Fade To Black

Later that night they roasted a piece of Sprint leg. It was too chewy but it did taste like the meat from a tik-tik bird. "A story we will tell other warriors," Alpen said as he clapped Drindl on the back. "A warrior, by himself, took down a Sprint."

"A bantam warrior and a bantam Sprint," Fallon laughed. "Made for each other. A rendevous with destiny!"

"How did you learn to throw a flechette like that?" Alpen asked. "What a clever idea with the sword. Did you see someone else do that?"

"I guess. I don't know. It just came to me," Drindl said. "My dad made me practice with the flechette. I think it was mostly to keep me occupied when I was younger. I got real good. What about the sword?"

"The sword that you put into the pincer of the Sprint," Alpen said. "Brilliant idea. Then that damn creature stabbed himself with it. A master stroke!" He patted Drindl's shoulder as a compliment.

"The sword," Drindl said. "Yeah, the sword. Where is my sword? It was on your travois." His voice drifted away at the end. "The heat of battle, I suppose."

"It's still there," Alpen said. "You used Fallon's sword."

Alithea spoke up from the other side of the cooking fire. "Drindl, how did you cut your hand?"

Drindl looked down at his hand. "In the river, I think. The river." Again, his voice faded away. Alpen turned to him in disbelief.

Alithea shook her head at Alpen. "The memory is already fading." She stood up. "Drindl, let's check your bandage and maybe see if you can get some rest."

"Yeah, that would be good," Drindl said and stood up.

When Alithea returned, Fallon and Alpen were already in a spirited discussion. "I have seen lots of warriors in musth. We talk about the battle. We commemorate their courage. They remember what they did!" Alpen insisted.

"Alithea says they don't," Fallon argued and turned to Alithea. "Tell him. You're the doctor."

"Yes, for a time after the battle, they remember," Alithea said. She reached out to Fallon, who gave her the egg pouch. "When they come in to see me the next morning to have their wound checked, they don't know how they got their wounds."

"But we talk about it for days, weeks, months," Alpen protested. "I have my own stories." He turned to Fallon, who agreed.

"Those are the stories you learned from the other warriors," Alithea said. "You become convinced that it is your memory because it is your story, the story about you." She stopped suddenly and held up her hand in the firelight. "Movement!" She pointed to the egg in the pouch.

Fallon was surprised. "I was just holding it and felt nothing."

"First kick is always with momma," Alithea said. Bebe laughed. "Come on, let's put this fire out and get some rest. We've had a harrowing day."