JUNIPER
The three great tribes were at war, many
hundreds of people had perished in the huge conflict. It wasn’t clear who would
win. It could easily end up with only three men remaining, each a warrior of
the warring tribes. After that, there would be no one left. Juniper had let the
war go on long enough, now she had to act. If not, she would be guilty of
letting the slaughter get out of hand. The tribal warriors had killed and been
killed enough times, their lesson had been learnt. It was time to stop the
killing. She picked the strongest tribe to be the fulcrum of the event.
Juniper was always earthbound, doing her
roles of healer, witch and warrior woman. She was divinely worshipped as a
Mother Goddess of fertility and a dozen other things. Her battle skills were
equal to her life giving skills; she needed to fight to defeat her stubborn
opponents when her magic wouldn’t work. Skilled in arcane arts, she was a spell
weaver and magician of supreme power. Her hands could give life and take it away.
Her crystals were her magical key and her bows and arrows were her life taker.
A weapon she crafted herself and used with deadly efficiency. Dressed in animal
skins, Juniper was an athletic figure of intelligence and emotions. She
understood herself, her world and her subject. There was nothing she didn’t
know. Experience taught her everything and knowledge was her key in winning her
battles against the darkness. Dark energy balanced out the light side and
goodness, like the day replacing the night. Such was Stone Age life in what
would become Europe many aeons later.
She could travel by foot, silently and
stealthily, to surprise her enemies and bring them to heel. Or she was able to
travel instantly from one place to another by using her magic power channelled
through her crystal wand. This was a skill she used sparingly, early humans
were very superstitious and their fear of the witch could overcome their desire
to be led. Moving from place to place, the witch did her job. When the war
broke out, this threatened to undo her previous efforts at keeping the peace
and healing. She had to act now.
***
Overlooking the flat plain on two sides, the
low hills gave whoever held them command of the area. They were occupied by the
stronger tribe called the White Spears. Their enemies were living uneasily side
by side on the grasslands below, often fighting one another or attempting to
take the high ground. Many warriors were killed in these forays. The coming
battle would decide the issue of who kept the hills and also the low ground;
there was a danger the two opposing tribes would be wiped out by the stronger
enemy. Could Juniper stop this? She crept up the hill, keeping low to blend
into the metre tall wild grass. Her bow and arrow were ready to be used in anger.
With her senses keyed up, she was ready for anything; this was her time. Up
ahead she saw camp fires and heard voices, several warriors were on guard and
would be armed. She slowly advanced.
In the White Spear camp a warrior named Nian
held his spear to his chest. His weapon shone in the firelight. He hadn’t
killed a man yet but he had been involved in several skirmishes with the tribes
on the flatlands. It was a matter of time before he got his first kill and
became a seasoned warrior veteran, one of the men. Then he could claim a wife
and build his own dwelling for his family. He itched for war and to kill an
enemy, he felt it in his veins; they ran hot with a lust for action that often
overwhelmed him. Nian wanted to go down the hill alone and wipe his enemies out
all by himself. His warrior elders warned him not to do this, he would be cast
out of the tribe and be an enemy then. There were ways of doing things. Just
then, he saw movement in the grass, past the flames of the dying fire. He instinctively
knew something or someone was there. Maybe an enemy or a wild beast. He judged
the distance and threw his white spear into the grass where he saw movement.
His sleek two metre spear arced out and into the grass. A scream of pain was
Nian’s reward. He got up and ran to the grass, shouting to his brethren to join
him, that there was an enemy in their midst.
Juniper had fucked up; she moved too close
to the edge of the camp and was spotted. The spear caught her in her thigh. It
was a bad wound and bled profusely. She knew she was beaten before her battle
had begun and this changed everything. Suddenly there were figures standing
before her, towering over the grass, shouting and pointing. Before she passed
out, she felt them roughly lifting her and taking her to their camp. Mercifully
she felt no more pain. Juniper never even got a single arrow off.
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