The Entrance
"Hmph! I'm no cheapskate!"
Brudo, chief of the Taigema Tribe, shot the others a smug look.
The dozen or so cattle he'd brought out would have left any small tribe badly weakened, yet he'd made an unusually generous gesture. Surely no one would be able to call him "Cheapskate Brudo" anymore. For once, he'd finally had his moment to shine.
Once the cattle were led onto the earthen platform, they were secured between thick wooden stakes. Unable to move, they mooed anxiously without stopping.
At a wave from Brudo, the tribesmen standing beside the strong bulls drew their sharp knives, plunged them into the cattle's necks, then swiftly slashed downward.
Blood gushed out in an instant, soaking half the body of the black man standing beside them.
The earthen platform was drenched in blood, the air thick with its stench. It was even more gruesome than the earlier self-mutilation sacrifices.
The Wizards hopped around, smearing colored paint on each cow's forehead as they chanted under their breath.
Whether they'd agreed on it beforehand or it was simply how things were, every tribe had a different way of praying for rain. But the essence was the same: offering their devotion and sacrifices to heaven and their ancestors. Those sacrifices included both self-mutilation and slaughtering livestock.
The frightened calls of the sacrificial cattle grew weaker and weaker, until they finally fell silent.
The shelters where the various tribes' leaders sat were utterly quiet, as if they'd been stunned by the Taigema Tribe's grand gesture.
They'd slaughtered eleven cattle in one go. Blood ran in rivers across the earthen platform, and after all the earlier commotion, it was almost impossible to make out its original color.
With that, the rain-praying ceremony was over. The Taigema tribesmen carried off the cattle, now