[centre][h1][sup]The ap-Cantar[/sup][/h1]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/JJV8Ino.jpg?2[/img][/centre]

[hider=Summary]X) Other. Perhaps the chieftain sees some use for them that the others cannot? 
[indent]The Riverfolk are to be intermarried with and brought into the ap-Cantar fold.[/indent]
A) Improve food
[indent]The Riverfolk fisher-farmer economy is to be rejuvenated, this time with the stability and security provided by ap-Cantar protection rather than raiding. The chief encourages ap-Cantar men and women to learn from the Riverfolk and help.[/indent]
[/hider]

'What is to be done then, Hiwcantar, about the river people? They are weak and conquered, they could scarcely fight us when they had their freedom - as our slaves and bonsmen they will surely never think to fight at all. Let us keep them as our inferiors - to build, to fish, and to plough the earth in the strange manner that they do that wheat and grain may emerge from the bowels of the earth. They are not fighters, true, but they have knowledge which we would be wise indeed to use.' Ingantir, the youngest of Hiwcantar's uncles, was the speaker. The elders of the ap-Cantar nodded sagely as they considered the man's words. Many were those gathered around Hiwcantar under the palm tree - uncles and grand-uncles, brothers, and other clan chieftains of the ap-Cantar.

'Ingantir is wise, we should keep them as slaves,' spoke the ancient Howandar, the oldest man yet living, 'but they are not all weak - I see in some of them the same fire that burns fiercely in those of our blood. We should keep the weak as slaves, but the strong we should bring close. Offer them our daughters in marriage that the blood of GREAT Cantar may flow in the veins of their progeny and their strength and our strength mingle, and that we may become as a single nation. The strong to rule and the weak to serve.' There were murmurs at this proposition, some uncertain and some emphatically for - indeed, many had seen the river women and their great beauty and skin dark as the mud of the riverbed, and they had in their hearts and loins desired them.

'NAY!' declared a mad-eyed man, tall in stature and rippling with an unearthly power. Even with fifty years behind him, Fuldondar was the unrivalled champion and warrior of the ap-Cantar, and his eyes constantly burned with a battle-crazy. He was touched by GREAT Cantar - a blessing and a curse. 'They are a weak and despicable race, unworthy and despised. As a mark of our respect and gratitude to GREAT Cantar we should slaughter them all and have their blood flow into the Sea of Souls - and then we should burn their unworthy bodies and scatter their ashes into the Great Yellow Scourge. That is the way.' Silence followed as the elders considered the options. Brows furrowed, Hiwcantar sat thinking.

'Advise us, Hiwcantar. You are the lord and master of the ap-Cantar - you have been shown visions and given sight. Surely, nephew, you know the way.' Hiwcantar looked to his uncle Virimdantar and nodded.

'We shall slaughter them. We have no need for a weak people amongst us. I shall meditate on this matter and, if GREAT Cantar is pleased with it, then we shall do it tomorrow.' The decision was met with silence - and shock by some. Fuldondar smiled in satisfaction. The council dispersed, some walking away in groups and speaking anxiously, others trying to speak to Hiwcantar. When he had retreated to his tent and sat deep in thought, one of his daughters came and lay beside him. And she pressed her lips to his forehead and he felt her tears. 'What is it Julandara?' His anger rising at the thought that someone should have caused his daughter grief, he rose and wiped her tears, 'who has caused you misery? Speak and I shall have their eyes gorged and their skin flayed and their tongue torn.' Julandara looked away, her lip quivering.
'Is it true, father, what the people are saying? Have you condemned the riverfolk to death?' He frowned and stiffened.
'I have decreed it so, yes. And I shall consult with our GREAT father tonight and ask him for guidance.' She just about stifled a sob.
'That is a terrible thing, father. I beseech you, by all things good and by this good place and by the worthiness of your heart, do not slay them.' He looked at her strangely and, leaning in close, whispered to her.
'There is more to this, is there not? Why is the fate of the riverfolk of such importance to you?' She looked away shyly and pursed her lips.
'Father, don't ask such things. It would be unseemly for a daughter to speak of things so low...' Hiwcantar's intelligent eyes caught on to her meaning and he laughed suddenly.
'You are smitten? You find one from amongst them that pleases you?' She covered her face with two hands and looked away. 'So you think they have it in them to be worthy, these riverfolk?' He asked her, lying back down.
'I do father. I think they can be a boon to us, and we a boon to them, if only we brought them close.'
'How can they be a boon to us, daughter, when they are lowly and weak? If we bring them close we may strengthen them, but they will also weaken us.' She shook her head.
'No father! That can never and will never be - for there flows within us the blood of GREAT Cantar. Just as we are a conquering people, ours is a conquering blood. It can never be corrupted or tainted or diluted - it purifies and is not corrupted, strengthens and is not weakened, conquers and is not conquered.'
'You mean to say that we can simply breed them into full-blooded ap-Cantars?' She blushed, though he did not see it in the darkness, then she nodded.
'In so many words, father. Yes. And they are strong - have you looked at them closely? Even their womenfolk... it is not out of weakness that we bested them, it is because they had no knowledge of war or of fighting. They ploughed the land and hunted the river and sea for its richest. If we brought them close and taught them and learned from them... why, we would be the terror of the rivers and deserts and plains.' Hiwcantar considered his daughters words then nodded and patted her shoulder.
'I have heard what you have to say, Julandara, and I shall consider it. Go now. I shall inspect these people more closely and I shall ask GREAT Cantar for guidance.' She kissed his forehead once more and thanked him before leaving the tent. After some time, Hiwcantar rose and walked in the darkness until he came upon a group of the riverfolk sitting around a fire. They looked up at him - women and children mainly, and a few men - with fear. But one of them had anger in her eyes. He gestured for that one to come closer. She looked away and ignored him at first, but then he called out to her and the others forced her up and nudged her towards him. She stormed over to him irritably and stood with her arms crossed.

She had a strong jaw, enticing lips, an elegant, flat, wide nose. Her hair was pitch black and curled in infinitesmally small curls, braided in the way of the riverfolk. He reached out and pinched her arm. Shouting out, she pushed him away forcefully. The chief stumbled back from the strength she displayed. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled. She seemed taken aback by this reaction, but the defiance in her eyes remained. 'You have fire, that is good. And you have strength. A worthy woman.' And so saying he turned away and returned to his tent.

When morning broke he rose and walked to the river bank, where he stood upon a large rock. The people gathered around him and he declared that GREAT Cantar did not wish for the blood of these people - it was of no use to him, exalted and mighty is he! Nor did he require slaves - he was free of need for them, capable of building and fighting without help or aid. But GREAT Cantar would permit these people to prove themselves, and he would honour them and cast his mercy and grace upon them: in the blood of their progeny would flow his blood, and they will be raised and honoured, and they would be ap-Cantars.

'This is the command of GREAT Cantar - 
[indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent]Let your women take of their men,
[indent]Those deemed mighty and wise[/indent] 
And your men give to their women
[indent]Pleasure between their thighs[/indent]
So that a race of men should rise
[indent]With strength and wisdom and blood ties[/indent]
To shake the pillars of the skies[/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]
So go forth few and many, woo them to your tents and pleasure them and in them. Sow your seeds and make it so that they freely give you their bodies and hearts. And when this our great union bears its fruits, they will be ap-Cantar and our conquest complete!' And his decree given, the chief descended from the rock and went to find and woo a certain fiery-eyed beauty.

[centre]***

[img]https://i.imgur.com/YGaR3It.jpg?3[/img][/centre]

The banks of the River Tala were fertile. The river itself brimmed with fish, and the Sea of Souls into which it fed was a source of great bounty. The Riverfolk knew well how to salvage the good things of the river and earth and sea. And the ap-Cantar knew well how to raid them and take for themselves what the tip of the spear earned for them. Now that the warrior-race had settled and chosen to uplift and strengthen these unwarring people, the ap-Cantar found in themselves a curiosity and need for the knowledge they had - the survival and growth of Tilaticantar - with its hundreds of denizens - depended on making use of the bounties of earth and river and sea. And so even as the construction of the great town continued, the people set about sowing the fields once more and building fishing boats and preparing fishing nets. The Riverfolk showed them how to harvest salt from the sea and then how to preserve fish and other things in salt. The first of Tilaticantar's buildings to be completed was a great storehouse, and the surplus fish caught was placed in baskets and preserved in salt there.

The fields were sown as they had never been sown in living memory - for now there were no ap-Cantar raiding and looting and casting fear into the hearts of all. When the harvesting season came, the town would be complete and there would be plenty. And there would be bread, and there would be fish, and there would be joy and optimism. And the ap-Cantar would cast their eyes upriver, and they would sharpern their spears...