Mother of Demons by Eric Flint

“Bring her forward.”

When O-doddo-ua came up to her, Guo spoke quietly.

“I am sorry, O-doddo-ua, but I cannot allow you to be adopted into Kopporu’s clan. Not now. Perhaps not—for a long time. By our customs, I would have to appoint new clan leaders. And—I cannot do that now. It is because—”

“I understand, Great Mother.” The swamp dweller made a gesture which hinted at derision. Guo found herself warming to the gukuy.

“However, when the time comes you will be adopted. If not into Kopporu’s clan, then into my own. I make that promise. In the meantime—”

She raised her head, and spoke to the multitude.

“All of the brave people who lived in the swamp will join our battle groups. They may either choose their own group, or, if they prefer, Kopporu will assign them to a group.”

The black in her mantle returned in full force.

“All of the battle groups will welcome their new members. Do you understand?”

Her flankers, more or less casually, hefted their greatforks.

“Do you understand?”

“YES, GREAT MOTHER.”

“Good.” She made the gesture of contentment. “I am so glad. I detest folly.”

The clearing was suddenly filled with humorous whistles. And a great green wave washed over the mantles, sweeping all ochre aside.

I have won. I have won. I have won.

“All of the refugees will do likewise. If they wish, they may form their own battle groups and choose leaders. But I would prefer that they join the battle groups which exist—either those of the Kiktu, or of the Opoktu. We do not need more confusion. Do you understand?”

There was no need, this time, to repeat the question.

She turned now and faced the Opoktu.

“You have, again, shown the honor of the Opoktu to the world. You have fulfilled your oath of alliance. You may now go your separate way, if that is your desire. I will provide you with guides to lead you through the swamp, wherever you wish to go.”

The Opoktu mothers, clan leaders, and battle leaders exchanged opinions quietly, while Guo and her tribe waited. In much less time than she would have thought possible, they reached their conclusions. Lukpudo advanced to the center of the clearing, joining Guo and Kopporu. She spoke in a voice loud enough to be heard by all.

“We will remain with the Kiktu. Wherever the Kiktu go, we shall go also. In alliance!”

The clearing was filled with hoots of applause.

Lukpudo’s next words were spoken softly.

“But just exactly where are we going?”

Guo looked at Kopporu. Kopporu whistled softly.

“To tell the truth, I never expected I would survive this day. So I didn’t really give much thought to it. But—”

The Kiktu battle leader turned and looked to the northeast. Barely visible over the tops of the cycads surrounding the clearing was the Chiton. The great mountain was so far away it could hardly be discerned.

“Let us go to the mountain.”

“To the Chiton?” A trace of orange rippled through Lukpudo’s mantle. “It’s—so far. All the way across the swamp.”

“I know,” replied Kopporu. “But O-doddo-ua says it can be done.”

The swamp dweller spoke up. “Not easily, you understand. It will be a heroic trek, and we will suffer casualties. But, yes—it can be done.”

Ochre tints appeared in Lukpudo’s mantle. “But still—why?”

“Where else can we go?” asked Kopporu. “The plain will be covered with Utuku, hooting for our blood. They may even try to follow us through the swamp.”

O-doddo-ua whistled derision.

“Perhaps the north?” asked Lukpudo uncertainly.

Kopporu made the gesture which was the gukuy equivalent of a shrug.

“To what purpose? How can our people survive in that wasteland? And I am certain that the Beak of the Utuku will have scouts watching the north as well as the plain. Once we emerged from the swamp, the Utuku would be upon us.”

Lukpudo was not yet convinced. She now advanced her final argument.

“But—the Chiton is said to be a land of demons now.”

Guo spoke.

“The whole world is a land of demons now, Lukpudo. What can demons on the mountain do to our people—that the demons on the plain have not already done?”