Chapter 2: The God-Given Land
The refugees surveyed their surroundings.
After discussing with the people around him for a while,
soon, everyone reached a consensus, and the decision was relayed back to their leader.
"Yala, we agree with the suggestion... We have traveled too long, our food is exhausted, many children and women died on the journey... We have no more strength left to reach the Kingdom of Argos in the east."
"And this place truly is a fertile land with abundant resources."
"We shall settle here..."
"and rebuild our homeland."
Thus, the men among the refugees handed the children in their arms to the women behind them and gathered together. They felled nearby trees to build simple shelters.
Some women without children went to gather berries and grapes.
The children without mothers formed groups and headed to the river, trying to catch some fish.
And as it turned out, the resources of this place were far more abundant than the refugees had imagined.
The women could effortlessly gather enough fruits and wild vegetables to feed everyone.
In the river, even with makeshift nets made from clothing, a single scoop could haul up plump, delicious fish too heavy for an adult to hold.
Even the smallest child could catch many crayfish from the river larger than their fists.
Everyone beamed with joy, praising this heaven-sent fortune.
However,
this fortune did not favor Yala.
Yala was the one who proposed staying here; he was the leader of the refugee group.
At first, as a man, Yala intended to help chop wood and build the camp.
But when he took a rusty tool from the bundle guarded by his wife and tried to swing it to fell a tree, the axe handle inexplicably broke, and the axe head nearly struck his thigh.
It gave Yala a cold sweat.
After that, Yala simply grabbed the broken axe head, planning to first cut down some small trees to use as frames for the tents.
However, as he snapped off a small tree and kicked it to the ground, a buzzing sound suddenly reached Yala's ears. He looked up and saw that the small tree actually had a hornet's nest.
Yala barely managed to jump into the river to evade the hornet attack. Then, turning around, he got caught in the children's makeshift fishing net. The children, unable to drag it, thought it was a big fish and called the adults. Under the expectant gazes of several adults, a soaking wet Yala was dragged ashore...
This utterly humiliated Yala.
Still, this didn't defeat Yala. As the leader, he felt he must contribute somehow.
He decided to help the women pick fruit. However, after he tripped over a stone and ruined the third basket of grapes, the women chased Yala away.
Finally, after a day of futile busyness, Yala sat back down dejectedly beside the bundles.
Yala's wife was very capable. Noticing her husband's poor state, she took on the responsibility of setting up the tent and also lit a bonfire. She skewered fish and fruit pieces on branches and roasted them over the flames.
His wife took a cooked skewer and handed it to Yala, saying, "This place is good. I like it here."
Yala took the skewer. Having not eaten his fill for a long time, he devoured it ravenously. Chewing, he complained to his wife, "It is good, but I was really unlucky today."
His wife comforted him, "I once heard a passing diviner say that when you are unlucky, good fortune is not far away. In fact, if we can settle down peacefully here, build our home, cultivate our fields and orchards, and perhaps have a few more children, that would already be the greatest luck."
"..."
Seeing Yala remain silent for a long time, his wife thought he was focused on eating and hadn't paid attention to her words.
When she turned her head, she realized Yala was choking from eating too fast.
Yala's face flushed red as he pounded his chest and throat. His wife hurriedly went to help, patting his back to clear the lodged food...
Yala looked at his wife, then at the skewer in his hand, then back at his wife.
The two looked at each other wordlessly, falling into a long silence.
At that moment, someone ran over from afar, interrupting their moment.
"Yala, they're calling for you. They want to discuss future plans."
Yala nodded. After bidding farewell to his wife, he hurried to the central bonfire of the camp.
Several men were already sitting around it. They were representatives from the refugee group, mostly village chiefs or prominent figures from nearby villages before the disaster.
"Yala, you're here."
An old man greeted him, shifting to make space, gesturing for Yala to sit.
The bonfire crackled, sparks drifting upward.
Everyone watched the flames, as if they could see a bright future within them.
"According to the map, this area belongs to the borderlands of the Kingdom of Argos... One thing I'm worried about is whether the Kingdom of Argos will expel us, or even punish us more severely, if they discover us in the future..."
Seeing everyone had arrived, the old man spread out a yellowed, long-cherished parchment map and marked their current location on it.
A man with a Pockmarked Face nearby retorted, "I think there's no need to worry at all. Regardless of whether the kingdom can find us, even if they do, at most they'd drive us away. Is our current situation any worse than that?"
The old man didn't rush to refute but continued, "The King of Argos does not have a good reputation. If we use his land without permission, without seeking his approval, he might become angry... And once he is angered..."
The old man didn't continue. His implication was clear to all; the king's wrath was something they, as refugees, could not bear.
After hearing this, everyone fell silent. Then, they all turned their gazes to Yala. Here, Yala was the one who could make the final decision.
"Yala, what do you think?"
"Oh... Huh?" Yala seemed a bit dazed. He looked at the people around him.
He didn't answer them directly but asked a strange question instead:
"Have you noticed... that the map is glowing?"
"?"
Everyone was puzzled.
"There seem to be words too..."
Yala had learned some letters, but the glowing word on the map did not belong to any script he knew. It was composed entirely of consonants, impossible to pronounce...
Yet, it was impossible to look away, as if possessing some kind of magic—
[YHVH]
"Yi... Ye Wei... Wan... Hua."
"What are you saying, Yala? You seem off today."
Yala finally realized his odd behavior. He shook his head, forcing himself to ignore the glowing map for now. After pondering the old man and the other man's question for a moment, he said,
"We cannot abandon this place. At the same time, we cannot afford to offend the King of Argos."
"Therefore, seeking the King of Argos's approval is necessary... However, we can act first and report later. First, establish a firm foothold, ensure the women and children have houses to live in, accumulate some resources, then prepare some tribute and go to pay homage to the King of Argos."
"I think, as long as our attitude is sincere, our etiquette proper, and the tribute to his liking, the king will not refuse a village that can pay annual tribute and taxes."
After Yala finished sharing his thoughts, the men around him expressed agreement, and the old man nodded as well.
"Alright, Yala is right about this. Let's do as he says."
"The second matter... If we truly manage to take root here and establish a village in the future, the village needs a name. What do you think we should call it?"
After thinking for a while, people offered various suggestions.
"Three Mountain Village. Surrounded by mountains on three sides, it should be called that."
"Eastern Forest. I think we're the only ones establishing a village in the eastern forest."
"You uncultured bumpkins. I say it should be called Nemea Lion, the Lion of Nemea!"
"Using a story to scare children as a name, how childish! Better call it Zeus Dick! Now that's truly mighty and powerful!"
"..."
The arguments continued, mingling with the crackling of the bonfire. A sense of peace, long absent, gradually filled Yala's heart. He unconsciously glanced at the old man's map again. The golden, gentle glow once again captured all his thoughts.
Suddenly, Yala spoke: "Canaan."
"Let it be called Canaan."
The discussions gradually ceased. They asked in confusion, "Canaan? What does that mean?"
Yala slowly raised his head. Inspiration struck him, and he said—
"The God-Given Land."