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Many Shiny Things

13 Thursday Feb 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, family, management, politics, Uncategorized

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leadership, legends, myths, peace, stories, tales, truth, war, weapons

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The days continued to grow longer. The herbs and dyes had been collected and prepared. Masks had been constructed for everyone in the tribe old enough to talk and walk. Many Paths, after consulting with everyone, had decided that all of the Veritas, and not just the young adults would be initiated into the ways of the warrior. Although kids had sometimes imitated the actions of their older brothers and sisters and engaged in mock combat, now the Veritas faced an enemy who stole children. If such children were snatched, it was important that they be able to fight, in order to delay capture, and to maim or injure the attackers. They must also be able to lie in wait patiently and be able to strike after capture; to see when the opportunity arose; and then to strike in such a way that they had little chance of being blamed. 

Jaccim had confirmed that the Z-Lotz greatly preferred to steal children. Kids could be trained early to be docile slaves. Occasionally, attractive full-grown women would be stolen as well but they tended to be less docile and therefore less desirable to the Z-Lotz. Many Paths had already performed the molting ritual on Tu-Swift and he had worked with Sooz and Cat Eyes to teach the youngsters of the tribe to fight. This training had been mostly about perception and reaction. Now, the training would turn more serious and young children were about to be taught about weapons, hand combat, and about poisons and imagination. 

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Many Paths wanted the children to be initiated and wear make up and masks so that when and if the Veritas found themselves once more at peace, they could remove these masks and make up and that removal of the outward trappings of war would hopefully help also remove the killing mindset that she meant to inculcate into everyone in the tribe. 

A great feast of wild boar, honeyed grain-cakes, roasted nuts, and boiled cattail had been laid out in the late afternoon. After the feast, the Veritas came to Many Paths one by one, oldest to youngest and stood before her. She handed each one a mask and anointed each with two dark marks of charcoal on their cheeks. The masks resembled various animals and were worn on the back of the head or, more rarely, on the side of the head. They were not meant to disguise the person’s face. Instead, the masks were intended to confuse the enemy about the orientation of the Veritas warrior so that killing blows would tend to arise from unsuspected places. 

The Veritas came to her in order from oldest to youngest. Though Many Paths followed tradition in this, she could see the wisdom of that tradition. The youngest would have seen many models of how to behave from the elders and then the adults and then their older brothers and sisters. She felt and displayed a fittingly somber mood for the business at hand weighed heavily upon her. And though she intoned the ritual words with feeling, at the same time, half of her mind began to mull on the situation that required turning the people to killing. She heartily wished that the world had not turned so ugly and warlike. Yet, those wishes had no impact on reality. Many Paths did promise herself that she would continue to remind people of the lessons learned from The Battle of the Three Paths. 

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In that battle, NUT-PI had arranged three armies to fight against the Veritas. Two of those armies had instead become friends. Peace proved to be a very strong weapon. Many Paths would come to caution the Veritas not to become so enamored of weapons that they overlooked the possible paths to peace. Though she believed this, Many Paths also recognized that the alliances between the Cupiditas and the Nomads of the South and between the Cupiditas and the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North were both tenuous and temporary. They did not have a preponderance of true common interests. This had made rational dialogue possible. The “loyalty” of these tribes to NUT-PI was nothing more than a temporary convenience, fairly easily overcome by showing them the lies of NUT-PI and a path to a more permanent self-interest. Also, no blood had yet been spilled. Once blood had been spilled on both sides, talk of peace could easily be shouted out by the drums of war that banged in the heart of every warrior amplified by sorrow, fear, and anger. Many Paths reminded herself that she needed to have a frank talk with Lion Slayer about whether any from among the Nomads of the South would choose to fight with the Veritas. 

She decided to wait a few more days for such a conversation and to include his mate, Hudah Salah, as well. When they had first arrived to spend a year with the Veritas, she had seemed unwilling to say much and agreed with her husband on every point. Something had changed however. Many Paths thought there were three reasons. First, she had become much more familiar with the Veritas language. Second, she had many actual friends now among the Veritas. When she arrived, she only knew her husband, Fleet of Foot and Eagle Eyes. Now, she knew everyone in the tribe and everyone knew her. Third, the great fire had separated her for a time from her husband and she had to survive without him, without knowing whether he was alive or dead. Many Paths judged that his deepened their love but also grew her independence. Many Paths also thought that Lion Slayer would be more likely to imagine everyone among the Nomads of the South would feel however he felt. Hudah Salah, would be more in tune with the heart of the entire tribe. She would not unthinkingly imagine that all of them would be as eager or reluctant to join in a lethal fight as she herself was. 

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The “coming to war” ritual ended with a long, energetic dance. This served to burn off some of the nervous energy that naturally arose from everyone in the tribe preparing for war. It also served to remind each person among the Veritas that they were part of a larger whole. Everyone participated including Many Paths and She Who Saves Many Lives. Though the latter was not so quick as she had once been, she moved with a grace and beauty that caused many in the tribe to smile. Long energetic dances also served as a training for long marches or fierce battles. Everyone took note of everyone else so they came to expect the tempo and style of everyone else in the tribe. This, Many Paths realized, could be quite helpful in coordinated group action. Everyone could see, for example, that Shadow Walker’s ankle was completely healed while Tu-Swift had still not recovered his former speed. A lot of information was exchanged about individuals at the same time that each individual felt more integrated into the whole. It occurred to Many Paths that some such a dance should be repeated with whomever joined in the Veritas endeavor, whether the Veritas who lived beyond the Twin Mountains or the Nomads of the South. The dance also tended to physically exhaust everyone and, as a steady wind bends the long grass, it would bend everyone toward much needed sleep rather than useless worry. 

The next day began bright and clear. She met early with Tu-Swift, Eagle Eyes, Cat Eyes, Sooz, and Shadow Walker. She began by describing her experiment with reflections that had caused a twig to burst into flames. Using the Rings of Empathy and many pieces of mica, she arranged the reflections so that they all focused on a small dried twig. Again, it seemed as though nothing was happening when suddenly the twig burst into flames. Salah Hudah had been weaving nearby, not participating in the conversation. But when she saw the twig burst into flames, she exclaimed something aloud in her native tongue. She walked over to the group and spoke in Veritas nearly as well as those who were born Veritas might. 

“These things,” she gestured around at the rings and mica, “are all shiny. Very shiny. We have in our land some shiny things as well. There is a shiny black stone which can be polished so much that you can see yourself as if looking in a clear, calm, lake. We call it ‘OB-ESS-DIAN.” And, there is another thing on the edge of the deep desert lands where no-one goes. It is also shiny. Very shiny. We polish it. We shape it. But it is evil. We call it GLAZ. Those who touch it get burned. We only discovered a few winters ago. We thought to make jewelry or … a kind of pond to look at yourself. I think it could be useful weapon this way too. But dangerous. It burns the hands as though you were too long in the sun. But it is not hot.”  

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Many Paths thanked Salah Hudah and contemplated once again how much better it was to have made friends with the Nomads of the South rather than fighting them. She vowed to try to find such a way even with the People Who Steal Children. But such people killed with no honor. With Killing Sticks. How could peace come about? It was a puzzle: an important one, but seemingly unsolvable. 

Tu-Swift brought out his sword and moved it about. “This is very shiny too. As is Shadow Walker’s. I think…here’s let’s try making both of them shine onto a twig.” Shadow Walker worked with Tu-Swift and they reflected the sunbeams from their sword onto another dry twig. It did not burst into flames. They waited. At last, Cat Eyes stretched forth her hand and gingerly touched the twig.

“It’s warmer than just the sun would do, but not warm enough to burst into flame. But something else might work very well. In the village of the Z-Lotz, many of the richest families have such a portable pond looker as Salah Hudah described. But no-one I heard of got burned from it. So, perhaps it is made of something different. I don’t know.” 

“Thank you, Cat Eyes. How many of these portable lookers are there in the whole of the  Z-Lotz village?” 

Cat Eyes sighed. “I was there as a slave. So, I was unable to go wherever I liked. There are many people. Sometimes, I visited other houses. All of them had such things. But I seldom went to small houses. I would say, these many. But I really don’t know.” Cat Eyes held up both hands ten times; each time, all fingers were splayed out. “One hundred.” 

Many Paths nodded. “One hundred. Yet, so few as ten pieces of mica, and seven shiny stones can make a dry piece of wood burst into flame. Imagine what one hundred shiny things might do if all the many paths of light come together at one time and place.” 

Shadow Walker said, “That, I think, would be very hot indeed. However, we don’t own those possible weapons. I don’t see how we can get them. But what of the shiny things of the Nomads of the South? How many of those are there, Salah?” 

“Of the black OB-ESS-DIAN, there are many. Ten times ten. Of the clear ones… there may be one or two, but to my knowledge, once people realized they caused burns, no-one wanted them. People gave them back to the deep desert.”

The group thought about that for a time. Presently, Tu-Swift said, “I don’t understand. Why don’t they just use a long handle or many layers of cloth to protect their hands? Surely, you tried this, Salah?” 

“Tu-Swift, you speak true. People did try this. We sometimes make even stones by hardening mud in fire. They become quite hard. But when they are first made by such hot fire, the stones themselves are too hot to touch. However, we take them out of the oven with large mittens made of many layers. People’s hands do not get burned. But there is something different about GLAZ. Many layers of cloth do not prevent burns though the GLAZ is not itself hot! It seems magic but evil. That’s why we returned it to the deep desert where no-one goes.”  

Cat Eyes began to speak. “Fire ants feel like burning when they bite you. But they are not themselves hot. Their tiny side teeth pierce your skin. Perhaps such ants are made of the same stuff as the GLAZ at the edge of the desert.”

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Salah Hudah nodded. “Perhaps. We know also of these fire ants. They sting. They feel hot. But people recover. The burns of GLAZ do not get better. More moons, more pain. They are something from a world of evil. I think the people, my people,…maybe they lend you or trade you for OB-ESS-DIAN. But all this to set a fire? Isn’t it easier to use fire arrows?” 

Shadow Walker spoke next. “We should not forget what happened to the ROI. They used fire arrows against us twice. The first time, they surprised us. It helped them steal Tu-Swift. But the second time, they tried to destroy us, and they succeeded in destroying their own village and many of their people. According to Jaccim, the ROI were led by a cruel lying leader, and then, so far as we can tell, he was killed himself. I don’t much like fire arrows. But it’s better to use them than to become enslaved.” 

Tu-swift added thoughtfully, “Perhaps we can get the Z-Lotz themselves to destroy their leader. He seems very cruel.” 

Cat Eyes scrunched her face up and chewed her lips. “Perhaps. The people I stayed with, the richest among the Z-Lotz privately scoffed at NUT-PI — just as they did about their beliefs — but, because they are rich, they like having NUT-PI as a leader, if you can call him that. No doubt, there are man people in the village of the Z-Lotz who would like to have NUT-PI gone, but I’m not sure they are prosperous enough to have — I think they are called ‘looking glasses.’ Does that make sense? I think only the rich people like them.”

Many Paths nodded. “I’m not sure. If it is as you say, then the rich would have to have very good reason to use this weapon of many looking glasses against NUT-PI. But there could be other ways to bring many weapons to bear through many paths. For instance, arrows, even if not fire arrows, could be fired from many directions at once. Rocks could be thrown from many directions. Small amounts of many poisons might be given. And, maybe we could use mica and jewels to make many reflections to heat up … to heat up a Killing Stick until it catches fire. Or, perhaps, we could even use the killing GLAZ. If NUT-PI thought it was very rare, and very precious, he might desire much of it. If he surrounds himself with such GLAZ, he might get quite sick and not know why.” 

Eagle Eyes had been fairly silent and now began to draw a map of sorts in the dirt. “All of these weapons we are discussing converge from many paths on to one place; for example, NUT-PI. But if we were to kill the Z-Lotz leader, wouldn’t they simply pick a new leader?”

Many Paths said, “It might take them some time. As I best understand it, if one of the Cupiditas kills the leader, then that person becomes the new leader. I don’t know about the Z-Lotz though. If they do the same, it might be confusing if many people at once killed the old leader. Who would get to be the new leader?” 

Cat Eyes said, “I am not sure, but I think the Z-Lotz might do something similar. It might be confusing for them if many people together killed their leader. He is a very loud screamer, but I don’t think he’s very brave. I’m not sure why I think that. Anyway, he’s not very athletic. He looks nothing like Shadow Walker or Trunk of Tree, for instance.” She smiled at Tu-Swift. “Honestly, Tu-Swift, in a fair fight, I think you could take him. But I don’t think a fair fight is of any interest to him.” 

Tu-Swift blushed. “I would love to do that if he’s behind the stealing of children.” 

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Many Paths spoke again. “We have many ideas. Which path proves most fruitful though will remain a mystery until we find out more. I think that the construction of a good weapon that will be effective depends on knowing more. We need to find out more. How are their walls constructed? Can we tunnel under them to sneak in? Can we dig under them to cause collapse? Are the walls too high to fire arrows over? Rocks? Should we attack with many? Or, should we sneak in a few? Can we steal enough of these looking glasses to make a weapon? Can we steal their killing sticks? More swords? Can we sabotage their bows and arrows as Tu-Swift did to the ROI? And, how can we use our horses? Will they join us in this fight?” 

Shadow Walker took a deep breath, “Many, I think I should go visit these Z-Lotz. Maybe I could trade with them and get some Killing Sticks in this way. We have many fine and beautiful baskets. And, Salah Hudah, do you think these shiny things that cause burns can be recovered or — ?”

Salah Hudah shook her head violently. “I don’t think you should touch them. I don’t think you’ll find them — at least not easily. Our people just wanted to get rid of them. They are covered up now with shifting of many sands. But they burn without warning. And worse. One woman who especially liked these. She was very beautiful. She had many suitors who brought her such as treasures. She paid much. She became something else. Her body began to grow like mushrooms. No longer beautiful. And, she was sick in every way. And died. That is what triggered everyone to throw them out.” 

“I should go with you,” volunteered Eagle Eyes. I can see danger before danger sees us. And I have been there before. “What of you, Cat Eyes? You know this place better than anyone else? Will you come too?” 

Cat Eyes nodded. “I will go. I like this place much better! Much better! But perhaps it would be well for me to go first to my people. Some may recognize me. I may recognize them. I can be…I can be like a pair of logs over the brook and allow others to cross. Perhaps the Veritas over the Twin Mountains will have other weapons or other knowledge. Then, we can decide what to do about the Z-Lotz. It is also possible they might leave us alone?” 

“I hope that,” said Many Paths. “Why must people steal children? But I don’t think they will leave us alone. I do not think they will leave the Nomads of the South alone either. Nor, the Fierce and Formidable Warriors of the North. Nor anyone who simply wants to live in peace. If I thought otherwise, we would not have all sworn to the way of the warrior. But that does not mean we must attack at once. More knowledge would be good. Let us first try to reach the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks. Jaccim knows how to find a path there, so he thinks. 

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“Meanwhile, we will grow stronger and faster and learn the skills of killing in case we need such skills. We will continue to train even the smallest among us so that if any such are captured, they will be weapons; unsuspected weapons like Cat Eyes.” 

Now, Eagle Eyes spoke, “You are wise, Many Paths. I have a thought though about yet another weapon.” 

“We have trained a few from among the Wolf Pups. And, we have trained few from among the Eagles. What if … you know that I can draw a likeness of any of you and that you will know who that likeness is. Eagles have eyes even better than ours. I am wondering whether it is not possible … perhaps if I can see the Z-Lotz leader, I can teach my eagles, and more eagles besides, to attack this hateful man and pluck his eyes out. Could it be possible? I don’t know. And for Wolves the same. Except they do not see as well as do we ourselves. But each person smells different. If someone can steal some of his clothing, perhaps such pups could be trained to attack and kill something that smells of him.”

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Many Paths smiled at her friend. For the first time since she found out about the Killing Sticks, she felt confident that there was a way to prevail against such a weapon and that they would find it. And use it. “Those are excellent ideas, Eagle Eyes.” 

Everyone in the group nodded. 

Many Paths spoke again, and her voice sounded clear and confident, “I promise you, we will not rest until we find a lasting and believable peace with these Z-Lotz. Or, we will destroy their leader. If that doesn’t stop them from stealing children, we will destroy the next leader. And the next. At last, everyone shall also be destroyed and all of their Killing Sticks — until they stop stealing children.” 

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———————————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

    

Many Paths for Many Weapons

06 Thursday Feb 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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legends, myths, stories, strategy, tales, war

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In the Center Place of the Veritas, it happened throughout her life that Many Paths daily crossed the path of She Who Saves Many Lives. Lately, however, She Who Saves Many Lives had turned more often to the outskirts of the Center Place, dialoguing with the burbling brook, or watching for wildlife. So, after waiting for an accidental encounter for a few days, Many Paths decided to find the Elder intentionally to get her advice. As Many Paths approached the cabin of the former leader, she could already sense that the cabin was empty. It “sounded” empty and it … seemed … empty. Many Paths looked at the sky, and a path appeared before her mind as to the one most harmonious to all her causes. So she took it. 

The day had broken hot and grown hotter. As soon as Many Paths ducked under the overhanging branches and entered the shaded outer woods, she felt the coolness like a drink of clear cold water. The deer flies immediately sensed her presence, but she, like most of the Veritas prepared herself for summer by using leaf tinctures of eucalyptus, thyme, lavender, and pepper. 

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Many Paths noticed that somehow, the flies sensed she was there and were attracted to her and yet…when they got near, instead of alighting and biting, they hovered and took off. Perhaps, there are ways to induce the Z-Lotz to wear perfumes or clothing that attracts insects such as wasps or ants or deer flies. Maybe we could make something that attracts the Z-Lotz thinking that we are “prey” but then, as they get closer, a different set of circumstances makes them think that we are not “prey” at all, but something quite dangerous, or disgusting, or unworthy of any attention at all. 

Many Paths emerged onto the grassy embankment alongside a brook which was bubbling its song to the world. She recognized the back of She Who Saves Many Lives, sitting silently on a fallen cottonwood trunk. Many Paths pondered seeing how close she could come to the older woman. It was a game they had played all their lives, but then, before taking a step, she decided against it. Maybe she would startle the older lady too much.

Without turning around, She Who Saves Many Lives spoke in her loud clear voice, “Well met, Many Paths. Come, come sit beside me.” She Who Saves Many Lives patted the dry, but mossy stump. “And don’t worry. If you sneak up behind me some day and scare me to my death, it was surely my time to become a more disbursed part of the great tree of life. You will have done me a great favor. I will at that last moment know you played a joke, and that you have truly mastered your skills as one who moves with the wind. And I will see the joke and the growth and know that I die with a friend who is a wonderful leader to our people. Is there a better death? I can think of none.” She Who Saves Many Lives smiled warmly and continued,  “But that time has not yet come. Now, Many Paths, about what did you wish to speak?”

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“As you know, She Who Saves Many Lives, we have various groups working on various problems and I am myself, leading the group to think of new weapons.” Many Paths sighed. “I am seeing weapons everywhere! Even walking here. Anywhere.” 

The Elder looked kindly at Many Paths and took hold of her hands. “It sounds to me as though you’re doing a good job. And, I know you have a great imagination. Yet, there is a problem?” 

“I’m afraid of what I may become if I see everything in terms of how it can maim, kill, or protect. And even when — yesterday, I looked at the afternoon rainbow and tried to find a way to use it as a weapon. And I could not. Which I found frustrating. And, it made me not even like the rainbow! It’s beautiful! Shouldn’t that be enough? I don’t want to be a person who fails to see beauty. And, neither do I think it’s good for the tribe.”

She Who Saves Many Lives waited, as she knew good friends or good leaders often will have to do.

Many Paths continued. “Yesterday, I took a walk with the Wolf Pubs and Shadow Walker. His ankle is fine now, but the way. Tu-Swift still has difficulties. We saw Stone Chipper with his son, Sees Horses. And the father showed me some very interesting rocks he had happened upon. He called it ‘mica’ and said he had never seen anything like it before. He showed some to us. It was … you could break this rock into very thin slices. They were so thin you could see right through the rock! It reminded me most of fish scales. Everyone was excited — I swear, even the wolf pups, though they were probably sensing our excitement. I immediately asked if it could be used for arrowheads. He said no, the material was very weak and to show me, he crumbled some in his fingers. Quite easily.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives waited. At last, as good friends and good leaders often will have to do, she prompted, “So you lost interest in the material?”

“No. That would have been bad enough, but I got more interested in the material. Because making arrowheads is something we’ve been doing for generations and generations. But making a weapon with mica !! Now that would be something. It’s shiny. You can see through it! It’s weak, but light in weight. How do we use all that to make a weapon from it? That’s the question that my mind has been pre-occupied with ever since. But I cannot turn this mind for more than a moment to the question of how we might use mica in decoration or clothing or shelter. Though, by the way, it could keep the wind out yet let much light through. Most of my thoughts have been about how to use it as a weapon. And as I talked aloud, since I’m the leader, everyone else’s excitement … abated. Even the excitement of Shadow Walker. When he first saw this mica he was fascinated by it. Since it breaks easily yet feels hard, I wonder if one might build a bridge that every Veritas knows not to use.” The voice of Many Paths grew louder now with each word. “Because once you step out over the chasm it breaks into crumbs and you plummet to rocky bone-breaking death. Which, by the way, you deserve, because you stole my brother!”

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Many Paths had let go of the hands of She Who Saves Many Lives and now she stood, trembling with rage. Her voice became grim. “I will find every kind of weapon for these people. But what will it do to the tribe to make such weapons that … weapons that our enemies do not even see as weapons — poison disguised as food; traps disguised as steps; stones falling off buildings; air that kills; clothing that catches fire; it doesn’t end.” Many Paths took out the string upon which she had strung all seven rings of empathy. She sat now on a sandy patch near an old campfire, not far from She Who Saves Many Lives. “You gave me these rings of empathy and now…if I am to find weapons, will they not just get in the way? I mean won’t empathy get in the way?” She took the rings off her string and laid them out in a semi-circle in front of her. She arranged them distractedly. The sun was high and if she tilted the rings the proper way, each of them reflected light strongly in one direction. She played with tilting them so that the rays flitted across the face of a nearby reflector rock. 

She Who Saved Many Lives looked on. “You know in your heart that I did not give you the rings of empathy. You earned them. I didn’t play favorites. I think you are right to be concerned. Thinking about creative ways to harm or kill others is not something good for the soul. But you have such a good mind for thinking of weapons. Sometimes, of course, weapons have other uses, but that seems more like a rationalization, not a rationale. I think you are right though. At least until we find out more about the Killing Sticks, you need to think of all the ways to kill these People Who Steal Other People’s Children must not be allowed to keep stealing and killing or my prophesy dream may indeed come true. The Veritas could be wiped out. We know what happened as a result of the Orange Man, a whole tribe wiped out. We don’t want that, clearly.”  

Many Paths listened intently, not only because this was the way of the Veritas, but also because she was genuinely interested in the Elder’s thoughts. Nonetheless, Many Paths kept toying with the rings. She also recalled that she had put several pieces of mica into her tinder pouch, hoping that the cottony milkweed and dandelion seeds and cat-tail pollen would cushion the mica slices sufficiently to keep them whole. She was delighted to find they reflected spots onto the reflector wall as well and she wiggled them into the sand. 

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“Thank you for listening, Wise One. It feels good to be warming in the sunlight. It also feels good to listen to the light of your wisdom.” Many Paths did feel better, though nothing had really been yet resolved. “I’m warmer in the light of the sun. I’m warmer in the light of the sun.” 

“Yes, most of us are, Many Paths.” 

Many Paths stood up and grabbed a nearby twig. She set it up in the sand, like a tiny tree. “I’m warmer in the sun. I’m warmer in the sun.” Many Paths muttered this a few more times as she adjusted the rings and the mica slices so that they all beamed the reflected light onto the twig. As more reflections were added, it became more difficult to align them, that is, to tell where each reflection was. She found that if she started with the reflection above the nexus and slowly lowered it, she could put it right atop the others. It was clearly much brighter than a twig simply sitting in the sun. She felt sure that it was also warmer. She began to cautiously stretch her hand forward to see whether it had been warmed so quickly when the twig burst into flames. Many Paths jumped back. 

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Many Paths looked over at the astonished Elder and winked. “Everything is warmer in the sun. Perhaps I will rename myself ‘Many Weapons.’ Perhaps these Rings of Empathy really are more powerful than I was … led to believe.” 

“Many Paths, the power is in your mind. Now, as for the other, I can perform a ritual for you. And this is what I propose. So long as you are in the role of looking for weapons to use against the People Who Steal Children, I will paint your forehead and your cheeks with this blue war paint. You will be called “Many Paths for Many Weapons.” 

When we win and the Z-Lotz are no longer a threat, then I will remove your warpaint and we will simply call you “Many Paths” again. 

Many Paths looked at the wise smiling eyes of She Who Saves Many Lives. She nodded her head and saw the wisdom of formally recognizing a special role so that Many Paths would not confuse her natural bent with what she could accomplish. But she also vowed to try to think about how to make the Veritas stronger, healthier, and wiser in numerous ways. Among those ways would be using weapons but also learning how to create weapons out of anything. If they were in a battle; if they were — if they were captured. Look what Tu-Swift had done, she thought. “She Who Saves Many Lives, I have one more question to ask you. Do you think it appropriate to have a ceremony of a similar sort for Tu-Swift? He was able to wreak havoc amongst the ROI, even as an unarmed child. But, I have the same worry that I have for me and he is much younger.” 

“I don’t think working on how to defend himself would be more traumatic than having been stolen from the feast and thrown into a cage. Just as you feel you want to do something in your defense, and possibly for revenge, so too does he. But yes. He should be anointed anew until you defeat the Z-Lotz. However, you should be the one to anoint him. You are the leader now. I will only anoint you because anointing yourself is … it is not something seemly for any real leader ever to do. Your power, of course, should be … how on earth did you get that twig to burst into flames? That is not something I foresaw in the making of the rings. I did not know that they had that power.”

Many Paths said quietly. “The power of empathy is allowing each to know the heart of each. And, when that is truly done, then, the power of the rings is that all may be focused on defeating one. What is not even a weapon at all — such as a nice warming sun — can become a weapon when there are many working together.” 

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Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration    

Table of Contents: Myths of the Veritas (2)

04 Saturday Jan 2020

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

≈ 46 Comments

Tags

empathy, ethics, leadership, legend, mercy, myth, peace, story, tale, war

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Happy New Year!

Book Two of The Myths of the Veritas began on February 27th, 2019 and ended with the last post on December 31, 2019. Below is an index to all the chapters of Book Two.

Myths of the Veritas: Feast and Fire (At a feast, the Veritas are attacked by the ROI who used fire arrows.)

On Horses?   (The Veritas discover that Tu-Swift,  the younger brother of Many Paths, is kidnapped by “The People who Stand on Horses” – that is, the ROI Tribe.)

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Myths of the Veritas: The ROI (Introduction to the ROI Tribe).

Myths of the Veritas: The Z-Lotz  (Introduction to the Z-Lotz tribe).

Tu-Swift in a Cage (This chapter depicts the imprisonment of Tu-Swift.

Many Paths Constructs her Way (Many Paths struggles with her duties as a leader of all the Veritas and her duties as the older brother of Tu–Swift).

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

Many Paths Becomes Clear (Many Paths, in consultation with others, determines to send a search party).

The Horse Whisperer (Tu-Swift is pressed into service training horses).

Search Party. (The adventures of the small search party sent to find Tu-Swift).

Dialogue and Discovery. (Many Paths leads a dialogue of discovery to reflect on what everyone collectively knows and what more they have yet to know).

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Original art by Pierce Morgan

The Bonds of Horses and Humans. (Tu-Swift learns more about horses).

The No-Rock Rock and the No-Door Door. (Shadow Walker & the Search Party are Stymied by a seemingly impossible door).

The Alliance of the ROI & the Z-Lotz. (Background on the relation of the ROI & Z-Lotz tribes).

Trees Die at the Edges. (Tu-Swift reconnoiters his surroundings).

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Original drawing by Pierce Morgan

The Drums of Hooves, Humans, & Hearts. (The Search Party Follows the Easy-to-Track Trail of the ROI).

The Path not Taken. (Many Paths Receives an Unwelcome Offer).

Tu-Swift’s Dream (Tu-Swift’s Dream)

Unstrung Bow (Tu-Swift Manages to Disable some of the Bows of the ROI).

Fire Arrows (The Search Party is Attacked by the ROI using Fire Arrows).

Finger-Pointing (The ROI Ask themselves who is to Blame).

Post-Fire Blues (The ROI React to their Situation).

Too Many Tu-Swifts (Another Dream of Tu-Swift’s)

BRA-BRILL’s Audience (BRA-BRILL finds trouble with NUT-PI).

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Drawing by Pierce Morgan

Slow Tu-Swift (Tu-Swift is injured)

The Ashes of ROI 

Shadow Walker’s Shadow Walking (Shadow Walker returns to the Camp of the ROI alone)

Eagle Eyes Eyes an Eagle (After the Search Party becomes Separated, Eagle Eyes Spots one of the Eagles she Trained).

Tu-Swift’s Vengeance (Tu-Swift has the Opportunity for Vengeance on his Captors).

The Doors of Mystery (Some of the Search Party Return to the Odd Door Encountered Earlier).

Many Pains for Many Paths (Further Attempts to Undermine the Leadership of Many Paths)

Myths of the Veritas: Killing Sticks (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Witness Killings at the Great City of the Z-Lotz)

The Eyes of the Cat (Shadow Walker & Tu-Swift Meet some of the ROI)

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Cats Eyes Shows her Gift (Cats Eyes Shares a Gift).

Tu-Swift Dreams of Drums (… and the Dream is Real!)

A Wild Ride (In a Log Flume)

Is there Honor in Killing Sticks? (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Dialog about what they have seen).

The Illness that’s Everywhere (She Who Saves Many Lives shares with Many Paths).

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When Eagles Return (Many Paths Receives a Message from Eagle Eyes)

A Small Snippet of Cloth  (Many Paths Learns much from a Small Snippet of Cloth)

The Truth about Clouds and Gods (Eagle Eyes & Lion Slayer Continue their Homeward Journey)

Lion Slayer & Eagle Eyes Return (They continue their journey to the Center Place of the Veritas)

Mapping Out the Road Home (Shadow Walker, Tu-Swift and others Seek the Veritas)

Solomon’s Seal (Cat Eyes Prepares a Meal on the Journey)

Eagle Eyes Returns (At last, Many Path’s friend Eagle Eyes, along with Lion Slayer, return)

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Eagle Eyes Tells her Tale (Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer Recount their Witness of Killing Sticks).

Killing Sticks Dialogue (The Veritas Dialogue about Killing Sticks)

Skipping Stones (Trunk of Tree Confronts Many Paths; Shadow Walker & Tu-Swift Return; End of Book Two).

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Author Page on Amazon

Dialog: Killing Sticks

29 Sunday Dec 2019

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

≈ 1 Comment

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civility, debate, dialogue, discussion, legends, myth, peace, Second Amendment, story, tales, war, weapons

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Original art by Pierce Morgan

As was traditional among the Veritas, before beginning the delving into such a troublesome topic as how to make sense of killing sticks, they sang their songs of the origins of the Veritas. They sang a song about their daily life and another about the dangers of greed and lying (taken from their story, “The Orange Man.”) Lastly, the ended with a song about the forgotten fields. 

These elements were traditional, but Many Paths opted to push their common ground even further because she knew this could be a very divisive topic. She intuited this partly from overhearing snippets of conversations as she passed by. She saw the puzzlement and concern on everyone’s face now. And, she reckoned that the idea of a weapon that kills so quickly quite reasonably caused much anxiety. When people were anxious they often shied away from the truth and from exploring many paths before running down one. She didn’t expect everyone to think of as many branches as she did, but she hoped they wouldn’t sprint thoughtlessly down the first path they spied. 

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“If you will indulge me, I would like us to recount for a few moments, our successes in the Battle of the Three Forks. I do this for two reasons. I recount this victory because it will remind us of our ability to work together and our creativity because in that battle, we used many weapons that some among us invented. Eagle Eyes, as you may recall, invented the slippery slope after watching the ant lion; she also trained the Eagle to protect her and found a way to divert the river. And what was our greatest weapon of all?” 

“Arrows well-aimed.” someone shouted. 

“Well, those are vital and we have some exceptionally good archers here.” In the mental screen of Many Paths, the image of Shadow Walker drawing a bow sprang to mind. She missed him all the time in the form of a dull ache, but seeing him so vividly in her mind’s eye sharpened the pain as a hot pepper may do to a toothache. She drew a curtain over that image and continued. “I suspect our greatest weapons were being patient and trying to understand our enemies. As a result, two of those so-called enemies were not even actual enemies. In the case of the Nomads of the South, we have formed friendships and exchanged goods to both of our benefits. I recount this tale because it is natural to fear a new weapon that we do not understand. It is wise to dialogue this. Let us do so thinking with our whole brain. Do not become panicked. We have long survived and we will survive long after. So — open your hearts and open your minds. What do we make of these killing sticks?” 

Trunk of Tree, being Trunk of Tree, immediately took a stand against the legitimacy of the question. “Before we go any further, I’d like to say our first step should be to verify this rather preposterous story with another witness.” 

“You do have another witness,” said Lion Slayer. “Me. I was there as well. We both saw and heard the same things. We surely were not struck by the same hallucination at the same time.”

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“There might be many ways for an illusion to occur. I do not fault you, but I am willing to lead another expedition to observe — and even steal this killing stick.” 

Lion Slayer slowly shook his head. “ I do agree, that it would be good to find out more, but it will take at least a week. And, once you are there…it is huge beyond your imaginings. In fact, we would have been captured several times except that, Eagle Eyes really is just that. But there are at least 100 times as many people there as we have Veritas. We saw what we saw and we came back here without being seen or caught. 

Eagle Eyes spoke up, “Lion Slayer’s right.” If you went back again to get an unnecessary verification, that person could be caught. That is not only a danger to the brave persons who would attempt to witness another such use; it is a danger to the whole tribe. If such a one were seen, these Z-Lotz would know that we know about these killing sticks. This may well hasten an attack as they would wish to do so before we learn how to make such weapons or defend against them. And, if such a one were caught, they would surely be tortured for information. Perhaps they would successfully resist or mislead but if they have a weapon such as this, who knows what kinds of torture they might have?”

In the Veritas form of dialogue, it was not necessary, particularly at the beginning to answer point with counterpoint. People just shared their thoughts and experiences. The Veritas actually listened to all of those who had spoken so far. There was a silence as the sun set in violent crimson and the roaring fire began to look brighter with the setting sun. 

Hudah Salem said, “I say to you that the Nomads of the south also think it good that we did not fight. It was not our fight. This now, we know more about the Z-Lotz and Nut-Pi. This now, we are happier still not to fight you.” 

Many Paths nodded. “So far, the strongest weapon we have found is not a weapon at all, but finding common cause so as not to fight at all.” 

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Trunk of Tree spoke again, “But imagine that the Nomads of the South had had such killing sticks, assuming they do exist. They may have been less reluctant to kill if it were so easy and so risk-free for them.”

A long silence ensued. The Veritas tried to imagine how having — or not having — an easier, more risk-free way to kill might or might not influence their actions and decisions. 

At last, Many Paths spoke. She realized that Trunk of Tree was likely using the dialogue as a way to demonstrate his wisdom and power. Nonetheless, it was more important, so she thought at the time, to seek the truth. “I believe you may be correct, Trunk of Tree. I would add that how much such killing sticks would encourage or deter going to war would depend on how a particular tribe thinks about life and how they reward their warriors and on what basis. All of these considerations must also be in our calculations as well. Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer, I have a question, perhaps on the minds of many. In this meeting you witnessed, suppose that the leader of the Z-Lotz had not had a weapon of any kind. Would he have prevailed over these other men in any case?

Lion Slayer shook his head. “We cannot tell. We did not get a good look. Neither man seemed particularly — neither of them looked like Trunk of Tree. The one called Nut-Pi was a slight man, not young, but neither was he old. The first two he killed looked to be able-bodied warriors. The last man killed, the one he tortured, was portly. In a fight without weapons — who knows? We could not judge their skills.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke next. “As Lion Slayer said, we did not have a chance to see the war skills of either. I can say with certainty that both Nut-Pi and the man we think was leader of the People who Steal Children were cowards. Neither one was a brave as our warriors.” 

Trunk of Tree questioned this as well. “How can you say this? You do not know.”

Eagle Eyes replied, “It is true. I do not know for certain. However, the Z-Lotz leader, Nut-Pi, though he had a killing stick, had numerous guards around him to face these unarmed persons. He used a weapon which easily and immediately killed two men. And yet, he did not use it just once but many times on his last victim. He intentionally and cruelly inflicted pain. Such damage as caused by the killing stick could have killed quickly. He chose to do it slowly instead. That is a bully. He used his power and his weapon to humiliate and cause unneeded pain. These are signs of a coward.” 

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There was a general murmur of assent. 

“The other man — the leader, so I think, of the People Who Steal Children begged for his life. He did not try to help his comrades. As Lion Slayer said, he looked to be one who has things brought to him all his life, or at least recently.” 

Many Paths added, “Indeed, we already have evidence that Nut-Pi was a coward. He did not participate in the Battle of Three Forks though he tricked others into fighting. He promised the booty to be gained from the defeat of the Veritas to three different tribes. Surely, he knows one thing cannot be given to three different tribes. He lied to his own comrades and allies. Such a man is a coward.” 

Trunk of Tree again spoke. Since he had no direct knowledge of the affairs, it began to seem to many among the Veritas that he was not participating in a true dialogue. This rarely happened, but it had happened. 

Trunk of Tree said, “So there are cowards with killing sticks and cowards without killing sticks. From this we learn nothing. A strong leader, who is not a coward could be a very formidable leader and lead his people to victory after victory.” After a short pause, he added, “Assuming they even exist, of course.” 

Eagle Eyes shot a look at Trunk of Tree and caught his eye. She signed to him subtly so that others might not see, but openly enough that Trunk of Tree caught the meaning of her deft sign language, as did Many Paths and several others. “Do you think I am a liar, Trunk of Tree?” the gestures asked.

Easy Tears spoke next, “Trunk of Tree, we welcome you to share your thoughts with the tribe, just as we welcome the thoughts of everyone in the tribe. But I, for one, would like to hear from others what they think of this killing stick. And, speaking of sticks, Many Paths, perhaps it is time to make use of the Talking Stick as well.” 

There was a general murmur of assent at this suggestion. The tribe had not forgotten that not so long ago, Trunk of Tree had spoken against the leadership of Many Paths and even now, it seemed that everything he said was aimed toward making him leader and making him in charge of the killing sticks, no matter what the costs. 

Many Paths stood and held aloft the Talking Stick.  She glanced around the circles and saw that Stone Chipper wanted to speak so she handed him the Talking Stick. 

“You all do know that we use arrowheads and spearheads and that the preparation of such requires work. Yet, most of you do other work, so you do not realize how much skill and how much work is involved in making a good arrowhead or a good spearhead or a really good axe. It may be that these killing sticks require much less work. Or, it may be that these killing sticks require much more work to fashion. We have no idea. We also have no idea how much skill is involved in keeping one or using one. We do not know how much using a killing dulls it. Can it be used ten times? A hundred times? A thousand times? Not everyone is equally skilled at bow and arrow. Not everyone is equally skilled at using a spear thrower. Sometimes, in learning to use our weapons, one of our own is injured. You have all heard how flaming arrows, which seem like an excellent weapon accidentally destroyed an entire village. We know nothing about the dangers of such killing sticks. Perhaps one who seeks to learn to become highly skilled might accidentally kill others or themselves while they are learning. Perhaps we should all have one. Perhaps no-one should. But I believe it would be foolish to steal them from these people of the great walled city, these Z-Lotz, until we know more about them. It isn’t just like stealing their bows and arrows which we know how to use and make and care for.” 

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Stone Chipper’s son, Horse Viewer offered his hand to his father who laid the Talking Stick for the first time in his son’s hand. Stone Chipper hoped his son’s would prove wise. “When I was young and first followed my father to help find appropriate stones, I generally walked barefoot. As I grew heavier and my father walked more quickly, I disliked the sharp stones on my feet. So, I began to wear moccasins as most do. This protected my feet. But it also made them softer. Is it not possible that using the Killing Sticks would make the arms that throw spears and the arm that strings and draws a bow softer and weaker as well? That is my thought.”

She Who Saves Many Lives took the Talking Stick and said, “And that is a good thought, Stone Chipper.” Though the tribe awaited her to say more, she passed the Talking Stick to A-OC.

“It is thus with hands as well. And muscles,” said A-OC. “When it is the season to climb the trees and fetch fruit, my skin and my arms both become stronger. But when it is a season of much weaving, only the tips of my fingers are hard.” With that she passed the Talking Stick to Bent Finger.

He silently held up the crooked index finger of his left hand. “It is true that the animals of the forest, the trees, even the rivers adapt as do our own bodies, but not always. Sometimes accidents happen and there is no repairing it. As you see, my badly broken finger never did straighten or regain its earlier strength. This makes me wonder about the accidents that might happen with such killing sticks about our camp.” 

P-OC gently took the Talking Stick. “We talk of killing sticks. But if I understand the tale told by Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer, they saw one killing stick. Do we really know whether there are more?” 

Lion Slayer signaled his intention to speak again. Many Paths took the talking stick from P-OC and handed it to Lion Slayer. “It is true, P-OC. We only saw one. That is an important point. In the place where Sadah and I were born, there are many grains of sand. They are each but a very small rock, so tiny that even an ant may carry such a very small rock with no harm. But when there are many many such small stones and they fly together like a large murmuration of starlings, these insignificant tiny stones can kill the strongest among us if he is left unprotected.   So, I agree that it makes a great deal of difference if there is one such killing stick or a hundred or a hundred hundred.” 

Eagle Eyes spoke next, “I do not know whether there are a hundred or a hundred hundred, but I am fairly certain that there are seventeen. I mean, at least seventeen.” 

Lion Slayer was taken aback. “But we only saw one. What do you mean?” 

Eagle Eyes explained. “I agree that the number is an important point, so I have been returning to our observations from before we arrived at the giant camp of the Z-Lotz. When we were searching the horizon for signs of our comrades, I saw many — well, 17 to be exact — of such similar sticks being carried among the party. I just thought at the time that they were odd spears or walking sticks. I did not realize at the time that they were sticks that kill so I did not pay much attention to them. But upon returning as I just have to what my eyes saw, there were seventeen.” 

Lion Slayer shook his head slowly. “I do not recall seeing any others. But I do believe Eagle Eyes. She is amazing. Her eyesight is much better than normal. It is possible…how do you…you notice so much, Eagle Eyes.”

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Many Paths picked up the Talking Stick and noticed Trunk of Tree wanting to talk. She used her prerogative though and added, “I, for one, believe Eagle Eyes. But we still do not know whether there are 17 or 100 or 100 of 100. This seems important for two reasons. First, a hundred hundred such weapons could be overwhelming while even so many as seventeen might be defeated by our archers. Aside from that, if there are only seventeen such Killing Sticks and each one owned by someone else, then, if we were to steal one to study, we would surely be found out. But if there are hundreds, a few missing would be far less noticeable.” 

Trunk of Tree could no longer contain himself, “Wait! A few minutes ago, you were cautioning against trying to learn more Now, you want us to steal such Killing Sticks.” 

Many Paths tilted her head toward Trunk of Tree and held the Talking Stick high. “Trunk of Tree, you must wait your turn, even as so must Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer who were actually there or even as so must everyone. You must wait your turn, even as young Horse Viewer did, though he be only of nine summers.” 

Gentle laughter murmured among the gathering and Many Paths continued. “I did not say either of those things. In fact, in my whole life, I don’t recall ever saying that we should not learn more. What I do believe is that it would be wonderful to know more about these Killing Sticks, but I also believe that there would be great risks in trying to steal one or more of them. I did not say that we should attempt such a theft. I said that if we were to steal some and that there were only a few, these Z-Lotz would likely notice that they had been stolen.” 

There were nods among many of the Veritas. 

Fleet of Foot signaled for the Talking Stick and Many Paths handed it to him. “Many Paths speaks true. I have been thinking of something else though. What would it mean if we had many such Killing Sticks and it were so easy to kill. What would it mean if we could kill with so little effort? Might not the people use them to kill each other?” He looked at the Veritas in the firelight as he spoke.

“Have you never quarreled with your neighbor and raised your voices in anger and tussled with them momentarily. Perhaps you were so angered you went home and plotted to kill them. But that took some thought. And as you thought about what to do, you soon came to realize that you had no real desire to kill your friend. You were merely angry. And so what if she were in the wrong. Your friendship is more important. And, the next day you embrace her and forget the argument of the yesterday, choosing life and love, in the today.

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“Imagine you had ready to hand one of these killing sticks and you got so mad you stung her to death with it. Your friend is dead. You will never be the same. Now, also are two families devastated. Anger and division will creep into our numbers as never before. 

“And suppose,” continued Fleet of Foot, that many tribes all have such weapons? Will they not have such moments and cause wars with the killing of many on both sides? And could these killing sticks not also be useful in keeping slaves?” 

Easy Tears added, “Yes, but there are other ways to do that — to keep slaves.”  

A-OC took another turn, “Is this possible misuse among ourselves not a greater danger than the temporary military disadvantage? If we cannot safely still such killing sticks, can we make  these killing sticks?” 

Stone Chipper asked, “Do we have any idea how they might work?” 

A long silence followed. 

Eagle Eyes said, “I know fairly well what they looked but I have no idea how the work.” 

Many Paths spoke, “It grows quite late. We must discuss this further, of course. For now, we must post more guards. Trunk of Tree, will you please consider how best to do that?” 

He nodded, glad of something to do and glad of the honor that Many Paths bestowed after chiding him somewhat for speaking out of turn. 

“Eagle Eyes, tomorrow, perhaps you and I and Staff Carver and Easy Tears may begin making some models of these Killing Sticks. I would like us to make perhaps seventeen — quite a good number for now — and spread them about among our people. I would like those who are given such to imagine that they are actual Killing Sticks. And, I would like everyone else among you to also imagine that they are true Killing Sticks. I would like to see how people react to these Killing Sticks among us as we continue to discuss what to do. Even though the Killing Sticks are no real, having such a thing — it is much like the masks we use to help with hunting. It will help us decide how to deal. Even such Killing Sticks as Nut-Pi has will not kill all our cousins in the sea and the air, all our brothers than hide in their tiny caves. Life will persist. This I know. Peace now be with you all.” She glanced at She Who Saves Many Lives. Even in the dim and flickering firelight she could see a small nod and an approving smile on the lips of the Elder. 

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Is there Honor in Killing Sticks?

29 Thursday Aug 2019

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

ethics, legend, myth, story, war, weapons

Eagle Eyes and Lion Slayer moved swiftly away from the walled city, at first walking rapidly and later running quickly. They had both been shaken badly by seeing the killing stick. When they were sufficiently far from the city, and into a copse of white birches, they stopped to catch their breath and talk about what they had witnessed. 

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Eagle Eyes began by simply looking at Lion Slayer, grimacing and wordlessly shrugging her shoulders.

Lion Slayer responded simply by slowly shaking his head from side to side. 

They simply stared at each other for some time. At last, Eagle Eyes put into words what they both felt. “What was that? What did we just see?” 

Lion Slayer answered, “I have no idea for what it even could be. I have never seen or heard of such a thing.”

“Nor I!” said Eagle Eyes. “But I am fairly certain it was real and not play acting or ritual. The screams of pain were too real. If that was Nut-Pi, that is very bad news indeed.”

“Indeed it is!” 

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Eagle Eyes looked for a moment at Lion Slayer. “I’m glad you eventually came to fight on our side instead of working with Nut-Pi.” 

“Yes,” said Lion Slayer. “So am I. In fact, all of Nomads of the South as you call us — we feel that way. Nut-Pi is cruel and treacherous. He is quite possibly the one who began this stealing of children. My brother was one of the people who first spoke to the Cupiditas. Nut-Pi was not a nice person. Not at all. But he had a way of talking…it would make you think he was on your side and doing you a favor, but — no, no, don’t shake your head. I am not making excuses. It’s just…I’m agreeing with you. Nut-Pi has a giant city. He may have horses. He is very cruel, but he’s also a very persuasive liar to some. My brother never fell for it, but some of the Elders did. Frankly, I think the Cupiditas envied the Veritas.”

Eagle Eyes, “Why? Never mind. But now there is the killing stick! We don’t know what it is or why they steal children or how many killing sticks they have or how they work. We must get back and warn the Veritas.” 

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“But we could stay and find out more. Perhaps we could even steal some such killing sticks!” suggested Lion Slayer. 

“What?! What honor would be in such a kill? Nut-Pi showed no strength or skill. And it certainly was not a fair fight. Who would want to kill in such a way? Perhaps only Nut-Pi. Although…”

“Although what, Eagle Eyes?” asked Lion Slayer. 

“I wonder,” began Eagle Eyes, “if using such killing sticks makes a person into someone like Nut-Pi. But, no we must get this much information back there as swiftly as possible. We might learn more and we might not, and meanwhile, we might get captured and they would torture us for information about how best to destroy both our tribes! We can speculate further as we run. Come on!” 

They began to jog. Lion Slayer ran alongside through some sparse woods and then onto a burned field. “Do you know the way back to the Veritas from where we are?”

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“I know the direction but am not familiar with the terrain. Though as you see, we are lucky enough to have a sunny day with many small clouds.” Eagle Eyes glanced over at Lion Slayer. 

He said, “You mean because the clouds will keep it from being too hot or because it’s easier to know your direction when the sun’s out?” 

She said, “No. Both of those are true. But I speak of a third thing. The clouds help reveal the terrain beneath them.” 

Lion Slayer frowned. He took some even deeper breaths to ‘save up’ for more dialogue. “What mean you? Clouds reveal terrain? Clouds are clouds.” 

Eagle Eyes said, “Clouds do have their own nature. But it not just water that reflects. Everything reflects everything. Of course, the clouds are not like a still lake. But have you noticed that the water appears different when the sky is dark and cloudy from how it appears when the sky is clear and blue?”

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Lion Slayer answered, “Yes, but that’s because water reflects everything.”

Eagle Eyes smiled and said, “Indeed. Because everything reflects everything.”

Lion Slayer kept jogging but paused in his speech. At last, he said, “All right. Everything reflects everything, but not so you can see anything!”

Eagle Eyes laughed a bit, which slowed her pace. So, she controlled herself and continued, “You mean to say that you cannot see anything. I can. A cloud such as these changes slightly. Such a cloud over a desert shines a little more yellow; such a cloud over a snowy mountain appears whiter; such a cloud over a pine forest is greener; such a cloud over a large lake is slightly bluer. You can see fire reflected in it too though not a picture of the flames. Perhaps I can teach you by the time we get back to the Veritas center place.”

Eagle Eyes continued, “First, and perhaps most importantly, do you see any flickers of red up there?” 

Lion Slayer considered, “No, but I never do except at sunup and sundown.” 

Eagle Eyes shook her head, “If you ever know of a fire and there are such clouds as these, look and you will see. It can be pretty obvious. The others are a little more subtle. Look north and then look south and tell me what you see in the colors.”

Lion Slayer at last said, “They are different colors and shades and shadows both places. They aren’t one color or another!”

Eagle Eyes allowed herself a small chuckle. “Of course not. I don’t mean the cloud will be colored blue like a blueberry or white like a sun-bleached skull. Subtle. Subtle.”

They came to a well worn path but had to run single file. Eagle Eyes jogged on in the lead with Lion Slayer a few strides behind. They ran on in silence for a time enjoying the motion, and enjoying the slow descent. They also enjoyed not being on constant guard against discovery by the Z-LOTZ. 

At last, Lion Slayer broke the silence. “I’m not sure. But it seems like north is whiter and south is slightly more yellow. But it’s crazy. There’s no such thing or people would have told me.” 

Eagle Eyes said, “I wasn’t taught either. And that seems strange. Maybe the elders want kids to figure it out for themselves. But it might be that I noticed it because…well, I notice things.” 

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Lion Slayer tried to pay a compliment, “You do.  Have. Good eyes!”

Eagle Eyes said, “Thank you, but it isn’t just things I see. I hear things too. For instance, I hear from your breathing that you need a short break.” 

Lion Slayer replied, “No. I. Don’t. I.” 

Eagle Eyes stopped. “Fine. I need a short break. We’ll make better time if we don’t wear ourselves out. Plus there is water up ahead.” 

Lion Slayer said, “You see that in the clouds?” 

Eagle Eyes answered, “No, I see it in the plants and the trees. You don’t have this kind of lushness in your country. For you, the signs of water are quite obvious. There is desert and there is oasis. Right?” 

Lion Slayer nodded, “Yes, that’s true. Although, in the deep desert, one may sometimes see an oasis that is not really there. We call them a mirage. An oasis that lies.” 

Eagle Eyes nodded. “I hate lies. But I don’t think the oasis is lying really. I think what you are seeing is a reflection. But not off clouds and not off water. So…what could such a thing be reflecting from?”

Lion Slayer could now feel his legs becoming heavy. Eagle Eyes had been right. He did need to get a drink and stretch & take a short break. 

Reluctant to start a fire whose smoke might still be visible to Z-LOTZ scouts, Eagle Eyes shared the remainder of her pemmican provision. They ate silently for a time and sipped the cool fresh water that had indeed been where Eagle Eyes had predicted it to be. They agreed that they would walk for awhile and then jog again in the afternoon. As they walked, the conversation again turned toward the killing sticks. 

Eagle Eyes wondered aloud, “How would you feel if you killed an enemy with such a killing stick — especially if they had no killing stick of their own? Would you feel any sense of victory? Any pride? Or, would you become something like Nut-Pi? I don’t know. I used eagles against someone with no eagles. I used a change in the river’s course against those who had no idea that such was possible. But there was always some risk on both sides. What if you could kill someone from the other side of a mountain? Never having to see their face? Killing is not the first answer ever, but how does this strike you?”

Lion Slayer sighed. “If it were up to me, we would not use weapons at all. We would wrestle — something I am quite skilled at. But I can see why someone who is not so good a wrestler might prefer to use a club or knife. For honor though, the combatants must be equally matched. If they use killing sticks, we need to get some as well.”

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Author’s Page on Amazon. 

Beginning of the Myths of the Veritas

Beginning of Book Two of the Myths of the Veritas

An Essay on Labelism 

Finger-Pointing among the ROI

22 Wednesday May 2019

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

chaos, Dictatorship, fire, greed, leadership, legend, myth, religion, ROI, story, war

Among the ROI, it was common for each person to become a specialist in one or two of the tasks of the tribe. One such person, named Jaccim Nohan, specialized in capturing children. Indeed, he had been one of those who had attacked the Veritas at high feast and had carried off Tu-Swift on the back of his horse. Between slave-gathering raids, he worked with the horses and when all the horses of the ROI had begun to run off, it fell to him and two others to attempt to recapture them. Most of the horses had run far south, but a few, perhaps attempting to reconnect with their foals, had instead galloped about the village adding to the general confusion. 

Nohan ran after them to little avail. The noise made by the ROI themselves added to the terror of the horses. As one of them ran by, Nohan noticed that a fair length of frayed rope still trailed behind one of the chestnut mares. He thought to grab the rope and quickly wind it around a strong post. In this way he hoped to stop at least one horse from dangerously galloping to and fro among the villagers and soldiers. 

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At first, his plan seemed to be working well. He grabbed the rope and the horse turned toward Nohan. The rope slackened and Nohan spotted a sturdy nearby post. He quickly grabbed the rope and began tying it in loops around the post. The horse reared up, spooked, and turned away in a panic. The horse broke the post in two and the loops of rope entangled around Nohan’s forearm. Suddenly, he found himself being dragged through the village. He tried several times to disentangle himself from the rope, all the while cursing himself and the horse. 

Nohan’s clothing and then his skin disintegrated from the friction. The horse dragged him near the paddock and into a large pile of fresh manure that Tu-Swift and Day-Nah had constructed only a few days ago. The horse felt the tug and turned back to regard the situation. Nohan managed to free himself of his bonds before losing consciousness. The last thing he recalled was the chestnut mare pawing the air over him. 

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The ROI soldiers imagined that they were under attack from a large army and immediately sped to the place where their bows and arrows were kept. As each arrived, they looked in disbelief to see that all of their bows were gone! A few went inside the armory to retrieve swords and clubs. Inside they found a few bows in working order as well as some arrows. As hastily as a group of disorganized men who are used to being told what to do in a very organized fashion can, they gathered their weapons and headed to the barn to get atop horses to fight the enemy they thought numerous. But there were no horses to be had! 

The head magistrate for the ROI, BRILL-BRA had been sound asleep after a long wine-filled orgy with several young slaves when the chaos began. He shook his head. That, he decided, was a mistake for a massive headache ensued. He threw on a robe and stumbled out into the square and saw the chaos. He wobbled unsteadily over to a large hunk of resonant metal which was suspended near a central dais and struck it hard. A few people nearby heard it and stopped their running uselessly about and came to the circle of benches near the large platform which BRILL-BRA had surmounted. He continued to ring the gong whose sound penetrated through the general din. More and more people began to stop their craziness and remember their discipline. Eventually, almost all the uninjured came to hear their leader’s orders. 

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BRILL-BRA had no more idea what was happening than anyone else. But he recognized an opportunity to consolidate his power and so he took it. He “called on” various members of the ROI to explain what had happened, shushing anyone who was not “called on.” As the various members of the tribe spoke up, he began to piece together a picture of what had happened. The ROI had made many mistakes. The biggest blunder? Raiding the Veritas in the first place which had yielded only one potential slave. That slave had apparently managed to escape, taking another boy with him. Now, the ROI were short in their agreed upon number of slaves that they owed the Z-Lotz. Well, that was easily solved. He’ll find a scapegoat or two from among the ROI and take their children to make up the shortfall. More of that later, he thought. Apparently, there were no horses available right now, so he realized if they had any hope of recaptured the slave boys, he would have to send out a raiding party soon. 

He asked for volunteers and was heartened to see that all the young men of sound body volunteered. Inwardly, he snickered yet again at how easily manipulated they all were. Outwardly though, he arranged his face as appropriate to moods of fear, and hatred, and occasionally belittling the enemy encouraging his own people to think that the Veritas had used witchcraft and magic to multiply the effectiveness of their vastly superior numbers. It would be in no-one’s interest, he rationalized, to let them know what he suspected — that a mere handful had thrown their village into such disarray. That handful would be tracked down and killed before long. Better yet, perhaps a few could be captured alive and tortured to death for the entertainment of his followers. 

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Painting by Pierce Morgan.

BRILL-BRA chose a party of a dozen men whom he knew to be fast runners and good archers. The rest would be posted as guards around the village. This move solidified the atmosphere of fear and hate that he wished to prolong as long as possible. His people, he knew, proved much easier to manipulate and lie to when he kept them in a near constant state of anxiety and anger. The attack group soon set off toward the Veritas central place. BRILL-BRA thought it likely the Veritas would choose the most direct path back toward their home. For his part, BRILL-BRA spent a few more minutes rousing his audience to fear and righteous indignation about an enemy who would use dark magic to overcome the obviously superior ROI people. He promised revenge and then, told the people to go and repair the village while he, BRILL-BRA would undertake the most difficult task of all — which was to determine who among them had been derelict in duty. Of course, this also had the desired effect of putting everyone on edge. For they knew that anyone could be so accused and the penalty would be severe, if not fatal. 

Except for the dozen in the raiding party, the ROI worked to restore their village and to try to capture the escaped horses. For his part, BRILL-BRA spent a pleasant day interviewing candidates for his wrath. He had learned from NUT-PI, now the leader of the Z-LOTZ, the trick of making the suspects kneel on sharp gravel while he grilled them. Torturing his own people always put a smile on his face. With them kneeling before him, he always felt superior. And after all, he thought, I am superior. After all, they are the ones in pain and I am the one in charge. He smirked as they struggled to try to keep their composure and swear their loyalty to him while he pretended to consider what they said. After a long day of this, he finally feasted heartily and ordered some more slave children to be brought for his pleasure. This too, he enjoyed, not so much for the sex, per se, though that indeed was pleasurable, but more for the joy of knowing he had complete control over someone else’s body.   

He woke in the morning to the glorious glow of sunrise, a sunrise unusually vivid and red. He ordered one of his personal guards to bring him the three daughters of L-SIDNEY. They were a bit on the young side, but he fancied them. He decided to blame L-SIDNEY for the fiasco, mainly because he wanted his three daughters. The choice was also easy to rationalize because L-SIDNEY had been one of the three men who had been responsible for training up the two male captives to help with the horses. Since the horses had escaped along with the two kids, it seemed only fitting to make him pay by giving him his daughters. It wasn’t strictly necessary to come up with an explanation like that, but it helped. It gave the ROI people the semblance of a rationale so that they would be more comfortable with what would otherwise merely seem like random cruelty.  

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Guernica by Picasso

BRILL-BRA also planned to take the daughters with him (once he tired of them) to help fill his quota for the Z-LOTZ. L-SIDNEY himself — BRILL-BRA toyed with various torture deaths. Slow burning was nice. Stoning was okay too, provided that people were only allowed small stones. NUT-PI had some wonderful ideas along these lines, many of which BRILL-BRA had never seen in person but was eager to try. As he nibbled on his food and fantasized about torturing L-SIDNEY, he vaguely noticed something odd about this morning’s sunrise. The crimson sky seemed to grow in intensity rather than diminish over time. And, then, there was that odd noise in the distance. It drew nearer. Well, he thought, someone else will take care of that. He laughed as he contemplated trying out the torture of growing bamboo shoots through the body.

His pleasant reverie was shattered by a shouting guard outside his cabin. He vowed to torture the guard as well. He stepped outside to find out who his second victim would be and then saw that the entire sky was red. At the southern edge of the village he could see flames devouring the fir trees. “CRAP!” he shouted. The guard screamed “FIRE!” and did not wait to take his leave. BRILL-BRA screamed more profanity and ran back inside to grab his small bag of precious stones and metals. The roar of the fire grew deafening and he could actually feel the heat. The ROI were running everywhere. They were too panicked to stop. BRILL-BRA ran too. 

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Meanwhile, Jaccim Nohan awoke in great pain and confusion. He ached everywhere and his ample though shredded flesh ached. He crawled out of the large pile of horse manure and saw that the entire sky glowed red. Though still at some distance, he could feel the heat of the fire. He did not feel strong enough to make his broken body run. Into his mind flashed an image of the fruit cellar that lay beneath one corner of the large lodge used for dining and for storing weapons. It lay only forty yards upwind of the barn. He crawled as fast as he could just as the flames began to emerge from the fir forest. Adrenaline managed to help his broken body traverse the distance and crawl into the landing. From there, he sat on the stairway and used his hands to lower himself, step by step, into the fruit cellar. He did not know whether he could survive but he hoped so. In one corner was a cistern of water used to soften dried fruit and he wet some cloths and pulled them around himself and awaited his fate as the flames roared and cracked outside. Nohan’s pain so overwhelmed him that he felt unsure whether he wished the flames would spare him or consume him. 

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Author Page on Amazon. 

     

 

The Path not Taken

23 Tuesday Apr 2019

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

alternatives, consequences, love, myth, romance, story, truth, Veritas, war

Many Paths awoke smiling. A soft pink and golden glow suffused her cabin. She relished the warmth beneath her blankets. She lay for a moment enjoying the distant happy sounds of her tribe and the many chirping birds. She thought of the legend that long ago the people had learned to speak by mimicking the sounds of the fields and forests. Each time she listened to the birds, her conviction grew that the various kinds of birds spoke to each other, not only to those of their own kind. Indeed, they did this both at dawn’s first light and in the evening. Of course, they hid and stayed silent during storms, but in fine weather such as this, they also held dialogue just as the Veritas themselves had done the night before. 

Soon, she would check on plans for making major paths to the Center Place of the Veritas less accessible to horses or those upon them. But for a moment, she relished the image of Shadow Walker, tall and handsome. She smiled again as she recalled the many trials that she and Shadow Walker had faced. Her love for him first blossomed as he explained his observations about snakes. She chuckled. Now, that takes some empathy! She wondered whether she could ever love snakes as much as she loved the wolves. She again toyed with the First Ring of Empathy. Every time she did so, she felt an even stronger connection to Shadow Walker. Perhaps these rings held magic as yet undiscovered. 

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A knock interrupted her reverie. “Good morning?” someone queried. 

She recognized the surprisingly soft voice of Trunk of Tree. Many Paths wrapped a blanket about herself and padded to the door. There stood Trunk of Tree, his thick, well-muscled thighs were bare from the edge of his smock to his moccasins. There was a delightful twinkle in his eye. “Trunk of Tree. I hope you are well this day.” 

“I am indeed, Many Paths. I hope you are also well. I am sorry if I awoke you. I wanted to let you know that we have modified the cool path to make it impassible for those who would stand atop horses.”

“What? When? Did you work all night?” 

“No, Many Paths, but we arose at first light. For we do not know when another such attack may come. Or, it might happen that our search party will return with those who stand atop horses in pursuit. In any case….” Trunk of Tree looked at Many Paths and, not for the first time, noticed how deeply and wisely her dark eyes sparkled. 

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After a pause, Many Paths smiled and prompted, “In any case…?” 

“Oh, sorry. In any case.” Trunk of Tree blushed as he realized how much he loved to hear the voice of Many Paths — so much so that it was hard to listen to the words and find their meanings. He found himself wondering whether she and Shadow Walker really had betrothed as everyone supposed. And, what if Shadow Walker did not return? He banished that thought as soon as it arose. Shadow Walker was Trunk of Tree’s best friend and had gladly ventured out to find Tu-Swift despite the danger.  Now, Trunk of Tree found himself lusting after Many Paths. He must not feed the bad wolf. “In any case…” he began again, “as we were making the cool path between the cliffs impassible, Stone Chipper suggested another adjustment that would be hospitable to those on foot but make travel difficult for those who sit atop horses.” 

“Yes? Go on.” She looked kindly at Trunk of Tree, but, she hoped, not too kindly. 

“We wish to modify the path along the far side of the North River so that it would encourage any on horses to ford at the lower path rather than the upper path. This should look as though it’s a better road, but then, it will end at the bog near the field of flowers. The Veritas know how to leap from one grassy mound to the next, but we imagine such will prove impossible for anyone who stands atop a horse. None of us has seen a horse run there. Nor deer, nor elk. They only go very slowly in such a circumstance. We would love you. I mean, we would love you to think upon whether this is a good idea.” Trunk of Tree stared at Many Paths as the rising sun now strayed a golden ray upon the dark hair of Many Paths lighting it up like a special kind of sparkling rainbow. 

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Many Paths smiled at Trunk of Tree. “It sounds good. We must think about this together. How will it affect others of the Veritas and how will it affect other creatures, large and small? In any case, I need to attend now to my own needs for a short time. Then, I will ask She Who Saves Many Lives about your plan.”

Trunk of Tree softened his deep voice and said, “You are the Leader now, Many Paths.” 

“I am indeed, Trunk of Tree. But She Who Saves Many Lives has seen far more summers, and far more winters than I. What kind of a foolish leader would not to seek the counsel of those whose experience is greater? Such a person as that would not be a leader at all. The wise leader would seek wisdom from the great tree of life, our ancestors, our legends, our leaders, and even the children, but in this matter, I will definitely seek the wisdom of She Who Saves Many Lives.” She smiled that smile that Trunk of Tree considered as great a miracle as a rainbow. 

“You are wise, as always, Many Paths.” 

Many Paths answered, “I will always strive to be wise, but I know I cannot foresee all consequences.” She paused, then added, “I will travel presently to this place and meet you there so we may consider your plan. And, I would also like to see your work on the cool path between the cliffs as well if you would be so kind as to accompany me. Shall we meet at the North River pass about when Sun is here?” 

Many Paths raised her arm and pointed up at a slight angle. 

In a short time, after consulting with She Who Saves Many Lives, Many Paths began walking to the North River. As she walked, she begin thinking about Trunk of Tree. His strength and beautiful physique, it seemed to Many Paths, somehow encouraged people to overlook his intelligence and creativity. As she neared the bog, she recalled how Trunk of Tree had once told her of being attacked near here by a red-winged blackbird! He had been wearing a red mask which apparently fooled the red-winged male into thinking that Trunk of Tree was a rival! Many Paths had heard stories of humans as well who had fought each other over mates. Would Shadow Walker show such a jealous rage? 

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Many Paths noticed a nice and thriving crop of yellow dock along the path so she harvested some leaving enough to reseed itself. It would require a first boiling to remove something not good from the good and then add a bit to her stew for tonight but save most of it for drying. It formed part of the wound poultice that She Who Saves Many Lives had shown her many moons ago. 

As she had thought back to her childhood conversations with the elder shaman, Many Paths had come to realize that what had seemed friendly chit-chat at the time was already the beginning of an assessment that led She Who Saves Many Lives to choose her original twelve acolytes from among the youngsters of the tribe. And that meant, she supposed, when the current crisis was over, she too should begin the long process of choosing her successor. Or, perhaps a crisis was just such a time as to observe how various young ones of the tribe reacted. She thought of Horse Viewer, as he was now known, and, then, all at once, the image of Tu-Swift came to her and pulled at her heart, causing a single tear to creep down her cheek. 

“Thanks for coming, Many Paths” the gentle voice of Trunk of Tree began.

“Greetings, Trunk of Tree. Show me first about the path you plan to make into the bog.” 

“Certainly, Many Paths. Are you all right? Are you crying?” asked Trunk of Tree with genuine concern. 

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“I am all right. I am worried about Tu-Swift. But worrying is a waste of time. Let us make arrangements to make sure no more children are stolen. Hopefully, Tu-Swift will some day return to tell us of his adventures. I wish Eagle Eyes or even Easy Tears were here to help you make such alterations look natural.” 

“I am sorry about Tu-Swift, Many Paths. I am sure he will be … I hope he will return shortly and unharmed. Take my hand, and I will remind you of the path through the bog.” 

“Thank you, Trunk of Tree, but I think I can see such paths and trying to hold hands…holding hands will only complicate my path. You understand?”

Trunk of Tree swallowed. Now was as good a time as any. He tried to sound casual. “Many Paths, I need to ask you frankly. Are you and Shadow Walker betrothed?” 

“Ah, that is an interesting question. We love each other. Of that we have no doubt. But with all that is going on… you see, we had decided to have a long and difficult conversation after the Feast of Bell-Tane. And, then…after the attack… We have not had a chance.”

“If you really love each other, then what is there to discuss?” asked Trunk of Tree. 

“Having Tu-Swift stolen from me makes being leader much more difficult for me. Imagine if I had a child. Or two. Or three. That is serious business. I would really need the whole tribe to help. And, now is not the time to ask that. Anyway, let us discuss all that later. Show me about the path to the bog,” Trunk of Tree.

“Indeed, I shall.” Trunk of Tree bit his lip. “I only ask because. Because I too fancy you.” 

“Ah. Well, yes, I realize that. I find you attractive as well, but we must put all that aside until after these strange people who steal other people’s children have been dealt with. Otherwise, how could I be happy to have your baby? Or anyone’s?” 

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“Many Paths, as usual, you are wise, but I must tell you. I wish… We could pleasure each other without having babies.” 

“Trunk of Tree, you are pleasing to my sight, but don’t you see how the eagles mate for life? I am thinking first of Shadow Walker.”

“True, but many animals do not mate for life as you well know. They seem to mate at every opportunity! And, after all your name is ‘Many Paths’ not ‘One Path.” 

Many Paths laughed. “Nice try, Trunk of Tree, but I seek to think about many paths in order to choose one to walk. I do not seek to walk many paths all at once without thinking about any of them!”

“So, Trunk of Tree, let us please get to our task at hand which is for the future of the tribe, not just for our personal and momentary pleasure. If we avoid, destroy, or make peace with those who steal children, everyone will have more pleasure for many years, not just this day and not just us. I ask you again to show me your plan.” 

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The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Myth of the Orange Man (whose Lying and Greed destroyed a people)

The First Ring of Empathy (which begins the current tale)

Feast and Fire (which begins Book Two of the Myths of the Veritas)

Author Page on Amazon

  

  

Metaphors We Live and Die By: Part 2

13 Thursday Dec 2018

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

cancer, disease, HCI, human factors, innovation, politics, testing, UX, war

Metaphors We Live and Die By: Part 2

men holding rifle while walking through smoke grenade

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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). 

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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. 

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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. You 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!

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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. 

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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.)

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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Myths of the Veritas: The Battle of the Middle Path

11 Sunday Nov 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, story, Veritas

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battle, greed, life, myth, politics, strategy, tactics, treason, truth, Veritas, war

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 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. “Plus I 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 things, 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 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. And, 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 mob 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 suddenly stopped as though suddenly stupefied. They turned as one 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 

Myths of the Veritas: The Battle on the Northern Path

23 Tuesday Oct 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

battle, empathy, myth, politics, strategy, treason, truth, Veritas, war

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, they all knew. 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! It grew agitated and began scrambling to climb right back out of the hole. Yet, as it did so, its feet slipped still more so that soon it found itself 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 feels 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, it was 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, 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 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. 

“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, it will shrivel and die. Without truth, a people will 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 such 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 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 he 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 and ALT-R…Who did ALT-R fancy? Oddly, he 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? I’d 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 arrange them to make himself both 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 not too 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, 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 she 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. “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. 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!” 

man wearing armor and walking in snowy field

Photo by Luka Siemionov on Pexels.com

Troy-Paven’s jaw dropped but he had nothing to say. What had happened with KAVA-NUT anyway? They had now spent countless hours trying one false path and then another. They had yet to find a single occupied guard post and certainly not surprised anyone. If anything they were 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. 

OH! Troy-Paven could not believe he had not seen 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. He 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 that they would now be heading due south to meet up with the larger Cupiditas force. He did not share why he thought this was a good idea nor his insight that the trio of 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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