Times first glance

Gnnamme remains concealed beside the open ditch as the tall grass parts in several places. Older teen and young adult men push through, broad-shouldered beneath crude armor, their exaggerated chonmage topknots tied badly above confused, determined faces.

Bamboo spears and wooden blades rise above the stalks. Shields painted with crooked samurai symbols knock together as the newcomers form several noisy clusters instead of one line.

At the nearest stilt home, the woman grips the raised ladder with both hands while the old man braces beneath it. The child crouches behind their woven wall as boots crush grass below.

The formations tighten around the ditch, but their shouting and crossed routes leave brief openings between them. Spears angle toward the concealed grass while the homes remain under pressure.

Gnnamme’s chant rolls through the ditch and towering grass, deep enough to tremble in the stilt homes. The raiders falter as distant calls answer from every side.

Boars burst from the fern-dark beneath the trees, tusked adults leading a broad rush. Tree-dwelling lizards spill from branches, and huge moths whirl above the clearing.

The animals surge between Gnnamme and the stilt houses, surrounding the raiders without striking. Spears lower, shields overlap, and the young attackers stumble backward.

The chant settles into the living wilderness. The gathered creatures remain arrayed as a protective barrier, while the villagers gain a clear, guarded refuge above the grass.

Gnnamme’s warning becomes a rallying roar, rolling beneath the canopy and shaking seedheads loose. The force tears his throat raw, leaving a copper taste, but every raider hears him.

The boars stamp and snort behind him while lizards cling to the trunks overhead. The raiders obey in fragments, lowering bamboo points and backing away from the stilt ladders.

Above, the woman cautiously lowers the ladder’s end without releasing her grip. The old man peers over the threshold, staring from Gnnamme to the living barrier.

Gnnamme points toward a rough scatter of stones beneath the trees. The raiders glance at one another, then begin hauling them through the trampled grass while the beasts hold position.

The first stones form a crooked line below the nearest stilt home. More raiders drag heavy slabs from the ditch edge, loosening roots and packing weight onto unstable soil.

The hurried wall slumps before reaching the second home, spilling stones across the ditch and pinning the lowered ladder beneath a jagged heap. The villagers remain above, but their escape is blocked.

Gnnamme steps to the slumped stones and lifts the largest slabs aside, exposing the trapped ladder. He sets each piece into a broader, lower foundation.

A sharp edge scrapes his palm, and several stones crash loudly into the ditch. The boars grunt, but remain between the raiders and the homes.

The raiders obey, dragging loose stones away from the ladder and packing them beneath Gnnamme’s new foundation. The crooked line becomes a solid, waist-high ring.

The woman lowers the ladder cautiously, and the old man helps guide the villagers behind the cleared stones. Above them, anxious faces watch the raiders continue their work.