"Go outside the tent and receive five lashes yourself!"
Chichika’s expression was fierce as he spoke sternly. He was draped in a wolf robe, sitting cross-legged in the broad main tent, with tribal chiefs seated on both sides. The tribal council was in session, with all chiefs participating in deciding the fate of the Guajili Alliance. The Red Dog Chieftain, wearing a long crown of eagle feathers, sat on an upper buffalo skin rug, a dried great buffalo head behind him.
The North American buffalo is the largest land beast in the northern Wilderness and even across the continent. Standing nearly two meters tall and weighing up to a ton, it’s extremely fast, irritable, aggressive, and dangerous. Hunting buffalo is a symbol of valor among the Wilderness tribes. This buffalo was Chichika’s prey in his youth, its head personally severed by him to create this specimen. Now, the enormous buffalo head in the main tent not only demonstrated the chief’s fearlessness and bravery but also declared his unquestioned leadership position.
Uman tore off his cotton armor from his upper body, bared his chest, and strode out of the tent to receive his punishment. He bit down hard on his teeth, without uttering a sound, letting another trusted aide forcefully whip him. The whip cracked sharply, leaving bloody marks on his flesh. Beads of sweat suddenly burst forth on Uman’s forehead. After receiving his punishment, he still bit down hard on his teeth, walked back into the main tent with his back wounded, and knelt down before the chief.
"Uman, do you acknowledge your fault?"
Chichika glanced at the fresh red on the back of his aide, his tone slightly softer.
"I do! ... The recent strike was unfavorable, we lost too many elites... and Tuohe died in battle!"
Uman bit his teeth and answered, looking down.
The major tribes of the Wilderness usually numbered around five thousand, typically having over two thousand men capable of fighting, among them three hundred to four hundred elite red-haired warriors. The harsh living conditions of the Wilderness, with scarce food supplies and drastic climate changes, made it difficult for overly large tribes to form in one place.
The Red Dog Tribe was the largest tribe in the Wilderness, having absorbed others along its journey southwards, now possessing nearly ten thousand members with over four thousand warriors and eight hundred elite red-haired hunters. In today’s battle alone, they lost four to five hundred capable tribal warriors and a hundred elite red-haired hunters!
At this thought, Chichika felt a pang in his heart. Losing tribal warriors was one thing, they could be recruited from other tribes. But red-haired hunters, skilled in archery, were not so easily replaced. He clenched the long dagger at his waist, suppressing his murderous impulse, before looking again at Uman.
"Uman, you just said, the Otomi chief on the opposite side, was hit by dozens of arrows but did not fall?"
"Yes, Chief! The last Otomi chief was killed by one of our volleys; he was gone. But this one, after several volleys, is unscathed, his skin thicker than an armadillo!"
Uman nodded with resentment, dissatisfied. He had failed to kill the opposing chief in the raid. Ottopan warriors had thus gained the upper hand, forming a battle array in resistance, resulting in many casualties.
"Thick skin? ... I seem to have heard of it somewhere, like the Cactus Tribe has many thick-skinned warriors. Otuwa once sent an envoy, saying that it is an expensive and robust armor. Just defeat the Cactus Tribe, and we can take the thick skin..."
Chichika tried to recall. The Red Dog Alliance had long been active further north, not often clashing with the Mexica Allied Forces, and was not familiar with the opponent’s tactics and equipment. After thinking for a while, the Red Dog Chieftain suddenly slapped his thigh.
"Right! A couple of days ago, a tribe fled from Red Fox Valley, what was it called?"
"Chief, it’s the Red Crow Tribe. They also brought a few small tribes with them, all now merged together. I went as an envoy to see them, the tribe had over two thousand members, just over eight hundred warriors, and one to two hundred red-haired. But after all, it’s a small tribe, there’s even a young girl among the red-haired warriors..."
The trusted aide sneered, seemingly disdainful.
"Over two thousand isn’t a small tribe. As for the women of the Wilderness, many are excellent in archery!"
Chichika laughed and did not mind. He continued to ask.
"The Red Crow Tribe, where are they now?"
"They took the farther mountain path to the north, now in Pamus Valley, encamping just outside a small town by the riverside. Hmm, it seems they plan to continue migrating eastward along the Tampen River."
"Go, go now!"
Chichika ordered without hesitation. He needed more intelligence on the Southern Tribes.
"Tell the Red Crow Tribe, they have been conscripted! Ordinary warriors may stay at the camp, but all the red-haired must be sent to fight. Also, have their chieftain come and listen by my side!"
The trusted aide bowed to take the order and then set out east from the camp. The Red Dog Chieftain looked back at Uman.
"Uman, the wolf pack hunts in an instant! In this battle," he sighed, "your ambush failed, yet you clung tenaciously, deserving punishment. However, you charged forward personally like a fearless buffalo, deserving reward. Hmm, just now I gave you five lashes as a punishment, now it’s time for your reward. Choose a noble Otomi lady from my rear tent for yourself—I reward you!"
"Ah! As you command, Chieftain! Awoooo..."
Uman’s face lit up with joy as he kowtowed.
"Haha, go on then, my wild buffalo!"
Seeing the warrior’s submissive demeanor, Chichika nodded in satisfaction and continued discussing military matters with the tribal leaders. Seated in the principal seat, he only needed to give a few brief commands for all the chiefs to nod in agreement. Even the chieftains of the great tribes often showed compliance. This clear distinction in rank and file was wholly different from the three tribes in Red Fox Valley.
"Chieftain Chichika. Scouts report that Red Fox Valley has fallen, not even holding for ten days! As a result, Otuwa fled, Mizili was captured, and Miwa surrendered. A full twenty thousand from the Wilderness Tribes have become mere sacrifices at the mercy of the Aztec people!"
With this, Red Monkey Chieftain Ozoma’s eyes flickered. He looked at the worried faces of the other chiefs before turning his gaze upward to Chichika.
"Now, the great army of the Cactus Tribe is charging this way like an unstoppable buffalo. The Cactus Warriors approach ferociously, as deadly as Jaguars. The wolf packs of the wilderness never engage in risky battles; the vast wilderness is enough for us to stay clear of danger... Chichika, should we perhaps step back a bit?"
"No! Ozoma, we must not retreat."
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Chichika answered decisively, his gaze intense as he stared straight into Ozoma’s eyes, filled with a leader’s command.
"Right now, the old camps of all tribes are in the northeast at Pamus Valley, tens of thousands of starving tribesmen are awaiting food. And with the corn soon ripe for harvesting, right on the brink of reaping, how can we leave now?!"
Then, Red Dog Chieftain paused, his face showing a hint of murderous intent.
"The swift falling of Red Fox Valley was due to the Red Fox Tribe leading the escape! Ozoma, do you intend to lead an escape as well?"
Facing the pressing question from Red Dog Chieftain, the heart of Red Monkey Chieftain chilled. He bowed his head, unable to meet his gaze, and stuttered softly.
"Uh, esteemed Chieftain Chichika... naturally, I will act with all the tribes..."
"Good, remember your promise!"
Chichika slapped the bullhide beneath him, producing a loud smack. He swept his fierce gaze over the surrounding chiefs. Some nodded in agreement, others still appeared anxious. The Red Dog Chieftain pondered for a moment before speaking to inspire.
"My fellow chieftains, we have over sixty thousand tribesmen in our hands! Including the robust women skilled in archery, we can gather thirty thousand warriors! And the opposing allied forces are at most twenty to thirty thousand. The numerous Otomi mongrels are no match for us, and the skilled Cactus Warriors number only a few thousand! They still need to leave forces behind to guard their positions and maintain their supply lines. If we hold the strategic passes and raid their supply routes, we can surely defend the valley!"
"Just fifty li northeast of here lies Pamus Valley, blessed by our ancestors, promised to be our home! It stretches fifty li from east to west, and thirty to forty li from north to south; surrounded by mountains on all sides, it is easy to defend but hard to attack! In the middle of the valley flows the broad Tampen River, which runs eastward, irrigating the fertile lands... This is a rare fertile ground in the north, just sow the seeds and you’ll reap plenty of food!"
"Having such a rich land, would you still wish to return to the barren wilderness? After living in comfortable stone houses, do you really want to go back to being exposed to the elements? Moreover, even the women from the south are fairer, larger, softer, and won’t shoot at you with a bow at the slightest provocation!"
Upon hearing this, the chiefs laughed loudly, spewing vulgarities, all in agreement. Pamus Valley was extraordinarily rich, with no worries about cold spells or water sources, and capable of producing vast amounts of food. The river provided fish, and the mountains were abundant with birds and animals. This was something unimaginable for the tribes descending from the wilderness before.
Seeing the chiefs’ expressions, Chichika grinned, easing the murderous look. His direct control over the tribes numbered ten thousand, and his command over the various tribes of the wilderness exceeded sixty thousand. The wilderness had never seen such a large tribal alliance, and only the fertile south could sustain it.
As the leader of tens of thousands from the Guajili people, Red Dog Chieftain had no inherited experience to draw from, nor the support of wilderness traditions. He could only rely on the military strength immediately under him, and the prestige of a chieftain, to govern so many tribes. For the warriors from various tribes, he both rewarded and punished, winning their loyalty; for the ordinary chieftains, he generously bestowed wealth to calm their hearts; and for the chieftains of the great tribes, he not only actively sought their support but also sternly cracked the whip at any dissent. After a busy half-year, he had finally managed to keep the tribes under control.
However, all this was predicated on the fact that he could not afford to lose a battle or retreat. Defeat would diminish his authority and attract challenges from those with ambitions. Once they left the rich Pamus Valley, without such fertile lands to sustain them, the gathered tribes would disperse as easily as sand scattered in the wind, returning to their fragmented state on the wilderness. Then, this so-called leader of the alliance would exist in name only.
Having tasted power, Red Dog Chieftain was no longer willing to let go. Seeing the wealth and weakness of the southern tribes, he was filled with even greater ambition. In this moment, desire ran through the heart of the wilderness leader like a rampaging herd of beasts. He looked at the crowd once more and bellowed like a wolf.
"Awooo! May the ancestors bless us! My fellow chieftains, we shall hold our ground here and fight the invading enemy! Cut down trees, stack stones, reinforce the encampments in the mountains...Get your bows ready and wait for the Cactus Tribe to come and meet their doom!"