcher replied, "-grumble- tribe is a small one, only consisting of three families, and while he is large, the rest of the family is relatively small in stature.  Most of the Surface Gorfs that I have seen marching around appear to be from one of the larger tribes.  They live further up the mountain from your village.  They tend to grow larger in size because they have better caves with mushroom farms and keep mountain goat herds."

I was shocked.  Gorfs actually farming?  But then again, perhaps I shouldn't have been so surprised with all that I have now seen.  

"I'm sorry, we don't have them."  Keeping Gorfs captive doesn't seem like a very Kinderling way of doing things.  What use would we have of them?  Then I thought about the Gorf - platoon?  is that the word Uncle Zon used? - that we saw marching around the village.  Those Gorfs seemed to be working with, or for, Baot and Daggi.  What if they were somehow being controlled?  That would explain how that many Gorf males could be in one place without fighting.

"Watcher, those Gorfs who are marching together.  Does it seem odd to you that that many Gorfs are all marching and living together without a whole bunch of fights breaking out?"

"For Deep Gorfs, not odd at all, violence is rare among the Deep Gorfs, and there is far too much to do for Deep Gorfs society to put up with such uncivilized behavior.  The Surface Gorfs on the other hand are different.  The larger tribes are somewhat civilized, so within a tribe that kind of cooperation might be possible for a short amount of time, but there would still be some jockeying for position, which I didn't see.  The shocking part about the - platoon did you call it? - is that I saw Gorfs with markings from three or four distinct tribes.  Some of them dread enemies.  Those Gorfs would normally be at each other's throats the moment they saw each other.  Yet something is holding them in check, they were marching side-by-side."

"Bout is claiming that he has a treaty, I guess that could explain it."

"No." Watcher explained, "Treaties are unheard of among the Gorfs, even the Deep Gorfs do not have them.  Deep Gorfs society isn't structured in a way that they would be useful, and the Surface Gorfs would only be confused by them." 

"Could you be underestimating the Surface Gorfs?  Most of what I thought I knew about them has proven wrong in the last few days, and I thought I understood Gorfs better than just about anyone."

"Young Tandy.  My position as Watcher isn't just to watch you Kinderlings.  In fact that is only a small portion of my work.  The Priesthood has long considered Kinderlings to be too weak and lacking of faith to be a threat.  Most of my job is to watch our surface cousins to make sure they don't re-discover their faith, or - in spite of what the Priesthood might think - something like your Kinderling treaties that would allow them to organize against us.  As it is, the Priesthood is demanding that I get to the bottom of this, or they say they will call down the might of Gorphom to cleanse the whole valley."

"That sounds serious!  Can they do that?" I was shocked.  What would happen if the Deep Gorfs Priests did that?  Do we need to evacuate?

"Sadly, my young friend, I do not know."  Watcher seemed truly sad, as if he had lost something and wasn't having much luck finding it.