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Myths of the Veritas: Book 2 – The ROI

09 Monday Feb 2026

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

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conflict, fiction, leadership, life, myths, peace, politics, story, strategy, tactics, truth, Veritas, war

{Translator’s Note}: The origins of the ROI tribe are not universally agreed upon but the “story” or “myth” or “history” that I personally prefer is the premise used in this story. Their language is precise in some ways, yet deeply embedded at both the syntactic and semantic levels are very rigid category framings. In some areas that we would consider important, they had scarcely any vocabulary at all. For example, they had only one word for love and viewed love as something of a disaster rather than as something wonderful. Often it was described as a kind of disease. (This “disease” allowed us to survive as a species). But for them, things that proved less rigid and less predictable and less quantifiable seem to have been confusing, uncomfortable and evil. Difficulties abounded in my attempts to portray what was actually happening until the Narrator told me that it was fine; he would fix it later because he had an omniscient view. 

What follows served as both a creation myth and a daily devotional prayer among the ROI from early childhood till death.   

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“Long ago, there were many tribes. But our tribe, the ROI, proved best of all. This is what we know: 

“Each tribe had developed a different way of looking at life. Some argued that this was a natural consequence of having spent a long time in a different environment. But we know the truth; we chose our way because it is the best way. Ours is the way of putting numbers to everything and making very strict rules. 

“Other tribes had different ideas so we devised a contest to see which tribe was correct. We would see who could propel their bodies fastest from the north edge of the common plain of Many Herds to the south end of the plain. All the tribes would go and prepare in whatever way they felt best and we would reconvene in one year to see who would win. 

“All the other tribes interpreted our words to mean that we would have individuals from each tribe race for the prize — a fine parcel of land that stretched to the banks of the Stream of Many Trout. The various tribes went off and had various ways of choosing their fastest runners and having them train and train. Of course, we already had a superior solution: horses. After many years we discovered how to capture horses and then train them with the use of whips. Having a superior solution is the reason we suggested the contest.

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“When the day of the Great Contest came, the rest of the tribes were quite shocked to see the champion for the ROI astride a horse. Some seemed to think the horse would kill the human-astride or that the human-astride might break the back of the horse and kill it. Some felt it highly unlikely that the human-astride or rider would stay astride.  {Translator’s Note: Analyses reveal that there was a shortening of the name as “riding” became more widespread.} Naturally, when the race was run, the ROI won. And, also naturally, the other tribes objected. But these objections eventually became mere glowing coals. 

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“Most tribes wanted to know how to capture and train horses. Naturally, we declined to show them. And, that wanting to have as their own that which was rightfully ours is why their complaints rekindled the fires of war. And, so the tribes worked together to drive us from our rightful home and we became wanderers. And so, we have been seeking another land. We will make this happen and destroy whoever now claims such a land. Let us remember this day, and every day of our lives, to assign numbers to all that is and to follow every rule exactly.” 


 

Author page on Amazon

Beginning of the Myths of the Veritas

Feast and Fire

Index to Pattern Language for Cooperation & Teamwork

Essays on “Family Matters”

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Life is a Dance

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

The Dance of Billions

When Greed is the Only Creed

Labelism

Wednesday

It was in his Nature

At Least he’s Our Monster

What Could be Better? A Horror Story

If Only…

Business Process Re-engineering Comes to Baseball

Roar, Ocean, Roar

On Horses?

08 Sunday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in fantasy, fiction, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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decision, fantasy, fiction, horses, leadership, life, myths, peace, politics, short story, story, truth, Veritas, war, writing

Though the Veritas were at high feast and had no known enemies, they reacted with amazing speed and fluid preparedness. They radiated out to previously staked out positions across the stream, opposite the direction of the arrows. Shadow Walker and Fleet of Foot ran with Many Paths. Once under cover, they turned back to assess the situation. 

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Many Paths tracked the flaming arrows still streaming into the Center Place. Her thoughts raced: Who was this enemy that attacked without warning? What had happened to the Veritas guards? Which pre-planned counter-attack should be mounted? Many Paths felt a hand upon her shoulder. It was Fleet of Foot. He pointed to a small herd of horses speeding up the hill on the other side. But…Many Paths stared. These horses had people astride them! For a moment it seemed impossible. Yet, here it was, clearly visible for a moment before the horses and their companions disappeared into the forest. The arrows stopped flying. People and horses running as one? It was all happening too fast for her to decide what to do. She glanced at Fleet of Foot and spoke in a low voice. “A double flanking counter-attack?” 

Fleet of Foot nodded and barked a few short “commands” which were not words but the whistles of birds. The Veritas now streamed out from cover with weapons drawn and bows drawn, ready to overwhelm their enemy. Yet, no such enemy appeared. Those Veritas with the youngest and keenest ears could hear the distant muffled hoofbeats of horses in the wooded hills but no target could be discerned. The arrows were burning out and had not caused any serious or widespread damage. 

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Many Paths quickly convened a war council. Shadow Walker quickly volunteered to lead a tracking party into the woods to determine the origin of this unseen enemy. Fleet of Foot and several other braves agreed to join including their visitors from the Nomads of the South. Many Paths knew that Tu-Swift would also volunteer but she judged that he was not quite ready for such a dangerous adventure. The arguments were forming on her lips but no such request came. She moved on to other matters at hand. 

She turned to Eagle Eyes. “I have trained wolves and you have trained hawks and eagles. Have you imagined to train horses as well?” 

“No, I mean, they are so large and fast and strong. How could one convince such an animal to serve a human? Yet, so too the eagle could easily fly away yet chooses to stay and befriend me. So, perhaps it is possible. I could try. I would have to think on that. It would take time. Much time. It is all happening too quickly.” 

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Many Paths nodded. “Indeed, it all happened too swiftly for me to….” Many Paths broke off her speech and scanned the larger crowd of Veritas who were repairing the feast, putting out small fires, and fetching weapons and provisions for the tracking party. She swallowed hard as panic began to dry her mouth so badly she found it hard to speak loudly. 

“Tu-Swift! TU-SWIFT!! Where is Tu-Swift?” Her council looked about them. Shadow Walker leapt on top of a small log pile and yelled, “Has anyone seen Tu-Swift?” The people paused in their tasks, looking about them. They muttered questions at each other and shook their heads. No-one had seen Tu-Swift since the feast had been interrupted. 

Many Paths breathed deeply to calm herself. The Veritas were looking to her and she needed to keep a cool head. She looked to She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and their eyes locked. The old shaman shook her head imperceptibly. Many Paths understood her meaning — that Many Paths was now the leader and it was up to her to decide what to do. Many Paths nodded back. Again panic almost overtook her as she imagined Tu-Swift injured or dead. Into her mind, unbidden, the image of the death of her parents came to mind. She pushed all this aside and strode over to the table where she had last seen Tu-Swift, dreading to find his lifeless body under the table. 

———————————- 

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Tu-Swift at that moment was alive but already a fair distance away.

Mentally, Tu-Swift screamed: I can’t see! I can’t see!  but he was, in fact, unable to manage more than a muffled grumble. He felt the cloth, tight across his mouth and the dark cloth around his head. He could not imagine what was happening. He felt his body bouncing up and down. Perhaps he had fallen into the rapids, he thought, and the rocks and frothing water tossed his body about like a fluttering leaf. But he didn’t feel wet. Fighting to stay coherent, he tried to organize his thoughts: Inventory. Inventory. An image of Many Paths playing a game with him flashed into his mind. She had explained that, even in confusion, one could use various tricks to stay calm. One was to take inventory. What do I know and what can I sense? 

He began at the top. The back of his head pained him. He could hear. He could see as well, though not well. The world continued to bounce but it was cloth tight around his head that made it difficult to see. He heard pounding all around him. He smelled pine and dirt and horses. His wrists hurt and so did his ankles. He tried to move them but found them tightly bound. The pounding sound, he recognized. And people were talking, but not in the tongue of the Veritas. He tried to recall the snippets of other languages he had heard. This speech didn’t sound like Cupiditas, or the speech of the Southern Nomads nor yet of the Fierce Fighters of the North. 

What did he remember? There had been a race. He had raced Many Paths to the Center Place where they were about to have a feast. Had he won the race? He couldn’t recall. He had turned and run straight into a sapling. It must have knocked him out. No, that wasn’t a hard enough blow. The sapling had sprung him backwards. It had mainly hit his chest, not the back of his head which now throbbed with every bounce. Had he fallen backwards and hit his head? Maybe, but how would that make him tied up? And bouncing? Inventory. Inventory. Tu-Swift tried to sort it out, but nothing made sense and he drifted out of consciousness again. 

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Many-Paths thought she had been fearing the worst: to see the lifeless body of her brother. But when she saw instead, the obvious signs that he had been dragged away, she found that, this was even worse than the worst. If her brother had died, of course, that was cause for grief. But no-one is brought back from the dead. Her journey would be a trail of tears, but it was a single path. Her only strategic choice for the tribe would be whether or not to pursue revenge for her own private motive. It would be easy, she knew, to slide from one issue to the other. She might hate the people who killed her brother and want them all dead, even though this might (or might not) be disastrous for the tribe. They didn’t really know enough about this enemy right now to decide the best course of action. But she could argue and support those who argued that this enemy was dangerous and deadly; that they needed to be weeded out now or they could keep striking like this over and over. There was certainly that possibility. But Many Paths knew that misleading the tribe in even the smallest degree would be the worst possible thing that a leader could do. She would be able, she knew, to fight and win the battle of that temptation. 

But now, Many Paths was faced with a far more painful path, and a far less certain one. She thought: What to do? What was best for Tu-Swift? What was best for everyone? Should they invade, negotiate, run. Determining the best course of action for her own selfish motives would be difficult and complex. Determining the best course of action for her tribe would also be difficult and complex. Trying to disentangle the two so that she could do what was best for the tribe would be more difficult still. She never once doubted whether this was the proper course of action, but she did doubt her ability to do all that. Perhaps she should relinquish leadership to another. She at least knew that she needed the counsel of She Who Saves Many Lives. 

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Many Paths turned to walk to the cabin of She Who Saves Many Lives and there she was and the elder shaman spoke immediately, “You will do the right thing, Many Paths. You will do the right thing. Listen to the heart of your heart and you will know. It is okay to share everything with others to get their input, of course. I know you to be a listener. Go and lead our people. Go.”

“What kind of a people would tear a child from their family?” Many Paths asked.

“Indeed,” said She Who Saves Many Lives, “that is the central question. What kind of a people would tear a child away from their family? And, what will we do about it? Now, Go and lead the people.”

—————————————————————-

Author Page on Amazon.

The Beginning of the Myths of the Veritas. 

Essays on Greed.

A Pattern Language for Collaboration. 

Our Choices Impact Evolution.

Three Part Series on the Pros and Cons of AI. 

Articles on the Uses of Stories and Storytelling. 

The Orange Man

At Least he’s Our Monster

The Ailing King of Agitate

An Open Source from Hell

The Impossible 

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.  

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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. 

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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.  

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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: The Battle on the Northern Path

02 Monday Feb 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, Veritas

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battle, empathy, fiction, leadership, life, myth, peace, politics, strategy, tactics, treason, truth, Veritas, war, writing

The Battle on the Northern Path. 

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She-of-Many-Paths walked among the Veritas accompanied by She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and Shadow-Walker. They wanted to ensure that whatever of importance that one Veritas knew, so did they all know. Mainly, however, they encouraged each of the Veritas to be ready in mind, body, and spirit. Such preparations included not only guards and warriors but every person except for infants in arms. Mothers taught their toddlers how and where to hide and each such mother was well prepared to defend their own home with weapons and skill and strength of body and strength of resolve. While on one of these walks of encouragement and knowledge sharing, the three came upon a curious sight. Eagle Eyes lay face down upon the ground obviously concentrating on something though what was not obvious. She heard the others coming and motioned for them to approach slowly. “Come,” she whispered. “Watch this.” 

So the trio approached quietly and slowly. At first, they saw nothing unusual. Then, She-of-Many-Paths noticed a slight hole in the ground in the shape of a fairy ring mushroom cap turned upside down. Why this held the attention of Eagle Eyes was not clear, but she did like unusual shapes. At the bottom of this small funnel however, She-of-Many-Paths saw two tiny twigs sticking out. As she drew closer, she saw that these sticks were serrated. She slowly knelt on the ground beside Eagle Eyes and then lay on her belly. With her eyes thus very close indeed, she saw that the “twigs” actually consisted of insect jaws. Before long, an ant came along and began to traverse the hole. Then, a very strange and wondrous thing happened. The ant slipped! She grew agitated and began scrambling to climb right back out of the hole. Yet, as she did so, her feet slipped still more so that soon she found herself falling toward the vortex at the center. For an instant, the tiny creature seemed to catch some purchase and made progress toward the rim. Then, the ant lion began tossing sand above the position of the ant and the sand thus cast fell toward the center and made the ant’s feet slip again. At last, her legs still scrambling, the hapless ant slipped into the center of the hole and thus into the jaws of the waiting ant lion who grabbed the ant and slammed it into the sides of the hole driving the ant lion’s jaws deeper into the struggling body of the ant. In a few seconds, she had been devoured.

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She-of-Many-Paths gasped and looked at Eagle Eyes whose large brown eyes locked with her own as she smiled a truer smile than She-of-Many-Paths had seen on the face of Eagle Eyes for quite awhile. 

“That’s amazing, Eagle Eyes, but how can this be? Ants can climb anything. They climb up trees! How can they slip and fail to escape this path that the ant lion desires them to take?” 

“Indeed! That is the question I asked myself! The ant lion is quite precise in the shape it creates, you see. It makes the sides of the hole precisely steep enough. If they were any shallower, the ant could escape. If they were any steeper, the grains of soil would slip of their own accord. As it is, the sides are stable, but only so long as even such a tiny creature as an ant does not tread on it. When that happens, the soil begins to slip and most such creatures fall into the center of such pits though a few do manage to escape.” 

Shadow-Walker had gotten down on the ground to observe as well. “That’s interesting all right. But you do know we have a battle approaching some time soon. We must prepare.”

“Indeed, Shadow-Walker, my thought exactly,” said Eagle Eyes. “You know that steep hill that overlooks the flat green valley by the aspen grove?” 

“Yes, a hill both steep and treacherous because of the small loose stones…oh!…are you thinking…?” questioned Shadow-Walker. 

“Yes! We can make it even more treacherous by adding even more such stones. Warriors very much prefer higher ground and very much to run downhill rather than uphill. Is this not true?”

Shadow-Walker could hardly contain his excitement now. “Yes! Yes! I see! We can contrive to have them run at us down this steep hill, thus carefully prepared. At the bottom of such a hill, they will think to see a great victory, but we will prepare our own jaws of death. Clever, Eagle Eyes!” 

“It’s a wonderful idea, Eagle Eyes!” She-of-Many-Paths was also excited. “How long will it take to prepare the hill with more loose stones?” 

“That part is already done. But I wanted to study further to see if I overlooked anything. And, I’ve already posted enough of the four-rock signs of danger so our own people in their travels here and there do not accidentally fall on this hill now so slippery.” Now, a genuine and full smile appeared on the face of Eagle Eyes. She called out, “Fleet-of-Foot! Come hither!” 

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True to his name, Fleet-of-Foot appeared momentarily. He saw the four of them and quickly comprehended the situation. “Ah, I see you’ve shared our plans. Did you tell them of the markings?”

She-of-Many-Paths asked, “Markings? What markings?”

Now Eagle Eyes laughed slightly. “Even though they call me Eagle Eyes, it was really Fleet-of-Foot who first noticed them. There are markings of charcoal on many trees near our guard posts. At first, we only saw one. Then, another. We thought perhaps some child was practicing his or her drawing skills, but they showed no creative variation and there were too many even for the most obsessive among us. We believe they were put there to guide our enemies. So, we added quite a few, many of which lead to the hill of slippery rocks. But we added others leading to the quicksand and that nasty briar patch of old blackberry bushes by the giant red boulder.” 

Eagle Eyes had a far-away look in her eyes. “I find it very interesting that a shallow slope may be traversed but as it grows steeper and steeper, at some point, it becomes impossible to climb or avoid falling. This gives me an idea about the broad fresh rapid river that grows among the willows and aspens near our center place. We may walk across such a river though many have slipped and none dare try at full flood. But perhaps we could change the shape of such a river so none might walk across. Cousin beaver sometimes builds a dam to change a stream into a lake. Perhaps, he could prove helpful. Can you join me, Fleet-of-Foot? Let us examine our stream.” Off went the two of them. 

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She-of-Many-Paths and She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives continued on their walk to encourage hearts and share knowledge. Shadow Walker said that he would stay behind to try to better understand how slope that is difficult to climb becomes slope that is impossible to climb and seek other new tools of warfare.

As the two women walked between encampments, She-of-Many-Paths grew silent, clearly lost in thought. At last, she sighed and turned to She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives and spoke quietly. “How does it come to pass that one so promising as ALT-R becomes a traitor? And, what of POND MUD? He was never the brightest amongst us, but he seemed to have a good heart. And, what are we to make of the Cupiditas? Is there no path to peace that does not require the destruction of enemies?” 

“I have been searching for just such a path as you speak of all my life. Indeed, many arguments among the Veritas, I have settled, even among the angry, so that no blood was shed and the people became whole again. Trust is much like a bridge. It takes skill and patience to build but only one raging flash flood to break it down and wash away all traces that it ever existed. Beyond the gathering of the corn and the singing of songs, we must continue to search — you may continue to search for such a path, if you so choose. I hope that you find a path without death that can lead from war to peace where I have failed. We may arrange circumstances in many ways to encourage truth and peace. In the end, however, ALT-R chose to feed the evil wolf within himself though I had hoped he would not. KAVA-NUT chose a similar path. POND MUD felt himself inferior in thinking and superior in physical strength so perhaps it is not surprising that he chose power over truth and to follow the devious and self-serving ways of ALT-R. POND MUD and ALT-R make a dangerous pair.

“As for the Cupiditas, so far as I can tell, their ways encourage the path of power over truth. There may be a few among them who long for a different and more harmonious path, but it would be difficult for any such person to follow the path of a true heart. I hope at long last that they may find value in emulating at least some of the ways of the Veritas. A people who rule themselves without regard to the truth may grow for a time just as a seedling might in a dark cave. But without sunlight, such as seedling will shrivel and die. Without truth, a people will also die one way or another. 

“We may encourage our cousins the rattlesnakes and bears not to attack us and mainly they are wise enough not to do so. But if they do, then sometimes we must kill to stay alive. This too is the way of life, after all. If we have erred by showing too much mercy to KAVA-NUT, ALT-R and POND MUD, we will pay a steep price indeed. 

“Listen well, She-of-Many-Paths, for I must ask you now a great favor and extract a great promise. I know that you and Shadow Walker are both wise and brave. You would gladly fight to the death to defend your home and your tribe and your friends. However, if you judge that the Veritas are to be wholly vanquished, promise me that you and Shadow Walker, will not fight to the death but instead leave this place and go elsewhere to find a new home. When you are numerous enough and strong enough, your children’s children’s children must be wise enough to know whether it becomes desirable to reclaim these sacred lands or to simply live where you are and prosper. That I cannot foresee. But you must survive and the stories of the Veritas must as well.”

“No. I will never abandon you and my friends. You ask too much. How could I…?” protested She-of-Many-Paths. 

“Yet ask I must. You know our ways. You know them well and you are wise beyond your years. And, you must become the seeds of a new tribe of the Veritas. Remember well the teachings. And, if by chance you are enslaved, you must still remember the teachings and pass them on secretly until time and circumstance permit you to reclaim your freedom and retake these sacred lands. You and Shadow Walker must not die but must instead ensure that our people and our ways survive. Promise me. You will find a path to victory at last, even if that path must of necessity begin in fleeing or enslavement.”  

She-of-Many-Paths shook her head. “It is much that you ask, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. Yet, I do see the wisdom of your words. Whether I can convince Shadow Walker, however, I do not know. Let us first work toward victory however.” 

“Indeed, I am hopeful. Though the Cupiditas are fierce fighters, I believe them too few to overcome us. Their entire society is based on power and their avoidance of the truth will inevitably be their own downfall. Whether that will happen soon or many seasons hence, we cannot foresee. We must therefore prepare for many contingencies. And, for that, you are indeed, well-suited, She-of-Many-Paths. Very well-suited indeed.”   

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Meanwhile, the Cupiditas made their own final preparations. NUT-PI, after careful consideration, had decided to put poison on the weapons of some of his favorite and most trusted warriors. These were the leaders of the three bands and their captains. Of course, he did not tell them he was putting poison on the weapons for fear that they would realize that this was how he had won his position of power in the first place. Rather the told them that he had imbued their weapons with a magic spell of power that would make their spears and arrows even stronger and more powerful. “Now, listen carefully, warriors! This spell of power will make your weapons more powerful but do not attempt to engage this power yourselves. It is a power that I alone can control. So keep your hands away from the tips of your spears and the tips of your arrows lest you ruin the magic.” He also admonished his special cadre of troops to keep the knowledge of the spell he had cast on their weapons to themselves and not to share what he had done with the other warriors. “Let them believe that it is only because I find favor in you and they will marvel at your strength and effectiveness.” 

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NUT-PI’s servants called the whole of the Cupiditas to come to hear the words of their great leader. 

“Hear me well, oh, people of the Cupiditas, who rightly own all that is in this valley farther than the eye can see. Too long have we shared these lands with the Veritas who prove themselves deceptive and unworthy at every turn. Now, we have contrived to destroy their warriors, steal their possessions, and enslave their women and children. Hurrah!” 

The crowd enthusiastically shouted “HURRAH!  Enslave them! Enslave them! Murder them! Murder them!” 

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NUT-PI smiled with pleasure at how easily led or misled were most of the Cupiditas. ALT-R shouted along with the rest, but secretly felt ashamed that his adopted tribe was so mindless in their obedience to NUT-PI. Then, he realized that he was manipulating POND MUD in much the same way. 

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NUT-PI continued. “We are stronger than the Veritas. And, we know where all their lookouts are. We will sneak in at dusk and kill all their lookouts. Then, right before dawn, we will attack on three fronts to overwhelm them and destroy them. We will have three armies attack on three paths. The first one to overrun their central village will have first pick of the women and children to enslave. But there will plenty of spoils for everyone. The Veritas have no idea we are even going to attack them. They stupidly feel confident that they outnumber us. Here, they are wrong. For I have used my power to summon allies to help us. The fierce warriors of the north will follow us in on the northern path to glory and the nomads to the south will follow us in on the southern path to glory. Why? Because of my brilliant negotiations with them. The fierce warriors of the north will gain by learning the way of the sharp barbed arrowhead from the enslaved Veritas and the nomads of the south will gain by learning the way of unleaking water casks from the enslaved Veritas.”

 

In truth, these very promises had been made. However, he had also promised the fierce warriors of the north that they could have most of the spoils of war including first pick of the women and children. He had made that same promise to the nomads of the south; namely, that they could have most of the spoils of war including first pick among the women and children. NUT-PI well knew that he could not keep both promises along with the promises made to his own people. That was a problem for another day, however. Right now, he needed to reassure his people and drive them to a killing frenzy. He led them in more chanting: “KILL THE VERITAS! ENSLAVE THE VERITAS! KILL THEM! ENSLAVE THEM!” 

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Thus, it came to pass that midday of the first empty moon beyond the summer solstice, nearly all of the Cupiditas warriors left their camp on a great march toward the lands of the Veritas, there to meet up with a large band of fierce warriors from the north. Those of the Cupiditas were led by INGO RICHES, though KAVA NUT was their guide. INGO RICHES carried a battle axe and a long spear enchanted by NUT-PI who was himself to lead the middle throng. INGO RICHES cared little for KAVA NUT whom he considered a very low person to so betray his own people. He did not realize that KAVA NUT, along with ALT-R and POND MUD had been banished from the Veritas for attempting to force themselves on Eagle Eyes and then lying about it. Yet he still felt contempt for such a man as would betray his own tribe, regardless of the circumstances. 

Thoughts of betrayal led INGO RICHES to think back once more to the contest he had witnessed between NUT-PI and CHOFM. Something about it bothered him. NUT-PI did not seem strong enough or well-trained enough to vanquish CHOFM though he had seen it with his own eyes. Indeed, there must be magic in NUT-PI. It was a magic that had been partly put into his own spear. NUT-PI had cautioned everyone not to touch the heads of the weapons which he had put under a spell. INGO RICHES felt he was warrior enough to use his spear quite effectively with or without magic. Perhaps, he thought, NUT-PI does not want to share the power of his magic with others. 

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Presently, the troop of warriors stopped to rest where they were to rendezvous with the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. INGO RICHES went off by himself a ways. He sat beside a crannied rock wall and looked carefully at his spear, particularly at the tip which was now supposedly imbued with magic. It occurred to him that he could grasp the tip and gain some of the magic for himself. NUT-PI may have told his leaders not to touch it simply because he didn’t want them to discover the true source of his power. Thus, in private, he lightly touched the tip. He didn’t feel anything unusual. It felt exactly as it always had. He felt nothing magical or powerful about it. He decided to grasp it more tightly. He still felt nothing magical or powerful. Perhaps it was all a lie? Maybe the magic only came out in the piercing. He decided to make the tiniest of pricks in the end of his little finger as an experiment. Perhaps then he would feel the magic. A tiny drop of blood appeared on his little finger. He shook his head. It felt just as he had thought it would, a tiny pain but no magic and no special power. 

Then, he shuddered with sudden excitement. He felt it! There was magic after all! This was the magical power that NUT-PI had not wanted them to discover. INGO RICHES felt more powerful than he had ever felt before. His muscles pulsed with power. No wonder, NUT-PI had won. He had used this power to overcome CHOFM! INGO RICHES couldn’t believe how powerful he now felt. Every muscle in his body seemed to want to contract all on its own. He didn’t even have to will them to move. But it was cramping. It was all cramping. He had cramps in his hands and biceps and calves and his thighs. He began to thrash violently and tried to cry out but couldn’t. He fell to the ground thrashing this way and that. He felt a terrible crushing pain in his chest and realized that NUT-PI’s magic was too powerful for him to contain. Perhaps NUT-PI really was the chosen one. INGO RICHES tried to scream for help but his jaws, along with the rest of his body, had turned to stone. He thrashed against the crannied wall where his hand chanced upon a small flower. Without willing it so, he grasped the flower tightly pulling it, root and all, to his chest. He stared up into the sky which had become an incredibly bright blue morphing into the pure white of distant stars. He realized he was about to die alone; that he had always been alone; that all of the Cupiditas were alone, each striving for more power than anyone else. He thought to himself, “truth is the real power. We will lose. We will always lose. I should have been born a Veritas.” 

Soon, a large throng of the fierce and formidable warriors of the north arrived at the camp as had been arranged. One among them spoke passably the tongue of the Cupiditas and asked to see the leader among the Cupiditas. “Where is NUT-PI?” 

The lead captain under INGO RICHES, named Troy-Paven, answered, “NUT-PI is leading the middle of our three attacks. Our leader is INGO RICHES who will return momentarily.” 

“Among our tribe, it is considered very rude not to have him here to greet us,” he said solemnly. “Find him. We must parley.” 

Troy-Paven beckoned to one of his underlings. “Go fetch INGO RICHES and ask him if it would please him to join us now as the fierce and formidable warriors of the north have arrived. He walked off over by that wall.” Troy-Paven thought it odd that INGO RICHES had not come when the northern warriors had arrived. They had made no secret of their arrival. INGO RICHES should have both seen and heard them and for that matter, smelled them as well, he thought, with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Momentarily, Troy-Paven’s underling returned, ashen-faced. “Well? I told you to bring INGO RICHES,” barked Troy-Paven. 

“Most honored Troy-Paven, might I have a moment to talk with you alone?”

“No! I told you…what is the problem? What did he tell you?” barked Troy-Paven even louder. He wanted to show the fierce and formidable warriors of the north that his men followed his orders completely. It was not going well. 

“Troy-Paven, my captain, INGO RICHES lies yonder by that crannied wall. Alas, he cannot speak or come hither because…because he is dead.”

At this, Troy-Paven leapt at his underling and struck him across the face with the blade of his hand. “Do not bring me such lies! Where is INGO-RICHES?!” 

“Oh, Sir, I speak the truth. He is dead, I know not how.” 

Again, Troy-Paven struck his hapless underling for delivering bad news to a superior, as was the customary way to react to bad news among the Cupiditas. Troy-Paven put extra energy into these blows however because he was being embarrassed in front of the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. 

“I will ask you one more time. This time. The truth. Or, I swear, I will kill you myself!” said Troy-Paven tonelessly. His jaw was clenched and his face was ashen. 

“I will fetch him, most noble one and he will tell you himself.” Off the man scurried. Troy-Paven shook his head and looked at the leader of the northern warriors and tilted his head as though to indicate that this was an unfortunate anomaly among the Cupiditas. Meanwhile, the visage of the northern leader remained stoic and unreadable. Soon, the hapless underling of Troy-Paven appeared dragging the twisted and lifeless body of INGO-RICHES whose claw-gripped hand still grasped the flower, root and all. 

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Troy-Paven stared uncomprehendingly. More of the fierce and formidable warriors from the north were gathering around trying to understand what was happening. Troy-Paven, up to now, had spent most of his career being a lackey for INGO-RICHES. Now, he found himself suddenly in charge of warriors without orders from INGO-RICHES. 

KAVA-NUT watched all this unfold. He thought about what might happen if fighting were to break out between the northern warriors and the Cupiditas. He did not really like fighting all that much in any case. He much preferred to overpower smaller women with the help of a friend or two. He decided this might be the right time to sneak off and meet up with ALT-R and POND MUD. He had, after all, some unfinished business with Eagle Eyes. Just as POND MUD had designs on She-of-Many-Paths.

As for ALT-R…Who did ALT-R fancy? POND MUD realized that he had never really asked himself that question before. He now realized upon reflection that whenever anyone brought up the topic, ALT-R had been very vague or had changed the subject. Oh, well, what did it matter? He decided to jog for a bit in order to put a longer distance between himself and the force he was supposed to be scouting for. But, he wondered: Who wants to be a scout? The scout would be the first one to be pierced with an arrow or spear. 

As he neared the land where the Veritas became more probable, he stopped jogging and climbed a nearby knoll. From here, he could see in the distance that warriors were again on the path behind him. Apparently, he thought, the tribes had devised a plan of attack and were again working together as planned. He wondered whether he should return in that case and excuse his apparent absence as being simply part of his duty as an advanced scout. On the other hand, he would still be expected to be leading and if he were discovered by the Veritas….after all, he had been banished and could be killed on sight. The warriors coming en masse would be much safer than he would be. 

KAVA-NUT looked back through the teachings he had learned from the Veritas and recalled the words of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives who had been having them observe many different types of animals. She had summed up her message by saying, “There is always another way. Nature is infinitely clever in her variety and diversity. You can do the same with your thinking.” KAVA-NUT then recalled that She-of-Many-Paths had taken this lesson much to heart and began showing off with her answers about just how many other ways she could think of. So, I will be safer, he thought, if I can better camouflage myself and stay away from the paths I marked. Then, I have the best chance of meeting up with ALT-R and POND MUD after they’ve taken the middle and southern paths and most of the fighting is done. After deciding on this new non-path path, he jogged down from the knoll and turned down the path and tore a few leafy branches from seedlings contriving to adorn himself with the branches, thus becoming less visible generally and less recognizable to the Veritas. He hoped that the warriors behind him would assume he had gone down the marked path from the evidence of these recently torn bushes. But KAVA-NUT had other plans and he jogged back the other direction behind a thick copse of birches. He was now angling in toward the middle path. Here at least, the warriors were all to be of the Cupiditas and they would be following orders and there would be no need for coordinating two tribes. 

For a time KAVA-NUT turned due west toward the central place of the Veritas, tracing out a path he reckoned to be well south of the one that the northern force was taking and yet well north of the central path. For this reason, he was quite surprised to find one of the AGAM marks that they had carefully placed to guide the forces to elude the guardians and then come behind them and ambush them. 

This must be the work of ALT-R who had reconnoitered the middle path. KAVA-NUT was quite sure that he himself had not placed it here. In another few hundred yards, he encountered another such mark. KAVA-NUT looked back through the forest trying to get a clear look at distant mountains to better orient himself. He found himself filled with uncertainty for he could not tell where he was from his few glimpses of mountain peaks. He could not believe he had strayed this far south to cross ALT-R’s path, yet here he was. It had to be ALT-R’s path, he reasoned. He saw no evidence at all that they had yet come by here. If I simply wait here for them, they will eventually meet up with me. It would soon prove too dark to advance much anyway. KAVA-NUT felt bone tired. He realized that had not felt really good since…since trying to convince Eagle Eyes that she loved him. And, she did. Of that he was sure. She may not know it, he thought, but she does. And she will. Because I will make her. And POND MUD will have his way with She-of-Many-Paths. She-of-Many-Paths. 

Hah! If Many-Paths were here right now, she would rattle on about other paths of thought and how the first few ideas that occur to you are likely wrong. And she would continue and it would be annoying. It’s annoying to think of so many paths. He whispered aloud: “Damn her!” For despite his will, he found himself considering yet another explanation. The Veritas might have discovered these markings and put false markers in various places to confuse the advancing armies. If that were so, he should return and warn the soldiers…but it would only make sense if we were not there to lead the soldiers. It wouldn’t do any good to put false markers because I would lead them to the correct ones which I just placed there. Again, the image of Eagle Eyes came to him, unbidden. “Damn you! Leave me alone!” He had spoken aloud and spoken loudly. He squatted motionless with his camouflage boughs in place. He heard nothing. In the stillness, it occurred to him that the Veritas would have no way to know that The Three would all serve as scouts. 

He waited patiently all evening and all night, but no-one came. Sure enough, it must be a false trail he was on. He ignored the marks and homed toward the center of the Veritas people. I have a date of destiny with Eagle Eyes, he thought. Then, it suddenly occurred to him that Ealge Eyes might be killed in battle long before he had his chance to subdue her. Walking alone, he made good time and arrived mid-day at the edge of the Veritas central place. Here there was a wide stream of fast-flowing fresh water with large aspens and willows lining both the banks. And, sure enough, at the edge of this was none other than Eagle Eyes! The fool was playing with rocks at the edge of the small river like some child. You’re under attack, he wanted to shout. How can you be so stupid? You need me to control you, and that I will. Amazingly, she was all by herself just like last time. He dropped his boughs and ran at her fill tilt, splashing through the shallow stream. She seemed frozen on the spot and made no attempt to flee. 

“Well, my sweet one” he yelled. “You and I have a date with destiny. We have unfinished business.” He strode toward her confidently for he outweighed her easily by half again. Eagle Eyes stood and faced him. 

“Indeed we do.” Then KAVA-NUT heard her scream. She must be terrified, he thought, joyfully. He came up to her and grabbed her with both of his long arms and wrapped them tightly around her, pinning her arms to her side. “I was banished because of you, Eagle Eyes. And now I will have my justice at last.”

Eagle Eyes continued to scream in a high-pitched thin tone. Then her eyes flicked upward and she looked back down to stare at KAVA-NUT. “Your justice? I don’t think so. Justice should be blind.” 

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“Don’t talk nonsense Eagle Eyes. Now, lie down on your back and learn…WHAT?!” KAVA-NUT let go of Eagle Eyes and fell to his knees screaming in pain as both his hands shot up to his right eye. Then, as quick as the beat of a birds wing he felt another searing hot pain in his left eye. The last thing he saw was the beak of an eagle or hawk slashing toward his eye. He screamed so loudly as to be nearly incoherent though many heard these words. “NO! NO! NO! Oh, I am blind! You did this Eagle Eyes! You did this! I will still have you, you witch! Wait till the other two armies come! We will destroy you! And I will have you yet!” 

Out from behind an ancient willow, Fleet-of-Foot walked slowly toward him, bow drawn. “I don’t think so.” 

“Nor I,” said Eagle Eyes who had now approached KAVA-NUT with her hunting knife drawn. “You are banished and any of the Veritas may kill you. But they have left that chore to me.” 

“You’d better be nice to me! I … how the hell did you tear my eyes out? Did you turn yourself into an Eagle? I will kill you. KILL YOU! My friends will be here soon. Not just ALT-R and POND MUD but nomads from the south and fierce, formidable fighters from the far north. WE WILL OWN YOU! We will OWN you! We will…my eyes. Oh, my eyes. My eyes!” 

Fleet-of-Foot put away his bow and put a hammer lock on KAVA-NUT, nearly dislocating the latter’s shoulder. Working together, Fleet-of-Foot and Eagle Eyes quickly tied KAVA-NUT’s hands behind him. 

Eagle Eyes said, “Come, we do not want you polluting our stream.” Eagle Eyes and Fleet of Foot decided to come put KAVA-NUT on display for all to see. He was set upon a high bar, his hands still tied behind him. The trained hawk of Eagle Eyes had not quite had his fill for he had fledgelings to help feed. Periodically, the hawk returned to feed on the eyes and face of KAVA-NUT. Tearing a piece of meat off with its sharp beak and claws, he would return to the nest where the eager young squawked in delight. Indeed, justice was served. 

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The Veritas, having moved their guard posts and arranged for bird call communication, were aware of the northern army which marched noisily and clumsily toward what they thought were the guard posts of the Veritas. Without any local guide, and with a path to victory marked by many false trails, the northern army, under no clear leadership floundered into the forest and became little more than a meandering mob. Every so often, one of their number would fall into a trap or be shot through with a poison arrow, but no archer was ever seen. 

The leader of the northern warriors and Troy-Paven had discovered that NUT-PI had promised the same spoils and first choice in slaves to both the Cupiditas and the northern warriors. Troy-Paven decided not to argue this point however as his own men were greatly outnumbered by the fierce and formidable warriors of the north. Once they joined up with the middle army which was where the main force of warriors of the Cupiditas were, they would be in the majority and then, they could argue about who got what for their efforts. First, they must work together to enslave the Veritas. As more and more warriors were suddenly assailed by an unseen enemy, the leader of the Northerners became more and more inclined to leave off this war. They had no real quarrel with the Veritas. Often, they had, in fact, made mutually beneficial trades with them. He also found it personally offensive to interact with the Cupiditas who so relied on hierarchy and protocol as to be stupidly inflexible in battle. The fierce and formidable warriors of the north believed in fighting in an individualistic and heroic way. The Cupiditas believed in a strict hierarchy of command and control that was wildly unsuited to the current operation. It soon transpired, that at the insistence of Troy-Paven, the troops had followed the “marked trail” to victory into a briar patch and then into quicksand. The leader of the fierce and formidable soldiers of the north, named URDU-TEA, decided he had had enough and called for his men to follow him back to their own village. 

Troy-Paven knew that if NUT-PI found out he had let their ally slip away, it would be certain death. To face down this general would probably be the same. But what could he offer him to stay? 

“We go.” said URDU-TEA and his men began to follow him. 

“Wait! Don’t go! You can’t leave. NUT-PI will destroy you when he is done with the Veritas.”

“Where is this NUT-PI? I have not seen him. And where is this ‘scout’ who was supposed to guide us? What became of him? And, why did your own leader fall dead in your midst? You are not an army. You are a joke. We will let you live. Attack the Veritas. Don’t attack the Veritas. In truth, we don’t really care. But either way, your path and our path are no longer the same. Try to stop us and you will all die. We GO!” 

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Troy-Paven’s jaw dropped but he had nothing to say. He frowned and thought: What had happened with KAVA-NUT anyway? We’ve now spent countless hours trying one false path and then another. We had yet to find a single occupied guard post and certainly not surprised anyone. If anything, we are the ones being slaughtered by surprise. INGO-RICHES was right when he had echoed the words of NUT-PI: “Who can trust a traitor?” Yet, INGO-RICHES lay dead. KAVA-NUT had disappeared. 

Troy-Paven could not believe he had not realized this earlier:  KAVA-NUT was not a traitor! He had killed INGO-RICHES and laid false trails at the behest of the Veritas! Then, he had run off so they wouldn’t discover either of his crimes. Troy-Paven now saw a clear course of action. He must head due south and try to warn the middle wave of warriors which was being led by NUT-PI himself. They were all walking into a carefully set trap laid by the Veritas. He let the fierce and formidable warriors of the north pass without incident. When they were out of earshot, he ordered his men that they would now be heading due south to meet up with the larger force of the Cupiditas. He did not share why he thought this was a good idea nor his insight that the trio of so-called traitors must really still be working on behalf of the Veritas. He and he alone wanted to take the credit for bringing this critical intelligence to their glorious leader.    

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Author Page on Amazon. 

Essays on America:

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

My Cousin Bobby

Wednesday

You Bet Your Life

The Update Problem

The Stopping Rule

The Game

The Loud Defense of Untenable Positions

FREEDOM!!

The Declaration of Interdependence

What About the Butter Dish?

Labelism

Selected Poetry

Life is a Dance

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Imagine All the People…

The Dance of Billions

 

 

Myths of the Veritas: The Fifth Ring of Empathy

25 Sunday Jan 2026

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

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The day after the Prophesy Dream of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives dawned clear and clean. The air smelled as sweet as ever and sweeter still to the shaman who had dreamt of a world of dirty air. The clear morning sun rainbowed on raindrops on every bush. Trees sported their first leaves of spring which are as various in colors as those of autumn but because the leaves are yet babies, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives could see much more deeply into the land about her. It filled her heart with gladness even more deeply on this spring morn. She decided that she would share her dream with all of the Veritas, but only after she took the time to craft the telling so that each would receive the gift as she had — the gift of great gratitude. For she well knew that experiencing that dead white world as she had made her redouble her appreciation for the real world but that simply telling others about her dream would not be enough to gift them the same great gratitude. It would take time to decide how best to share her gift. 

Meanwhile, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives walked to the main village to see who among “The Six Who See Through Animal Eyes” was already at work on their various tasks. The eyes of the shaman, though old, remained clear and her mind remained retentive so that as she passed through the village greeting this person and that person from among the Veritas, she observed many things both small and large. And, among the small things she noticed were a number of crushed ants. She looked around for Pond Mud but he was nowhere near. On a hunch, she decided to visit the place where she had shown Pond Mud the strength of ants. As always among the Veritas, and as she had been trained all her life, her footsteps were as silent as those of bobcat. Before she reached the clearing with the broken cabin, she could hear the angry voice of Pond Mud. And though the eyes of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives were as clear as ever, she well knew that her hearing was not so good as that of a youth such as Pond Mud. As she approached, she could hear the tone of voice of Pond Mud become sweet and she greatly suspected that he had heard her coming despite her silent way of walking. 

He met her at the entrance to the clearing and spoke first, “Ah, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, it is good to see you. I am headed back to the village. I was just trying to learn more about ants though I well understand that I am no longer in contention for another ring of empathy. Such learning is still a good thing. Anyone can see that.” 

“I am glad to hear you say that. The statement is correct. Anyone can see that. Though some choose not to see. I hear that you have become still better friends with Alt-R. Is this so?” 

“Yes, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, we have been training together to become still better hunters. And, that skill, as you well know, also requires seeing through the eyes of animals. May I accompany you back to the village and I will tell you something of what I have learned?”

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives wished to examine the clearing but decided it could be better done later while Pond Mud busied himself with other tasks. So, she returned to the village still feeling great gratitude for the fullness of the life around her. 

During this day, she observed the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes at their various tasks as well as much more. When Alt-R and Pond Mud, along with several other hunters, went to practice spear throwing, she returned to the clearing. Alas, her hunch had been correct. Pond Mud had not simply been observing ants; he had been systematically killing them. Even more disturbing, many had been tortured. And, even more disturbing than those actions, had been the dissembling of Pond Mud. He had known what she would like to have heard — that he had taken her lessons to heart. Her mood soured for this was the sort of deception that could destroy a village or indeed an entire tribe. It would have to be curbed very soon and most likely shared with the entire tribe. She held out some hope however, that the heart of Pond Mud could yet be turned to good. For if not, he would certainly be exiled, a rare and severe punishment which invariably lead to  a short and lonely life. 

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As the delicate beginnings of spring gave way to the fullness of another summer, the tasks of the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes gave way from planning to building. Soon, the time came for all to recount their learning. When She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives saw that this was so, she called each of The Six to her as one. She asked each pair in turn to describe their experiences for she wanted to judge not only the maker but also the mentor as well as how they recalled events differently, as people do, and how such differences were resolved. The shaman also knew that each of The Six could learn from all these experiments in trying to use the way of how-to of another.

The first to report on their experience together were the hammock-builder, Fleet-of-Foot and his mentor, Trunk-of-Tree. According to Trunk-of-Tree, he first tried to show Fleet-of-Foot how he would make a hammock with great thought as to its longevity and strength so that it would last against time and some misuse. Fleet-of-Foot had resisted such advice and had immediately begin building the hammock. Six such hammocks had Fleet-of-Foot constructed over three days time and each such hammock had collapsed.

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Fleet-of-Foot admitted that these hammocks had broken but he claimed it was because Trunk-of-Tree had given him faulty materials and bad advice. At long last, in frustration, Fleet-of-Foot had challenged Trunk-of-Tree to show him how he would build a hammock and instead, Trunk-of-Tree had spent an entire morning making tools, and laying things out, and not even starting on the hammock. Fleet-of-Foot grew impatient because obviously, Trunk-of-Tree had had no intention of showing Fleet-of-Foot how to build a hammock. When Fleet-of-Foot came back a few hours later, the hammock was finished. This they agreed upon, and as to its sturdiness, but Fleet-of-Foot was sure that Trunk-of-Tree had cheated by getting others to help him make his hammock. Otherwise, argued Fleet-of-Foot, how could slow Trunk-of-Tree make a hammock in a day when fast Fleet-of-Foot finished no hammocks in three days? 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had much to say about this experiment, but she held her tongue and first asked the others from among The Six what they thought. After some long silence, Shade Walker said this, “I have known both all my life and have never known Trunk-of-Tree to cheat or lie. Fleet-of-Foot is fast; of this, there is no question. But he also sometimes rushes into things so quickly that he ends up taking more time. I have myself only made three hammocks so I am not so expert as Trunk-of-Tree and perhaps mine are not quite so sturdy but they were all finished in one day.” 

She-of-Many-Paths spoke next. “I have never made a hammock. But I have been listening to many expert craftsman in our village and every such has cautioned me to take the time to plan the work carefully. Whether it is making spears, making spearheads, making pottery, or baking bread, it is critical to ensure that you have a good plan; that you have chosen your materials well; that you have prepared and tested at each step along the way. So, I can well believe that Too-Fleet-of-Foot could charge off along the wrong path six times in three days while Trunk-of-Tree could take a more deliberate path to create a hammock in one day.” 

Easy Tears knew it was his turn to speak but did not wish to offend anyone. “I cannot really tell because I was not a witness to these recounted events. I believe that each told us of their own experiences as they now recall them. And, ultimately, both were successful because now there is a hammock that was not there before and Trunk-of-Tree served as mentor and judge.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives nodded to Eyes-of-Eagle who spoke carefully, molding the shape of her argument and the shape of each sentence and each word. “I find that trying to create something in the way of another how-to is a difficult task. So, it was with Trunk-of-Tree and Fleet-of-Foot. Fleet-of-Foot grew too quickly impatient and rather than trying to build in the way of Trunk-of-Tree instead built in his own way of how-to which was not sufficient to the task. Rather than learn another, more careful way from someone who knows and uses the careful way, he insisted on sticking with his own way though that way did not work. However, Trunk-of-Tree, though he took his time with the hammock, was likewise impatient with Fleet-of-Foot and ended up building the hammock himself which was not his assigned task.”   

{Translator’s Note}: In the original, these recountings, have apparently been preserved in great detail. Though scholars differ, I tend to believe the details are correct despite their being passed down orally because the Veritas developed many methods to ensure the accuracy of their traditional learning stories and because the details of their skills were vital to their survival. Since most modern readers have little little experience weaving baskets or making a hide tent, I omit much of those details in my summaries. Instead, I focus on the lessons learned and the decisions of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. 

Now, as was her way, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives asked Fleet-of-Foot and Trunk-of-Tree whether they had found any further learning while listening to the comments of his compatriots. 

Fleet-of-Foot immediately began, “Wonderful comments. I learned much. However, the important thing is that I was asked to produce a hammock in the way of how-to of Trunk-of-Tree and such a hammock was indeed constructed. I caused that to happen by my actions so I believe I completed my task. Fast is good. But sometimes, the fastest way to accomplish something is to have someone else who is even faster do the job. Either way, faster is better.” 

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She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives stared at Fleet-of-Foot and sighed. Still, she did not speak. Instead, she turned to Trunk-of-Tree. The latter’s face flushed as he said, “Fleet-of-Foot is indeed impatient, but so was I. My job was to mentor Fleet-of-Foot in the way of how-to for strength and longevity yet after three days, I gave up and made the hammock myself. I believed that if I demonstrated to him that I could make the hammock more quickly by being careful and planning each step that Fleet-of-Foot would learn the lesson. I made this judgement based on my own way of how-to. I would have learned the lesson this way. But this is not the way of learning of Fleet-of-Foot. He is too impatient to learn in this way. He left even before I finished; in fact, barely after I had made preparations for the work. He believes I encouraged or cajoled others to help me, which I did not do, because I failed to teach him the slow and methodical way of how-to. So, I too failed in my task.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives again turned to “Fleet of Foot” and prompted, “And…?” Fleet-of-Foot answered thusly, “Trunk-of-Tree may have failed but I did not. We should see who else besides me deserves the next ring of empathy.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives chuckled. “I have dreamed of such a one as you, Fleet-of-Foot, and when the time comes, I will indeed, shrink our group as is befitting, as well as sharing my dream. I would now observe, however, that Trunk-of-Tree has shared a great learning for all of us. What would have sufficed for him to have learned the lesson of patience did not work for you. On the other hand, you have shown no learning whatever. The tree of your learning has not added a single branch or leaf so far as I can see. Fleet-of-Foot, you wished to win a race; lost the race; then showed no interest in discovering how you could have won the race. This is the way of “Fast-at-First-and-Slow-at-Last.” 

So, in turn, did each of the pairs recount their experiences and learnings. 

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Trunk-of-Tree made a basket very slowly and carefully. Yet, no-one wanted to trade very much for such a basket; not nearly enough to satisfy Trunk-of-Tree’s desire for compensation for so much time spent. Easy-Tears had been quite content to watch the strong hands of Trunk-of-Tree working the reeds over and under and through. It had been quite mesmerizing. She had said almost nothing during the making, but when Trunk-of-Tree found no-one willing to trade much for his basket, she showed Trunk-of-Tree how the addition of a some brightly colored dyes in a pleasing pattern changed such luck and how such additions made his sturdy basket much more desirable in the eyes of the clan. Trunk-of-Tree had been quite surprised at this common reaction. He had thought the purpose of a basket was to hold things and this goal he had accomplished quite well. However, Easy-Tears had shown him how just a little extra work, though not making the basket stronger or more functional, could greatly increase how badly others wanted such a useful basket. 

Shade-Walker and Eagle-Eyes recounted their adventures in jug making. At first, Shade Walker had mainly loved the feel of the wet clay spinning through his hands. With the hands of Eagle Eyes guiding his, however, he learned to enjoy the sight of the evolving shape as well. In the end, both had gone on to make a series of beautiful jugs. Eagle Eyes had ended up loving the feel of the wet clay, although what she had loved the most was the feel of Shade Walker’s fingers, she admitted. 

Eyes-of-Eagle explained that she found if very difficult to make a dream catcher under the tutelage of Fleet-of-Foot since she herself had wanted the end result to be beautiful and Fleet-of-Foot kept encouraging her to proceed more and more quickly. However, as Fleet-of-Foot at last perceived that his constant encouragement toward ever more speed made Eyes-of-Eagle both more error prone and more testy with him, he instead encouraged her by telling her that she was amazingly fast. Everyone could see that Fleet-of-Foot was again interested in speed; however, in this case, his interest had been more in speed of becoming more intimate with Eyes-of-Eagle than in the speed of making a dream catcher. 

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She-of-Many-Paths told of how she had wanted to make a tent for Shade Walker. Shade Walker had liked watching her and had asked if she were enjoying the process of making the tent. She had blushed — and had said that she was very much enjoying herself. After they get over their awkwardness, they had talked about the various ways of how-to and had decided together that being grounded and having a satisfying process are very much akin. Though these are different ways of how-to, one helps provide the other, they had surmised. This they shared with The Six and the shaman and all had agreed. 

Upon recounting and subsequent questioning, all learned that Easy-Tears had wanted the travois to be popular and had difficulty even understanding what She-of-Many-Paths meant by constructing a travois so that it encouraged a “grounded” view of life. Easy-Tears had been watching She-of-Many-Paths and Shade-Walker for some time however, and decided that what She-of-Many-Paths really wanted was Shade-Walker. Easy-Tears suggested that if She-of-Many-Paths wanted Shade-Walker, it would be best for everyone to be done quickly with the travois project so that She-of-Many-Paths could spend more time with Shade-Walker who had lately been spending much time with Eagle-Eyes, their long fingers inter-twined with those in the wet clay which they shaped together. In return, Easy-Tears had promised to teach She-of-Many-Paths the path to popularity and thereby to further increase the interest with which Shade-Walker would view She-of-Many-Paths. 

At the end of day, after every such recounting and dialogue, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives quietly took out a small, folded deerskin. This deerskin held a number of rings of hemp woven into a complex, repeating, yet ever-changing pattern. “The time has come,” she began, “to chose which among all the Veritas is ready to take on the next challenge. All of you have done well and should now be more of a contributor than ever to the Veritas. I have challenged you in many ways to see and feel as others do. In this, you have all shown much skill in the ways of empathy.”

“As you know, each of us is a small leaf on the very large Tree of Life, a tree that has been growing and expanding through all of earth. We are all connected: the people who are the Veritas, other people, other animals, every bird, every plant. We are all connected. With empathy, you may be able to tune in to the tree itself. As you have observed, when we sing and play music and dance, the self-same beat is in everyone and every drum vibrates. If two strings are of the same length, and one is plucked the other may also vibrate. The life in all is in all.

“Learning to tune in to the music, to the beat of another person, or to the great Tree of Life is a great gift to be greatly encouraged. However, you must understand that this is the Tree of Life itself that you are tuning into in order to understand others. When you do such tuning in, you must do so for the good of others, for this great Tree of Life. If instead, you tune in only to serve your own ends, you are using the Tree of Life in a way that destroys the tree itself. Empathy is a way to make us whole. It should never be used to divide us. 

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“Fleet-of-Foot, you had some ability to understand the way of Trunk-of-Tree. This knowledge you used to subvert the task at hand. You therefore emerged from the womb of this great opportunity for you to have learned patient working instead unchanged. You also used your understanding of Eyes-of-Eagle, not to help her learn other ways, but to flatter her to try to get her to become closer to you. Ultimately, this way of using empathy always pushes others away. Some may understand quickly and some may take years. But ultimately, tuning in to the Tree of Life in order to bend it to your own purpose will fail for you. It may also, as shown in my dream, cause the Tree of Life itself to fail. 

“Easy-Tears, you were honest and helpful in your work with Trunk-of-Tree. You helped him to understand in a deep way that the surface beauty of something, while it may not be of much value to him, is nonetheless of value to others. In this, you did well. However, you tried to use your knowledge of the affection that She-of-Many-Paths has for Shade-Walker to try to get her to accept your lack of being able to understand the way of how-to of grounding every action. She-of-Many-Paths saw through this ruse and told us honestly of what happened. Yours was also a misuse of empathy. You were not primarily interested in helping She-of-Many-Paths as you claimed, but were more interested in getting your task finished. Moreover, if you really understood deeply Trunk-of-Tree and She-of-Many-Paths, you would see that a surface popularity is not what draws them together. Rather, they are being drawn together by the Tree of Life itself; e.g., their own future children.

“Please understand. Your own ways of how-to are each valuable. And you are all skilled in empathy. For now, I bestow the Fourth and Fifth Rings of Empathy on only those who tune in to the great Tree of Life to help the great Tree of Life. If I become convinced at some future time that others have also learned this great lesson, they too may receive the Fourth and Fifth Rings. For now, please come to me to receive your rings for you have earned them.”

Trunk-of-Tree, Shade-Walker, Eyes-of-Eagles, and She-of-Many-Paths each came in turn, knelt before the shaman and received their double rings. Each such person had much to think about and they walked back to their lodgings in silence.  

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Fraught Framing: The Virulent “Versus” Virus

29 Monday Dec 2025

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, creativity, driverless cars, management, psychology

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Climate change, creativity, Democracy, Design, environment, framing, history, innovation, IQ, life, peace, politics, problem formulation, problem solving, school, technology, testing, thinking, TRIZ, truth, USA, war

Fraught Framing: The Virulent “Versus” Virus

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Like most of us, I spent a lot of time in grades K through 12 solving problems that others set for me. These problems were to be solved by applying prescribed methods. In math class, for example, we were given long division problems and we solved them by doing — you guessed it — long division. We were given history questions and asked who discovered [sic] America and we had to answer “Christopher Columbus” because that’s what the book said and that’s what the teacher had said. 

Even today, as of this writing, when I google “problem solving” I get 332,000,000 results. When I google “problem formulation” I only get 1,430,000 results — less than 1%. (“Problem Framing,” which is a synonym, only returned 127,000). [2025 Update: Google no longer provides this information. Indeed, the only non-commercial link I see is one to Wikipedia. The first entry to any search is typically their AI answer.]

And yet, in real life, at least in my experience, far greater leverage, understanding, and practical benefit comes from attention to problem formulation or problem framing. You still need to do competent problem solving, but unless you have properly framed the problem, you will most often find yourself doing much extra work; finding a sub-optimal solution; being stymied and finding no solution; or solving completely the wrong problem. In the worst case scenario, which happens surprisingly often, you not only solve the “wrong problem.” You don’t even know that you’ve solved the wrong problem. 

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There are many ways to go wrong when you frame the problem. Here, I want to focus on one particularly common error in problem framing which is to cast a problem as a dichotomy, a contest, or a tradeoff between two seemingly incompatible values. We’ve all heard examples such as “Military Defense Spending versus  Foreign Aid” or “Dollars for Police versus After School Programs” or “Privacy versus Convenience” or “A Woman’s Right to Choose versus the Rights of the Unborn Fetus” or “Heredity versus Environment” or “Addressing Climate Change versus Growing the Economy.” 

One disadvantage of framing things as a dichotomy is that it tends to cause people to polarize in opinion. This, in turn, tends to close the minds on both sides of an issue. A person who defines themselves as a “staunch defender” of the Second Amendment “Gun Rights”, for instance, will tend not to process information or arguments of any kind. If they hear someone say something about training or safety requirements, rather than consider whether this is a good idea, they will instead immediately look for counter-arguments, or rare scenarios, or exceptional statistics. The divisive nature of framing things as dichotomies is not what I want to focus on here. Rather, I would like to show that these kinds of “versus” framings often lead even a single problem solver astray. 

Let’s examine the hidden flaws in a few of these dichotomies. At a given point in time, we may indeed only have a fixed pool of dollars to spend. So, at first blush, it seems to make sense that if we spend more money on Foreign Aid, we may have fewer dollars to spend on Military Defense and vice versa. Over a slightly longer time frame, however, relations are more complex. 

woman standing on sand dune throwing hat

Photo by The Lazy Artist Gallery on Pexels.com

It might be that a reasonable-sounding foreign aid program that spends dollars on food for those folks facing starvation due to drought is a good thing. However, it might turn on in a specific case, that the food never arrives at the destination but instead is intercepted by local War Lords who steal the food and use it get money to buy more weapons to enhance their power; in turn, this actually makes the starvation worse. Spending money right now on military operations to destroy the power of the warlords might be a necessary prerequisite to having an effective drought relief programs.  

Conversely, spending money today on foreign aid, particularly if it goes toward women’s education, will be very likely to result in the need for less military intervention in the future. That there is a “fixed pie” to be divided is one underlying metaphor that leads to a false framing of issues. In the case of spending on military “versus” foreign aid, the metaphor ignores the very real interconnections that can exist among the various actions. 

There are other problems with this particular framing as well. Another obvious problem is that how money is spent is often much more important than the category of spending. To take it to an absurd extreme, if you spend money on the “military” and the “military” money is actually to arm a bunch of thugs who subvert democracy in the region, it might not make us even slightly safer in the short run. Even worse, in the long run, we may find precisely these same weapons being used against us in the medium turn. Similarly, a “foreign aid” package that mostly goes to deforesting the Amazon rain forest and replacing it with land used to graze cows, will be ruinous in the long run for the very people it is supposedly aimed to help. In the slightly longer term, it speeds destructive (and anti-economic) climate change for everyone on the planet.

bird s eye view of woodpile

Photo by Pok Rie on Pexels.com

False dichotomies are not limited to the economic and political arena. Say for example that you are designing a car or truck for delivering groceries. If you design an axle that is too thin, it may be too weak and subject to breakage. But if you make it too thick, it will be heavy and the car will not accelerate or corner as well and will also have worse gas mileage. On the surface, it seems like a real “versus” situation: thick versus thin, right? Maybe. Let’s see what Altshuller has to say.

Genrich Altshuller was a civil engineer and inventor in the Stalin era of Soviet Russia. He wrote a letter to Stalin explaining how Russian science and engineering could become more creative. A self-centered dictator, Stalin took such suggestions for improvement as personal insults so Altshuller was sent to the Gulags. Here, he met many other scientists and engineers who had, one way or another, gotten on the wrong side of Stalin. He discussed technical issues and solutions in many fields and developed a system called TRIZ (a Russian acronym) for technical invention. He uses the axle as one example to show the power of TRIZ. It turns out that the “obvious” trade-off between a thick, strong but heavy axle and a thin, weak, but light axle is only a strict trade-off under the assumption of a solid axle. A hollow axle can weigh much less than a solid axle but have almost all the strength of the solid version. 

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One may question the design assumptions even further. For instance, why is there an axle at all? If you use electric motors, for example, you could have four smaller, independent electric motors and not have any axle. Every wheel could be independent in suspension, direction, and speed. No-one would have designed such a car because no human being is likely capable of operating such a complex vehicle. Now that people are developing self-driving vehicles, such a design might be feasible. 

The axle example illustrates another common limitation of the “versus” mentality. It typically presumes a whole set of assumptions, many of which may not even be stated. To take this example even further, why are you even designing a truck for delivering groceries? How else might groceries go from the farm to the store? What if farms were co-located with grocery stores? What if groceries themselves were unnecessary and people largely grew food on their own roofs, or back yards, or greenhouses? 

house covered with red flowering plant

Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com

For many years, people debated the relative impact of environment versus heredity on various human characteristics such as intelligence. Let us put aside for a moment the considerable problems with the concept of intelligence itself and how it is tested, and focus on the question as to which is more important in determining intelligence: heredity or environment. In this case, the question can be likened to asking whether the length or height of a rectangle is a more important determiner of its area. A rectangle whose length is one mile and whose height is zero will have zero area. Similarly, a rectangle that is a mile high but has zero length will have zero area. Similarly, a child born of two extremely intelligent parents but who is abandoned in the jungle and brought up by wolves or apes will not learn the concepts of society that are necessary to score well on a typical IQ test. At the other extreme, no matter how much you love and cherish and try to educate your dog or cat, they will never score well on a typical IQ test. Length and breadth are both necessary for a rectangle to have area. The right heredity and environment are both necessary for a person to score well on an IQ test. 

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This is so obvious that one has to question why people would even raise the issue. Sadly, the historical answer often points toward racism. Some people wanted to argue that it was pointless to spend significant resources on educating people of color because they were limited in how intelligent they might become because of their heredity. 

Similarly, it seems that in the case of framing dealing with climate change as something that is versus economic growth, the people who frame the issue this way are not simply falling into a poor thinking habit of dichotomous thinking. They are framing as a dichotomy intentionally in order to win political support from people who feel economically vulnerable. If you have lost your job in the steel mill or rubber factory, you may find it easy to be sympathetic to the view that working to stop climate change might be all well and good but it can’t be done because it kills jobs. 

scenic view of mountains

Photo by Zun Zun on Pexels.com

If the planet becomes uninhabitable, how many jobs will be left? Even short of the complete destruction of the ecosphere, the best estimates are that there will be huge economic costs of not dealing with global climate change. These will soon be far larger than costs associated with reducing carbon emissions and reforesting the planet. Much of the human population of the planet lives close to the oceans. As ice melts and sea levels rise, many people will be displaced and large swaths of heavily populated areas will be made uninhabitable. Climate change is also increasing the frequency and severity of weather disasters such as tornados and hurricanes. These cause tremendous and wide-spread damage. They kill people and cause significant economic damage. In addition, there will be more floods and more droughts, both of which negatively impact the economy. Rather than dealing with climate change being something we must do despite the negative impact on the economy, the opposite is closer to the truth. Dealing with climate change is necessary to save the world economy from catastrophic collapse. Oligarchs whose power and wealth depend on non-renewable energy sources are well aware of this. They simply don’t care. They shrug it off. They won’t be alive in another twenty years so they are willing to try to obfuscate the truth by setting up a debate based on a false versus. 

They don’t care. 

Do you? 

—————————-

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We Won the War! We Won the War!

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Cancer Always Loses in the End

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Metaphors We Live and Die By: Part 2

26 Friday Dec 2025

Posted by petersironwood in America, health, management, psychology, Uncategorized

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analogy, cancer, disease, HCI, health, human factors, innovation, metaphor, peace, politics, problem solving, testing, thinking, UX, war

Metaphors We Live and Die By: Part 2

men holding rifle while walking through smoke grenade

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Today, I want to delve further into the topic of metaphors that we often unconsciously adopt. In particular, I want to look at a common metaphor in four areas: disease, business, politics, and and the role of UX in the entire cycle of product development. 

Although I am fascinated by other cultures, my experience is overwhelmingly USA-centric. I am aware that all of the four areas I touch on may be quite different in other countries and cultures. If readers have examples of how different metaphors are used in their culture, I would love to hear about it. 

Disease is an Enemy to be Destroyed 

In most cases, American doctors view disease as an enemy to be destroyed. In fact, this metaphor is so pervasive that American readers are likely puzzled that I used the verb “view” rather than “is” in the previous sentence. In American culture, there is also a strong thread of another metaphor about disease: “Disease is a punishment.” This latter metaphor is behind such statements as, “Oh, they had a heart attack! Oh, my! Were they overweight? Did they smoke?” Perhaps I will consider this more fully another time, but for now, I want to examine the view that disease is an enemy to be destroyed. 

It seems as though it is an apt metaphor. After all, aren’t many diseases caused by other organisms invading our bodies and doing harm? There are many examples: bacteria (Lyme Disease, pneumonia, ulcers, TB, syphilis), viruses (herpes, Chicken Pox, flu, common cold),  protozoa (malaria, toxoplasmosis) or even larger organisms (trichinosis, tapeworms, hookworm). 

male bugs illness disease

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

When it comes to considering causality, our thoughts usually travel along linear chains of causes. So, we may admit that while Lyme disease is “caused by” Borrelia bacteria, the “deer tick” that spreads the disease is also partly at fault. Similarly, although malaria is caused by a protozoa, the most effective prevention is to reduce the mosquito population or to use netting to keep the mosquitos from biting people. Similarly, you might try to prevent Lyme disease by wearing light clothing, using spray to keep the ticks off, checking for ticks after being in tick infested areas, etc. So, even in common practice, we realize that saying that the little organism causes the disease is an over-simplification. 

Once one “gets” a disease, however, the most commonly invoked metaphor is war. We know what the enemy is and we must destroy it! I grant you that is one approach that can be very effective, but consider this. The “human” body contains approximately as many bacterial cells as human cells. What you think of as your “human” body is only half human. It is half bacteria. Furthermore, since we all have trillions of bacteria in us when we are well, the picture of treating bacteria as an enemy to be destroyed is at best an over-simplification. In fact, more recently, medical science seems to indicate that under-exposure to bacteria in childhood can make you more not less susceptible to disease. If you use anti-antibiotics to “destroy” the “enemy” bacteria in your body, many of the “good” bacteria necessary for digestion are also destroyed. This sometimes, though rarely, requires exotic treatment to return to health. 

In cancer, both doctors and the general public mainly think of the cancer cells as “enemies” who must be destroyed. And yet, it seems that people may often have mutations that could lead to cancer but don’t. There are even very rare cases of spontaneous cures of cancer. What are some alternatives to thinking of cancer as an “enemy” that must be destroyed? 

Clearly, I don’t know of a definite answer or you would have already heard about it on the news. But let’s consider a couple alternatives. First, instead of thinking you have to “destroy” this enemy, imagine you thought of cancer cells as confused. People get confused all the time. Sometimes, we put them in jail. Sometimes we put them in mental hospitals. Sometimes, we simply teach them what they need to know. Sometimes, we do end up killing them. But it is not our approach to kill someone just because they make a mistake. So, we might seek a way to “re-educate” cancer cells so that they “realize” that they are part of something even larger and more wonderful – the human body. How would one go about this? Using the metaphor of a confused person, we would have to understand just why they were acting confused. Then we would have to provide situations so that they could learn (or re-learn) what they needed to know in order to become a productive member of “society.” We could “remind” a liver cell that, after all, they were born to be a liver cell and they’re potentially quite good at that. We could think of cancer as cells that are misinformed or have amnesia about their true nature. 

grey metal hammer

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

We might also think along a different line. We could try to discover the best possible environment for these cancer cells to thrive – and then offer it to them somewhere else. For example, perhaps they really prefer an extremely acidic environment. Say you have a skin cancer on the back of your hand that thrives in a really acidic environment. We could provide a gradient of acidity next to the tumor and encourage all those acid-seeking cancer cells to migrate into a really acid tube that is next to the tumor. The farther away it gets from you, the more acidic the environment. 

You might also think of cancer cells as being rebellious. For whatever reason, they “feel” as though they are not experiencing enough of the “good life” being part of your body so they “take matters into their own hands” and begin leading a rebellion of cells out to steal the food supply and multiply in an unrestrained fashion. A solution might be to “convince” them that they are better off retaining their initial function rather than becoming a lawless gang of cells. I am not sure what the best metaphor for thinking about infection or cancer is, but surely it is worth imagining others rather than sticking to just one based on war as a metaphor. 

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Business is a Sport

I treat this at greater length in The Winning Weekend Warrior, but the basic idea is simple. Yes, there are many strategies and tactics from sports that apply to business. But there is at least one crucial difference. Sports are designed to be difficult. They typically require skill and training if you are to do well. The parameters of the sport are fixed at any given time though they will vary somewhat over time. In golf, for instance, the hole is small and the distances are great. Though the rules of golf are complex, there is one over-arching principle. If it would help you to do something, doing that thing is penalized.

woman playing golf during daytime

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

If golf were a business, many CEO’s would nonetheless approach it as a sport. They would try to hire the “best people” – that is, people with a proven track record of good golfing. They would then proceed to offer incentives for people to do even better. If people shot a high score repeatedly, they would be fired. Eventually, such a CEO might get good results by having skilled people who are well motivated and well trained. But why? If putting a golf ball in the hole is what gained you profit, simply shorten the fairways, widen the hole, and eliminate the hazards. Of course, as a sport this would make golf no challenge and no fun. Everyone could win. But having everyone win is exactly what you should do to maximize profit. Yet many in management are so taken with the “business is a sport” metaphor that they do not change the situation. Some do “change he game” and with spectacular results. Google and Amazon come to mind. 

Politics is War 

If you belong to a political party and believe the “other” party or parties are enemies to be destroyed, you are failing to understand the dialectic value that parties with different views can bring to complex situations. Life is a balanced dance between strict replication and structure on the one hand, and variation, exploration, and diversity on the other hand. A species who had no replication of structure from one generation to the next would die off. But so too would a species that had no variation because the slightest change in environment would also cause the species to die off. So it is with human cultures. If every generation had to start from scratch in determining what was edible, how to get along, how to avoid predators and so on, humans would have died out long ago. On the other hand, if a culture were completely unable to evolve and change, they would also die out. Typically, “conservative” parties want to keep things the same for longer and “liberal” parties want to change things more quickly. There is no obvious answer here. But what is vital is that members of each party see that there is value in the debate; in the dialogue; in the dialectic. 

architecture bright building capitol

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The other party is not an enemy; it is the balance so that you can do what you do best. If you are predisposed toward exploration, science, new experiences, and so on, great! On the other hand, if you are more predisposed toward tradition and loyalty and repetition, great! If you did not have the people of the opposite predisposition, you would have to incorporate all that within yourself. Conservatives are what allows liberals to be liberal. And liberals are what allows conservatives to be conservatives. A huge problem arises, as it has recently in American politics, when one party decides they are just “right” all on their own and “victory” is worth lying, cheating, and stealing to get it. This is not unique to contemporary America of course. History is littered with administrations who were so convinced that they were “right” that they wanted to destroy all opposition. It has always ended badly. Politics is not war. (Though the failure of politics often leads to war.)

Of course, if a party really does treat all opposition as enemies to be jailed or executed, that’s no longer a  “party” at all–that’s a gang of thugs. Throughout history, such gangs of thugs have also attempted to discredit and destroy any honest reporting about what the gang is doing and how it affects others.

UX is All that Matters vs. UX Does Not Matter. Development is war!

As you might guess, neither of these extreme positions is useful. Price matters. Time to market matters. Marketing matters. Having good sales people matters. Having excellent service matters. Having a good user experience matters. It all matters. Depending on the situation, various factors matter relatively more or less. 

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(Original artwork by Pierce Morgan)

As in the case of political ideologies, it is just fine for UX folks to push for the resources to understand users more deeply; to test interaction paradigms more thoroughly; to collect and observe from more and more users under a wider variety of circumstances. Similarly, while you are pushing for all that and doing your best to argue your case, remember that the other people who are pushing for tighter deadlines, and more superficial testing are not evil; they simply have different perspectives, payoffs, and responsibilities. Naturally, I hope the developers and financial people do not view UX folks as simply “roadblocks” to getting the product out quickly and cheaply either. 

The first half of 2018, I tried to catalog many of the “best practices” in collaboration and teamwork. You might find some of these useful if you are embroiled in “UX wars.” You and your colleagues from other disciplines might also find it useful to consider that it is worth taking the time to affirm your common purpose and common ground. You are meant to work together. Development is not war. 

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Cancer Always Loses in the End

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

At Least he’s Our Monster

The Loud Defense of Untenable Positions

Essay on America: The Game

A Day From Hell

An Open Sore

All we Stand to Lose

Somewhere a Bird Cries

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Ailing King of Agitate

After All

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Dance of Billions

 

  

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