Chapter 230 - The Birth of Death part 5

"I am dying, Khronos," Minos grunted.

"I know, Father."

"I have seen the spirit of my father. He came to me last night while your mother slept. He is waiting to take me to the spirit world."

Khronos did not reply. What could he say to that?

His father's flesh was hot beneath his palm, hot as a coal, and he could feel his father's heart racing. It was fast but very weak and sometimes paused or knocked.

Minos shifted on his bedding and sucked in his breath with a hiss. He did not cry out, but his fingers tightened on the head of the boar that had killed him. He had asked for the grisly trophy when his festering injury did not respond to the medicine woman's treatments, when he realized he was going to die. He had set it beside him, patting it on the head with a chuckle. "We will cross to the spirit world together, my friend and I," he'd said. "Perhaps we will be brothers there, or perhaps we'll try to kill each other again!" The boar's head had begun to stink, but so had his father's injury. Khronos had seen it when the medicine woman changed his dressings earlier that morning. Seen it and smelled it. His left leg was swollen and red from the hip down, the ragged wound in his thigh oozing yellow pus.

"You were wise… to bring me back to the cave," Minos said, his speech halting and slurred.

Minos had ordered the hunting party to leave him behind after the boar gored him, but the boy had ignored his commands, ignored his protests and angry curses. Khronos was not certain that the men of the clan approved of what he'd done. The Anaki word for sentimental was nearly the same as their word for foolish. If he'd lost their respect for carrying his wounded father back to their home, however, they had not shown it.

"I was a fool to ask you to leave me behind," Minos continued. "I didn't want your mother to see me like this, but now that I am dying... I have realized... even in death I can serve our people."

"What do you mean, Father?" Khronos asked, but he knew what his father was talking about.

"The clan is starving, Khronos," Minos wheezed. "Except for my old friend here—" (patting the boar's head) "—we haven't had meat in ten days. When I die… which shouldn't be much longer… the clan must nourish itself on my flesh."

Khronos looked toward the back of the cave, where Old Zambi was lurking behind an outcrop of rock.

Look at the old reptile drooling, Khronos glared. He is the one who put that thought in Father's head!

The ancient shaman drew back a little at the venom in the young man's glance, but he did not retreat. His distended belly palpitated below the ridges of his protruding ribcage.

"I… understand, Father," Khronos said.

"And Khronos…"

"Yes."

"The spirits showed me… you will be leader of the clan someday… but that time is not now. Let my brother Dorsh be leader for now. Do not challenge him when the time comes… to choose a new chief."

"Yes, Father."

His father was struggling for breath now. The muscles in his neck and chest quivered. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples.

"He will kill you if you challenge him," he panted. "And you are still too young to be chief. Wait… wait until Dorsh is gone, and then…" Minos arched his back, crying out at the pain. He stared blankly at the roof of the cave for a moment, eyes wide, then collapsed back. Much of the color had fled from his flesh.

He finally came to himself and his jaundiced eyes rolled toward Khronos once more. "Beware Tulpac," he croaked. "He may challenge you when you declare yourself chief."

"Then he will die," Khronos said tersely, eyes flashing.

His father laughed softly. "Good. You always were… a strong boy. It makes me proud… to be your father."

Khronos heard his mother begin to sob behind him and was ashamed. He hoped no one nearby could hear her.

"Father…" Khronos murmured, his eyes hot and stinging.

His father was looking at the roof of the cave again, mouth slightly ajar. He twitched, made a gurgling sound in the back of his throat, then murmured, "The sun will shine in the night, Khronos… The trees will lie like dead men on the earth…"

"Father?"

"Beware the black egg, Khronos."

"What does that mean, Father?"

"Beware the black egg… and beware Tulpac."

And then he was gone. His breath rattled in his chest as his spirit departed his flesh.

Khronos kneeled beside his father as his mother mourned shamelessly behind him, wondering what his father had meant when he said "beware the black egg". The young God King did not cry. It was a great dishonor among the Anaki for anyone past their toddling years to be caught doing so weak and impractical a thing. He merely kneeled, one hand on his father's moveless chest, until he saw Old Zambi creeping ever closer out of the corner of his eye. He rose then, all curiosity concerning his father's last words abandoning his thoughts. He had much to do. His father's body had to be prepared. There were rituals to perform… and wood to gather for the cooking fire.

"I can't do it," his mother sniffed, head down, hair hanging in her face. "I'd rather starve."

"Then starve," Khronos said, not unkindly. "But the clan must eat."

Years later, when the dead man's prophecy came to pass, Khronos would not remember his father's dying words. He was chief of the clan then. His uncle Dorsh served honorably as leader of the Gray Wolf Clan for nearly ten cycles of the seasons before he was trampled during an aurochs hunt, and then Khronos declared himself chief. No one challenged him. Not even Tulpac, despite his father's warning. But that was still in the future for the young king of the vampires. For now, there was too much to do to worry about a dying man's delirious pronouncements. As eldest son, it was his responsibility to see to his father's final rites. In addition to that, the other men would expect him to help dress his father's carcass. The Anaki did not regularly devour their own kind, but as his father had said, the people had not had meat in many days, and they were starving.

Khronos was troubled for a moment when he saw his father laid out on the bier. The women of the clan had stripped the big man and washed him like an infant. It disturbed him to see his father naked, his sex organs exposed for all the clan to see, but he did not hesitate when Dorsh passed the knife to him and instructed him where to cut. Not even when his father's heart, still warm and dripping, was placed into his hands, and Old Zambi said that he must devour it.

It was not the first time he had eaten human flesh. That past winter, two of the clan's elders had died, and the Anaki were forced by starvation to devour them. And he had eaten the Others with some regularity for years. Just that past spring, he and Tulpac had come across a Neanderthal woman who was gathering food in their territory. She had bolted as soon as she saw them, dropping her basket of mushrooms and roots, but their legs were longer, and they were younger. They had overpowered her, took turns raping her, then killed her and took her back to the cave to eat.

Yet this was his father. This was the man he had fashioned his soul after, and his stomach revolted as he brought the warm, wet muscle to his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tore into the thick flesh with his teeth, and felt something akin to horror at the pleasure that he felt as he chewed and swallowed, then bit off another piece. His body, starved as it was for nourishment, did not know shame or disgust or sadness. It knew only hunger and satiation.

He ate it all while the other members of the clan watched him closely, their mouths watering, their eyes bright with hunger, and when he was done, he looked around for his mother, his lips and chin smeared with his father's drying blood. He wanted to see what she thought of him. He wanted to see if there was hatred on her face, or disgust or sadness, but she was nowhere to be seen. She had sworn she would not partake of the feast, and it appeared she meant to make good on that promise.

Old Zambi addressed the clan, saying, "It is finished. Khronos has taken his father's essence into his body. Minos shall be a guardian spirit now, watching over the Clan, protecting us from the wicked things that mutter and laugh in the dark. We pray now to Minos, as we pray to wolf and snake and bear. Minos, we thank you for the gift of your flesh! May your body nourish the clan and preserve it as your spirit watches over us from the Land of Warm Days!"

The Clan repeated the old man's prayer, and then Dorsh lit the cooking fire with a torch.

A couple hours later, they feasted.