It was over and the dispute was settled. The Venomsnakes and Baldslayers had lost the battle and the Riverfangs now owned the Underwood Furrow. While the losers had already departed from the Circle of Tears, as had the pucks, the victors were still dismantling their camp to return to their main village.
“It was a test of Meneka after all,” said Banjhan. He stood with his Jatal on a raised rocky outcrop and overlooked the dismantling of the camp. “She wanted to see how we would react when ominous signs tried to lead us astray. We’ve always had her blessing.”
Tok’Moji’s orange-striped tiger-skin cloak was caressed a little by the wind as he leaned on his knee. “And yet you wanted to speak to me alone,” the Jatal replied dismissively. “But it’s not that Khojun approached you about following the pucks and wiping them out?”
“Yes, he approached me about it, but I made my absolute dislike of the subject clear to him and I don’t want to talk to you about it either.”
“Good,” Tok’Moji nodded with satisfaction. Since the last trial, he had had to deal with Khojun’s moods and was getting tired of it. “I also told him clearly that he shouldn’t do anything ... To be on the safe side, I’ve given him a few of my most loyal warriors to warn me in time before he does something stupid.”
Banjhan understood the champion’s pain and did not doubt his loyalty. “You distrust our best?”
“No, but he was his brother,” Tok’Moji sighed. For him, even the most loyal could be blinded. “Watching him die in the final trial against that unclean troll. I mean, Khojun fully unleashed that fury in the main fight, but still, I can hardly imagine the rage seething inside him, and that could tempt anyone to do something stupid. Because of that, and because he is our champion, I overlooked his attempted intervention and his repeated, annoying requests.”
“His interference, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” Banjhan said with an uneasy feeling in his voice. He saw a threat to his tiki and therefore to the tribe. “Since the snake stopped Khojun, the herb witch has gained some new followers for Haruk’Zil. I don’t think Meneka will tolerate that in the long run.”
“The Diamond Lioness will hardly be impressed just because a few trolls dedicate a few prayers and sacrifices to the all-seeing serpent,” Tok’Moji assessed the situation. For him, it wasn’t just religion, even if that was probably the most important part of all troll culture. However, he also had to think politically and from the perspective of the ordinary troll. “And even you have to admit that it probably wasn’t Meneka who stopped a breach of the sacred laws.”
“The Diamond Lioness favors dominance and our rule. Stopping a moment of weakness like the one Khojun allowed hhimself is far beneath her.”
“Or she didn’t see it coming.”
This statement made Banjhan’s old voice quiver, though he did not shout. “My Jatal! You of all people, as our chief, cannot say such things about the tiki of our tribe! That’s an enormous insult!”
Tok’Moji remained unmoved by this outburst and turned away from the view of the camp. “It is and remains a fact that it was not Meneka who stopped Khojun,” the Jatal said steadfastly. “Whatever the reason, there certainly was one, and Haruk’Zil was protecting us. Meneka may give his new followers or our tribe her disfavor for that. That would be her right. According to the ancient laws, however, no tiki is entitled to the unrestricted devotion of a troll. A Tiki can only try to win them, by whatever means necessary.” Tok’Moji spoke harshly, but respectfully, and even a high priest was not without fault. He knew that. “Or is that exactly what you’re asking of me? That I force Haruk’Zil’s followers to devote themselves to Meneka? Or should I banish the all-seeing serpent from our tribe altogether?”
“You as a mortal are allowed to do that ... Every tribe, every Jatal, decides about our tiki.”
“Wise words,” Tok’Moji argued. Indeed, he saw a trace of envy in the high priest’s words, but he kept that to himself. “And Meneka is the tiki of our tribe. We have dedicated this fight to her. We will dedicate the victory celebration to her, and that includes every troll in our tribe. Anyone who belongs to us must take part. So you see, she gets her tribute.”
“Yes, of course,” the high priest bowed his head humbly. “You are right, my Jatal. I just take my duties as high priest very seriously and have perhaps approached this situation a little too doggedly.”
“And you deserve praise for that, but now let’s stop talking about it and see what our females are up to. All this fighting has made mine all horny and she’s depriving me of my sleep.”
Banjhan looked after his jatal before taking another quick glance down at the Riverteeth camp. His eyes caught sight of Zu’ji’s tepee, into which three trolls had just entered again. The priest grumbled softly and followed his leader.
In Zu’ji’s tepee, the herb witch was lying on a comfortable cot with her eyes closed. She was being fully cared for and was clad only in a cloth apron. A new follower was filing her toenails, while another was painting her ribs and a male troll was washing her breasts.
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The three trolls who had just entered the tipi were making a few small offerings in front of Haruk’Zil’s altar, in front of which a tribal female was also saying a prayer.
The small altar was lavishly decorated with offerings from a good two dozen trolls. Food, carvings, small hunting spoils and silver and gold coins.
The praying female rose and she left the tepee, the three trolls expressing their relief. “Honorable herb witch. We hope Haruk’Zil is pleased with our offering, even if it isn’t much. We have no more.”
“Our tiki looks down benevolently on those who share their little with him,” Zu’ji replied, eyes narrowed. She was far too relaxed at the moment to pay proper attention to the guests. “May the all-seeing serpent fulfill your true desires.”
The words meant everything to the three trolls. “Praise be to the all-seeing serpent!” they thanked her and left the tepee.
They were met by Majanie, who was pleased to see the large number of visitors. “It’s good to see more trolls giving thanks to Haruk’Zil.”
“A good start,” Zu’ji murmured. She opened her eyes and looked at her student, but she remained still. “Hopefully, in time, more will realize that the all-seeing serpent has protected our tribe.”
“When we get back to the village, I’m sure they will,” Majanie said with conviction, looking at the serving trolls around her mistress. “But what about...?”
“What about?” asked Zu’ji. Those present were no danger to her, but she smiled when she noticed her student’s skepticism. “Speak freely. These are Haruk’Zils and my new, most faithful servants.”
“More than just prayers and gifts from them?”
“Quite so,” Zu’ji nodded, and she addressed the troll female at her feet. “Is that not so? You and the others have sworn it.”
“We have, mistress,” the troll at her feet replied. She was middle-aged and looked like a hut woman, a housewife. “The all-aeeing serpent saved us and you are his voice in our tribe. We would do anything for you both.”
“And for that, Haruk’zil’s favor shall surely be yours,” Zu’ji smiled. She relaxed even more and, like many trolls, she knew that swearing allegiance to a tiki meant a lot in trollish culture. There would always be betrayal and disloyalty, even with such a sacred oath, but the fear of their gods alone made trolls very docile, devoted and controllable through such a bond. “So, wear your heart on your sleeve, my dearest Majanie. Anything said here stays between us and if not, Haruk’Zil will devour too loose tongues.”
Majanie clearly saw that this last warning drove certainty into the faces of the new servants. “Well, what of the ancestor? The pucks are gone and he left with them. Do you really want to let such a treasure go again?”
“Absolutely not,” Zu’ji grinned. She hadn’t fully informed her pupil of her plans, which she hadn’t even known about herself at the time. “Fortunately, more trolls know the will and wisdom of Haruk’Zil. I have made a small arrangement with these trolls regarding the pucks.”
“I see,” Majanie agreed. That her mistress didn’t give exact names made sense to her. If they were trolls from outside the Riverfangs, that might have disgruntled the new servants, oath or not. “So the pucks won’t leave our jungle alive?”
Zu’ji raised her finger. Her student was told to wait a moment and she looked to the male troll who was washing her. “You there, between my legs. I want to feel your tongue,” she ordered him calmly and she pushed her thighs apart. “But take it nice and slow. I want to enjoy and not come straight away.”
“Yes, my mistress,” the troll nodded obediently. Without hesitation, he got down on his knees and began to gently lick the herb witch.
“Mhrrr, much better now,” Zu’ji sighed. The little play on her labia was better than a soothing massage, but it didn’t distract her. “No, the pucks will probably be torn to shreds.” The promised prospect of the herb witch made her servants happy and she knew it. The mention of Blood Tusk’s title, on the other hand, was completely lost on her new servants. “The important thing, however, is that the ancestor is freed. When he is safe, we will receive word and then I will request another sign from Haruk’Zil.”
“Well, the ancestor may be a sign and gift from the all-seeing serpent, but you’ll hardly be able to keep him in the village,” Majanie remarked. Even if she disregarded the impurity of the giant, there was Khojun’s hatred now. “Or nearby, for that matter. Our champion is barely even restrained by the Jatal at the moment. It will be difficult either way.”
“Well the favors and gifts of a tiki must also be well deserved and I admire your foresight. It will be much needed in the coming moons.”
“I am learning from a very wise female,” Majanie smiled happily. Seeing the beginning of Haruk’Zil’s rise to become possibly the tiki of the tribe inspired her immensely and strengthened her belief that she had made the right choice with the herb witch.
“And a good student must be rewarded,” Zu’ji praised her first and most loyal servant. Generously and with an ambiguous undertone, she looked to the other females around her. “You two, take care of my student. She has realized the value of the all-seeing serpent before anyone else and deserves your unconditional devotion. Take off your clothes and make her feel good.”
Not for a second did either of the females question this order. Both were even glad that they were allowed to undress and offer themselves to the student.
Majanie was only too happy to take these fruits of labor in one arm each, while the females touched her with their hands and undressed her as well.
“And until the ancestor is safe, we’ll see to that-” Zu’ji gasped once lustfully. The troll between her legs hit the right spot and she gripped his head firmly and tightly against her lap. “That Haruk’zil’s roots will seep deeper into our tribe. Once the warrior’s seed starts to bloom, we’ll have a listening ear at the top.”
Youth and lust drove Majanie. She was not as disciplined as her master that she could still think clearly and have fun at the same time. “A powerful tool,” she merely moaned. The females in her arms bit into her, stroking her body and playing between her legs.
“Yes, powerful,” Zu’ji grinned wickedly and ominously. The cravings in the tepee were taking over and she knew that if Suara had been impregnated that night, she had the Meneka High Priest’s wife firmly in her grip. Intoxicated by this and her nerves, she moaned with pleasure. Little by little, she would make everything her own and those who resisted had no place in her future and beneath Haruk’Zil.
