by Susi Wright
He replied, determined not to elaborate on that fact, with an enigmatic smile and a singular ‘Yes.’ And they resumed walking together in companionable silence, Charity neatly sedated and limping only occasionally, and all of them fatigued from their brush with the hungry zabuk.
Chapter Twenty-one
Well after dark and deep into the forest, Luminor announced they should stop. While they had continued on foot and there was still enough light, he had collected some Prian herb, chewed it, and applied it to the samblar’s wounds. It was long past time to rest, but Luminor had wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and the Capital, since a vague, lingering anxiety had been dogging him all day. Here in this remote, densely forested part of the country, a familiar place in which he would normally feel at peace, where he and Altor had spent many hours chasing each other in the darkness before returning to their temporary camp, he had thought it would be safer to rest, if only for a few hours. But not now.
He scanned the environment, removing the saddle and hobbling the samblar contentedly in a patch of lush grass next to the stream. The water skins full, he returned some distance through the trees to the level clearing they had chosen to camp. A stronger frisson of unease had surged in the last few minutes, and he could not shake it off.
‘We will not light fire tonight,’ he stated, adding for Fralii’s benefit, ‘Someone might see.’
‘But there is no one for miles, is there?’ protested Fralii, starting to shiver in the chill night air.
‘No one,’ he reassured her, wrapping both blankets gently around her. ‘Better be safe. Please sleep now,’ he encouraged her as she lay wearily down to rest. He would stay awake to keep watch.
No one, but perhaps… something, he thought ominously, and certain there would be no sleep for him again this night, he propped himself against a tree trunk and nocked an arrow into his bow, expecting whatever had caught their scent would most probably find them soon, with or without the fire.
As the minutes stretched out, some in silence, some interrupted by the chirrup of an insect, Luminor reflected for a moment, how much more dangerous his life had become since he had become involved with a human. She certainly needed protection. And he would never choose to go back; this was Fate and he was somehow bound to Fralii, whatever challenges lay ahead. Ironically, he had to admit some wisdom in his father’s rules, feeling a pang of guilt at his deceit.
The present moment beckoned, and he turned his awareness out into the forest. He knew something was out there, and dangerous. He hoped it was not too difficult to confuse or kill, using his powers, sword, and bow. Worse, he thought he could detect more than one.
He heard the flapping of wings from a distance away, then the loud rustling of leaves as a large creature landed high in the canopy, followed by another. He quickly scanned the treetops to identify the predator, his excellent night vision invaluable now, distinguishing the menacing shape of a huge bat-like beast clinging to the topmost branches, weighing them down heavily. Kudros! Exactly as Thunis had described, the beast whose poisonous bite had nearly killed his father.
There was no more thinking, as both beasts swooped down. Luminor mustered his mental power, directing it at one, while shooting a well-aimed arrow into the other. The first seemed to lose equilibrium and was flying haphazardly around them in induced confusion. The other had fallen to the ground, its wing and leg ripped through by the arrow, rendered flightless. But it was crawling along the ground towards Fralii, its fanged jaws snapping hungrily, drooling copiously, hell-bent on a meal. She had awoken terrified, screaming as the ravenous kudros advanced, dragging its broken wing and leg, grunting savagely, intent on its prey. Fatigue was not helping Luminor maintain his strength of focus, and twice the airborne beast swooped directly at him as he tried to reach Fralii. He managed to send it off again, its mind in chaos, using the momentum of its rage against it. Then with another arrow into the grounded one, he leapt on top of it, and a final thrust of his sword through its neck finished it as he somersaulted to land beside Fralii. She was frozen in terror. The maddened kudros was flapping and thrashing in frustration, sometimes dangerously close. Luminor was out of arrows. He was also out of options, so as a last resort, throwing caution to the wind, he raised his cloak, swooping in to pick up Fralii, just as the beast flapped so close he thought it touched him. In moments, the helping wind had carried them high up in a tree on a distant ridge, furlongs from the mayhem. Discovering a large hollow in the lower trunk, he closeted his human cargo within, while she was still stunned with fright, and climbed in beside her. Fralii, numbed by terror, had only the energy to whisper, ‘You can… fly!’ before she fainted.
As his breathing slowed, and adrenaline receded, Luminor felt a stinging sensation in his arm, thinking he must have scratched it on a branch during the mad flight, but as he looked down and saw the jagged teeth-marks, he realised, with a jolt, that he was in real trouble. He lay there thinking he should have been more careful, or faster, panting as the pain increased by the minute, contemplating what could now be the end of him, while he listened weakly to the flapping of the kudros continuing for a while in the forest below, feeling the insidious onset of the poison, the sound gradually fading into the far distance, as he faded into oblivion.
Chapter Twenty-two
Fralii woke with a start, the horrors of the night re-manifesting themselves malevolently in her dreams, where the terrible winged monster had devoured her bodily, and she was somehow trapped in its belly, its digestive juices pouring over her as she pummelled to escape the squeezing walls of its stomach, tried to find a way back out to the fresh air . . .
Becoming aware of her surroundings, apparently safe in a tree hollow, gave her some relief, but still she did not feel quite right. Her legs were cramped, she was hot and sticky, and Luminor’s full weight was across her chest, where he had fallen asleep, face down. She wriggled, a little irritated, pushing on his chest to move him, ‘Wake up, Lumi! Not only can you fly… which, by the way, you did not tell me! You wrongly think you can sleep on top of me. In our culture that is rude! I hardly know you! Get off!’ She shoved harder, rolling him onto his back, his eyes still closed. A cool rush of air over her, in his stead, made her realise the source of the heat and clamminess had been his body. That he had failed to wake, his breathing very shallow and seeming to be in the grip of a sudden fever, gave her cause for shame at her tirade. And alarm. She decided he must need water, and soon, so she clambered over his body and peeked out of their sanctuary, quite afraid, but more determined to try to help him. He had saved her life that night.
It was a short and not-too-difficult climb to the ground, the hollow just high enough to avoid the notice of marauding animals on the forest floor. Resolutely, she headed down the slope to where she knew the stream flowed. She intended to follow it all the way down to where they had camped near the bottom of the valley, find Charity and their gear, fill the water skins, and return with everything to their hideout.
Approaching the place of the attack, her stomach roiled, fearful the beasts might still be lurking. She flattened against a tree to peer around it at the campsite, for several long moments searching the surrounding forest for sight or sound of danger. But it was eerily quiet. She shuddered when she saw the corpse of one kudros still lay where Luminor had killed it. The other was nowhere in sight.
All clear, she crept over to the saddlebags, retrieving a few remaining morsels of food which she stuffed into her pockets, picked up the water skins, rolled up and tied the blankets in a rope which she slung across her back, and made her way further down to the stream, where they had left the samblar. She hoped the poor animal’s wounds looked better today, as according to Luminor, the herb was miraculous in its healing properties.
At the riverbank, she stopped in her tracks. There were the hobbles, half-covered, lying in a pile of leaf litter. She bent down with a feeling of dread, and as she picked up one, the other came out of the leaves with part of a mangle
d grey leg attached! Horrified, she dropped it, the reality setting in of what must have happened.
‘Aah! Charity! Oh… no!’ she whimpered. Looking around bleakly, she could see signs of the struggle. There was blood on the ground, and on some of the boulders in the stream. Clumps of bloodied samblar hair were scattered over a large area on the other bank of the stream, and just visible, protruding from a cleft in the rocks further on, was the lifeless grey head with the glazed eyes almost looking directly at her in hopeless appeal. She felt sickened, averting her eyes and cursing her imagination. If she had anything in her stomach, she would have lost it as she retched convulsively. So the kudros had found a meal after all. Nature was sometimes so cruel! Sadness welled up, and she fell to her knees, covering her face as the tears came unchecked.
After a while though, with the resilience born of her life on the road, grief gave way to the urgent need to tend to the living. At least she hoped Lumi was still alive, having little idea what ailed him except that she had seen the bite wound with purple veining spreading from it, suspecting that to be the cause. Finding her feet, she wiped her eyes, brushed off her clothing, and on shaky legs, walked carefully upstream of the gory scene, to splash her face in the cool water and fill the water-skins, before setting off uphill the way she had come.
She had tied pieces of cloth ripped from her sleeve as markers, one of the things her father had taught her about survival on their travels. She remembered him fondly, hoping she would somehow get back to him, and find him well. She was a little sorry to think of all the times her stubborn independence had challenged him, but a little grateful that strength might help her now.
Arriving back at their tree, she shimmied up to the hollow, carefully lowering the water-skins then herself in beside Luminor. He was soaked in sweat, his head turning deliriously from side to side and muttering incoherently. She covered him with the blankets, dabbed his forehead with a wet cloth, and tried to coax him to drink some water. Her soothing ministrations seem to quiet him for long enough to manage a mouthful, before the fever took over again, and all she could do was mop his brow and pray to the Ancestors for his life. And she wanted him to live, not just to see her safely home. In their few days together, she had gotten to know him better, admitted she had begun to care about him, but long before that, from their first meeting in the forest, realised she had felt drawn to him. She did not want to imagine him leaving at the end of this journey. In fact, she felt bereft already as he lay there, weakly hovering between life and death.
She had forced herself to eat one of the biscuits, even though she felt not at all hungry, aware she should keep up her strength. The fever would take its course, coming and going relentlessly, as the day became night. Lumi had slept fitfully between bouts of delirium. She had also found some of the spare salve he had prepared for the samblar, and she felt a sharp pang of sadness for Charity, using it to pack the angry purple bite on Luminor’s arm, binding it with linen ripped from the hem of her tunic.
In the long hours of darkness, she succeeded in getting a few more mouthfuls of water past his lips. During his quieter times, she would snatch an hour of sleep in between his violent tossing and turning, at which times she would wake to tend to him, placing the cool wet cloth on his brow or offering sips of water. At one time, he became completely unconscious, pale and still as death; panic was rising in her gut as she checked for breathing, for long minutes failing to find any, then only almost imperceptible. Grim realisation told her he was struggling to live.
A few years ago, she had heard a story told by one of the old folk they had met on their travels in the Far North, of the kudros, one of the most feared creatures in history. Nowadays, people thought they had all gone. But the storyteller’s description aptly fit the monsters who attacked and had obviously bitten Lumi. According to tales, the bite was fatal. No one knew anyone who had survived. Fralii hoped the stories were wrong.
Chapter Twenty-three
Fralii woke the next morning to a growling noise and sat bolt upright, but quickly recognised her protesting empty stomach. Ignoring that for the moment, her attention went straight to Luminor. He was very still. Her belly churned for the dozenth time; she looked at his chest and thankfully detected just the slightest movement. She put her hand on him. He was cooler, no longer burning up. Shaking him gently, she said his name, hoping that small communication would bring him back. No response. The butterflies that now seemed to have made a permanent home in her gut began fluttering madly, because in her limited experience, only having nursed her father once, through a mild bout of the ague, she was not sure if this was the end of the fever, or the beginning of death.
She would have to wait a while and see. With the sobering thought that if he died, she would have to find a way to survive on her own, she welcomed the distraction of having to get out of the tree to relieve her bladder, down in the forest.
That accomplished, she retraced her steps to where she had seen a bush of succulent edible vellonberries earlier. Feeling ravenous, she ate her fill of them, the sweet blue juice running down her chin, putting a few more in her satchel to take back to the hideout, anxious to check on Lumi. Using a moist cloth on her face and neck, she was as refreshed and ready as she could be for another day.
From a short distance away, she could hear murmurings coming from their tree, signalling that Lumi must be conscious, but the breathless, hoarse sounds were becoming quickly more and more distressed. Anxiously, she scaled the trunk and quickly boosted herself up and over into the hollow, to find Luminor trying to prop himself up, though too weak to do more than croak, ‘Fralii… Fralii!’ then something incomprehensible. Much of his garbled speech during the fever must have been in his native tongue. She could not understand a word of it. He slumped back tiredly, but his now-open eyes never left her face, his worried expression softening. She could see with a surge of relief that he had improved, though his eyes were dull and unfocussed. She reached out and touched his brow, checking for signs of fever, then smoothed the sweat-soaked hair out of his face so she could study him closely.
‘Have you got pain, Lumi? Where does it hurt? Is it the bite?’ She picked up his injured arm and removed the rag holding the herbal salve in place. The dangerous purple coloration had surprisingly subsided to a more hopeful reddish-pink. She pressed around the wound, gently checking for swelling. She was startled when he abruptly grasped her hand, and thinking she had hurt him, quickly apologised, ‘Oh, I’m sorry! It’s still painful!’ She moved to let go, but he dragged her hand against his chest and held it tightly there as if for comfort.
‘No… you are here… happy now,’ he whispered, the effort almost too much, and closed his eyes. Fralii, happy also that he had finally said something intelligible, relaxed and lay down beside him, content in the knowledge that he was still alive, and with her.
Several hours had passed, Luminor sleeping peacefully, Fralii catching up on her sleep intermittently between checking on him, hoping he was truly recovering, and reflecting on the warm feelings she now had for this unusual man. During one of these observations, she was studying his face, more beautiful than a man should be, she thought; the finely-chiselled features seemed more angular and drawn from illness, the dark shadows under his closed eyes a contrast to the white-gold lashes resting there, when he opened his eyes, becoming more vividly green now, and gifted her with a brilliant white smile. It seemed the heavens were smiling! With a thrill of emotion, she knew he was really on the mend. She squeezed the hand that still held hers and exclaimed, her voice catching, ‘Lumi, I thought you were going to… die!’ He struggled to sit and she helped him.
‘I thought you were… taken again. Lying here… I could not save you!’ He seemed to be berating himself.
‘But… you did save me, from those beasts… and the leopard… you rescued me from the kidnappers! Where would I be now… without you? I am truly grateful!’ Fralii assured him.
He sighed thoughtfully, ‘Now… I think… you have s
aved me . . . I thank you. Kudros are deadly!’
They both had heard the stories—Luminor, first-hand from Thunis’ experience. Fralii commented on the wonderful mystery that he had indeed survived. Luminor guessed it may have been a certain immunity passed to him from his father, silently offering up his thanks for that boon.
Anyway, they both agreed it to be exceedingly good fortune, and that perhaps the Ancestors were smiling on them, for now.
Chapter Twenty-four
Fralii fed her patient the berries she had collected; the fact that they were somewhat squashed went unnoticed as, both ravenously hungry, they finished them in short order with the last two pieces of dried meat, and shared the remaining biscuit. A hearty draught of fresh spring water topped off the feast. The priority of course was to regain their strength, if they were to resume their journey on foot after the loss of the samblar, and survive.
After the meal, Luminor suddenly looked extremely pained. Fralii feared he had taken a turn for the worse. ‘Whatever is wrong, Lumi? Do you feel ill again?’
‘It hurts… so bad…’ he groaned, ‘I need…’ He fidgeted, trying to raise himself up. Fralii fussed uncertainly, trying to help him to sit, or be more comfortable, but he groaned again. She began to panic. He slumped back in defeat. ‘No… I am sorry… please help… too weak to get up . . .’