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The Myths of the Z-Lotz

10 Tuesday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in fantasy, fiction, nature, politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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books, fiction, greed, history, leadership, life, literalist, Molvolio, myth, mythology, myths, politics, story, truth, Veritas, writing, zealot

The Myths of the Z-Lotz. 

{Translator’s Notes}. Much like other tribes whose myths are here recorded, the myths of the Z-Lotz were mainly passed down by oral tradition for many years before being written down. What is most striking about the Z-Lotz is not so much their myths, but the way that they used the myths in daily life. Most of the tribes at that time told their myths often, and they served many purposes. For instance, many of the stories of the Veritas were used often as a guide for current action. The stories had details and they had central learnings. The Veritas seemed, so far as I can tell, not to be confused about which was more important. To the Veritas, the central learning was the core, the important part to think about and perhaps use as a guide. They felt that these central learnings had been argued about and trialed many times both in imagination and in action and found to be generally sound guidance. By contrast, the Z-Lotz seem to have a different fundamental relationship to their myths. They often seemed to focus on (what I would consider) the irrelevant details of a particular story as opposed to the central learning. We can discern this because, just as many tribes did, the Z-Lotz referred to earlier myths in their later myths. This is illustrated by the short fragment of Z-Lotz mythology translated below. 

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“In his wanderings to create the Z-Lotz, Nepec found himself hungry so he walked down to a nearby brook. When he approached however, he saw that many other folks were already fishing and many such fish had already been captured by others. So, its being of the time of the Autumn Moon, Nepec decided to forage for apples. He saw the gnarled trunk that signaled likely apples and walked over. This tree had been picked clean of fruit! Still hungry, he walked over the crest of the knoll and saw in a small hollow below some blackberry bushes. It was likely too late for blackberries but the leaves could be boiled and eaten. So, he picked a large number of leaves and also captured six large grasshoppers who were leaping about. These he made into a stew that satisfied him. He slept peacefully that night and the next morning returned to his journey toward the great Sea that the Bear of the Sky had pointed him to.”  

The Veritas, much as modern folk might, might draw any one of a number of lessons from this such as: “If the first path does not work out, try another.” The Cupiditas might have preferred a story in which Nepec simply took the fish after killing the other fishermen, but if they had heard the story as written, they would still come up with a similar lesson perhaps expressed this way: “When you want something but someone else has it, you must overcome all obstacles to take it. Otherwise, you may be forced to eat nothing but boiled leaves and grasshoppers.” The ROI would likely take a more rigid lesson such as, “You must try three ways and the third way will succeed.” The Z-Lotz, however, inferred an even more limited lesson: “During the Autumn Moon, Fish are forbidden meat. Apples are forbidden fruit. You must feast in celebration of the Autumn Moon only on blackberry leaves and grasshoppers.” 

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Needless to say, in order to survive, many of the Z-Lotz would eat something different during the Autumn Moon, but they would apparently always feel guilty about it. They would try to do it secretly or with only the family watching. While in public, they would make a great show of eating only blackberry leaves and fried grasshoppers as though eating anything else would be disrespectful to Nepec or even the Bear of the Sky. 

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A few scholars (Ara Pologist, 2001; Izzy Rong, 2017) have argued that the Z-Lotz simply found the tradition fun. While that may have been true in the instance of many individuals of the Z-Lotz tribe, it certainly doesn’t explain why people were burned at the stake for eating fish during the Autumn Moon. Nor, does it explain why laws were passed to ban apples during the Autumn Moon when it’s obviously the best time to eat them. It would detract too much from the upcoming epic narrative to digress into a review of all the evidence here, but it seems well-established that, whatever the unknown motives of individual Z-Lotz may have been, their societal mores were based on an unthinking devotion to the literal details of the Z-Lotz myths. 

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I bring this to the reader’s attention now, because some of the decisions that the Z-Lotz made in the following tales would otherwise make no sense. The ultimately absurd decisions evidenced by the Z-Lotz further belie the interpretations of Pologist & Rong in that their alliance with the remnants of the Cupiditas and the ROI were serious decisions for the Z-Lotz, not decisions about the details of a feast. And yet, the evidence seems clear that these decisions were based on the specific details of Z-Lotz myths. (The reader is free, of course, to reach their own conclusions).


Author Page on Amazon

Tools of Thought

Pattern Language for Cooperation & Teamwork

The Pros and Cons of AI

Social Media

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Beginning of Book Two

Essays on America: Labelism

You Bet Your Life

The Update Problem

Essays on America: Wednesday

The Stopping Rule

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

When Greed is the Only Creed

Occam’s Chainsaw Massacre

All that We May Lose

After All

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Aftermath: Feast & Celebration of Thanks for the Great Tree of Life

06 Friday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, psychology, Veritas

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celebration, Cupiditas, empathy, environment, ethics, family, fiction, greed, leadership, life, love, myth, peace, politics, story, truth, Veritas, war, wisdom, writing

Aftermath: Feast & Celebration of Thanks for the Great Tree of Life

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When the Veritas scouts had determined that no rogue soldiers of the Cupiditas remained near the lands where the Veritas roamed, and preparations for a great feast had been made, all the tribe, save a handful of lookouts, gathered at the Center Place for a Great Celebration. The Veritas celebrated victory of battle; they celebrated even more that they have avoided making two of three enemies; they celebrated the teamwork they had experienced both in preparations and in the midst of battle; they celebrated that such teamwork was the gift of many generations of Veritas before them who had fought long and hard to reward cooperation and truthful communications. The Veritas celebrated as well the plentiful food for the feast which also sprung from the gift of cooperation among the people. They celebrated their venerable leader, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, who once again exemplified her name. 

After songs, and dances; after contests of speed and strength, came the riddling contest. 

  • {Translator’s Note:} Again, the actual myths contain what appears to be lengthy and detailed descriptions of technique and suggestions for such contests. Translating these is virtually impossible. For instance, as best I can tell, the Veritas, when describing athletic contests do not use body parts such as leg, thigh, or quads. I estimate somewhere between 1000 and 10,000 names for body parts and for different states of relaxation versus tenseness, fatigue, resiliency, and so on.  I will make a rather lame attempt with respect to the riddling contest which is the last before the oration of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. Many of the riddles depend on rhyme and wordplay so they either make no sense when directly translated into English or have no rhyme or rhythm. (In other words, they are from the beginning of Milo’s adventures on the other side of The Phantom Tollbooth. Instead, I give several examples that I constructed for English that illustrate the same general point. 
  • “The more you give me away, the more I stay. Tie me down to make me drown. Let me go and I will grow. What am I?” Love, many shouted as one, for this was a well-known riddle meant to prime the pump. 
  •  
  • The next one was more original. “When I take some, it makes me dumb. When I take more, I close each door. At last I hate all, and that’s when I fall. What am I?” Here, the people suggested many answers: greed, Cupiditas, NUT-PI, addiction, bully, ALT-R. The most-favored answer was “Greed.” 
  • At last, there were about 30 such riddles. I won’t translate most of them.
  • Frankly, the last one of the evening makes no sense to me at all. If there are any other Veritas scholars out there who can shed light on it, please do so in comments. 
  • “Most everyone has me, when friend skins their knee. Many forget in peril or trouble, but that’s just when you need me, even double. I’m hardest to find, when angst fills your heart, and finding me then is a wonderful art. If you can see what others see, then, through them, you will all see me. What am I?”

The Veritas feast had been designed by many collaborators and among them were Fleet of Foot and Eyes of Eagles. The Veritas always paid attention to making their food beautiful as well as tasty. This feast lay before the hungry Veritas in a beautiful arrangement of forms and colors and textures. The red of beets and the gold of corn set off the warm reddish brown of seared venison and poached salmon. Wild lettuce and dandelion bordered each plate, each sprinkled with a handful of blueberries.  

steak food

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At long last, everyone was sated of food, drink, and entertainment. The Veritas now wished to hear from their leader, the heart of the tribe, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. She strode up a short ramp so that she could be seen and heard. 

“Today is a wonderful day. As is every day that we are alive. The People are our part of the Great Tree of Life and we have recently avoided a dreadful fate – being subjugated to the Cupiditas. We were successful in avoiding two great battles and that is saving many lives indeed, but not due to me. What I most happy about is that much of these victories came from the cleverness and teamwork of some wonderful youth among us. Teaching is a difficult thing indeed and three among us took teaching meant for doing good and turned it for doing evil. This is a great failing on my part and for all of us. And, we will spend much time and speak much about this and discover how we might help prevent such in the future. But for tonight, let us celebrate when such teaching does work. Of course, the reason it works, is these students, these acolytes took the learning to heart and even improved upon it. 

“Eyes of Eagle learned from watching such as eagles and hawks how their shape changed according to purpose and thus she began to study shapes in many ways beyond what I could ever teach her. She has added to our learning for all time. And, she probably killed more Cupiditas warriors through her damming and releasing the river through shapes. As well, she took the example of teaching wolves and made a weapon of a bird! She also devised a trap that caused many Cupiditas warriors to lose their footing and fall into that carefully camouflaged death. Fleet of Foot helped to make those traps look to be ordinary terrain. Trunk of Tree suggested using drums to communicate with POND MUD and thereby to the Nomads of the South. And Eyes of Eagles knew exactly where to place those drums to enable greatest reach of sound. 

“Here is another lesson for all the people. You see how it is with Eyes of Eagle. She has studied shapes and thought much about how shape influences all things. Perhaps she has studied and learned more than any other Veritas. So, she invents things to help us all because she made her knowledge richer than all before her.  

“As you all know, I began seeking a successor and we chose twelve promising from among the Veritas youth. As time went on, it became clear that one among us has a very good heart indeed along with an excellent mind. I believe she will be a wonderful leader among you. And she is of us all. And we are all part of her. And she well knows this. I want to present She-Of-Many-Paths with the Seventh Ring of Empathy and suggest her as your leader should she survive the vision draught of death and life. She shall be named henceforth, She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives.”

She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives knew this to be her cue and ascended the ramp. Her long black silky hair hung down her back in a long straight line that contrasted with her blue and white patterned dress. He neck and hair were adorned by turquoise beadwork. On the little, ring, and middle fingers of each hand, she wore a ring – one of the Rings of Empathy that she had earned. She knelt before She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, who again spoke. 

“This woman has indeed saved many lives. She has demonstrated that she has a gift of empathy which she continually improves. Moreover, she has demonstrated that she knows to use this gift for the good of all, not just for herself, nor indeed, even for her people but for the good of all who are among and part of the Great Tree of Life. She is still able to use her empathy when many would find their fear or their anger blocked all such ability. She reached out on many paths to foster life when many would have chosen instead a giant wall to keep unwanted feelings out. I therefore bestow upon her the Seventh Ring of Empathy.”

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives gently took the hand of She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives and lifted it. She placed upon the index finger of the left hand, a ring with three interleaved cords of woven gold; one reddish as fire coals, one white as summer clouds, and one the yellow of goldenrod. Atop the ring was a single large opal that seemed to sparkle of dewdrops rainbowing in the sun. Then, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and her protege stood facing each other for a moment before the older woman reached back and took a gnarled wooden mug and handed it to Many Paths & Many Lives Saved and asked her loudly so that all might hear: “She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives, do you take upon yourself the awesome responsibility to be First Among Us, to lead us in times of peace and times of trouble; to put the Tree of Life ahead of the Veritas, and to put the Veritas before your own interest? Will you lead us, should you survive the sacred drink of Life and Death.” 

“I do and I shall.” She took the gnarled mug and put the cup to her lips. Despite the name, she had some doubt that it might really kill her, but she owned it remained a distinct possibility. The taste was bitter, funky, and even sweet, although in a rancid sort of way. She thought it more likely that the drink would make her ill or even alter her perception much the way tobacco made her slightly more aware of tiny details of color and form. Instead, she felt normal enough, though taller of course; she was much taller in fact. But so was everything else. She began to see that what she thought of as individual people such as Shadow Walker, who she realized suddenly was an incredibly handsome fellow. He really is, she thought. But he’s so tall! We are all so gigantic. We are each tribes ourselves. No, we are tribes of tribes. And, we are all interconnected — to each other — and to our past — and to our future! 

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As she looked out upon the crowd of nation-sized people she realized how incredibly different each person was and yet how similar each person was and how similar every living thing is to every other living thing. She could see or imagine how this same ceremony was carried out decades ago to choose She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and that every leader had done the same for a thousand years. She found herself falling, falling, down a long tunnel, but soon discovered that she was not really falling so much as floating and she could will herself to float up the tunnel as well as down. As she floated up the tunnel, she continued upward until she seemed to be floating high above the Center Place of the Veritas. She could see all the lands where the Veritas dwelled and hunted. She could see the lands of the Cupiditas, the Sabra, and the Fierce and Formidable Fighters of the North. 

She could see other lands and other peoples. The lands became filled with people. There were people everywhere and particularly along the coasts of giant lakes and along the banks of tremendous rivers. These people had campfires everywhere but the campfires did not flicker and smoke. It gladdened her heart to see the people so numerous and prolific. She knew not how she knew, but she knew somehow that this prosperity and reach of the people came from the Veritas, or more accurately, not her tribe of Veritas precisely, but from the spirit of the Veritas that valued the search for truth, the feeling of love and comity, the desire to be fair and foster the great and varied Tree of Life. Then, her heart sank again, for she felt, rather than saw, that the Cupiditas too survived and infected the people with the diseases of greed and cruelty.

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 The people forgot the very nature of life itself in their pursuit of more … more what? It didn’t seem to matter! The people were pursuing more of everything and in that greed killing the roots to the tree of life! Birds were dropping from the sky. Fish were dying in the streams. Trees fell and burned by the thousands. She thought: The people are destroying the very Tree of Life whose branches they live in. Surely, this cannot be! Even the Cupiditas are not that greedy. It seemed to her that the Cupiditas had stolen knowledge gained by the Veritas and for some unknown and unknowable reason, had convinced people everywhere to replace the beautiful Tree of Life with some unknown material that was ugly though shiny. The water that people drank contained teeny pieces of this shiny material and it made all the people sick. Yet, they made more and more of the shiny material until it was even in the air that they breathed and this too sickened many people. 

factory smoke

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Now, from far away, she could hear the voice of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, “Daughter? Are you all right?” She turned, and returned– standing again on the raised platform right beside She-Who-Saved-Many-Lives. She looked out and saw the Veritas looking at her as though nothing unusual had happened. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” She had survived. She had become the leader of the Veritas and the people acknowledged her with a mighty roar. She held her arms above her head and spread her fingers outward to make that sign that the Veritas used to signal the Tree of Life. She felt some elation, but also a sense of great responsibility. Though she was now the leader, she wanted nothing more than to speak privately with She-Who-Saved-Many-Lives. She smiled out at the people, holding her hands high once more and once more spreading her fingers widely as though she were a tree drinking in the sunshine. She glanced at She-Who-Saved-Many-Lives and whispered, “I had the strangest dream just now. How long was I out?” 

She-Who-Saved-Many-Lives looked at and into the new leader, and whispered back, “You did not lose consciousness at all, though you shook your head oddly for a split second. It was the same with me.” 

“Later, may we speak of these visions?” Though She Who Walked Many Paths to Save Many Lives was now the leader, she still felt very much an apprentice or acolyte. 

“Indeed, we shall. Now, go among the people and receive their blessings. Later, we will speak of such.”

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——————————————

Herein lies a portal to many worlds.  

The First Ring of Empathy

The Forgotten Field

The Orange Man

Pattern Language Summary

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

Travels with Sadie: Teamwork

Life Is a Dance

The Impossible

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

The Dance of Billions

Math Class: Who are you?

Plans for US; some GRUesome

Fifteen Properties

When Greed is the only Creed

D4

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Corn on the Cob

The Declaration of Interdependence

 

Aftermath: The Great Escape

05 Thursday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, Veritas

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escape, fiction, greed, Justice, leadership, learning, myths, peace, politics, retribution, revenge, short story, story, strategy, tactics, torture, truth, Veritas, war, writing

Aftermath: The Great Escape

Veritas warriors pursued the retreating Cupiditas through the forests and plains until the Cupiditas had nearly arrived back at their own central place. Then, the Veritas posted lookouts to ensure that the Cupiditas did not regroup and re-attack though they judged this unlikely. The main contingent of Veritas who had served as archers returned to the center place. When evening came, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives now sought the council of many of the Veritas as to the fate of POND MUD, ALT-R and the blinded and bitter KAVA-NUT. 

Various suggestions ranged from swift killing to lengthy and painful tortures.  During these discussions, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and She-of-Many-Paths had stayed uncharacteristically quiet. At last, She-of-Many-Paths spoke quietly. 

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“I can well understand why so many are eager to avenge injuries and deaths on those three traitors. Consider how it is for them, for one moment. They have no place of honor among us. They played some part in a disastrous defeat for the Cupiditas. No doubt, the Cupiditas survivors would much rather blame those three than any of their own. We need to consider what is best for us as well as for them and for the Tree of Life itself. Given that they may prove troublesome in one way or another while they live, I see some wisdom in killing them. Torturing them may prove fun for some, but what does such enjoyment make us? Does it really promote the Tree of Life? I think not. We could torture them for information that proves valuable, but if you imagine yourself being tortured, would you not say whatever you imagine your torturer wanted to hear in order to make the torture stop? Would this really be a clear path toward truth? It seems to me that torture is more a thing for Cupiditas than the Veritas. 

“It is true, as many have said, that they may have information about the Cupiditas that would be useful for us and also about the ways of the Southern Nomads and the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North. But I propose that I speak with them individually and in this way, attempt to see into their hearts. I cannot guarantee success, especially with ALT-R who has fooled many amongst us. Yet, let me see what I can learn and with what degree of certainty. Then, we may finish these deliberations armed with more knowledge. Besides that, it seems to me that we need to learn, if we can, how to avoid such traitors in the future. How did three of our own people work to enslave us? It may be that such is their nature and there is nothing that we could have done or do in the future, but it may also be that we could learn what we may have done wrong and prevent having such traitors in the future.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives said, “I think this is a good plan. Meanwhile, we can prepare for the celebrations of two large victories and one small victory.” Many nodded in the firelight. The Veritas considered a victory in battle as reason for a small celebration, but a victory without bloodshed held seeds of future peace as well and thus was considered reason for an even greater celebration. 

The tribe assented to the plan of She-of-Many-Paths and she began immediately while others made preparations for a great feast and dance. 

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She-of-Many-Paths thought first to query KAVA-NUT. 

He screamed that he would get revenge and how it was unfair to use a giant bird to fight. 

She-of-Many-Paths quietly asked, “Was it unfair to use the superior strength of three men to try to force your will on Eagle Eyes?”

KAVA-NUT screamed, “That’s what men do sometimes when the blood is high. It’s natural!” 

“That is not our way, Kava-Nut, as you well know.” She-of-Many-Paths found anger rising in her own heart. She forced herself to relax so her mind would stay sharp and her heart open.

“Women choose with whom they wish to mate. And for what purpose could the people of the Veritas trust you? I would not trust you to make a cabin for it might please you to finish quickly for your own convenience without regard to strength. I would not trust you to hunt for in your eagerness to be done with it, you might scare away all such prey as might otherwise be taken. I would not trust you to grind corn for your cruelty might cause you to put small sharp flint flakes to destroy someone you did not like from the inside out. For what could I trust you? For what purpose could any among the people trust you when you would force yourself on someone else for your own pleasure with no regard to how that would affect them?”

“I don’t care! She blinded me! She can’t give me back my eyes!”

“No, but there is still a chance that you may see. Think upon it.”

“May you slowly die of thirst! I curse you! I will get even! We will attack with the Cupiditas! You will all be our slaves.” 

“That’s already been tried. Surely, you know this, blind or not. The Cupiditas have been utterly defeated.” 

KAVA-NUT raved on, “You’re LYING! We are going to CRUSH you! You’ll see!” 

She-of-Many-Paths grew angry in spite of herself. She snorted a small laugh and shook her head as she realized that his own hatred and egotism blinded him far more severely than the Eagle had. Then she grew sad for it seemed that there was nothing that could be learned from KAVA-NUT himself. She would try another tack. “You realize that right now, the people are trying to decide whether to kill you slowly or kill you quickly. I convinced them…”

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear about it! Go away! She-of-So-Many-Words-It-Drives-Everyone-Crazy.” 

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Despite his vitriol, She-of-Many-Paths found this funny. “I’ve argued that there may be some value in what you know. If I can’t convince them, you will likely die soon one way or another. So, you need to convince me that you have some kind of value.”

“YOU IDIOT! The Cupiditas are going to enslave you! POND MUD, NUT-PI, ALT-R. These will be your lords. Go away, slave!” 

She-of-Many-Paths did not give up, but she did decide further attempts to talk right now would be fruitless. She decided to try POND MUD next to see whether he had any more insight into his own character and situation as well as those of his companions. 

“POND MUD? I come to speak with you. As I promised, the Veritas are trying to decide your fate. I come now to learn whether there is anything I should know to speak on your behalf.”

“Hello, She-of-Many-Paths. I am strong. So I can help move or build things. Remember I always used to win that game – King on the Hill. Right?”

She-of-Many-Paths cast her mind back. “Here’s what I remember, POND MUD. I remember that ALT-R almost always won that game. He was at the top. But right below him, there you were, throwing everyone else off with your great strength.” 

“Exactly. That’s what I was talking about!” POND MUD looked hopeful.

“You didn’t actually win, POND MUD. It was really ALT-R. He used your strength to get what he thought was best for him, not what he thought best for you or for both of you or for the Veritas as a whole. This is his way and though I don’t condone it, I understand it as a kind of blindness to his place in the universe. I don’t understand why you keep following ALT-R though he uses you for his purposes and only promises and persuades you that he cares about your welfare. So, why do you continue to believe him?” 

“It just works out better when we follow his plan. I can make plans too. But they aren’t as good. His plans are better. His plan was to have all of our forces come at once on the middle way but NUT-PI didn’t like that plan. Anyway, ALT-R is my friend. I think he’s the only one who really looks out for me.”

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She-of-Many-Paths sighed and shook her head. “Oh, POND MUD. There were many who liked you. And I promise you that ALT-R is not looking out for you.”

“You’re wrong. He’s told me he looks out for me. He’s said that many times.”

She-of-Many-Paths decided she could say nothing that would break POND MUD’s devotion to ALT-R. To POND MUD, POND MUD and ALT-R were inseparable; like one entity – a partnership. She-of-Many-Paths was sure that ALT-R viewed POND MUD as a useful tool. But maybe that’s not really true. I wonder how ALT-R really does view it, but extracting the truth from him would be difficult indeed. Perhaps she could try a different approach and learn something about ALT-R and probe POND MUD’s thoughts at the same time. As for the future, we should be on the lookout for this kind of exploitative relationship early. The way they played King on the Hill should have clued them in that something was amiss. 

“So, POND MUD, how did you and ALT-R work together to plan this battle.” 

“Well, I can’t really tell you that. You see? I would be betraying my friend, ALT-R.” 

She-of-Many-Paths carefully avoided trying to question POND MUD’s premises and said instead, “I don’t see. Of course, if it were before our battles, you would be betraying your side but the battles are all over. I am guessing that you would not be welcome any more at the Cupiditas. They will almost certainly blame their loss on the three of you more than their own commanders. And, now, you see how it is. You haven’t joined your comrades in their retreat. If you were to leave now and show up so late, they would be even more inclined to think you traitorous to them. So I don’t really see how you are betraying the Cupiditas or ALT-R to tell me what your decision process was like.” 

“I don’t want to say anything about it.” POND MUD lowered his head and spoke softly. “I’ve been thinking about it and I may have already betrayed him. I spoke with you and told you things I shouldn’t have. Then, later, when ALT-R asked me about it, I said that I had just seen you but that we had not spoken. So, you might have used what I said and then I should have admitted that I did talk with you. See, I’m not so perfect either. Don’t tell him though! You won’t tell him will you?” POND MUD seemed more concerned about ALT-R’s opinion of him than the fact that his very life hung in the balance. 

She-of-Many-Paths sighed again. “No, POND MUD. You might want to tell him, but I’m not going to. Anyway, POND MUD, you do realize that your very life is at stake here, right? You have to be able to convince the Veritas that they can trust you again. How will you do that?” 

“I wish you would do it! You’re much better at that sort of thing than I am. That’s one reason…anyway, what will you tell them?”

“I’m not sure I should speak for you, but what will you say? How can we trust you? If you do whatever ALT-R says you should do, then we can only trust you if we can trust him. But how can we trust him? If might help to understand more about how you interacted with each other and with NUT-PI and others. Do you see how you threw your lot in with someone who has guided you on a path to disaster?” 

POND MUD frowned. “Well, I don’t think of it that way. ALT-R is smart. I am strong. Why shouldn’t the strong do as the smart people suggest?” 

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She-of-Many-Paths considered. “There is something to what you say. But you must trust such a smart person to act for all, not just for himself or herself. And if such a smart person has followers who never question that leader but go along with everything, their temptation to play all their followers for fools. That’s why we have open dialogue with as many as desire to be involved. The people have also developed various customs and rules to prevent a person who is smart from misleading them onto a path of destruction, regardless of how seductive his words might appear. If you cede all power to one particular person, however clever they may be, the trust we have in you can be no greater than the trust we have in that person. I have great trust in She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. I can feel that she is trustworthy. But I also have a lifetime of experience with her actions and her words. How can any of us trust ALT-R? How can you trust him?” 

POND MUD shook his head. “I don’t know. But I do. He’ll get us out of this jam. I know he will.” 

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She-of-Many-Paths sighed, “I will go now and relate our conversation to the council. I feel bad for you POND MUD. I see in you a good heart but one too readily given to a deceiver and a traitor. Yet my own inadequacies prevent me from finding a way to show you that which seems so obvious to me. Your path to life is a path you must carve on your own. The path you are on has led you from bad to worse and ultimately to a death before your time. You may not see things the same way. I understand that. But all the people who hold your life in their hands…do you not see that they have no reason whatever to trust ALT-R nor a POND MUD who has shown such devotion to a traitor?” 

POND MUD stomped and hit his fists together. “You’ll see! ALT-R will get us free!”  

She-of-Many-Paths strode away through the night replaying her recent conversations and wondering what she might have said differently. At last, it was nearly time to speak with ALT-R. Yet, she wanted to formulate a plan for such a conversation. She certainly knew she would not fall for his lies as easily as POND MUD and yet, even the prospect of sharing his space and his air filled her with a sense of foreboding and disgust. His words were like the bright red berries of the creeping nightshade — pretty to behold but a slow and subtle poison nonetheless. She paced back and forth finally deciding that she would try pumping him for information about his companions and about the Cupiditas. As She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives often said, “Even in the words of your enemies, if you look behind their hate, you may find wise counsel to guide your life.” That seemed too much to hope for. But she would discover what could be learned. If ALT-R kept avoiding the questions or giving answers that seemed lies, that would be worth noting. Yet, some seeds of truth might spill upon her consciousness in the threshing of the truth that she foresaw.

She came to his enclosure and heard him talking to someone. Or, perhaps he was greeting her, she wondered. She decided to approach quietly. She glanced through the enclosure to see ALT-R sitting in the far corner muttering to himself. She quietly padded around the enclosure so that she could listen to his musings. She was well aware that it was possible he heard her and that his seemingly spontaneous mutterings could be a show for her rather than an opening into his real heart. Perhaps what he muttered was only a trap with camouflage such as the ones that the Veritas had laid at the bottom of the slippery hill to trap Cupiditas invaders. He seemed to be muttering to himself. But who knew. She could only catch some of the words. 

“POND MUD. Unreliable. She-of-Many-Paths. Too many paths. But she is smart. That’s the kind of companion I should seek. Smart. We could rule together. But she likes Trunk of Tree or maybe Shadow Walker. She doesn’t like POND MUD. She might like me though. I could help her lead. It has to be her. Not Shadow Walker. Not Eagle Eyes. Damn POND MUD. He must have told her our plans! The problem is, no-one trusts me now. I have to win their trust, but how? I’ve done it before. I can do it again. But no. This time, no-one will believe me.” 

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She-of-Many-Paths decided to break into this monologue. “ALT-R. I have come to talk with you about your fate.” 

“Oh, She-of-Many-Paths, yes, the cleverest of us all! You should be celebrating your great victory. You defeated the Cupiditas. Well done. They are a brutal people and I never should have thrown my lot in with them. But I did. I understand. Now there is nothing but death ahead. I don’t blame you. Yes. That’s what I would do. I wouldn’t expect you to show mercy now. Though some have called you merciful. But I never believed it. Because mercy is just another name for weakness, right?” 

Generally, She-of-Many-Paths had a soft warm voice, but on this occasion her voice clanged of dull iron and angry crows. “I’ll get right to the point, ALT-R. Many of the Veritas would like to see you dead. Along with KAVA NUT and POND MUD. Why should we spare you?”

ALT-R seemed in a good mood which seemed odd under the circumstances. “I can think of no reason. Can you? You seem to like wolves after all. If you can train a wolf to work with you, then maybe you could even train me?” 

She-of-Many-Paths considered this. She had indeed trained some wolves. But it wouldn’t really be true to say that she trusted them exactly. Why was he bringing this up? Clever. Rather than arguing his case, he was trying to get her to do it for him. He was appealing to her vanity. Offer up a challenge. If I can train a wolf, he wants me to think I can therefore also train one such as ALT-R to be cooperative. 

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“I repeat my question, ALT-R. Why should we spare you? Convince me. There are many who would simply have you put to death. A slightly larger number would have you put to death slowly. A few would like to see you turned over to the Cupiditas. I suspect they relish inflicting tortures. So, why should we spare you?” 

In the dim light, looking through the slats and webbing, she could see that ALT-R smiled as he answered. “I can’t think of a single reason. Can you?”

“No,” answered She-of-Many-Paths. She could see that ALT-R was trying to engage her; to make his problem into her problem. Indeed, she did feel frustrated that she could see no path to rehabilitation for any of them. Each of the traitors seemed dead set in their ways. 

After a long pause, ALT-R spoke again. “I don’t see a way. I am actually quite a changed man but I see no way to prove that to you. Or to the Veritas as a whole. I see that no-one now trusts me. And why should you? I have betrayed my people. There is nothing to be done. I am sure I will die soon, slow or fast. It’s sad, to be sure, that we can train the wild wolves and trust them and not be able to train one of our own such as myself. But that’s the way of it. If you can’t think of a way to save me, I’m sure no-one else can either. Too bad in a way. We would have been such an amazing pair of rulers, you and I. And, imagine we had kids! How smart might they be! You know, POND MUD always had his eye on you. He always wanted you so, since he is my friend, I never said anything to you. I didn’t want it to become a wedge between my friend and I. And, you always seemed to like Trunk of Tree. Or, Shadow Walker. Or both? I don’t know. Is it possible to like more than one? Just as I like more than one way of looking at things.” 

After another long pause, She-of-Many-Paths said, “I’m not hearing a reason that I can take to the Veritas to argue for your life.” 

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t bother. I’m sure you have more important things to do. I was just musing on you and your name. I admire your ability to see things from many ways. I do like — or did like — some of the things about the Cupiditas, but on the whole, I can see that our way — the way of the Veritas — is much better. Their way is too nasty for me. Does that surprise you? I suppose you might see at least something good in their ways. Right? You can always see things in more than one way. That’s what I … what I … like about you.” 

“I don’t actually know much about the Cupiditas. What can you tell me about them? What was your plan exactly? Were you going to murder us all? Enslave us? Just steal everything you could?” 

“The leader of the Cupiditas, NUT-PI, I can tell you is a coward. He would not lead his people in the battle. He held back someplace safe and far removed. But he is cruel and bloodthirsty. It was his idea to kill most of you and enslave the rest. In fact, he wanted me to bring him three of the most spirited women from among the Veritas to him. His plan was to torture them into submission. He specifically asked, not for the three most beautiful, but for the three most spirited. Naturally I thought of you. And Eyes of Eagle. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t possibly be a part of anything like that.”

“So you say, ALT-R, and yet you were willing to help KAVA-NUT try to rape Eagle Eyes and lie about it.”

“Ah, yes. That was a horrible misunderstanding. KAVA-NUT, you must realize, convinced me and also POND MUD, that Eagle Eyes really wanted KAVA-NUT but was just too shy to make it obvious to him. Also she feared that Fleet of Foot would perhaps be jealous and kill them both. Anyway, I am glad I was able to prevent having you snatched away. But I don’t expect special treatment for saving you, She-of-Many-Paths. It was just that I couldn’t really bear the thought of you with NUT-PI. You don’t know how cruel he is, but I do. He is not the man for you. Ruthless. Powerful. Clever too. But I see how you could prefer someone less clever such as Trunk of Tree or Shadow Walker. Someone who is just — you know — an okay person. Not really worthy of a leader such as yourself. Well, that’s why…you know…you and I are both leaders. In that one way at least, we are similar. But I can see why you would prefer someone less smart than you. Being with me, you would always be second guessing whether what I am saying is true. You’re probably even wondering that now though I am simply telling you the truth.” 

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She-of-Many-Paths found this entire web of lies interesting in that, despite her knowing full well that ALT-R probed for a weakness and wanted to poison her mind, it still had some slight effect. No wonder POND MUD fell for his trickery. But in the end, ALT-R’s words were no more meaningful than the winds whispering in the leaves of the birches near the stream. 

“Goodbye, ALT-R. I will report on our conversation to the council. Like all among the Veritas, you have received a great and wondrous gift, the gift of speaking and of weaving words together to make stories. This is a gift more splendid than any other imaginable. Think for a moment of all that gift allows us. It allows us to work together and improve things over time. Yet, you pervert this gift. You use false stories merely as a way to manipulate others and get your own way. It is a pity in much the same way it would be for a fish to bite off its own fins or an eagle to tear out its own eyes. It is the one true gift that humankind has and instead of using it as it is meant to be used…goodbye.” 

 She walked away, feeling as though she needed to bathe in a stream so as to remove the slather of lies that he had spewed upon her. She would need to scrub with horsetails as well, she reckoned. And so she did. Then, feeling cleaner and refreshed, she at last donned clean bright clothes for the celebrations. The celebrations lasted three days and two nights. When all had eaten their fill and danced unto oblivion, the Veritas smoked of the devil weed and considered again the issue of what to do with the three traitors. 

A variety of interesting and painful tortures were considered. Many others simply wanted them dead as quickly as possible. They viewed them as a virulent tumor that must be excised from the people. 

After all ideas were considered but no clear consensus emerged, She-of-Many-Paths began to speak. 

“I do not trust any of the three. I feel that they are every bit as corrupt as when we first vanquished them. If anything, ALT-R has grown more clever in his lies. POND MUD will follow ALT-R no matter what. KAVA-NUT has gone mad so far as I can tell. I could experience some joy at their severe pain, but I do not wish to enjoy such as that. I fear that such tortures could make us more like the Cupiditas. What would be the point of our defeating such an enemy if we ourselves become that enemy?

“You all know that these three traitors have some skills but excellent stalking is not one that any of them has. I was able to see POND MUD long before he saw me, and I am not the most skilled tracker amongst us. KAVA-NUT is blind. ALT-R is a problem. I suggest we cut out his tongue and set free the three of them, again banishing them. We shall make it clear that they must leave our lands for good and any of them who returns will be killed on sight. Then, I would like our best trackers to follow them for a five day’s journey; to overhear and report back on the conversations amongst the three. I judge there may yet be things to learn from them, but we will not gather such intelligence while they are captive. We may gather it when they are free and do not know they are being followed.”

Shadow Walker said, “You say you do not want to torture them but you want to cut out ALT-R’s tongue?”

“Yes. I do think it is a necessary precaution. He lies as easily as you breathe, Shadow Walker. He is not using his gift of speech to help the Veritas spin a stronger weave that can hold us together under all circumstances. Rather, he uses his gift only to try to divide us and weaken us. It is, for him, a weapon of conquest rather than a tool of many thinking together. Without a tongue, I do not think he will be able to start any more wars and the quiet might enable POND MUD to reflect upon how he has been manipulated.” 

The tribe puzzled and dialogued for three days but in the end decided to follow the suggestion of She-of-Many-Paths. As could be expected, ALT-R found the prospect of losing his tongue a horror beyond belief. Yet, it was done. After ALT-R had recovered from the tongue extraction and subsequent cauterization, the three were given some small provisions and accompanied to the edge of the lands of the Veritas. Here, they were sent on their way and admonished never to return. The three marched east and then south and for five days, as had been planned, the trio were followed. On the fifth day, the Veritas trackers headed back and reported on what they had observed to She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and She-of-Many-Paths. 

The first night, KAVA-NUT and POND MUD had gotten into an altercation around their campfire which had ended when POND MUD threw KAVA-NUT to the ground. KAVA-NUT’s skull had crashed into a sharp rock that had been placed to help contain the fire. There was not a lot of bleeding but in the morning, ALT-R and POND MUD discovered that he had died in the night. ALT-R had tremendous difficulty trying to manipulate POND MUD without the power of his tongue. Yet, he managed to convince him that they should split up. It seemed that ALT-R suspected that they were being followed though he gave no obvious indication of this. From drawings in the dirt near the campfire, it appeared that ALT-R and POND MUD were to rendezvous in three days time near the lands where the wondering Nomads of the South sometimes ventured. ALT-R cut POND MUD, apparently so that he could leave a false trail of blood which he did. In fact, POND MUD made a number of false trails. The trackers, still unseen by POND MUD watched him circle back to the rendezvous spot. POND MUD’s wound was festering and he began ranting with fever. Still, ALT-R did not show up at the rendezvous spot. POND MUD became incoherent. The trackers debated whether they should leave him to die or try to help him. At last, they approached POND MUD cautiously. 

“POND MUD. Do not fight. We will help you heal your wound. Then we must return to the Veritas.” 

“Go away. I’m waiting for ALT-R. He will cure me.”

“I am not so sure about that. But you need help now. Your wound has never healed properly. There are some ant hives nearby. We will use the soldier ants to stitch together your wound.”

POND MUD began to rant and rave. “ANTS! ANTS! NO ANTS! That will hurt! They are NOT Strong! It’s a lie! She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives sent you didn’t she?! I hate them! Leave me alone. ALT-R will come soon. Away! Away!”

“Just listen for a moment, POND MUD. You are very sick. We can use the pincers of the ants to bind the wound. I’ve done it before. Once they bite, you separate the head and it stays put thus stitching your skin together. Their venom hurts but somehow cleans the wound. It’s your best chance. Let us try to save you.”

“It’s her fault! I will kill you all! You’ll see! The Cupiditas will be here soon. I hate…I hate…no ants. No ants. I am very strong. I can still kill you! You’ll see! ALT-R will save me.” The trackers decided to back off and observe POND MUD from a safe distance. They hoped his mood might change later and they could still save him. But when they approached again a few hours later, POND MUD’s large, well-muscled lifeless body lay arms akimbo. They pried his right hand open and there clutched very tightly between forefinger and thumb was a crushed ant. This seemed an odd task to set oneself just as one lay dying. Perhaps, they speculated, he was tying to use the ant pincers to bind his wounds.  

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The trackers who had been following ALT-R saw signs that he entered a river but could not pick up his trail on the other side. They went both upstream and downstream for a fair distance but saw no sign that ALT-R had emerged on the other side. 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives sighed. “So, two of our traitors are dead after all. And, the third we don’t really know anything about.” 

One of the trackers shook his head, “We are pretty sure he must have been swept away in the river. We saw clearly where he entered but there was no exit on the other side.” 

She-of-Many-Paths said, “No, I strongly suspect that he never intended to go to the other side. He went down stream a ways and may be returning toward us.” 

The tracker frowned. “But then he would have never made it to the rendezvous spot shown on the crude map he drew at the campfire. POND MUD seemed quite convinced that he was going to show up there. And save him. Somehow.” 

She-of-Many-Paths nodded. “Yes, I have no doubt that’s what POND MUD believed. But that was never part of ALT-R’s plan. He sent POND MUD just to draw you away from tracking him. I suspect he’s out there somewhere. You could go back to the river and check this side to pick up his trail.It may be too late. I am sorry now that I counseled this course of action for one of these three evil ones yet lives. We did destroy his worst weapon but now…I don’t know for sure, but this is what I strongly suspect: I think he will sneak back here and try to wreak some kind of revenge.” 

“As do I,” added She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. “As do I.” 

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Magic Portal to Other Kingdoms

Pattern Language Summary (A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation)

Try the Truth

Come Back to the Light Side

Your Cage is Unlocked

Happy Talk Lies

A Lot is not a Little

Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing

The Truth Train

Where do you Draw the Line?

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

My Cousin Bobby

Labelism

Wednesday

The Game

Starting Your Customer Experience with a Lie

Travels with Sadie: Teamwork

Travels with Sadie: Taking Turns

The Orange Man

The Forgotten Field

The Walkabout Diaries: Friends

The Walkabout Diaries: Ghosts of Flowers Past

The Walkabout Diaries: A Walk in the Park

An Open Sore from Hell

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Imagine All the People…

The Dance of Billions

 

Myths of the Veritas: The Battle of the Middle Path

04 Wednesday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, story, Veritas

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battle, cooperation, fiction, governance, greed, insight, leadership, life, myth, peace, politics, strategy, tactics, treason, truth, Veritas, war, writing

The Battle of the Middle Path. 

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As afternoon reached its warmest, the large main force of the Cupiditas reached the margin of the lands frequented by the Veritas. NUT-PI spied a knoll somewhat higher than the rest. He climbed atop this knoll and called his warriors to stand below and listen carefully as he spoke. 

“Behold, all Cupiditas, for you stand on the edge of victory! Soon, you will have a chance to fight bravely for all your people. Many of you will come home, not only as heroes, but as rich heroes, for you will have your share of the women and grain and gold of the Veritas. You will be glorified among our people. We have marked the path to take you into the very heart of the Veritas. ALT-R will lead you to the Center Place of the Veritas where you will meet up with more of our people as well as the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North and the Nomads of the Southern Dry Lands. I will stand atop this hill where I may better direct your efforts. Although this position is quite exposed and therefore more dangerous than being on the front lines, I do not care for I will be here and lead us to victory. Tonight we rest, but before dawn tomorrow, we attack!” 

ALT-R thought it strange that NUT-PI would not lead his warriors from the front of the pack but rather stay back on this large hill. He would not be in any danger at all. There were no Veritas around. And even so, an arrow shot up so far would be rather easy to dodge. And, although it was true that the knoll offered an excellent view in three directions, the battle itself would take place on the other side a rather large forest. NUT-PI would not be able to see any such battle. He could only hear reports from messengers. ALT-R would not question NUT-PI about any of this, he decided, because he knew NUT-PI to be a vain man who cared nothing for the truth and would literally kill one of his own who questioned him. Besides, ALT-R thought he might be able to turn NUT-PI’s style of leading at a distance to his own advantage. Though ALT-R was not a commander among the Cupiditas, they would be following his instructions on where to go and having gotten in the habit, once they reached the Center Place of the Veritas, the whole tribe might listen to his instructions on where to find treasure and how to divvy things up. 

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ALT-R was about to rest among a nice soft bed of moss that he knew grew in a small copse of trees nearby when one of the messengers of NUT-PI said that his presence was required by NUT-PI atop the hill. ALT-R knew he had no choice in the matter, but in case he did have any doubts, he was accompanied by four of NUT-PI’s guards. They ascended the hill and came to a small tent which had been pitched atop the knoll. In front, NUT-PI perched upon a small rock. He looked straight at ALT-R who had kowtowed as he had learned appropriate. “So, ALT-R, what do you think of my strategy to lead my force from this vantage point?” 

At this point, the guards drew back a distance they deemed respectful to NUT-PI but still close enough to function as guards with the spears at the ready to be thrown at — and through — ALT-R.

ALT-R bit his lip, unsure how to answer. “Sire, it is not for me to judge your decisions. My job is to show your warriors the ways through the guards of the Veritas, their traps, and the natural barriers so they may arrive near the Center Place unharmed, or at least, as little harmed as possible.” 

NUT-PI laughed. “So, you think my question a stupid one?”

ALT-R said, “Of course not! It’s a good question.”

NUT-PI’s voice changed to one of cold and steel, “Then answer it! I command you!” 

ALT-R began, “Well, the idea of being able to see the whole battle field before you is a good one. However, I am afraid that, if the battle goes as I imagine it will, you will not actually have a very good view from here. The Veritas are likely to engage us on the other side of that woods where there is a steep hill and then a large flat plain. Beyond that is a shallow river and beyond that is the Center Place of the Veritas, none of which can be seen from here.” Now ALT-R began to sweat even more. In his desire to show off his knowledge, he had perhaps said too much. 

NUT-PI laughed again, without any real mirth or warmth. “It’s more symbolic that anything else. Another reason I decided to stay back, between you and me, is that I want the men to gather glory for themselves, not me.”

ALT-R thought this very likely another bogus reason but aloud all he said was, “Indeed, Sire.”

NUT-PI winked at ALT-R. “I also have a bad blister on my heel. I don’t want to slow down the troops.” 

ALT-R suspected this might be part of the real reason, but he suspected that NUT-PI was a coward, pure and simple. Of course, to even hint at such would be to court, nay, guarantee, his own death so he tried to push these judgements out of his mind. 

NUT-PI’s voice now took on a happier tone. “I didn’t call you up here to get your opinion on my military strategy. I really want to tell you three things. First, do not fail in showing my people the way through to the Center Place. Second, do not imagine that you will become the leader of my people. I know you are the ambitious sort and it’s fine that you can be the slave-driver of the Veritas but if you try to vanquish me, you will die a horrible death. Third, when you come to the Center Place and capture the slaves, I want you to bring me the three most spirited of the Veritas women for my private amusement. I will personally torture them into submission. If you succeed in these three things, your life will prove most excellent. If you fail in any of these three tasks, your life will be short. But if you betray me in any way, your life will be much much longer than you will wish it to be. Now go and do as you are commanded.”

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The Veritas, meanwhile, discussed their own strategy. Their mood was euphoric for they now were buoyed by the thought that they had driven off both the Fierce and Formidable Fighters of the North and the Southern Nomads without really doing much battle at all! 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives frowned. “It is good, my people, that we have made peace where it was possible, but it is too soon to celebrate. We still have battle ahead. Do not underestimate the Cupiditas. Though we outnumber them, they are still many and well-trained. And, they have ALT-R’s help.” 

She-of-Many-Paths brought out some Ishago bones and waved them in the air. “I am not so sure that we outnumber them. We have all been saying that we outnumber the Cupiditas, and that may be so. But I am seeing another possibility. You see how it is among us. We are all equal. We all live, at least partly, in the Center Place together. But now think of the Cupiditas. They are all about power, not truth. They do not think of each other as equals. They have a society that has few at the top and many below. On those few occasions when any of the Veritas have visited, they have gone to their Central Place — or rather what such visitors assumed was their Central Place — and not seen so many as we ourselves are.” Here she again waved the bones in her hand upon which were inscribed marks for the Cupiditas who had been seen. 

“But I am thinking that those among us and our ancestors who made these counting marks may not have counted accurately. There may be a less desirable place than we ever visited with many more Cupiditas than we have ever seen. We may only have seen some of the Cupiditas. Perhaps many more live in less desirable circumstances. For it seems the nature of people who live as the Cupiditas that they don’t want everyone to live in similar circumstances. Rather, the happiness of the greedy few is contingent on having a much larger number of people with little. This was the nature of the Orange Man that we revile in myth but whom the Cupiditas celebrate in song. Even the war garb of the Cupiditas, besides the blood red, is orange to honor the Orange Man. So, it strikes me as entirely possible that we will face a much larger force of Cupiditas. I could be wrong. But I might not be. Such persons as have nothing might be whipped into a killing frenzy by someone such as NUT-PI who will blame all the troubles of the Cupiditas on us.”

Eagle Eyes spoke next, “I see us as a circle or better as a web within a circle. But when I try to imagine the Cupiditas, this is the shape I see.” Using the back of her spear, she drew a triangle in the dirt. “Here is NUT-PI and here are his captains.” Here she pointed at the apex of the triangle. “And the top part of this — this is what our people have seen of the Cupiditas. But down here — this large area may be all the Cupiditas whom no-one has seen.” 

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She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives nodded her agreement. “This may be so. Or not. But we must be prepared for a hard battle. We cannot assume that we will greatly outnumber them when it could be that they greatly outnumber us.” 

Trunk of Tree added, “Though we have heard nothing like that from KAVA-NUT or POND MUD.”

Shadow Walker said, “True, though they might not even themselves know of such. These traitors are meant to teach the Cupiditas about us, but I do not think they are experts in the Cupiditas ways.” 

She-of-Many-Paths spoke again, “You see how it is with many of our distant cousins in the forests. They grow and prosper by roots but also by fruits and seeds. So too must it be with us. We need numerous plans for numerous possibilities. Perhaps we will be lucky a third time and this battle will also prove easy, but it may also prove hard and for that we must be prepared. We should even have a way to warn the whole of us if the fierce and formidable of the north or the Sabra as they call themselves were to rejoin the battle.”  

And so it was that many possible contingency plans were outlined and such were communicated throughout the Veritas. Guards were rotated throughout the night. Each warrior, man or woman, attempted to get what rest they could and dreamed whatever dreams they might. Each warrior, man or woman, knew that they would be fighting on the morrow and that such a day as that could be their last on this green earth, the last on which to feel a loving touch or laugh at the antics of a child. They knew they would be fighting for their life but also for the life of the tribe, the Veritas, the way of the truth, and what happened would not only echo through their own life but also the lives of people yet unborn. Moreover, since greedy people care not for anything but themselves, the skill and intelligence of the Veritas on the morrow would also impact the tree of life itself, at least in this part of the world that they knew and loved. 

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As the still-sunken sun began to paint the palest pink strokes upon the clouds, the Cupiditas awoke and began their relentless march, following ALT-R and the trees marked with the rat-god AGAM upon their trunks. The Cupiditas were numerous indeed. As had been foreseen by She-of-Many-Paths, the Veritas had only ever visited the relatively rich main camp of the Cupiditas. In many scattered camps on the border of the northern wastes, a much greater number of Cupiditas eked out a living as best they could. All the males beyond the age of 10 winters had been conscripted to join the throng. They had not been made false promises of riches as had the warrior class. NUT-PI had told the lesser minions that they had no choice if they wished to see their loved ones alive. He had also been careful to paint a picture of the Veritas as monster criminals who, if left unchecked, would come and destroy all the camps of the Cupiditas just as they “always did.” NUT-PI concocted quite a gruesome tale about how the Veritas were a bloodthirsty lot and especially like to cut the arms and necks of Cupiditas women and children and suck out their blood until they died. 

Though numerous, these second-class Cupiditas were not nearly so well-trained as the warriors in the central camp. They were eager to get to kill a Veritas or two and return to their own villages. They began advancing in a broad line without regard to the path ALT-R was taking. Many followed the markings on the true path to the Center Camp of the Veritas, but many others followed false trails into brambles or box canyons. ALT-R began seeing Cupiditas beside him both north and south and some even were ahead of him. He spoke loudly. 

“Listen! Follow me! There are also false trails. Keep in narrow file through the woods! On the other side we may gather atop a hill for a mighty charge down the hill onto the plain!” At these words, two or three of the Cupiditas drew near him to follow in his footsteps. The vast majority looked over at ALT-R, stopped for a few moments with a puzzled look, and then resumed fanning out into the forest. ALT-R was supposed to lead the Cupiditas but had no real title among them. More importantly, he was far from facile with their language. ALT-R grew exasperated and began shouting his instructions. To the Cupiditas, this made his speech all the more unintelligible and most ignored him. He shouted more loudly, “FOLLOW the true path, not the false ones, you …” But here ALT-R broke off from shouting. He didn’t know the Cupiditas word for “stupid” and, he realized his words were having no effect. He retraced his steps till he came upon a Cupiditas dressed and face-painted as one of the captains in authority. Slowly, he used gestures and made the man, named OR-man-AA realize that everyone was supposed to be following his lead. He saw that the lower class Cupiditas were getting too far ahead. OR-man-AA didn’t really see this as a problem. On the other hand, he did know that NUT-PI had ordered everyone to follow ALT-R through the woods so he shouted this to his nearby lieutenants who in turn made cursory efforts to organize the troops. Had NUT-PI been close by, their efforts would have been more diligent, but as it was, they saw little point. 

Indeed, the false paths led only a few of the scattered throng of Cupiditas to their death and a few more to injury. By dawn, a huge number of Cupiditas milled about the far edge of the forest in the deep shade waiting for the order to attack. About fifty yards before them, a long steep hill led down to a large flat plain where they could see a small force of Veritas soldiers raising their spears and shouting at them. Beyond, they could see the stream that the three traitors had foretold, and just beyond that the smoke of the morning fires of the Veritas Central Place. Seeing that they vastly outnumbered the small band of Veritas visible on the plain below, OR-man-AA shouted at them to ready their weapons and charge. They sprinted the fifty yards to the edge of the long hill and began sprinting down it. 

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ALT-R had hoped to lead this charge but instead, being only of average speed, he found himself in the middle of it. There were so many Cupiditas all about him that he found it difficult to see much more than Cupiditas running beside him, behind him and in front of him. As he came to the edge of the hill, his view of the downslope and the plain below opened up suddenly. The Cupiditas warriors were slipping and sliding and falling all around him. He found it incredibly difficult to keep his footing as he ran. He usually walked carefully down this slope but had never slipped or fallen. The slope seemed littered with round rocks everywhere. Cupiditas warriors were tripping and falling everywhere. A few were nicked by the poison tipped weapons of the captains and a few were trampled. A few suffered broken ankles. Most simply fell a few times, got back up and continued their headlong descent. Before them, ALT-R could see that the Veritas were in full retreat rushing back to their Center Place. About halfway down the hill, ALT-R noticed that the bottom of the hill looked somehow different than he remembered it. “TRAPS!” he shouted in his native Veritas tongue. Already, the fastest among the Cupiditas were falling through the carefully camouflaged coverings. “TRAPS!” he shouted again and began trying to angle off to the left so as to avoid the traps. None among the Cupiditas heeded his words, which had been uttered in Veritas, but some began to see that the bottom of the hill was indeed a trap. Just as ALT-R had tried to do, many began to try to veer away from the traps but some veered left and some veered right so that many simply impeded each other. ALT-R managed to barely avoid falling into one of these pits himself and as he glanced over his right shoulder he could see that the bottom of the traps had upward pointing sharpened bamboo poles which had impaled many of the Cupiditas. He ran still farther left into a thick copse of birch trees. He had to get out of this battle and take a moment to think. Think, he commanded himself. 

The first thought that occurred to him was that victory was now far from certain. His second thought was that NUT-PI would likely discover that ALT-R had failed at his main job of leading the Cupiditas troops safely into the Center Place of the Veritas. If NUT-PI thought this was incompetence, he would die quickly. If NUT-PI thought it treachery, a more likely outcome, he had promised ALT-R a long, slow torturous death. ALT-R snuck carefully to the edge of the copse. He could see the small band of Veritas warriors had retreated to the Center Place. There was no sign of the other two forces that were supposed to converge on the battlefield. Meanwhile, the Cupiditas continued to pour down the hill. They seemed to be more able to avoid falling and tripping now and many were veering to left or right rather than straight ahead. The number falling into the pit seemed far fewer and some of those who did were running atop the piled bodies of their countrymen. 

Once the nomads from the south and the fierce and formidable warriors of the north showed up, the Veritas would be overwhelmed. If ALT-R were able to accomplish his mission of capturing some spirited women for NUT-PI, he might still escape with his life. He wondered whether perhaps he should try to sneak into the Center Place before the main force but dismissed the idea as too dangerous. He concluded that he would observe from this location and wait for all three armies to converge. Then, there would be general chaos and he would have his best chance for capturing three women. Of course, there would also be more competition. ALT-R had been so preoccupied with trying to ensure that he successfully led the Cupiditas to the Center Place that he had only felt vaguely uncomfortable about fetching three Veritas women for NUT-PI. But now that he did have time, he realized that the third condition would be extremely difficult to achieve. ALT-R knew that he was not held in high esteem by the Cupiditas. One Arrow. He had no official position with the Cupiditas. Two Arrows. Any of the Veritas who might meet him would try to kill him on sight. Three Arrows. In fact, how could he capture three spirited women with no help from anyone? NUT-PI had intentionally given him a task that he would fail at! But why would he do that? ALT-R’s mind was racing ahead and he began to concentrate so hard that the chaos of the battle in front of him seemed no more consequential than clouds passing in the sky. He realized that NUT-PI not only didn’t trust him; he shouldn’t trust him because, after all, he was a traitor! No-one trusts me, he realized, perhaps for the first time, nor should they!

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“THWANGGGGG!” ALT-R’s attention snapped back to current circumstances in a flash thanks to an arrow that embedded itself in the white-barked birch trunk only a few inches from his head. He peered out into the field and saw Cupiditas running in many directions but mainly toward the shallow creek while the Veritas warriors had seemed to retreat. But there were no fortifications. ALT-R couldn’t imagine why the Veritas warriors chose that unfortified position. But just then another arrow whacked into the tree near ALT-R’s kneecap. Where the hell were these arrows coming from? Not from the Veritas who had gone to guard the Center Place. ALT-R knew that he would have to join the fray to have any chance of gaining personally from this war. But then again, it would be risky to join in the fray when the outcome was still uncertain. He thought: What the hell is delaying the nomads of the south? Did POND MUD screw them up somehow? And, for that matter, why do I only see the blue & green of Veritas and the orange & red of the Cupiditas? Where is KAVA-NUT? And where the hell are the arrows coming from? 

As ALT-R looked out, he realized finally that there must have been many more Veritas in these woods on both sides of the plain. They were targeting the brightly colored clothes of the Cupiditas. The Cupiditas preferred clubs, knives, and spears. However, the fraction who survived the downhill and traps had been focused on trying to attack the Center Place and it seemed to take a long time for them to realize that they were being attacked on both sides. Eventually, the still considerable throng somehow came to the realization that moving back and forth between the two rows and trees trying to flush the Veritas out was a losing proposition. Maybe this was the time to rejoin the fray. As the Cupiditas began to listen to their remaining captains, they began regrouping in a throng next to the near side of the river. The warriors on the outside deployed their shields. The hail of arrows had stopped, at least temporarily. ALT-R ran to the front of the group gesturing and shouting,  “FOLLOW ME!” 

Compared with the warriors of the Cupiditas, ALT-R’s body was much more rested and he was more lightly armed and armored. He was the first to reach the stream. ALT-R thought this dramatic move might just earn him enough respect to at least share in the bounty. His plan was to stop on the other side until a large contingent of Cupiditas could be there. He planned to pretend to lead the charge and direct people while slowly working has way back toward and then back across the river. An odd sense of deja vu overcame ALT-R as he splashed through the river toward the Center Place. Yet, he also had a sense of foreboding. Something was not right. Why was the river so narrow and shallow? Why were the Veritas being so stupid? They could easily be overwhelmed here. Just as he reached the far side, a loud rumbling, crashing noise like bubbling thunder began. He turned to see the throng of Cupiditas warriors wading across the river. They sprinted as best they could when they stopped as though suddenly stupefied. As one, they turned their heads upstream to see a wall of water heading their way. Suddenly, they were gone. ALT-R found himself alone with the Veritas warriors who were advancing on him with spears pointed toward him. 

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On the other side of the river, which had magically grown to a torrent, a few scattered Cupiditas warriors were running back toward the steep hill. They now avoided the traps, but climbing back up the hill proved difficult. Veritas archers deployed from the woods on both sides and began shooting arrows toward the fleeing warriors. In their desperate attempts to clamber back up the steep slope, many pushed or pulled on their compatriots. This ploy tended to make both soldiers slide farther back down the slope, only to become easier targets for the Veritas archers. Some few managed to escape to the relative safety of the hilltop and slid into the shadows of the forest. ALT-R saw howling wolves pursue them. 

Among these Cupiditas survivors, only one remained faithful enough to NUT-PI to wend his way through the forests and find his way back to the hilltop where NUT-PI waited with a dozen heavily armed guards. The man’s name was UR-yapl-NA who had suffered a severely sprained ankle but was otherwise unharmed. NUT-PI hailed him and demanded that he ascend the knoll and report on progress. After struggling up the knoll, he knelt before NUT-PI and recounted as best he could the slippery hill, the archers, and the broad shallow stream that magically became a raging torrent that had swept away most of his remaining soldiers. Only ALT-R had arrived safely on the other side. When NUT-PI questioned him about the fierce and formidable warriors of the North and the nomads of the South, UR-yapl-NA answered that he had seen no such people on the battlefield. 

NUT-PI sat silently for a long while and then gestured for his guards to behead the hapless messenger. NUT-PI then ordered his guards to gather up their supplies and they headed back to their own village. His sore heel no longer bothered him. He told the guards that it was their duty to now head back and protect their village. He walked in silence, bent on constructing a story filled with Cupiditas strength and courage and cunning that was unfortunately overcome through Veritas treachery and magic. In this narrative, he himself would be the main hero and all that stood between safety and an all-out decimation by marauding Veritas who would wipe out or enslave every last man, woman, and child among the Cupiditas. He became so obsessed with perfecting his story and mentally rehearsing it, that the failed to notice that his guards fell back ten then twenty paces and began whispering amongst themselves. 

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Meanwhile, back at the Center Place, ALT-R had surrendered himself to the Veritas warriors who had surrounded him in the Center Place. He had been stripped to search for hidden weapons and then thrown into a small cell in a heavily guarded stockade, not far from KAVA-NUT and POND MUD though ALT-R did not yet know this. When ALT-R had convinced himself that there was no possible escape from his prison cell, he sat on the hard earthen floor with his back against the log wall upon which sunlight provided some slight warmth. Over the next few hours, by overhearing shreds of random conversations of Veritas folk, he learned that the Cupiditas had been completely defeated; that POND MUD and KAVA-NUT had both been captured; that the promised help from the fierce and formidable foes of the North had never come. Nor had the nomads of the South joined in the fray. He wondered how he could get a message to KAVA-NUT and POND MUD and how they might escape. Would POND MUD and KAVA-NUT trust him? He thought not. In fact, he realized, no-one on this earth trusted him. No-one. He knew that he was no longer a welcome part of the great and varied people of the Veritas. He strongly suspected that he would not be welcome among the Cupiditas either, should any yet survive. They would blame him for leading them to their death and probably imagine he had done so on purpose. That was almost certainly what NUT-PI would think.

“No-one trusts a traitor.” He spoke these words aloud though he had not meant to. ALT-R cursed himself and beat the hard dirt with his fists. He had lived and schemed among the Cupiditas for only a short time but he realized that he hated being in league with them. Their way of putting greed and power over truth and cooperation was stupid. He realized that if everyone lied and manipulated the way he himself had done, the results were always doomed in the long run. If everyone were like ALT-R, there would be no camps. There would be no baskets, no learning, no hunting parties. We would all be beasts. We will be wolves without a pack, horses without a herd, bees without a hive. Truth builds us up together and lies tear us apart. How had he failed to see this, he wondered. 

He lay exhausted on the hard dirt floor at last and began to drift off to sleep. In the distance, he heard the happy chanting, singing, and dancing feet of the Veritas. He could not make out the words but he nonetheless felt a strange comfort in the sound of his own language being sung so tunefully. And though the warmth of the flames of the central fire flicked far from his cell, he imagined the flames and thought of their warmth. He remembered staring into those flames as a youngster as he found some temporary peace in this, the Center Place of his dreams. 

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Magic Portal to Other Worlds 

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Essays on America: Wednesday

The Loud Defense of Untenable Positions

Happy Talk Lies

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

An Open Sore from Hell

Somewhere a Bird Cries

My Cousin Bobby

Labelism

You Bet Your Life

The Orange Man

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Mango Mussolini

 

Myths of the Veritas: The Battle of the Southern Path

03 Tuesday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, psychology, Veritas

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empathy, fiction, greed, leadership, learning, myths, peace, politics, science, story, strategy, trust, truth, Veritas, war, writing

The Battle of the Southern Path

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POND MUD awoke with a start. He had heard something that didn’t sound right. Something was out of place. His cabin walls had disappeared! He sat up and saw campfires arranged in a strange pattern. He shook the sleep from his head and remembered that he was not in the Center Place of the Veritas. He was out on a raiding party with the Cupiditas; that he had joined up with them. They were about to have a battle, he reminded himself. It was time to keep his wits about him. He took out a small leather pouch from beneath his tunic and felt for his rings of empathy.

Oh, right, he thought. He grimaced ruefully as he remembered those are gone as well. He was with the Cupiditas now. About to have a battle. Which they would win. And, then, he could be king with ALT-R and have She-of-Many-Paths as his slave. 

He went to relieve himself and returned to the campfire, still in a bad mood. Every day, he had to remind himself that he had chosen his path and now he was committed to it. These Cupiditas, a strong lot, on the whole, constituted his new tribe. Their food might be primitive, but it filled his belly. Though not generally interested in small talk, he ventured to ask the four Cupiditas who shared his small fire and breakfast, whether they had ideas about why fish did not drown in the water and whether it had anything to do with their blowing bubbles. None of them had ever noticed fish blowing bubbles and none of them found it to be a question that held the least interest. But it was NUT-PI’s captain, HANK man-GER, who took it upon himself to poke fun of POND MUD. 

“So, POND MUD, do all the people of the Veritas speculate on such meaningless and stupid questions or is it only you?” 

POND MUD was not even so skilled as ALT-R in speaking and listening to the strange and toneless language of the Cupiditas, but he knew he was being insulted. He was not in the mood for it. 

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“I’ll show you what we do,” roared POND MUD. He leapt across the small space between them and used a hip throw to toss the Cupiditas captain on the ground. All he had meant to do was blow off some steam and hopefully garner some respect from the Cupiditas. POND MUD had no thought to follow up and hit a man while down. But HANK man-GER now felt his pride had been wounded. From the suddenness and force of the throw, he knew he could not overpower POND MUD, but he did have a trick or two. He lay on his back moaning, rolling slightly from side to side. 

At first, POND MUD felt good to have thrown him down but now he began to worry that he had actually injured his captain. He walked over and knelt beside him asking, “Are you okay?” 

HANK man-GER shook his head piteously, “No, it’s my ankle. I think you broke it!” 

POND MUD felt the ankle with both of his yet skillful hands, looking away from HANK toward his feet and feeling carefully. “No, I don’t feel any….” 

“ARGH!” POND MUD screamed and whirled to see HANK man-GER leaping at him, dagger point first. POND MUD knocked his hand aside but he was a fraction late. HANK had cut him in the side, though not deeply. With a yell, POND MUD, grabbed the hapless fellow around the head and snapped his neck. “Oh, hell! It was self-defense! You all saw it!” POND MUD expected the men to rush at him and kill him or at least imprison him for slaying their captain. But this was not the way of the Cupiditas. POND MUD had ousted HANK in a fair fight — or at least in a fight as fair as they ever were among the Cupiditas. For this reason, despite their underlying contempt for POND MUD, they immediately bowed their heads toward POND MUD and chanted something that could only mean he was their new leader. POND MUD found this extremely odd. Though he had turned traitor to the Veritas, he had grown up among them and he found this custom of replacing a leader by killing odd, exciting, disgusting, and yet it had all worked out. Good, he thought, now I can be their leader.

 

Through gestures and grunts as well as the few words he had picked up, he explained that he was going to show them some of the typical moves of Veritas warriors. Every so often, he glanced at the lifeless crumpled body of HANK man-GER and wondered that no-one seemed concerned with burying the body. With a flush, POND MUD realized that they were waiting for his order. Fine, he thought. “You two! Take this body and bury it so neither bear, nor wolf, nor Veritas may defile it.” So it was done. With some sweat, they dug a fairly shallow grave in the rocky soil and piled many more rocks atop. While they were engaged in this task, POND MUD searched for some medicinal herbs and boiled up a poultice for his wound which was fairly minor. He strapped it tightly to promote healing and prevent infection. 

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POND MUD continued training his new charges in the fighting ways of the Veritas through the afternoon. Concentrating thus, he suddenly realized that the nomads of the south were everywhere. They had come into camp noiselessly, invisibly. Each man wore a long, hooded robe whose shape was difficult to discern because of the camouflage pattern on their robes. 

“Who among you is the leader, for I am now the leader of this band of Cupiditas and will be leading our joint foray. For I know the Veritas and all the paths and byways and will lead us to victory!” He said this in both the tongues of the Veritas and in his broken, nearly unintelligible Cupiditas. He supplemented both of his speeches with sign language. Eventually, he made himself clear whereupon the entire contingent of nomads began laughing. One stepped forward toward POND MUD. 

“I am DAN-ergo CREEP, leader of the southern nomads.” He spoke Veritas! He spoke it well. POND MUD found himself wondering at this, but now at least he could speak more easily. Yet, no matter how he argued or presented his case, the DAN-ergo CREEP kept coming back to a very simple point. The southern nomads greatly outnumbered the small band of Cupiditas and he would therefore be the leader of the army, not POND MUD, the chieftain carefully explained. If he wanted to relay orders to the Cupiditas, fine, but the battle plan would come from DAN-ergo CREEP. On the other hand, the chieftain was glad to have POND MUD’s input on the lay of the land and where the weak points of the Veritas were. POND MUD had enjoyed his brief reign as leader. But he saw that he would have to subordinate himself to this stranger for now or risk losing the help of all the nomads of the south. That would not be something he wanted to explain to NUT-PI or to ALT-R. They would need all their combined strength to enslave the Veritas once and for all. He assented to being under the command of the southern nomad leader and found himself wondering how the advances under KAVA-NUT and NUT-PI were coming. The attack was scheduled for pre-dawn the following morning. Once more, POND MUD found himself relishing the form of She-of-Many-Paths and reminded himself that he would soon own her. Each time he thought of her, he recalled how awkward and stupid she had made him feel. This made him feel angry toward her. And, he also felt guilty about not telling the truth to ALT-R about their accidental encounter. But what would have been the point? ALT-R & NUT-PI would simply have berated him and made him feel stupid. His rage toward She-of-Many-Paths redoubled and he gritted his teeth and clenched and unclenched his fist. He fantasized about all the things he would make her do. 

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Meanwhile, the Veritas were making their plans in light of new information received from KAVA-NUT. In Dialog, they examined the question as to whether they might not find a peaceful way with regard to the nomads of the south, with whom they had generally had good relations. Someone mentioned that “unfortunate incident with Dares-and-Cares.” 

“Unfortunate.” began She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives,  “My that is an interesting word. Anyway, that murderer was a murderer and he happened to be from the tribe of the nomads. I think it would be worth a try to cleave them off from the Cupiditas. But consider, none of us speaks their language with subtlety. If we approach them in numbers, we may very well instigate the very war we seek to avoid. And if we approach with one or a few, we invite capture and torture for information.”

She-of-Many-Paths sensed that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had more in her heart than what she spoke with her words. But the shaman always showed wisdom in what she said and in what she did not say. She-of-Many-Paths made a mental note to ask her further but in private. However, and much to her surprise, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives rose and continued speaking while pacing back and forth. “I see that She-of-Many-Paths knows there is more in my heart than what I have said. That is true. Before most of you were born, I loved a man whom the tribe called Dares-and-Cares for he was both extremely brave and extremely caring. Before we could become one, he agreed to a dangerous errand for the tribe, traveling alone to the land where dwell the nomads of the south in order to advance the idea of further trade. Before he reached their center space, however, he was attacked and murdered by a band of such nomads. They stole his possessions and stole the heart of my heart as well.”   

After a respectful silence, Shadow Walker asked, “Then, why did you not tell us so that we may be forewarned of the Nomads of the South?” 

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“Exactly for that reason. There are important lessons to be learned from such events, but under such circumstances of sorrow and deep hurt, it is easy to draw the wrong lesson. It is easy to conclude, though logic would not support it, that all the Nomads of the South are bad just based on this one incident. That is precisely how wars start. One stupid over-generalization leads to another. Such a path of reasoning was even more likely because, you see, I partly blamed myself. I had seen such possible danger, but could not convince him to go with many guards. He was concerned that such a show of force might encourage attack. I saw the wisdom in this. After all, he was called Dares-and-Cares. This was his nature. And though I am called “She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives”, you see, I was unable to save the one life I cared most about. It would be very easy under such a circumstance to fear and therefore hate all the Nomads of the South. Yet, this would be an error. Such is not the way of the Veritas.

“Nor is such the way of the Nomads either, for they considered the attack a crime and the responsible thieves were killed and both the body and possessions were returned to us. The truth is almost never so simple as we might like it to be. Some among the Veritas were then roused to anger for Dares-and-Cares was well beloved by the tribe and not only by me.”

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She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives now turned to speak directly to She-of-Many-Paths. “Luckily, cooler heads prevailed. I tell you this now because I know that your mind and your heart, are prepared to accept truth in its complexity and not in some over-simple version. You see how it is. It’s important to know that water flows downhill. Yet, it is also the nature of water to bend and turn this way and that, thus avoiding obstacles. Trees grow up toward the sun. Yet, as we proved with the experiment in hiding the cave, trees may be bent away from their natural predisposition. We cannot tell about a whole people from a few examples. Imagine that other tribes thought that KAVA-NUT, ALT-R and POND MUD proved the nature of the Veritas. Three blackberries rotten with mold do not mean one must never eat of any blackberries whatsoever. Though it is important to remove the moldy ones quickly or they may indeed rot the whole.” 

She-of-Many-Paths offered to go and parley with POND MUD and the nomads of the south. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives looked long and hard into the heart of She-of-Many-Paths. “You have already shown yourself to be fine thinker and a fine leader. The people need you as a leader even more than they need your bravery.”

“I do see the wisdom of your words, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. Yet, how could I lead my people into a possibly fatal battle if I am unwilling to risk my own life. I will not be a leader who puts others at risk but never puts myself at risk. Such a person is not a true leader. And, if I ever need to ask the people on a difficult path, they must believe I am willing myself to walk any such difficult path.” 

Shadow Walker spoke next, “Let us go together then, She-of-Many-Paths. If there is trouble, I can hold them off perhaps until you can retreat to safety.” 

“I will fight beside you if necessary, Shadow Walker. I have no desire to… I would be greatly troubled if you died in battle and particularly so if I used that opportunity to escape. I wish we could call POND MUD as easily as the wolves can call each other. I feel his heart is troubled. But approaching him is indeed dangerous in this current circumstance.” 

Eagle Eyes added, “I wish I could call to him, as easily as I do the eagles.” All in earshot thought on this image in silence. 

Trunk-of-Tree then stood up suddenly and spoke, “But we can!” 

She-of-Many-Paths said, “What do you mean, Trunk-of-Tree? Scream like an eagle? Howl like a wolf?” 

“No,” said Trunk-of-Tree, “but we all learn to speak with drums!”   

“This is true!” said She-of-Many-Paths. “We can encourage POND MUD to come parley with us and hopefully to bring the head of the nomads of the south. If the two of them come alone, we will parley. If they do not come, we wait for their advance or wait them out and attack them first. But in neither case, must one or two go alone and put themselves in grave danger.” 

Fleet-of-Foot spoke thus, “You are brilliant, She-of-Many-Paths!” 

“Thanks you for saying so, Fleet-of-Foot, but this idea came from Trunk-of-Tree, not me. Where shall we set up our signal drum?” 

Eagle Eyes chimed in eagerly, “I know just the spot! Up on that cliff is the perfect place. Too far from the enemy to be shot by an arrow. It’s above the tree line so the sound will carry across that plain below. Also, behind where I point, the rock is curved and this somehow makes the sound stronger and travel farther. If one plays loudly and slowly, POND MUD cannot fail to hear it, though what he might or might not do is anyone’s guess.”  

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“So,” asked She-of-Many-Paths, “What, exactly, do we tell POND MUD? He is the only one who will know what the drums mean. At least, I am fairly sure of that. Do we offer him a chance to rejoin the tribe?” 

Shadow-Walker snorted, “None have been banished and then rejoined the tribe. None banished have ever been heard from again. They all should have died. We cannot offer him a place back in the tribe. This has never been done in memory. Has it?” Here he looked at She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. 

“I have not heard of such,” said the Shaman. “That does not mean it is not here the correct path. Would it encourage others to bear false witness as POND MUD and ALT-R have done? I do not judge it so. But I question whether we could ever actually trust any of them again. It is good to try to trust, but that trio has broken our trust many times now.” 

“Indeed,” said Eagle Eyes. “It seems to me that the shape of their soul is too defined now for change. And, worse, as you pointed out, one moldy blackberry can spoil everything. For everyone.”

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“I think it would have been more merciful to have killed all three of them outright,” said Fleet-of-Foot. “Had we done that, we wouldn’t be on this precipice of disaster. And they deserved to die. That’s surely what happens to most who are banished anyway.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke softly. “I cannot say that I have no desire to see them dead — all three of them — and not only for what they tried to do to me, but also — and more so — for betraying our people. On the other hand, we have learned much important intelligence from POND MUD’s conversation with She-of-Many-Paths and from the angry ravings of KAVA NUT. I find that it pleases me greatly to see him hanging there eyeless. But I do not like being pleased by his suffering, however much he deserves it. I do not want to become the kind of monster that they are.”

She-of-Many-Paths spoke next, “Time is not our friend. We do not know when the Cupiditas will attack on the Middle Path. We must act quickly. Since we do not know our own mind, why not simply avoid making any specific promises? We tell POND MUD the truth — that we do not yet know whether he can ever be a member of our tribe again; that some speak for it and some speak against it. It will depend on what transpires, what he tells us, and upon what the nomads of the south do, and upon what all of the people of the Veritas decide. We can only promise that if he comes to parley, we will not ambush and kill him. I think he will know from his long years of experience with us that we will be true to our words, for that is the very essence of the Veritas. He will be free to rejoin his new tribe and fight with them; to fight with us, under supervision, or indeed, to walk his own way. We should begin by reminding POND MUD that he is one of us, and therefore once beloved among the Veritas.” 

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So, it came to pass that the drumming began and was easily heard in the camp where the nomads of the south worked with POND MUD and a handful of warriors of the Cupiditas on their plans for conquest. 

DAN-ergo CREEP was the first to comment. “What is this noise? Where is that drumming coming from?” He stared directly and POND MUD as he said this. 

POND MUD answered, “Probably just trying to annoy us and keep us up all night to weaken us for battle, but that’s a stupid plan because it will keep them up as well.”

DAN-ergo CREEP thought perhaps there was more to it than annoyance. “If it’s just to annoy, why is it so regular? Not quite a dance, but … does it mean anything?”

POND MUD again felt obliged to answer, “No, it’s just stupid. They are drumming about our nice warm cabins and about the quest for the rings of empathy and how … “ And, here he broke off from embarrassment. For the drums were now calling to him specifically and reminding him of how much fun he had had with his friends when they were learning to stalk, and learn the ways of plants and how they healed. And POND MUD realized that She-of-Many-Paths had been the one to show him the plantain and witch hazel leaves that he had used a few hours ago to help prevent infection. The drums now spoke of how POND MUD had won many contests of strength and how all his friends had cheered for him. 

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“WELL?!” DAN-ergo CREEP asked loudly. “What are they drumming on about? If they are telling their battle plans to their scouts, say so! Or, are they signaling only you?” 

“I have no idea what their purpose is, Sire. Partly they are just drumming on about my childhood. Nothing has been mentioned about strategy yet.” 

On and on, the drumming continued. All practice had stopped among the Cupiditas and the Nomads. Everyone became fascinated by the on-again, off-again rhythm and patterns that folded into other patterns. And just when the brain began to predict what might come next, the melody and rhythm would drift off into yet another unexpected dimension. 

POND MUD gave a fairly accurate rendition about the drums but didn’t go into the details about his childhood that he was reminded of. Nor, did he transmit the idea that some, though not all, of the Veritas would consider reinstating him in the tribe. Were they trying to trick him? Could it be true? Maybe they just want to use me to find out about their enemies and then they’ll toss me out again. POND MUD suddenly became aware that he hadn’t said anything out loud for awhile. All the men were staring at him, waiting for him to continue his explanation of the drumming. So, he resumed his real-time and uncommented translation into the Veritas that DAN-ergo CREEP well understood. He in turn, translated into their own tongue. So far as POND MUD could tell, the few Cupiditas among them had no idea what was being transmitted by the drumming. 

“They want me to ask you, that is, the Southern Nomads, what your quarrel is with the Veritas and why you go to war and what you hope to gain from such a war even if successful. They say that they are a peaceful people who have never attacked you and have no desire to do so. The Veritas are a peaceful people. You know this from your own experience. We have never attacked you. And, until now, you have never attacked us. So, why now? What could you possibly gain that you could not gain in trade? Also, consider this; you have also not been attacked by the fierce warriors of the north nor by the Cupiditas. Why? A large part of that reason is that they would have to go through us to get to you, at least by any whatsoever direct route. Though we have no formal agreement, we actually make things more peaceable. Also please consider this. Whatever you have been told as to what you might or might not gain, you have no guarantee that you will gain any of that. The leader of the Cupiditas, NUT-PI cannot be trusted. Nor can the…the…the … don’t know that drumming. Whereas if we promised you something, we would keep that promise. This you know in your heart to be true. All we ask is that POND MUD and the leader of the nomads come parley with two of us alone and let us speak as true siblings about what each other might gain or lose from fighting or not fighting. We drummed to POND MUD because we were afraid to send just a few people into your camp. You might capture such and torture them for information. And, we didn’t want to send a large force into your camp because that might spark the very war we hope to avoid. If you come into the large clearing beneath the flat-topped hill, and stand near the sharp blue rock, you will be able to see that just two of us will approach you for parley. Come now. Come before dark. If you come, we may be able to avoid a war where many will die on both sides. We may fail. But what is the harm in trying? If there is no war, POND MUD can plead his case to rejoin the Veritas though we cannot guarantee that he will be successful. If he prefers, he may live with the Southern Nomads. Or, he may go live with the Cupiditas though it seems the Cupiditas have set their hearts on war. This is a war of their making. Not ours. What they can possibly gain will be little. What they can possibly lose is everything. But of the little they may gain, they will only give any such who help them a small fraction of that tiny gain, regardless of what they may have told you.” The drumming paused for a time and then began the entire message again.

“WELL!?” demanded DAN-ergo CREEP. 

“Well, what?” countered POND MUD. “What is your question?” 

DAN-ergo CREEP gritted his teeth and shook his head, but then he spoke quietly to POND MUD. “Do you think they are telling the truth? And do you think we should go to this parley or is it just a trap? What do you think about what they said? You are from there?”

POND MUD spoke quickly. “Oh, they are telling the truth. Or, at least a part of it. They would consider it a huge dishonor to invite you to a parley and then ambush you. So, it’s not a trick in that way. Though I don’t know why they want to avoid war. But I am pretty sure they do want to avoid it.” 

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DAN-ergo CREEP stared at POND MUD, “Well, maybe they just want to avoid it because they don’t like killing people and being killed. But I am concerned about one thing. They seem to know about us and about the fierce warriors of the north. Yet, NUT-PI’s envoy told us that the Veritas would know nothing about our involvement. And, how did they know you were here, POND MUD? Answer me that?”

“The Veritas are clever. They have good scouts. And some have good eyes. Very good eyes. I’m … well, I’m easy to spot … and everyone from the Veritas would recognize me. As for the rest, I have no idea. My best guess would be the same: the foreword scouts recognized you by your garb and the same for the Northern Warriors.”

DAN-ergo CREEP stared hard at POND MUD. “You sure you are not sending some kind of signal back to them?” 

“No! Of course not! I have had no contact since I was exiled. I saw one of the Veritas, but she didn’t see me. And, I didn’t say anything to her. I don’t like them. They exiled me!”

DAN-ergo considered, “So you say. But I don’t have any independent evidence of that. Do I?” 

POND MUD thought about it. “Well, why would we go to the Cupiditas in the first place if we hadn’t been exiled? It’s much nicer … I mean … we just wouldn’t have any reason to leave the Veritas. She-of-Many…I mean, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives is a good leader and…I think we should go and hear what they have to say. I myself could take any two of the other Veritas in a fight and you’ll be there as well. They won’t ambush us. This I know.” 

After another half hour’s discussion, it was agreed that POND MUD and DAN-ergo CREEP would go to parley. There was some considerable objection raised by the Cupiditas among them but it was short-lived. POND MUD reminded them that he was their leader now. Having a parley would almost certainly not mean no war. But it might give them an opportunity to judge the weaknesses of the Veritas; to plant false information; to intimidate them. 

So it was that POND MUD and DAN-ergo CREEP walked off to the designated place in the clearing. While the chosen spot, it was true, would afford a clear view in all directions, in order to arrive there, they would have to traverse many dangerous places. POND MUD took very little precaution for he was quite sure that the Veritas would not ambush them. He strongly suspected that the entire message of the drums was in earnest, including the part about possibly letting him rejoin the tribe. Did he really want to do that though? Among the Veritas, his strength was just seen as an asset, both to POND MUD himself, and to the tribe as a whole. Among the Cupiditas, however, strength was king. And, he would never be leader of the Veritas. That would be one of the other men like Fleet-of-Foot or Trunk of Tree or Shadow Walker. Even if they accepted him back, he would never be Ruler of the Veritas. But with ALT-R’s plan, he could be a pretty near thing to a King. And, everyone would have to respect him. Even She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. Although She-of-Many-Paths says she was just trying to teach me, not humiliate me. He gritted his teeth and thought: She drives me crazy! They both do! Anyway, ALT-R made the war seem an important and inevitable path. But then, She-of-Many-Paths said I could never trust ALT-R. That he was always out for himself. She doesn’t know! 

“Are you sure you’re on the right path, POND MUD?”

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“WHAT?” DAN-ergo’s question had broken his reverie.  “Oh. Let’s see. Yes, see the light through that line of trees? Once we pass through there, we will descend into that flat plain that the drums spoke of. We’ll be there momentarily.” 

They walked in silence for a moment, when POND MUD spoke to his companion. “I have a question, Sire. In the lands that we call the Southern Nomads, are there any fish that seem to blow bubbles?” 

“Yes. Strange fish in the ocean that raise their young and feed them milk. Yet, they breathe air as do we. Why do you ask?” 

“Well, if you were stuck in quicksand, what would you do to stay alive?” 

“Quicksand? You know of such places? There are some indeed in the driest part of the desert. You may walk across a dune and suddenly, you find yourself falling and suffocate under the sand. One of our own seems to have vanished this way just the spring before last.” 

POND MUD thought this answer odd. He decided not to pursue it just then because people always thought it strange when he asked about quicksand and blowing bubbles to stay alive. Why would his friend, ALT-R, make him blow bubbles with his face in the mud unless it was necessary? But how had ALT-R learned about it when no-one else seemed to know anything about this method of defeating quicksand? 

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Soon, POND MUD and DAN-ergo CREEP found themselves in an open space which afforded an easy and unobstructed view in each direction. DAN-ergo CREEP did not seriously doubt that he could outrun an approaching ambush unless somehow it came from behind them. They would have a long head start to return to the camp of the Southern Nomads. DAN-ergo had his doubts about POND MUD however. True enough, POND MUD was stocky and looked as though he could sprint quickly if his life depended on it. Whether he could run for some distance though – that seemed in doubt. And, though his wound was superficial, it would slow him down. DAN-ergo did not much care for this stranger and if it came to it, he supposed he must run back to the camp of his people. It would be stupid and useless to try to defend POND MUD against so many. 

In the distance, DAN-ergo could see two lone forms emerging from the forest and traveling down a grassy knoll toward the open plain. They came alone and seemingly unarmed. 

As they drew nearer, POND MUD recognized the two as She-of-Many-Paths and Shadow Walker. They are no match for the two of us, thought POND MUD. But how are they going to trick us? As they drew nearer, She-of-Many-Paths hailed them. 

“Thank you for agreeing to parley, POND MUD and you sir, whatever your name might be. Rest assured, we mean you no harm and none of our countrymen are even within bowshot.” Again, this was strictly true though another flicker of conscience batted at She-of-Many-Paths for they had arranged for Eagle Eyes and Fleet of Foot, among others, to be watching closely and if it looked as though harm were about to befall the two Veritas, wolves and eagles would be upon the group very quickly, though possibly not so quickly as to prevent the loss of two so beloved as were She-of-Many-Paths and Shadow Walker. “I am known as She-of-Many-Paths.” 

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“And I am known among my people as Shadow Walker.” 

“Well met,” began DAN-ergo CREEP. “I am called DAN-ergo CREEP among my people. I am the leader of those among the Nomads of the South who chose to follow the wishes of NUT-PI of the Cupiditas. We call our people SABRA. And, I believe you already know my companion, so named POND MUD.” 

“Well met, indeed.” She-of-Many-Paths had now approached the two quite closely. She nodded to POND MUD and then to DAN-ergo. “POND MUD. DAN-ergo CREEP. Before our armies launch their bodies at each other, I thought we should take a moment even on this precipice of war to understand whether this is indeed something we really and truly wish to do. For, DAN-ergo CREEP, we have no quarrel with the SABRA. None. And, for our part, we are frankly astounded that you should want to have war with us. As we communicated with our drums…I assume POND MUD told you what they said? Is this correct?” Her penetrating eyes darted between their faces and she could see that it was so though DAN-ergo nodded his assent. 

“Indeed. That is why I am here,” he said. “Why we are here. You say you have no quarrel with us, yet your leader, as I understand it, may well have a grudge against us because some few of us attacked and killed one that she found favor with.” 

“You are correct, DAN-ergo CREEP, that she found favor with the one we called Dares-and-Cares. But her understanding, and therefore the understanding of the Veritas, is that this was not the act of your people but of a few criminals amongst you. Is this so?”

“It is so. And we found and punished the murderers and returned the body and the stolen goods to the Veritas.” 

“Exactly so. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives holds no grudge against a people based upon the acts of a few. She encouraged us to try to find a path to our mutual benefit that does not cross a quicksand of war that will swallow so many of both our countrymen. So, I ask you, please tell me, quite frankly, what you hope to gain.” 

“NUT-PI said — I should say swore — promised — that we would learn the craft of making water skins that will not leak but keep water fresh and cool for long travels.” 

She-of-Many-Paths nodded, and asked, “Is that all?” 

“It may seem a simple thing but you have water in your lands in every season. For us, it is important.” 

“I don’t doubt it. It can be easily arranged without war. Is that all he promised?”

“Well, he said that we could be overlords of the Veritas and have first choice of the spoils of war and the many fine foods that are in your storehouses. And, as well, have first choice of slaves from among the women and children.” 

“I suspected as much,” DAN-ergo CREEP, for he promised the same exact thing to the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. And, I would well imagine, though I know it not for a fact, that he has also promised this to his own warriors as well. Do you not also think this likely?”

POND MUD’s face grew cloudy and he knit his brows together and frowned. He clenched his teeth. DAN-ergo had ordered POND MUD to stay silent in these negotiations, but he could not help himself from breaking in. 

“That’s a lie! You are quite wrong, She-of-Many-Paths! He promised that to ALT-R and me. We will be overlords of the Veritas and take you as my slave! Just as I told you when we met!” 

DAN-ergo regarded POND MUD. “Met? When did you two meet?” 

She-of-Many-Paths answered, “Oh, we chanced to meet some days ago while POND MUD was scouting out our guard positions. I assume he told you about that. I am not lying, POND MUD. I do not think you are lying either in that NUT-PI made such promises to you and ALT-R. But now it appears that he promised this as well to the fierce and formidable warriors of the north and to the nomads of the south, the SABRA. I must add something else here, DAN-ergo CREEP. I do not well know the ways of your people, but among the Veritas, all are prepared to fight to the death and die rather than become slaves. That includes all the women and children as well. If you capture any Veritas and make them slaves, your booty will be small indeed consisting only of a score of infants who would be quite useless to you until you had fed and clothed them for at least five or six years. We have some food in storage. That much is true. But I promise you that we are poised to make such food of much less value than you might think should it appear that you are going to win victory over the Veritas.” 

She-of-Many-Paths then added, “I have presented you with much information, I see. I have a proposal. Shadow Walker and I shall go now and return presently with several such water skins as you seek filled with cool and refreshing water. This will give you time to think upon what I have said. When we return, we may parley further. Meanwhile, you two may hold your own council. Ask POND MUD whether he thinks I speak true. Is this acceptable?”

“It is.” DAN-ergo CREEP admitted to himself that he was impressed with this — woman — of such a young age — yet so filled with clarity and confidence. The two Veritas turned and walked away. DAN-ergo began to think that if they really returned with such water skins, that in itself could be seen as a kind of victory when he returned to his people. He questioned POND MUD and found that nothing he said indicated that the Veritas were a duplicitous people. In fact, the more he spoke with POND MUD, the less it made any sense to him that he voluntarily left his people in order to throw his lot in with the Cupiditas. But why, he wondered, were they banished? 

Presently, as promised, the same two of the Veritas returned with three water-tight containers filled with fresh water and hauled on a travois. While the water skins had been filled and the travois had been loaded, She-of-Many-Paths and Shadow Walker quickly relayed the intelligence they had learned including most importantly that NUT-PI had promised the same “spoils of war” to everyone he could think of and that the SABRA, or at least one such, had a very shifty camouflage outfit. 

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She-of-Many-Paths began, “Here as promised are some water skins filled with cool water. These are a gift, plain and simple. But as you say, we have plenty of fresh water and would be glad to trade you for many more. Refresh yourselves and we may talk further.” 

DAN-ergo CREEP looked at Shadow Walker carefully as he made his next comment. “Among the SABRA, it would be rude for us to drink first. You, fine lady, show us the way. You must drink first. That is polite.” 

She-of-Many-Paths smiled. She was not in the least fooled by this charade, but was prepared. “Of course! Thank you! It was, I must admit, hard work to drag this water out here and I am thirsty.” She deftly began to unseal one of the water skins, but stopped. “Oh, DAN-ergo, which one would you like me to partake of?” 

He silently pointed, still watching carefully the face of Shadow Walker. “That one.” No reaction. “Wait, wait. That one, I should think.” She-of-Many-Paths began to unseal another. “NO! Wait. That one!” Now, She-of-Many-Paths laughed. “You are right to be cautious DAN-ergo CREEP. We need to learn to trust each other. That takes time. But I shall take a small sip from each of the three as will Shadow Walker. You watch us carefully and you will see no sign, however small, of poison. You will simply see us slake our thirst as you might.” The two from the Veritas so drank and then motioned for their counterparts to drink as well. “By the way,” she added. You may keep the travois as well to transport this back to your camp.”  

She-of-Many-Paths continued, saying that after the Cupiditas are vanquished, one or two of the Nomads of the South would be welcome to come and stay with the Veritas to learn the way of making such water skins and other such craft as they might find useful. 

“And in return?” asked DAN-ergo after he took a sip and handed the skin to POND MUD. 

“In return, simply live in peace,” said She-of-Many-Paths. Though I believe that two of our people might choose to come and live with you for a time to learn some of your ways such as those very tricky camouflage robes you have. I have in mind two such that might prove mutually beneficial. Among us is one we call, Eyes of Eagle who has long studied birds of prey and could teach you how to use them for messages and even to fight. She is quite talented in the ways of shapes and there is much to be learned from her if she would so choose to join you for a time. Also, the one we call “Fleet of Foot” might want to visit for a time as well. As you might guess from his name, he is a very fast runner. Aside from that, he has a talent for making things that appeal to popular taste. The two of them are friends, so they might wish to come together. Since you trade with many other tribes, he might prove valuable in these trades and how to make your wares appeal to those who might want them, especially when cleverly arranged.”

“That’s it? We simply exchange and learn from each other? You want nothing more?”

She-of-Many-Paths tilted her head. “You say, ‘nothing more’ but to the Veritas, exchanging knowledge hard won over many generations is no small thing. It is much more precious gift than any possible spoils of war. Even if you were to take every ear of corn and every cassava root in our storehouse, it would last you less than a year. Knowledge though? That can help your people for all time. That is how the Veritas think.”

“She-of-Many-Paths, you are far too wise for one so young. But nothing more?”

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“It is a small thing but our leader, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives gave me once a taste of that spice which I believe you call cinnamon. It is quite delicious! But it need not be a gift. We would be happy to trade with you: such a spice for that which you may find pleasing among our wares, medicines, or foods. Perhaps you also have other interesting and wonderful spices. I think that there is much we could learn from each other. We have no real quarrel with you; nor, so far as I can see, you have no real quarrel with us either. It is only a manufactured quarrel for the good of neither us nor you. It only benefits NUT-PI whose purpose, I ken, is to weaken all other tribes, not just the Veritas, but also the Fierce and Formidable warriors of the north and your own tribe as well. The Cupiditas themselves are a proud strong people, but it seems that they have no love of the truth and therefore they find it very hard to learn from one generation to the next. They forever change their stories to make their leader look much better than he in fact is. POND MUD, you have been living with them and planning with them. Do you agree with my assessment?”

POND MUD turned red. “You’re asking for my advice? You?” 

She-of-Many-Paths chucked. “Does this surprise you so? You know more about the Cupiditas than I do. Or DAN-ergo. I think all of us would like to hear of your observations.” 

POND MUD looked about him as though the correct answer might appear among the scattered rocks. “I don’t know. They have many weapons. Their leader is chosen by feats of strength which suits me just fine. Instead of stupid tests. But their head leader, NUT-PI appears neither strong nor quick though he is plenty cruel. I can vouch for that. They do not really have cabins such as ours. They have little more than lean-tos which are forever falling down. I could push down any one of them with one smash of my arm. Our cabins are stronger. Much stronger. And just because I can’t push one down — it doesn’t mean I am not stronger than an ant!”

She-of-Many-Paths sighed and shook her head slowly from side to side. Is there no end to POND MUD’s obsession with his own power in comparison to others, she thought to herself. Aloud, however, she said this: “I have no doubt you are very strong indeed POND MUD. I have never doubted that. But the question is, what can you tell us of the Cupiditas? And, you must decide who are your real people. If you come back to the Veritas now, you must needs be imprisoned until this battle is won or lost. If the Veritas lose, perhaps your friends will find you and set you free, through I must tell you frankly that I doubt it will come to be the case. If the Veritas win, we will soon hold a council and decide whether to annul your banishment. If you prefer, you may go back the way you came and join up with the Cupiditas for I sense that DAN-ergo and the Nomads of the South have no real purpose in this war. Do you agree, DAN-ergo?”

“I do indeed. I could use your help, POND MUD, in taking these water skins back to my people. After that, you may follow us back to our lands and join us, or walk back here to join with the Veritas or if you so choose, join up with and lead your small band of Cupiditas to attack your former homeland. That choice, I leave to you. But the path of peace is a place of cool, fresh water. The path of war in this strange land is a path of heat and death unneeded. I shall counsel my people to be at peace with your people, She-of-Many-Paths, though they are a free people and I cannot compel them to leave off war-making.”

“I don’t know what to do,” said POND MUD. “I want to rejoin the Veritas, but you have no such guarantee. I am the leader of a band of Cupiditas. They respect me. But…I do not trust their leader. I need to talk with ALT-R. He would advise me well. I will go back with you two. But no, I should go back to the Cupiditas. I am their captain. I don’t know! Why do you always confuse me so, She-of-Many-Paths!?” 

She-of-Many-Paths tried to look into the heart of POND MUD and she could see that his confusion was genuine. He still put his faith in ALT-R though he had tricked POND MUD many times that she knew of and probably many other times she did not know of. For that was the way of ALT-R. “POND MUD, how about this plan. Help DAN-ergo CREEP take this water back to his people. If you return alone here before darkness descends on this day, you may find your way back to the Veritas through the gap in that line of trees. You have that long to make up your mind. If we see you tomorrow or the next day, we will have to assume you are an enemy and that will be unfortunate. I give you no guarantees because, as the drums foretold, there are some among the Veritas who have no desire to see you at all let alone to annul your banishment. Yet, you are not without friends among the Veritas and some will argue for your reintroduction into the tribe. So, take a chance on the verdict or don’t. You are no longer a child, POND MUD. You must make your own decision, just as DAN-ergo CREEP has done.” 

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POND MUD and DAN-ergo began pulling the travois back toward camp. When they reached the camp, DAN-ergo quickly recounted what had transpired with regards to his own people. He said nothing of the words that had to do with POND MUD and his decision. The people of SABRA looked at each other and at their leader as they enjoyed taking turns with the cool water. They left the camp late that very afternoon, to a man. They did not want to be anywhere near the camp of the Cupiditas when fighting began on the morrow. 

POND MUD revealed nothing to the Cupiditas regarding his offer of possible reintegration with the Veritas. Why should he? Of course, it was demoralizing to the Cupiditas for the southern nomads to leave which they did quickly and efficiently, seeming to vanish as quietly and invisibly as they had come. They looked for reassurance to their new leader, POND MUD. POND MUD said that he was going to sneak into the camp of the Veritas which he could easily do because he knew these lands so well. He would overhear their plans and return before dawn and lead his small contingent to where it would do the most good until they met up with the much larger force on the Middle Path. He stole away under a starry sky, still not sure what he would do. 

When first light came, a small band of the Cupiditas found themselves alone in a strange land with no allies and no leader and no plan. A glow in the east grew rosy and then orange and then a bright yellow. They argued amongst themselves as to what to do. Many plans were advanced. But without a leader, they had no way to settle on a plan or to test their ideas. At last, one of their number, a man named NINA-TOP declared himself the leader and said that they would march due North until they met up with the main force of the Cupiditas and there they would no doubt receive further instructions. 

AILS-HER, challenged this plan as being too little too late. He argued that they should charge as planned along the Southern Path. Soon, the two were locked in mortal combat to see who should lead this small band. Whereas the Veritas knew many methods of deciding among alternative paths, the Cupiditas only knew one: Might makes Right. In this case, neither emerged as victor; they murdered each other, as sometimes happened among that tribe. 

None of the few remaining Cupiditas, however, felt like fighting to the death with the most recent such deadly incident fresh in their minds. One suggested a path they all agreed on however. They decided that since their force was too small to make much difference, they would make their way slowly along the Southern Path. If they found strong resistance, they would retreat. But if they found no resistance, they would wander into the Central Place of the Veritas and steal, enslave, or rape as they could. If NUT-PI questioned their late arrival, they would simply say they were overwhelmed by a strong force of the Veritas. It was so agreed, and around mid-day, they began a slow march on the Southern Path. By evening, they had come to the great flat plain of the parley that had taken place earlier in the day. As they marched up the gentle slope toward the line of large white oaks, swords drawn in case of any approaching enemy, they suddenly found themselves assailed by deadly arrows. In an instant, more than half their number began screaming and thrashing on the ground. The few remaining Cupiditas turned and ran back down the slope. Another hail of arrows found their mark. A handful of remaining Cupiditas threw down their weapons and begged that their unseen enemy show them mercy. 

Thus ended the battle of the Southern Path. A great battle was avoided because some few of the Veritas had pursued peace up to the very precipice of war. Yet, a powerful force of Cupiditas still strove forward on the Middle Path toward the Center Place of the Veritas. In this Center Place, were many women and children of the Veritas though if the Cupiditas thought they were helpless, they would be seriously mistaken. And there too was POND MUD in his stockade where he could look out and see a blue sky and the thin, eyeless figure of KAVA-NUT. He awaited the outcome of the coming battle to see who his true people were; that is, the victors. For POND MUD now very much subscribed to the central doctrine of the Cupiditas that might makes right. He liked feeling strong whereas thinking instead of pros and cons and consequences of this plan and that plan made him feel weak. He wanted always to know what path to take for certain. He wished ALT-R would get here soon and release him so they could rule Veritas together. The words of She-of-Many-Paths kept returning to his mind and when they did, he shouted, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” His screams were heard by many and they puzzled at them for no-one was speaking to POND MUD and very few would speak for him.  

————————————————————-

Magic Portal to Other Worlds

The beginning of “The Myths of the Veritas”

The First Ring of Empathy

The Walkabout Diaries — Photoessays on flowers, wildlife, and nature

Sunsets

Life Will Find a Way

Bee Wise

How Beautiful and Green

Mind Walk

The Life of the Party

Natural Variations

 

Stories of a Completely Mythical and Totally Made Up Child Sociopath

Donnie the Promiser

Donnie‘s Last Gift

Donnie Gets a Hamster

Donnie Boy Watches a Veteran’s Day Parade

Donnie Visits Granny

Donnie Lets his Brother Take the Fall

 

Myths of the Veritas: Battle Plans

28 Wednesday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, Veritas

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betrayal, books, cruelty, dialogue, empathy, fiction, greed, life, myths, politics, psychology, story, truth, Veritas, war, writing

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As POND MUD and ALT-R quickly discovered, hanging upside down soon produces a mind-numbing headache. Even the clever mind of ALT-R found it extremely difficult to concentrate. He needed a plan to convince this new leader of the Cupiditas not to kill him but instead to keep him alive until they conquered the Veritas. Of course, he also wanted to convince NUT-PI that he, being a Veritas native, should be made the under-King, the slave-driver, of the remaining Veritas. Keeping a line of thought from falling apart under the pain proved difficult. The required concentration at least kept him from focusing on the many small and large indignities he was forced to endure at the hands of the Cupiditas. Since their society was coordinated through anger and cruelty and power rather than cooperation and deliberation and common purpose, the chance to wreak indignities on others is something in which most of them found great glee. Luckily for ALT-R, POND MUD soon became their favorite target. Initially, this was mainly because he looked (and was) much better built and stronger than ALT-R. In addition, POND MUD was much more reactive and impulsive than ALT-R. Every time POND MUD strived with all his might to break free of his bonds, it encouraged the Cupiditas to even greater cruelty. 

On the morrow, NUT-PI ordered the two cut down. They were brought, with hands tied behind them, still naked, to his cabin and again forced to kneel on the cruel gravel for their audience. 

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“I have decided not to kill you. At least not yet. Indeed, we will use your knowledge to conquer and enslave the Veritas. If we prove successful and you two prove sufficiently useful in this endeavor, we will indeed set you atop the Veritas to have absolute power to do as you will excepting only that I, naturally, will rule over you two. Which of the two of you is of higher rank I leave for you to sort for yourselves. It seems that for now, we will have to trust each other. Now, go forth and discover these guard locations for yourselves. Come back here as soon as you know so you can guide us in our battle of conquest. Go and clean yourselves and then your clothes will be returned. You may break your fast with us and then make haste with your reconnaissance. I need hardly remind you that if this is a trick of the Veritas and you double cross me, you will killed in ways that are so painful that you will look back fondly on last night.” 

After getting cleaned, dressed, and fed, and listening to NUT-PI’s speech, the pair was sent off. NUT-PI made it clear that they were not to be further mistreated but were going to help the Cupiditas conquer the Veritas once and for all. According to the narrative that NUT-PI spun, he had convinced these two that they had better cooperate in defeating the Veritas or face dire and painful consequences. This irked ALT-R because he was given no credit for volunteering to do this. It was his idea, not NUT-PI’s. But, he reckoned, this was a small price to pay for becoming overlord of the tribe and avenging his banishment. POND MUD, for his part, only cared that he was no longer suffering pain and humiliation. He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. 

When ALT-R and POND MUD were well out of earshot of the Cupiditas (or so they believed), and well before approaching the lands of the Veritas, POND MUD began complaining to ALT-R about the disastrous and humiliating treatment they had received at the hands of NUT-PI. 

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“You say you’re so smart! You said we’d be welcomed! You didn’t even know anything about NUT-PI! That was horrible! You…”

“Stop, POND MUD. Stop. Yeah, things were a bit different that we expected, but we still got what we came for! You are going to get all the women of the Veritas that you want. Keep that in mind!” 

“Well, okay, but still. I still have a headache! But it’s a good torture to remember. And, I don’t trust NUT-PI. Not at all!” complained POND MUD. 

“Nor I! I don’t trust him either, POND MUD. But think about it. We will be the overlords and slave drivers of the Veritas. Even if half the Veritas are killed in battle, they will still be much more numerous than the Cupiditas. When the time, is right, we will kill NUT-PI and you and I will rule both tribes. The remaining Veritas will be happy to avenge the Cupiditas under our leadership. We’ll just lead a strike force. We’ll pretend we’re bringing some slaves to work for the Cupiditas and they will secretly be there to assassinate NUT-PI.”

“Really?” asked POND MUD. “Oh, that might be better. I don’t like NUT-PI much at all. Not after what he put us through.” 

ALT-R had doubts that the plan he had just invented and outlined would actually work. But he did plan to depose NUT-PI. ALT-R also hated him. He would have plenty of time to work out a foolproof assassination plan later; for now, his goal was simply to keep POND MUD in line. 

They walked on in silence for a time. Then, POND MUD began to complain again. “And, why didn’t KAVA NUT come and get us! He was supposed to be on the lookout!”

ALT-R shook his head. “No doubt, he was POND MUD. He did the right thing. What would you have had him do? Come into their camp with everyone watching and take on the whole of the Cupiditas to free us? That would have ruined the whole deal and all three of us would be dead by now.”

“Well, okay, but he still owes us. We vouched for him. It’s not our fault no-one believed us when he tried to rape Eagle Eyes. I don’t know why…anyway, he still owes us.”

ALT-R again wondered why he had not somehow found a smarter companion. Ideal would be someone he could still outsmart but not quite so dense as POND MUD. Anyway, I am on the path I am on, he thought. 

“Yes, he does,” continued ALT-R. “And, he’ll owe us still more after we take over. Because this time, we will make sure he has Eyes-of-Eagle just as you shall have She-of-Many-Paths and anyone else you desire.” 

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Soon, they met up with KAVA-NUT. “Remember, we need to find out the guard post positions and not be seen ourselves. That is of the highest importance. Stay away from the Veritas. We’ll meet back here in two day’s time. While we wait for dark, KAVA-NUT, let me recount to you what I learned about the Cupiditas. Then, the three of us must pool our knowledge to understand likely paths and positions that will allow us to find the guard positions. We must walk as quietly as a butterfly finds its way among the flowers.”

All afternoon they planned their reconnaissance missions. POND MUD was to discover guard positions deep in the forest. ALT-R considered POND MUD to have the least chance of being found out if he stayed in the forest, far from most of the Veritas. KAVA-NUT was to determine guard positions in the field of broken rocks that abutted the forest to the north. ALT-R would do the same for that part of the forest nearest the Lake of Reeds. 

Just before the sun began to set, they set out in three different directions. They planned to meet again and combine their knowledge at dawn and then plan out another night’s mission before heading back to the Cupiditas with their knowledge. 

During this time, several of the initiates among the Veritas who had begun vying for the Rings of Empathy came to She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives to say that they felt something was wrong, but they could not say exactly what.  After the last such, She Who Saves Many Lives called all of them all together for she too had felt that things were somehow “off” as though a great storm was coming, though the sky was clear, or as though the earth might be about to rearrange itself, though she felt no tremors. 

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Under the gentle leadership of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, they engaged in Dialogue. At one point they began to contemplate the pros and cons of habits and decided to change the way that lookouts are arranged as well as the locations. Instead of getting the very best vantage points, they decided they would suggest posting extra guards at vantage points for seeing those best vantage points. They reckoned that POND MUD, ALT-R, and KAVA-NUT might want to wreak revenge. It was well-known among the Veritas, that those falsely accused never exhibit quite so much rage as those rightly accused. Among the Veritas, such false displays of outrageous anger were called something best translated as “emotional diarrhea.” Such had been exhibited in the lengthy council that eventually banished the three of them. Only ALT-R remained calm while both POND MUD and KAVA-NUT screamed and yelled that they were innocent. 

During the Dialog, other observations were made about diversity of life, the value of habits, but also as to the vulnerability of habits. People such as POND MUD, KAVA-NUT and ALT-R, it was pointed out, are generally impatient. Also, they tend to look only at the surface of things rather than beyond to the substance. They discussed butterflies that look to have big eyes so that birds fear a poisonous snake. They concluded to invite the counsel of the one who is so good at surface, Fleet-of-Foot, to help them camouflage. At one point, knowing well the hearts of those three who were banished, they concluded that POND MUD and ALT-R and KAVA-NUT may attack soon.

Yet, several spoke that such an attack would be sure to fail since they were three and the Veritas were many. Being so few, they begin to wonder how they could possibly attack. They reckoned that they must have allies of some kind, whether bird, beast, plant, or a natural disaster like a fire or storm. They recalled the myth of the Orange Man who destroyed a whole people, as well as his own life, by making careless use of fire in a windstorm. 

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They considered the nearby tribes. Could the three be in league with the fierce hunters to the north? But, they reminded each other that such hunters as these have always managed their own affairs. The desert travelers could pose another risk. But it was reasoned that they were too nomadic. She-of-Many-Paths suggested the nearby Cupiditas. But it was pointed out that they were too few. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives agreed that they were too few for a pitched battle, but she pointed out that the Banished Three have inside information on how the Veritas operate. Knowing such, The Banished Three could think to prevail. 

“ALT-R,” the shaman continued, “is our deepest enemy for he is very smart yet even he, like all, working alone, has blind spots. He failed to find the acorns so well as the possum,” explained She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, “because unlike his cousin, the possum, ALT-R came looking for rules that would allow him every single acorn and as a result obtained fewer. He promised me that he would learn from this, but I remain skeptical. He might have learned, but he may still assume that everything is far more orderly and predictable than it truly is. This is because underneath it all, he has overwhelming greed which makes him believe utterly that he deserves everything for himself. His bonds of friendship only last so long as he sees it as worthwhile. POND MUD and KAVA-NUT are the same. They could use inside knowledge to find how to attack us, but not if we keep changing our tactics and strategy. This will require the utmost of trust and empathy and good communication. Yet, such communication must remain hidden from The Banished Three.” 

Dialogue continued, “If only we could fly like bird,” said Eyes-of-Eagle. “Or, swing from vines? Though this is too risky and too overt.”

Trunk-of-Tree suggested, “We may scare birds with stones to thus reveal false positions. Would our cousins the birds object to using them thus for such a purpose?”

Shadow-Walker added, “But vines could be wound around the upper branches of many trees looking thus much like ordinary trees. Many such could be tugged this way and that to show the movement and direction of incoming enemies. Enemies may not always be human. As we said, in the Myth of the Orange Man, he started fires so that the people would flee leaving him free to loot all their possessions. Instead, his own greed caused his death and so many innocents as well. Surely, even ALT-R would not set a fire to kill everything. We do not know what kind of enemy we are facing so we must prepare for many such enemies.”

“There may be another way,” said She-Of-Many-Paths. “If any of the three are spotted, let me talk to them and see into their hearts.”

“That is very dangerous,” cautioned Shadow-Walker. 

“Yes it is,” admitted She-of-Many-Paths. “Yet, we may gain much information. Let us decide how to arrange it so that you and Trunk of Tree and Eagle Eyes are nearby.” 

“Why not just capture one of them alone and apply pain until their plans are revealed?” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives said, “That may work, but such torturing may change us as well and turn us into something we do not wish to become. Often, people with plans that they think clever plans may reveal them if we listen patiently.”

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She-of-Man-Paths added, “But do not try to protect me unless absolutely necessary. It will be greatly preferred if they do not know you are there.” 

At the end of the Dialog, She-of-Many-Paths declared that she sees a time when they may dialog with each other even when they are not in each other’s presence. This will enable them  to anticipate each other’s actions and, in this way, coordinate with each other as the birds in a flock anticipate each other’s actions and flow as a whole without collision. 

The initiates prepared over the next several days. They played several games that She-of-Many-Paths devised. In these games, they could only win when they guessed the actions of the others. At first, they guessed badly, but over the course of days, they became very accurate at such things as guessing the symbol or picture that each other wrote on a skin with charcoal and the number of pebbles each other held so that the total was some predetermined number.

Those among the Veritas who were expert at making arrowheads and spearheads made many such in preparation for a possible trouble. Those among the Veritas who were expert at finding vines did so. And, each of the Veritas, in their own way, made reluctant preparations for war.  

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives helped preparations in another way. She sent the initiates off in different directions into nearby woods and fields and had them meet up. Where this meeting would be was to be determined by an internal dialog with the others. They had to meet up at different places each time. At first, everyone met up in a different place. Then, pairs began to show up together. Eventually, they all met up at the same place.

During one such exercise, when they had nearly converged, She-of-Many-Paths heard someone tramping through the bushes in a noisy way that she recognized as the careless tromping of POND MUD. She stood still enough to become nearly invisible to many of the creatures in the forest. She alerted Shadow-Walker, Trunk-of-Tree, and Eagle Eyes through whistles. When She-of-Many-Paths was quite sure that her allies were in place, she moved to a likely spot near a path so that she might confront POND MUD. He walked right by her though his eyes were scanning back and forth in the dimming light for possible places for guard stations.  

She stepped out onto the path behind him and spoke. “POND MUD. You have broken the rules of banishment.” 

He whirled quickly, “Where did you come from? What are you doing here?”

“I am of the Veritas as you well know POND MUD since once you were one of us as well. But no longer. To be found here now could be your death. You must leave.” 

POND MUD folded his arms defiantly and spread his legs. “Then kill me if you must. I have a much right to be here as anyone!”

She-of-Many-Paths slowly walked toward POND MUD looking into his eyes and seeing into his heart. “I know that ALT-R humiliated you. Why do you still work with him?”

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At first, POND MUD denied it and said it was She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives who humiliated him by showing him a cabin that he wasn’t strong enough to destroy but ants were strong enough. “You listen to her tales and try to win her rings if you like. But you will see! You will see soon enough!”

She-of-Many-Paths spoke gently, “That was not done to humiliate you but to teach you the important lesson that though you are very strong for a person, you could accomplish so much more working with others rather than trying to overpower them with your strength. Now, you are alone and all your strength gains you nothing, for you failed to learn the lesson.”

POND MUD snorted. “That shows how much you know! I have plenty of helpers! ALT-R, KAVA-NUT…No, never mind. You will see.” 

She-of-Many-Paths shook her head sadly. “Still working with ALT-R? POND MUD, he will betray you just when you need him the most. He uses the strength of his brain to overpower you.” Here, she paused and looked hard into POND MUD’s eyes and soul.  “And humiliate you.”

POND MUD’s face grew red. “He wasn’t humiliating me! He was saving my life! I could only get out of the quicksand by blowing bubbles. That’s why I had to put my face in the mud. He saved my life!” 

“How does blowing bubbles in the mud save your life?”

“Well, it did, because here I am!” 

She-of-Man-Paths thought of various examples that might show the error of this logic, but realized that POND MUD was not now in a very receptive mood for lessons. She-of-Many-Paths recalled the lesson of training trees which She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had taught her long before she had begun her quest for the Rings of Empathy.

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had once led her to a very small cave in a forest not far from the Lake of Reeds. “Now, suppose,” she had said in her ever gentle voice, “that you wished to keep this cave a secret known only unto the two of us. How might you hide it for a very long time?” 

She-of-Many-Paths had said, “Well, I could fill the entrance with rocks. Though that would be much work now and presage further work whenever I wanted to use it. I could cover the entrance with sticks, or broken trees. That would be too obvious to an eye that looked at it with more than a glance. These nearby saplings would look more natural. She took one such sapling whose slender trunk plunged skyward and tried to push it over the entrance. The sapling, though young, was surprisingly strong so she put her hands around it and began climbing with her body below it thus bending the tiny trunk toward the cave entrance. As she climbed she pulled her whole weight down. Just as she felt she was making good progress, the sapling cracked and spilled her sprawling onto the ground. Now the sapling was nearly torn through. Oh, so sorry, tree. Well, that looks pretty obvious and could draw more attention toward the cave than before.” 

“Yes, She-of-Many-Paths. Indeed, you are correct. Your idea of using saplings to hide the entrance is a good one, but suppose you need not be in such a hurry.” 

“I could use vines to loop around it and move it just a little. Then, perhaps, I could come back in a week and bend it a little more. I could come back every week for a long time. Eventually, the tree would grow bent over the entrance but not be broken as my hurryingd has done. I could do that as well to another tree on the other side. I could, in this way, encourage both trees to bend farther and farther toward covering the entrance. Then, as they grew, in this healthy way, and grew more leaves and branches, the trees would cover the entrance in a natural way. Though this would be a good cover except when the cold df winter encouraged the trees to drop their leaves. Above though, are more vines which I could likewise and somewhat more easily encourage to grow down over the top. This would take some time, but after a few years, the cave would indeed be well-hidden from all but the cleverest of eyes.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had smiled her warm smile at She-of-Many-Paths and had suggested, “Perhaps we can test your idea. You continue with your plan for two dozen moons and then I will return with you and we will see how well-hidden this cave entrance has become.” 

She-of-Many-Paths had continued the slow bending of the trees and the slow encouragement of the vines from above. At first, there seemed little progress, but by the end of the 24 moons, the cave entrance was indeed quite well hidden, even in the dead of winter. 

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She-of-Many-Paths recalled this entire incident in a flash and knew that she had tried to bend the mind of POND MUD far too quickly. He was already convinced that ALT-R was his true friend and had saved his life. Her words had been true of course, but they only firmed the thoughts of POND MUD on his current deadly path. Yet, She-of-Many-Paths did not have 24 moons, and probably not even one to gently incline the perception of POND MUD toward a path of actual truth.    

“Indeed you are here, POND MUD, and I suspect that is more because of your own strength than because of ALT-R, but I have no wish to argue with you. You are indeed here, not far from the very people who have exiled you. Yet, you know the penalty for being here is death. You risk that. For what?”

“Not your business.”

“I don’t see ALT-R risking his life to find out this vital information you seek.” 

“He’s doing the same elsewhere. And if you kill us, you will have to answer to him and to NUT-PI.”

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“I have no desire to kill you POND MUD, and you are far too strong for me to overpower you.” At these words, She-of-Many-Paths felt a slight twinge of conscience. While it was strictly true that she had insufficient strength to overpower POND MUD, she had no doubt whatever that she could have dispatched him with one or both of the sharp daggers she had hidden on her person, even before her waiting and watching friends intervened. It was also true that she had no desire to kill POND MUD though she would have done so gladly if it could have saved the Veritas. And, it appeared from the stumbling words of POND MUD, and more so from those words he did not say but from darkness within him that he was trying to hide, that he and ALT-R  and NUT-PI, whoever that was, were up to no good. She was aware that, although she spoke literal truth, POND MUD might take those words in a way that planted seeds of untruth in his mind. Nonetheless, she persisted, “I certainly have no desire to kill your new friend NUT-PI whom I do not even know of.” This too was strictly true. She-of-Many-Paths ventured a guess, “Is he perhaps a friend of CHOFM?” 

“Friend?!” POND MUD snorted. “That shows how much you know! You think you’re so smart with all your rings of empathy! NUT-PI is a far stronger and younger king than CHOFM!” 

“Stronger than CHOFM? That is strong indeed, POND MUD, for CHOFM is known to be quite strong, possibly even stronger than you. What of this NUT-PI? Is he stronger than you?” 

POND MUD frowned, “I’m stronger. But NUT-PI…You’ll see.” 

She-of-Many-Paths, like the rest of the Veritas, felt great anger toward POND MUD for lying about KAVA-NUT. Yet, she could see that beneath his blustery anger and boasts was a boy quit unsure of himself. It reminded her of what She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives called a “Killing Circle.” The more he felt alone and incapable, the more he tried to rely on his strength and the strength of those who played to his ego. This, made him even more cut off from true friendship. Even before being banished, he had felt — and still felt — cut off from the tribe of the Veritas. And the more he had acted this way, the more the Veritas despised him. And, the more they despised him, the more alone and incapable he felt. 

{Translator’s Note}: We would typically call this a “positive feedback loop” in today’s cybernetic parlance, though a “positive feedback loop” can be a “virtuous cycle” as well as a “vicious cycle.” The Veritas had no special term, at least that I have discovered, for a “virtuous cycle.” I believe this is because they viewed the normal course of life to be a giant web of “virtuous cycles.” 

She-of-Many-Paths, true to her name, considered many ways to try to draw more information from POND MUD. Presently, she said quietly, “Do you think you were wronged by the Veritas when they banished you and KAVA-NUT and ALT-R?” 

“NO! I don’t care!” POND MUD answered loudly and quickly. Too quickly, and too loudly, it seemed to She-of-Many-Paths as though he had already prepared himself for such a question; as though he could not acknowledge the hurt behind his anger and treachery. “Just wait! You’ll see what happens to those who defy us! You think you are so smart! All this empathy will do you no good. Rings indeed. They will be no match for spears and arrows.” 

“You may be right, POND MUD, but you had good insights yourself in the first trials. Speaking of which, where are your Rings of Empathy? Surely, you didn’t throw out such well made jewelry.” 

“I – it’s not for you to know. It doesn’t matter! I’ve wasted enough breath on you and the Veritas. The Cupiditas do not gab all day. We train and … you and I have a date. A date of reckoning. Till then, go seek your precious rings. I do not need mine.” 

In a flash of insight, She-of-Many-Paths said quietly, “Was it your idea to give NUT-PI your rings? Or, was it ALT-R’s?” 

Having She-of-Many-Paths look thus into his heart plucked at small remnants of his longings to return to the Veritas, but precisely because of this, it flared his anger. Fundamentally, he was angry with himself, or, more accurately that part of himself that still felt a connection to truth and love and life. The truth he wanted to avoid above all others and the truth he desperately wished to avoid at all costs was that he longed for the past, his past, a past which would never — and could never — come again. He had chosen a different path and he hated any hint that he had chosen the wrong path, particularly when it stirred such feelings of longing within himself. He felt such rage at himself, displaced onto She-of-Many-Paths that he could barely contain himself from killing or maiming or raping She-of-Many-Paths then and there. Instead, he bellowed like an animal and ran off through the forest. 

She-of-Many-Paths looked at his retreating figured and wondered whether banishment had been the correct punishment. Before following this line of thought very far however, her companions came onto the path where she stood. Shadow Walker was the first to arrive and the first to speak, “I could not hear all that you said. I could hear almost all of what POND MUD said though. Indeed, every beast in the forest could probably hear him. How did you make him so angry?” At these last words, Eyes-of-Eagle and Trunk-of-Tree arrived as well. She-of-Many-Paths spoke again, “I said nothing to make him angry, though at each point, he chose to make himself angry over what I said. I honestly think he feels sorry for his choices and sorry for pitching his tent with KAVA-NUT and possibly with ALT-R though he believes, or at least part of him believes, that ALT-R saved his life. 

Trunk-of-Tree laughed. “I heard that. By making him blow bubbles in the mud? What a fool.” 

Eyes-of-Eagle shook her head. “I knew that POND MUD was not so bright as some but I never thought he would fall for such a blatant lie as that.” 

“Indeed,” said She-of-Many-Paths, “but don’t forget ALT-R is smart and had plenty of time to bend his mind. Anyway, we should focus on what we learned. Unless, POND MUD is a far better artist of camouflage than even the bullfrog and walking stick, he and ALT-R, and KAVA-NUT are indeed in league with the Cupiditas. They are going to try, not to kill us all, but to enslave us or at least some of us. Apparently, CHOFM has been vanquished by a new king, NUT-PI and POND MUD has given away his Rings of Empathy as a gift to solidify their fealty. Probably, ALT-R gave his up as well.” 

Eyes-of-Eagle shook her head, “I find it hard to believe that ALT-R would honestly pledge his fealty to anyone. It is not the shape of his ambition. That shape always leads to himself at the top of any hill such as the people may occupy.” 

She-of-Many-Paths nodded gravely. “Yes, I also think it so. I believe that each of these are playing a game of make-believe. Each strives to make the others believe that they are faithful to a common cause when in reality, each has a different interest and the only thing they share is that they will use each other only so long as it suits their purpose. After such a time as the Cupiditas were to enslave us, they would betray each other. It may be that there is a way to reveal this. Meanwhile, we must prepare and redouble our efforts for I feel from POND MUD that this attack will come soon. We must redouble our preparations and share all that we have learned.”

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All We Stand to Lose

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How Beautiful and Green

Mind Walk

 

 

The Cupiditas

27 Tuesday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, management, psychology, Veritas

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America, Cupiditas, Democracy, Dictatorship, empathy, fiction, governance, greed, history, leadership, life, myth, politics, power, treachery, truth, USA, Veritas, writing

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{Translator’s Note}: As has probably been obvious to the reader, translation into English from the legends of the Veritas is a non-trivial task; not only is the language different; so are the times, technology, and culture. Nonetheless, these difficulties pale compared with the next translation which mainly involves a different tribe, known to the Veritas as “The Cupiditas.” In what follows, I rely on several sources of scholarship as well as what the Veritas had to say about The Cupiditas. Where the difficulties become nearly unsurmountable, however, are those fragments of oral history passed along by The Cupiditas themselves. I won’t bother to recount all the difficulties, because doing so seems too much like whining. After all, I am well fed, living in a house with central air conditioning and heating and able to avail myself of modern technology. I do want to let, you, the reader, know how dubious these translations are however, not to gain your sympathy, but to alert you to numerous possible inaccuracies. 

First, the Veritas valued truth extremely highly and had developed numerous strategies to preserve the accuracy of their oral history. By contrast, the Cupiditas, as you will soon see, valued power, not truth. As a consequence, every time there was a regime change, those in power revised, re-interpreted, and redacted, insofar as possible, the oral history of the Cupiditas to make out “their side” to be the “good guys” and the powers most recently deposed to be the “bad guys.” 

Second, the difficulty in translating the myths of the Veritas often consists of finding expressions subtle enough in English to handle the many shades of gray that the Veritas routinely used in such matters as “causality” and “responsibility.” Native English speakers, for instance, see nothing problematic in statements such as: “Mary was sad and it was John’s fault.” Is this sadness temporary, permanent? Is it constant, cyclical? Is it really plausible that Mary’s sadness has zero to do with anything other than John? And, what does it mean to say it was John’s ‘fault’ exactly and solely? I may write such a sentence so that English speakers understand it given the current level of sophistication of our culture. The actual Veritas descriptions, however, are always much more nuanced. Causality is always characterized among the Veritas as a web of interconnections and never as a linear set of linkages.

 

 

 

 

 

By contrast, there are very few subtleties in the language of the Cupiditas. They seldom attempt to use what we would call persuasion. People are arranged in a strict power hierarchy and whenever a person higher in this hierarchy states something as fact it is supposed to be obeyed, retold, and believed regardless of how absurd or wantonly cruel it might be. If, a few years later, violence leads to a repositioning of the power hierarchy, what was “true” before is now often “false” and now people were expected to obey, retell, and believe even the precise opposite of what they passionately believed weeks before. Since most adults among the Cupiditas had experienced several such “shifts” of what was “acceptable belief,” it seems as though either they had become incapable of knowing the “truth” or they had become too jaded to care.  

Third, as I mentioned, some of what follows is from what is certainly the much more accurate and less self-serving oral history of the Veritas. They were apparently even more mystified by the cultural choices of the Cupiditas than we are and that cast some doubt on how much the Veritas descriptions can be relied up. That the Cupiditas were less well off on almost every dimension is borne out by the archeological evidence. Yet, I remain suspicious that even the truth-seeking and empathic Veritas could ever be completely accurate in their recounting of what happened among the Cupiditas. 

Fourth, Chomsky notwithstanding, in many cases, the Cupiditas did not appear necessarily to speak or even think in complete sentences. Here, I am not referring to the kinds of ellipsis or implicit commands that occur in English. While eating at the table with you, I might lift up my bread, catch your eye and say, “Butter?” meaning, “Would you please pass the butter (so that I can butter my bread).” This is understood by people in our culture. Among the Cupiditas, however, for an underling to use such language with one of a higher status would be considered highly insulting. Instead, the lower status person would be expected to say something along the lines of: “Oh, excellent one! Would it please you to allow me to partake of the butter and thereby increase my great debt to you?” On the other hand, a person of higher rank might well merely speak the word, “Butter.” In this case, it might or might not be an implicit request to pass the butter. It was intentionally vague and ambiguous. Lesser ranked people would silently pass glances trying to guess upon whom the honor of passing the butter had been bestowed. If too long a time passed, the high ranking person might suddenly grab the butter and smash it against the wall or into the face of a nearby lackey. On the other hand, if someone passed the butter, the higher ranking person, might say, “NO! TELL me about butter, idiot!” In other words, the higher ranking person would be intentionally vague so that no matter what was said or done, the other person would be wrong. One of many Cupiditas leaders who reveled in this game was the one called, NUT-PI.  

Legends of the Cupiditas: NUT-PI’s Plan. 

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Although there were many changes and variations in the legends of the Cupiditas, on one thing these legends all seemed to agree. The rather barren and desolate lands that the Cupiditas lived on now were the result of treachery and trickery on the part of the Veritas. Indeed, nearly all of the many problems that beset the Cupiditas were blamed on the Veritas while only a few were blamed on more distant and somewhat less prosperous tribes. For their part, the Veritas were amazed that the Cupiditas survived at all, given their insistence on warping and even denying the truth. The Veritas had learned long before even their most distant legends not to over-fish, over-hunt, or over-harvest in an area and thus destroy the very things that brought sustenance to the tribe. Moreover, when the Veritas built or hunted or gathered, they were always trying to try out new ways and to improve on how they did things. Usually, new ideas did not improve things but occasionally new ideas were an improvement and these were kept. While the Veritas worked and silence was not demanded by the character of the enterprise (e.g., stalking shy creatures), they talked or sang or chanted. By contrast, the Cupiditas tribe did the tasks of their tribe under the constant harassment and belittling of those in charge and new ideas were generally dismissed out of hand even on the rare occasions when they were brought up at all. This is not to say that innovation was absent in the Cupiditas. Apparently, NUT-PI himself rose to power by inventing a new way of killing. Rather than oust his opponents with spear or club, he poisoned them. He often killed them without their even knowing that he was vying for power over them. In this way, he quickly became the most feared among the Cupiditas. According to NUT-PI, those who opposed him angered the gods and those gods therefore destroyed his enemies, invariably striking them with “mysterious illnesses” causing them to go blind while their tongues turned black and their limbs grew ever more weary till at last they fell upon the ground writhing in pain and soon expired.  

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Previous leaders of the Cupiditas had risen to power through a combination of physical strength and guile. As they grew older, their physical strength began to wane slightly and the younger from among the Cupiditas vied among themselves for power and position until one felt strong enough and skilled enough to challenge the current leader.

Sometimes, the challenger would become the new leader and sometimes they would be killed outright or at least maimed to the point of no longer posing a threat. To the Veritas, such a procedure for choosing a new leader seemed preposterous! The chosen leader of the Cupiditas, always a man, could compel any woman among the Cupiditas to mate with him. Initially, this custom seemed to increase the average strength among the Cupiditas. However, the resulting inbreeding inevitably led to numerous health issues among the tribe. NUT-PI did not particularly enjoy physical combat and instead spent many of his days alone capturing small animals and discovering which plant tisanes had the most profound effect. At one point, he challenged the Cupiditas leader to mortal combat with spears. NUT-PI covered the spearhead of his weapons with an extract of hellebore mixed with datura. 

As was customary, in the rough-hewn stone arena before the “contest” began, NUT-PI offered two identical spears to the leader. As the leader reached for the first one, NUT-PI deftly slashed the hand of the old leader, CHOFM. It was not a deep cut, but sufficient poison leached into his bloodstream to cause weakness, confusion, and partial paralysis. A few quick thrusts and NUT-PI fatally wounded CHOFM. Despite his older age, CHOFM was much stronger, quicker, and more skillful than NUT-PI and would have easily won a “fair fight” with any sort of weapon. The tribe of Cupiditas, however, immediately hailed the new leader, as was their custom. 

{Translator’s Note}: The events described above are one of those many places where the worldview of the Veritas differs significantly from that of the Cupiditas. The legends of the Cupiditas do not distinguish between a contest won by treachery and a contest won by skill or good luck or superior strength. The Cupiditas already had a long tradition of pledging instant allegiance to whoever is the leader without any regard to how they got there. 

After many moons, NUT-PI proved himself to be a ruthless leader, even by comparison to other leaders of the Cupiditas. In order to keep the peace among the tribe, since he offered nothing in the way of true leadership, he roused the Cupiditas to a fever pitch of hatred for all that they had [supposedly] lost to the Veritas. 

black and white cold fog forest

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The next year, the winter seemed to last into spring and then into early summer. Hunting proved sparse and NUT-PI feared that the anger he had aroused might morph so as to be directed at him. Indeed, he rightly thought that fighting the far-away Veritas might seem to the people of the Cupiditas to be much more difficult than challenging and replacing their own leader. Also, the Veritas were known by all to be both more numerous and more prosperous than the Cupiditas. An all-out war against the Veritas would have been madness and although they spoke of it publicly as though it would be an easy victory, each of the Cupiditas secretly knew such a war would be hopeless. For his part, NUT-PI kept a close watch for any signs of a youth who might grow strong and skillful enough to challenge his power. He planned to poison any such youth before he became strong enough and confident enough to issue the challenge.

Such a challenge as was awaited by NUT-PI did not come. Instead, after the long, cold winter, the mandatory morning adoration songs for the leader of the Cupiditas were interrupted by two such ones as were not expected at all. By their garb, they were known to be of the Veritas. The Cupiditas thought it both stupid and brave for two such ones to walk right into the camp of the Cupiditas. Of course, the Veritas, while knowing that their customs were quite different from those of the Cupiditas, had no inkling of how heavily reviled they had been by NUT-PI. So, those two from the Veritas did not suspect that approaching the Cupiditas would be particularly dangerous. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As they walked deeper into the Cupiditas camp, POND MUD and ALT-R found themselves surrounded by more and more of the Cupiditas. Though ALT-R had grown ever more clever at reading and manipulating people, he mainly did so through his words. He was not well versed at all in the language of the Cupiditas and his palms grew sweaty and the throng of people swelled in numbers. Even the much stronger POND MUD though slow and brash well understood that he and his friend were no match for the strength of the entire Cupiditas people. While ALT-R understood only a little of the language of the Cupiditas, he and even POND MUD could tell that the people surrounding them were being derisive and threatening. At last, the tension became overwhelming as many of the Cupiditas hunters jabbed their spears threateningly at the two. So, ALT-R forced himself to speak in a loud, confident voice, supplementing his words with gestures that were common to all the tribes. 

“Oh, great and wondrous people of the Cupiditas, we bring great news to you and wish to speak with your great and legendary leader, CHOFM!” Though fearful, ALT-R made his voice ring loud and clear in the crisp morning air. 

His words brought a much more sudden change in mood than ALT-R expected. Several braves ran off from the group to inform their leader who was lounging in his large, private cabin. The crowd as a whole began chattering angrily among themselves and became even more threatening to the pair. 

ALT-R tried to understand what was going on and wished to choose his next words so as not to further darken the mood of the crowd. He gestured expansively to indicate the whole village. “You of the Cupiditas are a marvelous and strong people. I see many strong people among you. I see many cabins. I see many tents. I see that you are a prosperous and strong people.” The Cupiditas were feeling anything but prosperous and many took the words of ALT-R as sarcasm since they “knew” the Veritas were far more prosperous. ALT-R knew his flattery was not working well but had no idea why. He hated his lack of fluency in the tongue of the Cupiditas and struggled for something else to say by way of flattery. As he scanned the village for inspiration, he saw someone emerge from the largest cabin. This someone was dressed in finer garb than the other Cupiditas and was surrounded by several servile sycophants. 

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ALT-R stared at the man and bit his lower lip. He wondered whether this was the leader of the Cupiditas, for he, like the other Veritas, had always heard that CHOFM was a rather large, older, well-muscled man. But this did not well describe the obvious leader who emerged from the cabin. Perhaps he was ill. That would explain his diminished stature as well as the fawning attitude of those around him. Among the Veritas, such fawning behavior never occurred even for She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives but only signaled someone in a temporary state of great need. Still confused, ALT-R cursed himself for not having chosen a smart, knowledgeable friend who could help him rather than the one he could most easily manipulate. 

NUT-PI spoke. “I am NUT-PI, the King of the Cupiditas. I am not CHOFM. I vanquished that old man before the last fall harvest, oh, ill-informed one of the Veritas. What gifts did you bring me?” 

ALT-R wished that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives were here to advise him. Immediately, he pushed this thought from his mind. He hated the leader of the Veritas, who had overlooked him as the next leader and furthermore banished him from the tribe – a rare and terrible punishment. But it did remind him of the Rings of Empathy that he possessed. 

“I am he who is called ALT-R and I bring you, oh, great leader of the Cupiditas, these wondrous and magical rings imbued with special powers by the shaman of the Veritas. My companion also brings his rings as gifts. Though these are magical and wondrous, they are but tokens of our esteem. Our real gift is the gift of knowledge. We have come to show you how to conquer the Veritas, not through superior computations [sic] but through knowledge. We are of the Veritas and know the Veritas. We know where their lookouts are; we know their habits; we know their weapons; we know their strengths and weaknesses. We can show you how to defeat the Veritas. All I need is your word to make me small King of the Veritas to your large King of all in these lands. And, my friend POND MUD, of course. Also to rule under you.”

NUT-PI said flatly, “Show me these rings.” 

ALT-R eagerly fished out his rings and nudged POND MUD to do the same, which he did grudgingly. ALT-R knelt before NUT-PI and offered up his rings. He quietly backed away, head still lowered. He whispered for POND MUD to do the same. And so it was done. 

NUT-PI considered the rings, turning them over in his hand and letting the morning sun play upon them. They were indeed beautiful and well-made, but he was quite skeptical of magic. He had his own “magic” after all, consisting of the poisons he used to keep his power. The Cupiditas may think he was magic but he knew what the real secrets of his success were: poison and ruthlessness. We will see whether your knowledge of the Veritas is sufficient to save your lives. Come!” He turned and walked back toward his cabin, gestured for them to follow and snapped his fingers at his body guards. 

Inside the cabin, NUT-PI seated himself upon an ornately carved wooden chair raised several feet off the floor on a dais. POND MUD and ALT-R were forced to kneel on gravel before him while a score of well-muscled guards pointed their spears at the head, throat, and chest of the two from among the Veritas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NUT-PI looked at the two disdainfully. “Speak! Be quick! What do you know of how to defeat the Veritas!” 

ALT-R now found himself having to speak plainly in a foreign tongue about complex things. He was ordered to do so quickly and he was already feeling pain in his knees. Yet, if he spoke in too little detail, he would be dismissed as a fraud. On the other hand, if he spoke in too much detail, he knew that he had no guarantee that the Cupiditas would not kill them both and use the knowledge anyway. He stared at the gravel wondering whether it would ease his pain or worsen it if he tried to shift his position just a little.

NUT-PI enjoyed his obvious discomfort and played the rings in his hand while he started at the two. “WELL?! Do not think to waste my time!” he barked. 

ALT-R decided to reveal the scope of his knowledge first and then delve into ever more detail, vowing to ignore the pain until he could read that NUT-PI was sufficiently impressed. He would also make it clear that it would be necessary for him to accompany the Cupiditas in their raid in person. Thus, he began to reveal the general habits of the Veritas such as the fact that guards were not always positioned in the same place. At the full moon and the empty moon, these posts rotated among over a hundred vantage points that were chosen in some unknown way by She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. ALT-R knew where the guards were now so he could sneak back into the lands of the Veritas and discover their new hiding places when the moon showed no light. For the guards took no pains to cover their trails from the campsites to their guard posts. Each guard also had a small drum for raising an alarm. It would be critical to sneak behind the guards from the direction of the Veritas, once the new positions were known. It must be done very quietly and with camouflage under cover of rain if possible. Each such post must be taken quickly, the drums destroyed, and the guards murdered. It would not be necessary to kill all the guards initially. The Cupiditas only needed to murder those on the side of the deep forest that bordered the lands of the Veritas. 

 

 

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ALT-R had never known such pain and yet, he kept reminding himself that he needed to convince NUT-PI of the depth and importance of his knowledge. He also painted a picture of beautiful women to be raped, full storehouses to be ransacked, and many fine artifacts that could be stolen. While it would be possible to annihilate the Veritas outright, it would be far more profitable to take them as slaves, he explained. He and POND MUD could be excellent at being the slave drivers for they spoke the language of the Veritas and knew their customs. They would be well positioned to foresee any uprising or rebellion and destroy any such tree of rebellion while still a seedling. “But of course, that choice remains with you, oh Great One,” said ALT-R fawningly. ALT-R had told a different story to POND MUD and promised him he could have any woman of the Veritas or the Cupiditas once they had become co-leaders of both lands and villages. Dull as POND MUD sometimes was, ALT-R hoped he would have the sense not to interrupt or reveal this now. He had made it as clear as he could to POND MUD to volunteer nothing. 

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At last, NUT-PI grew weary of listening for it was hard work to understand the twisted tongue of ALT-R and besides that, NUT-PI’s stomach growled for among all the Cupiditas he was the last to have a morning meal. So, he put an end to the interview, at least for now. 

“Enough! I will think on this and announce my decision on the morrow. Guards, take these two, denude them, bind them hand and foot in the center of the village upside down so my people may look upon the Veritas and realize they are nothing special and can indeed by conquered. When you have bound them securely, come back here that we may plan our invasion with or without their help. Perhaps they will be of future use as well. Or perhaps we will feed them to the wolves. Or, perhaps we will learn how they are made inside. Arise now and go! After you have secured them, warn the villagers not to kill them before I give the command, though if they wish to hurt them a little or humiliate them, to enjoy themselves. Stress, however, that they are not to kill these two until I give the word. GO!” 

ALT-R tried to stand and found himself struggling like an oldster. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, he thought, could have come to her feet more gracefully. 

So, it was that ALT-R and POND MUD found themselves in the middle of the camp of the Cupiditas, strapped to large logs, hog-tied and upside down, subject to the taunts and worse of the villagers through the long day and the longer night without benefit of food or drink or privacy. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even a dictator needs confidantes and so it was with NUT-PI. Now, these were with NUT-PI to plan. While the Veritas had very detailed maps of the entire area, those of the Cupiditas were far less accurate. Nonetheless, they knew the location of the thick forest that protected one side of the lands of the Veritas. They planned their attack as well as the training and selection of the warriors. One of NUT-PI’s captains obliquely brought up the question of who would be the best slave driver of the remaining Veritas. 

NUT-PI laughed and said earnestly, “Do you think me a fool, INGO RICHES? You can never trust a Veritas. And you can never ever trust a traitor. They are both! Of course, I will choose one of you to be slave-driver of the remnants of the Veritas. These two will both be killed once Victory is assured. Till then, they can serve as useful tools. They will then be killed as slowly and painfully as possible in the middle of the main camp of the Veritas to illustrate to the Veritas what happens to any who defy me. That will be their final gift to me. I will decide later who will have the Veritas to run as they wish, but do not worry, INGO RICHES, you are among the candidates. We must first put all our thought into winning this war for the Veritas are not an easy foe. They are wily and well-trained. We will use these two, but let them grow more humility as they contemplate their possible fates while hungry, thirsty, fearful and humiliated. Besides, I want to know why they came here. So far, this one who calls himself ALT-R had not really answered that question completely. But he will in the morning. Or the next morning. Or the next. Eventually, I will discover the truth. And this I promise you and all the people of the Cupiditas – we will conquer the Veritas and rule the world.”

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The First Ring of Empathy

The Second Ring of Empathy

The Third Ring of Empathy

The Fourth Ring of Empathy

The Fifth Ring of Empathy

The Sixth Ring of Empathy

All We Stand to Lose

After All

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

D4

Dick-Taters

Imagine All the People

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Dance of Billions

Life is a Dance

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

The Orange Man

At Least he’s Our Monster

The Ailing King of Agitate

An Open Sore from Hell

 

When GREED’S the only Creed

09 Friday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, poetry, politics, psychology

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

autocracy, Democracy, greed, life, oligarchy, poem, poetry, politics, truth, USA

When greedy Greeder GREED

Is a person’s unifying creed

Then a person’s life’s defined

By its aging shrinking skin

Nothing won is really win

You rape instead of mutual love

You’re touching with cold metal glove

And wormy parasitic mind

When greedy Greeder GREED

Is a nation’s unifying creed

Then killing of another’s fine

The country falls to ash and mud

It splashes with a thick’ning thud

Fear and hate destroy what’s great

Stupidity becomes its fate

And blood’s a favored flavored wine

When greedy, Greeder, GREED

Is the world’s unifying creed

When everyone’s so cowed by cash

That love and life itself are seen

As merely meeker forms of screen

And forests die there is no why

The cancer spreads and all must die

The ugliness and stench obscene

AI-generated image to: ugly clown

There’s nothing left but useless gold

An unheard wind and endless cold

Congratulate your ego’s need

You bowed your head and prayed to GREED

———

Author Page

The First Ring of Empathy

The Walkabout Diaries: Variation

Travels with Sadie Teamwork

After All

Guernica

Essays on America: The Game

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Truth Train

D4

Dick-tater$hit

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

All we Stand to Lose

The Twilights Last Gleaming

The Crows and Me

The Isle of Right

Imagine All the People…

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar



Just Desserts?

04 Wednesday Jun 2025

Posted by petersironwood in America, poetry, politics

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Democracy, faith, fiction, greed, life, love, poem, poetry, politics, USA, writing

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The greediest people of this world

Will never have enough. Enough.

Times be good.

Times be tough. 

Furniture made of finest wood.

Furniture made of glass and steel.

The finest ever made! 

Furniture of jade?

Furniture of gold? 

Furniture of workers’ teeth?

Furniture of … 

Never mind. 

It’s always too unkind.

It always makes their blood congeal

Unless more cruelty’s part of the deal.

AI-generated from this prompt: “A photo of earth from outer space. However, the earth is actually giant orange pig.”

 

The very greediest people in the world

Will never have enough. Enough.

Weather is too hot.

Weather is too cold. 

A world of green and blue 

Beloved by me

Beloved by you. 

Must be destroyed. 

Must be replaced. 

With empty rock 

And endless sand. 

Sung and swung by robot yuck.

Rhythms of the cyber band.

Ugly as a Cyber Fruck.

Wrapped in packaged poppycock.


 

The very greediest people in the world

Will never have enough. Enough.

Times be good 

Or times be tough. 

There’s always more to steal from me and you. 

No matter breathable skies of crystal blue

Are turned to grey and brown and goo. 

The endless quest for perfect life

Always ends in war and strife. 

Always ends in death and muck. 

Always destroys the innocents. 

Always destroys innocence. 

The very greediest people in the world 

Don’t give a damn. They patiently explain

Lives destroyed mean even more to gain.

Everyone else’s skin’s too dark, 

Or, they’re living homeless in the park,

Or they fled their homeland on a raft.

Can you think of else that daft

Just to skirt enslavement, death

Just to try to take another breath. 

The very greediest people in the world

Will never have enough. Enough.

To fill their hearts with love and mirth

Even when they rape and force a birth

Forests are replaced with parking lots. 

Even when their plagues and wars and crimes

Farmland fog becomes the mustard killing fields 

Village squares become the hanging place.

Every Saint will fall from grace. 

No amount of power, gold, or greed. 

Fills their dark and empty place.

Vodka, ketamine, or world’s best weed

Power kills and easily as speed.

Cruelty fills no empty souls. 

Fooling fools gets really old.

Original Masks by Sarah Morgan
Original Masks by Sarah Morgan

 

The very greediest people in the world

Will never have enough. Enough.

When all along they missed the joys of life

Aside from those that come from winning strife.

Along with the millions they inevitably kill

A life of lies; mindless greed always will. 

Instead a tuning in to what we are

A tiny leaf upon a giant Tree of Life

Every living thing is family

A Tree of Love far more than strife.

Cancer is outside the loving tree

Afraid, alone, aspires a star. 

The very greediest people in the world

Will never have enough. Enough.

Enough.

Enough.

———————

D4

The Orange Man

Cancer Always Loses in the End

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

Interview with Putin’s favorite DOG-E

Stoned Soup

The Three Blind Mice

The Ailing King of Agitate

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Math Class

Imagine All the People

Peace

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Dance of Billions

The First Ring of Empathy

The Walkabout Diaries: Bee Wise

Travels with Sadie

Plans for US; Some Gruesome

Dance of Billions

To Be or Not to Be

The “All for me!” Bee

21 Tuesday Dec 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

bee, bees, greed, poem, poetry

A fuzzy buzzy honey bee

Is just as happy as can be.

He rests inside a flower head.

What a lovely bower bed! 

The bees had learned to be quite wise 

At least, that’s what I do surmise

For in their bee-ish sort of way.

The bees alive and thrive each day.

For fifty million years survive.

They’ve helped the flowers live and thrive.

But then one day it came to be

A very different sort of bee.

And he proclaimed: “It’s not our lot

To help the flowers; that’s just rot!

And if you’re careful you can see 

We can still keep making honey.

There’s no need to help the rose.

Do they help us? I don’t suppose!”

This long-tongued rogue had so convinced

A new behavior soon evinced. 

The bees avoided pollination 

But gathered stuff for beehive nation. 

Yet all went well or so it seemed 

The bees still thrived and they still dreamed. 

They feasted well in winter’s cold. 

So happy with their new plan bold. 

The sunny spring arrived at last. 

The flowers though no longer massed.

“Each bee for themselves is right! 

Who cares no rose? We’ll fight!

We’ll sting, not sing, you’ll see

We’ll all do well if you give me all your honey!”

The roses gone; no bees to thrive. 

The roses gone; no bees survive.

For greed is poison just like snake. 

And only a fool would follow a fake.


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