Tunu had thought he would be up by the afternoon, but dusk fell and his body still suffered too much to stand. There was a fatigue in all his muscles, save for one. His heartbeat was steady and firm, uncannily healthy.
A crowd had tried to see him, kept at bay by warriors. The kobels complained that more captives had been allowed to set sight on their champion than kobels.
Still they would have to wait another night.
It was Etelet who came back to massage the scales, to rub them with oils and lighten his blood. At times Elua was almost too friendly with him, which had Tunu irked, but the young shaman assistant was only dutiful.
While he worked, that assistant had told him about the many ills among the tribe.
Come next morning, he was finally on his feet and able to check for himself.
Everything they had said proved true.
That vast circular room was indeed the ground floor of a large tower in construction. Outside was the cliff and beyond, on the light slope, stretched the camp.
What struck him most was just how many children were playing in it.
Also how few captives were left and then his attention drifted to the groups going back and forth to the base of the hill.
Their victory had left them weaker than ever. Gone were the days of raids and pillage. They were back to foraging, with a few lucky hunts. Their diet had plummeted and the lack of captives almost proved a hidden chance.
Their shaman had told them to dig at the base of the cliff. As he foretold, they broke through a source of hot water that filled a large pond, drowning the trees around. This meant the tribe didn't have to travel far to get canteens and buckets back at the top of the hill.
Everything was harder by staying up there, but they stubbornly remained.
Work on new houses was mostly stalled. All their efforts had gone into that tower and a wall that would cut the highest plateau in half. For now it remained barely started.
There simply weren't enough hands to work on any of that.
But now that their champion had emerged, the kobels came to greet him. A whole crowd formed, broken by the children, the youngest of them seeing the scaled kobel for the first time. Their eyes could not get enough of that legendary sight.
Elua picked one and brought him to Tunu who nearly balked at the stretched young arm.
"Isn't he cute?" She marveled. "They can't work yet, but soon they all will be mighty warriors for the tribe."
He approached his own hand, touched the tiny fingers the kid offered, then rubbed that furry lizard head. His palm could have snuffed that life in an instant.
His own claws seemed too sharp in such a frail presence.
"Grow strong, little one." He offered. "Make the tribe proud."
The other children would not shut up, between those who flaunted their knowledge of the champion and those who wanted to touch the scales. They were so jealous of the lucky among them who had been brought so close to that figure of legends.
But work was waiting and for those who could help the kobels forced that youth back to those chores.
Elua herself told him she would go to help, gave him a last caress and she watched her run to the leather skins stretched on poles. There, other females were heating pots to make soap.
The few admirers that remained, too, had to go to their tasks, and so Tunu found himself free to walk around the hill undisturbed.
There was the chief's tent and there he was, lying down, still ill. When the old kobel saw his champion at the entrance he gestured for him to come in.
"There you are. Looking good."
"What happened to you?"
"Nothing. We are just weak, that's all. I'll be on my feet soon enough."
The old kobel was indeed in a better state than yesterday. His sweat did not prevent him from sitting up and offer his visitor a drink.
"You really scared us, you know. You were nearly dead. More than once we thought we would lose you. But you truly proved equal to our heritage!"
Tunu shook his head.
"Lutuk says..."
"Lutuk is scared. What he reads in the stars are his own fears. I know him, Tunu. He still thinks the old way, still fleeing his own shadow."
"Still!"
The scaled kobel had cut him with a sudden agitation. If the shaman was afraid then he himself shared his concerns.
He could feel that powerful heart beat in him as they spoke.
"This power, this strength, it's too much! If I don't learn how to control it, it might devour me as well! Maybe our bodies just can't take it, the wyvern's gift..."
"No! You can do it, Tunu, you've done so well already! Trust yourself."
"But what if I falter?!"
"Yes, what of it? Would that discourage you to try? We have one chance, just one chance, Tunu. One. I'm not letting it go. And you?"
The warrior's answer stammered, stalled and trailed. No, of course he would not give up. There was no way. That was his dream. A kobel's very nature.
So maybe the chief was right and there was no point in dreading failure.
"I can't let anything happen to you all. Not to you, not to Lutuk, not to Elua. I'll rein in that power and make sure to control it completely."
Such was his determination.
"Enough of that. When is our next raid?"
That made the chief laugh. He was holding well despite his sickness.
"We hardly have any warrior to spare, so it will have to wait at least a few more days. But when we can, our next target will be wéréns. They are fighters and they seem to know how to make iron."
"So you want to eliminate the biggest threat?"
"Not quite. We'll force them to fight for us. Like warhounds. Yes," he reacted at Tunu's expression, "I mocked it myself, but Etelet, you remember him? He has ways with those savages. Like taming wild beasts. It's worth a shot."
That still sounded absurd to the champion.
But if the chief wanted it, he would obey. So they drank some more and stood silent a moment. Outside the camp was full of noise, of work and voices.
The chief lay down again, arm on his head. He gestured for his champion to stay, at least for a bit more. If only to enjoy the company while it lasted.
"I can't wait, Tunu." He smiled. "If this work, we might not just hold this hill but control the whole plain, past the stream and to the horizon. We would be..."
He sighed, hit by a wave of fatigue. His excitement was almost detrimental to his health.
Still, the chief continued:
"And here is the best part. Duels. We will make those captives fight our warriors. Their best against ours, to reassert our dominance and to gain a steady diet from which to grow."
He was laughing now, a low, nervous laugh.
"Is it the sickness? That idea makes me shiver. There is no downside! There just isn't. We will harden our hearts, we will honor our blood and we will follow the path you are carving for us. I can almost taste it! Can you, Tunu? That thirst..."
The old kobel had closed his eyes. Between the illness and the alcohol, he had given in to slumber. And his champion, silent, only kept drinking at his side.