All of the tribesmen and Bloodied were assembled before me. I would have liked to get the mothers and grandmothers involved as well, but with no precedent for that, it would have to wait until some changes were already underway.
“Some of you already know me,” I said, looking over the Uli. “Some of you may not. Yesterday, I defeated Roba and claimed his position. My name is Mali-iq Rumi, the son of Daru-an Bauq. I grew up in this tribe, before the migration. I took part in the battle in which we lost Ardu-un Iqul Roba, trying to defend our claim on new shores. When we settled here, I was the one who created the boats, with the help of the grandmothers, and began fishing the deeper waters to help feed our tribe—a feat for which I was exiled.”
Many of the tribesmen were listening in silence, but the Bloodied were less stoic, and there were some murmurs.
“In my exile, I discovered a distant tribe of people with a different way of living. Their boys were not Bloodied, as they had no First Blood ritual at all.” That caused even the statuesque tribesmen to start to frown. “Yet they were not weak! In fact, they were strong. Stronger than me! Stronger than any Roba!”
That was a slight exaggeration, as it was really only the elders who had reached that level of strength, but the fact remained that it was possible for any Bonded family to grow their strength to match the strength of Uli tribesmen and chiefs, given enough time to train. And it had a higher ceiling, overall.
“Rather than defeat me in battle, these people took me in, for that was their way. It was a part of the secret to their strength, which their elders and their true leader shared with me,” I said, glossing over the concept of a goddess for now. “Instead of undergoing Blood rituals, they perform a different kind of ritual in which two people join their power willingly, sharing it rather than one defeating the other and stealing it. And we can use this method, too. Watch!”
The night before, after telling Aqir, Duno, Ubo, and Orma about the Blood Bond, the younger males had grown excited. It wasn’t too surprising, as these were the Uli who had been willing to take up fishing and avoid bloodshed in the first place, so they were somewhat self-selecting for the kind of mentality that would be necessary to successfully Bond. They had wanted to try it, immediately, to shore up our faction’s strength.
It felt premature to me, since I hadn’t yet established any faith for the All-Bonded, I hadn’t yet cultivated the herbs, and I hadn’t even been back for more than a day.
But having proof of the Bond would go a long way towards helping change minds among the more staunch Uli tribesmen. There would still likely be some traditionalists who fought back, but they would be far larger in number if I couldn’t back up my words.
Of the four, Duno and Orma had the closest relationship. They were actually creche brothers, and unlike my relationship with Bar-al Uqami, the older brother had not bullied his younger brother. They had supported each other, both before and after becoming Bloodied, and had long since vowed to never challenge one another.
“Would you die for each other?” I had asked the two, seriously. “You must both be willing to give up your lives for the other. In fact, if the ritual fails, it’s possible that the weaker of you will die, your Blood drained by the other.”
The brothers looked at each other. “Yes,” Orma said, looking back at me. “I would give my life for Duno.”
“And I for Orma,” Duno nodded.
I looked at the other two. “Aqir and Ubo, you two don’t share the same father, right?” They shook their heads. “In that case, you should wait for now. That isn’t necessary, but this is not a decision to take lightly. To do this is to join together for life, inseparably. But since Duno and Orma already share the bond of brotherhood, perhaps they can share the Bond of Blood.”
The brothers nodded. “Tell us what to do.”
In Sheowon culture, Bonding was also marriage, but I was tossing that out the window for now. I didn’t have the luxury of trying to create a perfect mirror of Sheowon civilization here, nor did I think that was the right thing to do. While sailing, I had a few more discussions with the admin about the Bond and how flexible it was, as I had been worried about Bonding people who were already Bloodied and at different levels of strength.
When Sheowon first Bonded, they were both at 1 Blood, but when two couples later Bonded, that was no longer the case. Since there was no rush, and Blood could be trained, best practice called for the weaker couple to grow to match the stronger couple before Bonding, but it wasn’t strictly speaking necessary. So long as the stronger Sheowon were careful, they could bond with weaker ones without hurting them.
Uli strength was different from Sheowon strength, though, and not built on sharing from the ground up. A stronger Uli was used to conquering Blood, not sharing it, so it was better to avoid large differences in power. The admin said that so long they were roughly within the same amount of Blood they would gain by farming the retaliation of one another, it should be fine.
She even told me about other cultures that knew how to Bond but still killed, including one matriarchal society on an island far from here. There, only the females Bonded, and the males were kept servile. During mating season, if a group of Bonded females wanted to breed, they would choose a male, and the entire group would breed with him over the course of the estrus… after which they ritualistically slaughtered him. Thankfully, I hadn’t been born on that island.
Whatever way that Uli culture developed around the Bond, it would take time. It wasn’t something I could force in a single lifetime. My job was only to introduce the method and establish some connection between those that practiced it and the admin, so that she could guide things over multiple generations.
I would likely fail if I tried to convince tribesmen to Bond with their mates, to replicate marriage, since they were far too powerful to do so, and would gain so little in return. For now, brotherhood—literal or figurative—was likely the best in, since it was the closest to the bond between tribesmen already. It was the same mechanism which slowed the ritual killing when the males were strong enough to hunt.
From the front of my tent where I addressed my tribe, I motioned Duno and Orma forward. The brothers clasped hands, as they had done the night before, and showcased the result of our efforts.
As tribesmen, both Duno and Orma had over 48 Blood. Bonded, it swelled to around 100, outshining what any Uli was likely to earn in life alone. Though, with my Will and blessing, I was still a bit more powerful, which was part of why I wasn’t in a rush to Bond more than two at once just yet.
The crowd gasped at the display of power, and I struggled not to grin. It was an easy win, since I was building on top of the existing foundation of Uli strength. In the future, it would take more work to reach this level of power for a pair of Bonded Uli through pure training, without killing.
I wasn’t going to stop here, either. I couldn’t Bond the males to the females in this generation, but there was no reason not to start teaching the females to Bond to one another. The collected mates of each tribesmen shared a bond of sisterhood which would likely be even easier to leverage, since it had no foundation of killing, though that could wait until I had the herbs and some religion in place.
This was only the beginning.
*
One display was hardly enough to convince everyone. I didn’t want to rule with an iron fist, since I wouldn’t be able to force people to Bond against their will, so I opened the floor to questions, which led to a lengthy discussion about Bonded Blood training, how we would feed more mouths without challenges, more information about the Sheowon, and so on. I explained progressive overload, how we would start fishing again, and laid the groundwork for introducing the All-Bonded to the Uli.
Population density would rise, but when we had Bonded Uli who could easily crush an enemy Roba, migration wasn’t as high-risk. Even if the tribes stayed small in scope, it wouldn’t be difficult for families to head off to create new tribes. The Bond was a bit slower to grow, but ultimately superior. Once I had it established, it should naturally spread up and down the shore, replacing the current system.
Once Uli culture had changed, perhaps it would be easier for larger groups of Uli to live together. Then we could establish more permanent settlements, particularly if we could stabilize the food supply.
Fishing would have to stand in for animal husbandry for now, but once we were strong enough to push back the uqandu, perhaps we could find more of their inland prey, and among those creatures, perhaps there was something similar to what the Sheowon kept as livestock, or another animal the Uli could start to domesticate. Migrating inland, perhaps there were more fertile biomes where agriculture was possible. Perhaps we would discover those in searching for areas to mine iron ore and coal.
By the end of this first demonstration, I was sure that I hadn’t yet convinced the entire tribe, but I had shown enough to stave off any immediate leadership challenges or schisms. I was sure that either or both would yet come, especially if the traditionalists didn’t have the mental framework to Bond at all. It would be much easier to flip the younger Bloodied boys who hadn’t fully committed to the lifestyle, and even easier for the next generation.
Once the gathering dispersed, I headed over to the grandmothers.
In my few years of being a tribesman, I had spent a lot of time with these elderly females, making the boats and learning to sew. I spotted the surviving kayaks and canoes, tucked away, and made a mental note to get people fishing as soon as possible.
“Mali?” a familiar aged voice asked. I turned and smiled at the familiar elderly Uli.
“Hi Bimi,” I said. “It’s good to see you again.”
“It’s good to see you too,” she said, her surprised expression transforming into a smile. “I thought you were done for.”
“I’m too stubborn to die in exile. Oh, I found what I was looking for,” I told Bimi with a grin. She had been the grandmother who clued me in to the existence of the tar pits in the first place. “And so much more. I’ll tell you all about it. Where’s Qora?”
“Ah,” Bimi said, her expression falling. “Qora is no longer with us.”
My face fell. “I see,” I said softly. Qora had been old before the migration, not to mention all the strain that had put on the elderly grandmother. It wasn’t a surprise to hear she had passed, but it still hurt. She taught me to sew, and my first kayak wouldn’t have been possible without her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Bimi patted me on the arm fondly. “She passed peacefully.”
I nodded. It wasn’t a shock that the elderly Uli had died, but I had hoped to see her again and regale her with my tales of adventure and my plans for the future of the tribe. I let out a sigh, wishing for her next life to be a good one.
Despite my mood being somewhat derailed, I gathered a few more of the grandmothers that I knew from my boat-making days and sat down with them to give them an overview of what I learned and what I planned for the tribe, now that I was in charge. We would need more boats, of course, but I always wanted to get their insight into the relationship between mothers so I could figure out the best way to introduce the Blood Bond to them.
By the time I left the grandmothers, it was well into the afternoon. I thought about returning to my tent, or finding some boys to talk fishing with, but shook my head. There was something I was putting off doing, but leaving it another day would only make it more uncomfortable.
I turned, heading towards the other side of the camp. Things had changed since I left the tribe, but some things remained the same.
Stepping into the chief’s creche, I looked over the many children who had frozen in place at the presence of the unfamiliar tribesman. These kids would be my responsibility now, yet another reason why I had to succeed at establishing the Blood Bond.
It wasn’t just the kids, either. Surprised gasps drew my attention to the mothers, of which there were many; the Roba had many mates. I looked through them, until one stepped forward, recognition dawning on her face.
“Malimali?”
“Hi, Nadinadi. It’s been a while.”