Robinson Crusoe 2245: (Book 2) by E.J. Robinson

the time was right. Arga’Zul was like a mountain made of the hardest stone. It could only be destroyed from the core.
    “How long before we arrive?” Friday asked.
    “Two days if the wind holds. Three if not. Are you eager to see my homeland?”
    Friday snorted. “Should I be?”
    “No,” he said, leaning close. “You have escaped me a second time. I will suffer mightily for that when my people hear of it.”
    Friday tried to chuckle.
    “Forgive me for injuring your precious ego.”
    Only then did Friday feel Arga’Zul’s hand maneuver slowly across her head to take her mane in his hand.
    “I forgive nothing. You paid a trifling price for your escape attempt, but that was for my crew. My debt I see to here and now.”
    He raised a razor in his hands. Friday tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. He brought the blade down quickly. She felt her hair tear where he cut it, at the roots. His hands trembled as he hacked away. He did not stop until it was all gone.

Chapter Fifteen
Nameless
     
    “How do you know my name?” Robinson asked.
    Nameless didn’t immediately answer. The painted men squabbled nervously amongst themselves, only stopping when the girl spoke. They loomed around her protectively.
    “Step away from your weapons,” she said.
    “Why would I do that?” Robinson asked.
    “Because if you don’t, they’ll kill you.”
    Robinson put the painted men’s number at eleven. Too many. Nameless gleaned what he was thinking.
    “They don’t like strangers. They would have killed you already, but you bear the mark of the Aserra. They know the Aserra are great warriors and do not want to anger their tribe, but they will protect their people if they must.”
    “Tell them I mean them no harm,” Robinson said.
    “Words are useless. Only deeds.”
    “If I step away,” he asked, “can you guarantee my safety?”
    “Why do you think you’re still alive?” Nameless smirked.
    Robinson studied the strange girl before acquiescing. One of the painted men ran forward to retrieve Robinson’s axes. As he approached, Robinson noticed he wore strange plastic armor on his shoulders and that his face paint was designed to resemble a cat. He wondered what crazy religion was responsible for such bizarre affectations.
    The tallest of the cat men made a clicking noise, and two of his party ran forward to grab the Render corpses and pull them into the forest.
    “They burn the bodies, but only in the forest. I cannot say why,” the girl said.
    “I asked you how you knew my name.”
    “I’ll tell you, but first we need to return to the island. They don’t like to be away from it long. From what I understand, it offends their gods.”
    Nameless turned back to the tallest of the cat men and spoke to him. Their conversation was strained, but the import eventually got through. The man shook his head several times, but the girl was adamant. Eventually, the pack stepped back, and she waved Robinson to follow.
    “This way. You’re safe for now.”
    “What do you know about their gods?” Robinson asked.
    “Only that they think I’m one of them.”
     
    The cat men took Robinson and Nameless back to their island via their canoes. Once on the ground, the canoes were hidden, and the group headed into the forest. The path was small and muddy and traversed a number of winding slopes and dizzying switchbacks. Robinson was quickly lost, but Nameless watched, undaunted, from atop the shoulders of two men. Finally, they stepped underneath some tall, ancient forked pole of faded yellow before entering a small village.
    The village was nothing more than a score of mud-covered, thatched huts, but everywhere Robinson looked, he saw the same painted colors of blue, black, and silver as well as crude drawings of black cats. Atop the fence line were rows of what looked like distended skeleton heads, but when Robinson drew closer, he saw they were only ancient helmets of some variety, with bars to protect the