Reecah's Flight

by Richard H. Stephens

  Janice scowled and disappeared into the warehouse, muttering, “I’ll leave you to the ogling fool.”

  Reecah smiled for Junior’s benefit. “I wish to speak with your father. Is he about?”

  Junior frowned. “Father? Um, ya, I believe so. What do you want with him?”

  “This is the year of the dragon, is it not?”

  “Um, ya. What of it?”

  “I wish to join the hunt.”

  Junior’s eyes bulged. He seemed on the verge of laughing but kept his emotions in check. “But you are a…a…” He swallowed noticeably, his eyes scanning her again.

  “A woman?”

  Junior emitted a quick snort. “Yes, of that there is no doubt.”

  Reecah purposely rested her hands on the sword hilts. “I assure you I’m up to it.” She started to draw her great-grandmother’s training blades and lifted an eyebrow. “Do you care to find out?”

  Junior held up his hands. “Ha-ha! Not really. One moment.” He ducked into the warehouse, leaving the door ajar.

  Reecah let out a deep breath, thankful Junior hadn’t taken her up on her dare. Scanning the village commons to ensure no one watched her, she stepped up to the warehouse doorway and peered in.

  She had visited Jonas’ warehouse on a few occasions with Poppa, but that was so long ago. She’d forgotten what it looked like inside.

  A short hallway led away from the door into a dimly lit interior. She steadied herself on the door jambs and leaned in to see beyond the corridor. So caught up in her inspection, she never heard the gravel crunch behind her.

  “Can I help you, Draakvriend?” a deep voice asked.

  Reecah jumped. Trying to spin around to see who had snuck up on her, she tripped over the raised threshold and fell to the dirt-lined hallway on her rump. Looking up at the hulking shadow barring the door, she swallowed. “Mister Waverunner. You scared me.”

  Jonas glared. “A better fate than a robber deserves.”

  Reecah picked herself up and tried to step over the threshold, but Jonas’ bulk prevented her. She struggled to maintain his gaze. “Robber? Me? Oh, no. I was waiting for you, actually.”

  Jonas crossed his beefy arms. “Really? By sneaking into my building?” He swivelled his head to take in the town around them. “Which, by the way, is still standing.”

  Reecah swallowed, remembering their last encounter. “I wasn’t sneaking int—”

  “Wasn’t sneaking in?” Jonas boomed. “A strange thing to say when you are standing inside.”

  “B-but—”

  “But nothing. You Draakvriends are nothing but a scourge to our village. I’m willing to forget this…on one condition.”

  Reecah stepped backward, not appreciating what she read in his suggestive sneer.

  Footsteps crunched from around the corner of the building.

  “There you are, Father,” Junior said, coming into sight. His eyes took in Reecah inside the doorway and the look on his father’s face. “I see you found each other.”

  Jonas turned on his son. “You knew Draakvriend was here and you didn’t send her away?”

  Junior’s smile slid from his face. He stared at the ground. “No Father. She wanted to speak to you about a position in the hunt.”

  Jonas’ eyes narrowed, finding Reecah’s.

  She couldn’t tell if she read anger or confusion. Raising her head with dignity, she straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. “That’s right, Mister Waverunner. I wish to take my Poppa’s place.”

  “Your Poppa’s place? As a tracker? Hah!” Jonas hocked and spat, the spittle barely missing Junior’s boots.

  “Please sir, give me a chance. I’ve been training for years. I know the mountains better than anyone. I’m ready.”

  Jonas regarded her like a festering boil. He leaned forward.

  Reecah tried not to flinch as Jonas’ yellow-toothed sneer came within a hair’s breadth of her face.

  “Oh, you are, are you? Have you ever killed anything?”

  Reecah hoped she wasn’t trembling as hard as she thought. “D-deer and elk. Rabbits and chickens.”

  “Chickens!”

  Jonas roared so loudly, Reecah was sure her hair blew backward. She caught movement in the hallway. Janice walked up behind her, crossing her arms—a smug look on her face.

  “We’re talking about dragons! Bigger than a hut and breathing fire!”

  Reecah struggled to remain positive. “I know, Mister Waverunner. I’ve seen them before.”

  Jonas’ face darkened. He stepped aside. “Not up close you haven’t. Not while breathing fire and carrying off your loved ones! Be gone from here, silly girl. You wouldn’t last a day on the hunt.”

  Reecah struggled to keep her fear of Jonas at bay. Her eyes threatened to tear up. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin, careful not to trip over the threshold again. “I saw the dragon carry away your son.”

  The look Jonas gave her as she passed, chilled her to the bone. She hastened her step, worried he might attack her.

  “Hold!”

  She stopped obediently, not daring to look back.

  The gravel crunched as the brute grasped her shoulder, painfully yanking her around to face him. His shoulders lifted with heavy breaths. “I should strip you bare and flay your sorry hide before all of your peers for speaking such lies.”

  Her eyes moistened, expecting the worst, and her legs shook, but a dark resolve hardened her features. “Your party was taken unaware high above Dragonfang Pass. Your son climbed a rock face and clung to a dead tree sticking out from the cliff. He prodded a dragonling from its warren at the same time the mother dragon came out of nowhere. She plucked her baby in one foreclaw and your son in the other. His screams still haunt me in the darkest part of the night.”

  Jonas blinked at her several times. His brows knit together above his softening, purple scowl. “Dragonfang Pass is only accessible to the hardiest of mountaineers. It took us three days to get there.” He glanced briefly at Junior and then back again. “Who told you this?”

  “Told me? No one. I followed you.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Draakvriend. I’ll flog you where you stand.”

  “What took you and your men three days to reach, I can do in two.”

  The darkness seeped back into Jonas’ face. “Impossible.”

  “For your men, perhaps,” Reecah stared him in the eye without blinking. “Not impossible for a Draakvriend familiar with the mountains. I traverse what appears to you and your men as insurmountable obstacles. When your party made it to the Fang, I had been there since daybreak.”

  Jonas’ eyes scrunched together.

  Reecah didn’t wait for his response. She knew he wouldn’t believe her. “I seek someone to train me in the ways of the hunt. I will be a good tracker. Almost as great as Poppa. From what I observed, you’re in dire need of a real tracker.”

  “That’s my job!” Junior blurted out but looked to the ground when Jonas glared at him.

  “How can I prove myself?”

  “You can’t,” Jonas growled, but his brows twisted in thought. He turned his attention south, beyond the town temple. “Are you aware of an old hut near the summit of Peril’s Peak?”

  “The one at the base of the falls?”

  Jonas lifted his brows, clearly taken aback. “Aye, that one. Meet me up there by noon tomorrow. If you think you’re up to it.”

  She thought about what he insinuated earlier and shivered. The idea of being alone with Jonas, high in the mountains, set alarm bells ringing in her mind.

  “What’s the matter, Draakvriend?” Jonas snarled. “Don’t think you’re up to it?”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Are you…scared?”

  “Of the climb? No, sir.” Reecah didn’t know what to say. “Who’s going to be up there?”

  Comprehension settled on Jonas. He hocked and spat. “Don’t flatter yourself. I prefer meat on my conquests.”

  Reecah fought to cont
rol her breathing. Janice stood beside Junior, the siblings enjoying her discomfort. Jonas crossed his arms, a satisfied smirk splitting his bearded face.

  If she wanted to join the dragon hunt, Jonas was the man to talk to. If she wished to learn how to wield her weapons effectively, Grimelda claimed Jonas was the man to teach her. Like it or not, unless she made her way to Thunderhead, Jonas Waverunner was her best option. She had been considering leaving Fishmonger Bay but the brief time spent with her great-aunt had changed her mind. Grimelda’s words had sparked a curiosity in her about her family. From the subtle innuendoes the crone had imparted, the Draakvriend heritage hid many secrets.

  She felt herself nodding before she consciously made up her mind. “Okay. Tomorrow noon.”

  Reecah started north, toward the trailhead.

  Jonas and his children laughed amongst each other.

  Reecah’s cheeks flamed hot but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of turning around.

  “Draakvriend!” Jonas’ voice stopped her before she slipped between the two buildings at the trailhead.

  She stiffened. Giving in to her fright, she looked back. The Waverunners stared at her. Not trusting her voice, she waited for Jonas to continue.

  Jonas pointed south. “Peril’s Peak is that way.”

  Reecah remained silent.

  “Why are you heading north?”

  Reecah frowned. What a silly question. “To get some rest.”

  Jonas and his children exchanged looks.

  “The cabin is at least a day’s trek from here. With nightfall, I doubt you would reach it until mid-morning if you left now.”

  Reecah raised her eyebrows. “I know,” was all she said.

  Slipping between the buildings, she put the Waverunners out of sight.

  Peril’s Peak

  Reecah strolled to the brink of the waterfall overlooking the cabin below Peril’s Peak as it tumbled from the heights toward a crag infested drop beyond. The sun had crested the peak a little while ago—beaming warmth into the green valley. Judging by the sun’s position, she had plenty of time to spare.

  A wisp of smoke escaped the cabin’s roof, drifting lazily upon a cool breeze. The aroma of burning wood meant someone had arrived before her.

  She located a ledge jutting out on her right and was about to jump down to it but stopped. A squealing hinge disturbed the tranquil setting.

  In a small clearing below, Jonas and his sons exited the cabin and made their way to the edge of a steep defile. Several other male figures followed on their heels, not one of them bothering to look up the mountain.

  She smiled. They were probably looking for her. Expecting to see her climbing the perilous slopes south of Fishmonger Bay. Without a sound, she leapt to the shelf and clambered down the last stages of the waterfall behind the hut.

  Softly padding her way around the thatched-roof hut, she listened to the conversation, recognizing Jonas’ voice.

  “Anyone see her?”

  A huskier man spat off the edge of the cliff. “Pfft. Please. She’ll never make it past that first gorge.”

  Jaxon emulated the husky man beside him and spat. “Uncle Joram’s got the right of it. We’ll find her crying and lost at its bottom when we return.”

  Reecah leaned in between the husky man and Jaxon with a mischievous smile, taking in the dizzying view. “Who’re you looking for?”

  To a man, everyone on the clifftop nearly jumped to their death.

  Jonas recovered first, his voice incredulous. “Where’d you come from?”

  Reecah knew her insolent smile wouldn’t win her any favours but she couldn’t keep it from her face. She pointed up the falls.

  “Over the peak?”

  “Not quite, but close.”

  “But how?” Jaxon asked. “There’s no way across to the next peak.”

  Reecah raised her eyebrows twice in quick succession.

  Jonas appeared flabbergasted. “We left shortly after you. How did you get here so fast?”

  “I left my hut before dawn.”

  “This morning?” His face darkened. “Impossible.”

  Reecah shrugged. “Not if you know the mountains.”

  She could see her statement unsettled most of the men gathered around. She stepped away from the brink, fearing they might throw her over the edge.

  The husky man, Joram Waverunner, spat on the ground at her feet. “I warned you, Jonas. Bringing a woman into the fold is asking for trouble.”

  Jonas wasn’t as large as his older brother but his scathing glare made Joram look away. Without warning, Jonas grabbed Reecah’s elbow and unceremoniously impelled her toward the cabin. “Come with me.”

  Reecah resisted the urge to cry out. She barely kept from tripping as the brute half pushed, half lifted her.

  With a final shove, Jonas released her. If not for the cabin wall she would have fallen to the ground. Struggling to keep her pride in the face of such treatment, she was starting to wish she hadn’t come. She tried not to look at the dozen male figures studying her like a prize sow.

  “Jaxon. Get your sword,” Jonas ordered.

  Jaxon’s face lit up with an evil smirk. He disappeared into the hut and returned carrying a sheathed sword, and a tower shield appearing too big for him to wield. He leaned the shield against the cabin and strapped his sword belt on.

  “Girl!”

  Jonas’ voice snapped Reecah’s attention to him.

  “Choose your weapons.”

  Reecah blinked at him twice. He wanted her to fight Jaxon? “Um…” Her gaze flicked to Jaxon and his shield. She opened her brown cloak to reveal two average length scabbards hanging from a drooping sword belt. With practised ease, she unsheathed the shiny blades—her grip against the blades’ circular guards.

  She didn’t know if Jonas nodded to mock her or did so out of a newfound respect. She assumed the former.

  Jonas spread his arms wide, motioning the gathering toward the cliff. “Give them room. The gods only know who these two might end up skewering.”

  Everyone laughed except Reecah and Jaxon. The boy appeared to take offense to his father’s slight. She didn’t let the man’s words affect her. He wouldn’t respect her until she had proven herself.

  Jonas motioned for Jaxon to start with his back to the cliff. As his son strode up to where he indicated, Jonas leaned toward him and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “Alright, boy. Now’s your chance to make amends for the last time this wench whooped your sorry arse.”

  Reecah swallowed. Her eyes flitted from person to person, trying to ascertain whether she had any support in the crowd. From the hard glares she received, she didn’t think so.

  Red-faced, Jaxon pulled his sword free and grunted, hoisting his tower shield before him.

  In response, she threw her cloak back over her shoulders and brandished her swords.

  Jonas stepped away. “Fight!”

  Reecah had never fought a person before. She hadn’t the faintest idea how to hold herself. Trying to recall how the men sparred behind the temple every weekend, she stepped forward with her right foot and awaited Jaxon’s advance.

  Jaxon clattered his sword off his shield. “Come on, witch. That’s who you are, isn’t it? A wannabe witch?”

  The semi-circle of watchers mumbled amongst themselves, nodding.

  Reecah didn’t answer, her mind enrapt in nervous anticipation. These were real weapons they were using. Surely, Jonas didn’t mean for them to actually maim each other. The men and women behind the temple used wooden weapons.

  “I saw you enter the witch’s shop the other day. You never came back out.” Jaxon taunted. “Come on, put a spell on me.”

  Reecah adjusted her stance to keep her right-hand sword facing Jaxon’s circuitous approach. “Obviously I came back out or I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

  Her words elicited a few titters from the onlookers. Bolstered by their ambiguous support, she shuffled forward a few steps, preparing to meet Ja
xon’s approach.

  Jaxon’s face scrunched up with what Reecah assumed was fury. He thrust his shield toward her, the effort causing him to stumble.

  The crowd laughed.

  Reecah steadied her stance, waiting on his next move.

  Jaxon jumped forward, yelling and pulling his shield aside to swing wildly at her legs.

  Reecah sidestepped the lunge but wasn’t able to return a swing of her own.

  Jaxon recovered his balance and circled. “Whatcha waiting for?”

  Reecah swallowed. If she wasn’t careful, this would end badly. Judging by Jaxon’s attack, he wasn’t worried about hurting her. Had she not leapt out of the way, he would have taken her leg off.

  Jaxon drove his cumbersome shield at her.

  Stumbling on the uneven terrain, she sprung back and whacked the curved shield with both swords—the resulting vibrations jarring her shoulders.

  Jaxon took an unbalanced swipe at her face. Fortunately for Reecah, his reach wasn’t long enough.

  They had barely begun fighting and already her breaths were coming in short spurts—her mouth dry. Her undergarments clung to her skin with sweat. A real swordfight was more taxing than she’d imagined.

  Jaxon steadied himself, perspiration beading on his forehead. He flicked wavy bangs from his eyes. “That the best you got, Reeky?”

  Reecah saw red. She lifted her sword tips high and battered Jaxon’s shield, shrieking with each hit. Jaxon appeared hard put to fend off her flurry but the impacts did nothing more than create a loud clatter.

  The onlookers cheered and laughed.

  Ceasing her wild barrage, Jaxon moved his shield toward her. She assailed him again, shuffling around to get a clear shot at him cowering behind his defensive barrier.

  She feigned one way and stepped the other but Jaxon turned just as quick.

  Neither combatant landed a blow and the longer they jockeyed for position, the slower their movements became.

  Jonas intervened. “Enough!”

  Reecah fought to keep from falling to her knees, exhausted.

  She allowed her sword tips to touch the ground, desperately trying to control her ragged breathing. She wanted to swallow but her mouth was too dry.