Warrior: The War Chronicles I

by Sean Golden

  Waist deep in the shallows of the mighty Fedon River, wearing only his breechcloth, Lirak splashed warm handfuls of water to wash off the morning’s blood, dust and gore. He gingerly washed his own dried blood from the still oozing gash in the back of his calf with a small chunk of soap. It was not deep, and would heal quickly, but it had been close. Too close. He briefly ducked down, submerging himself in the life-giving waters, and ran his fingers through his long black hair, freeing tangles and clearing it of dust and blood. Bursting back out of the water, he shook his head sharply left and right, creating an explosion of sparkles as the bright sun caught the shower of droplets.

  Everything he did angered Jerok, he scowled. And not for the first time Lirak seethed at the sneering reaction of Toldek and the others. Of Jerok’s friends, only Gawn seemed to accept Lirak. The rest had teased and taunted Lirak for years. The abuse had only gotten worse since they had learned about his dreams.

  Finally clean, Lirak turned to wade back to shore but then stopped suddenly in mid-stride. Mayrie sat alone on a small log which thrust out over the river, her earnest face framed by her flaming red hair, one leg lazily dangling into the water. Her simple buckskin dress stretched across her breasts and flared out from her hips in a way that made Lirak’s heart race.

  “Did you really kill that monster?” she asked as Lirak waded out of the water to where he had left his things.

  “Yes, of course I did,” Lirak said, feeling a blush starting to rise up his face.

  “How did you do it?” Mayrie’s green-flecked, hazel eyes shone and she leaned forward, focused on Lirak’s face.

  Lirak swallowed. “Well… I just tricked it a little.” Taking his leggings he dipped each one in the water, scrubbing them against each other, sending pink foam downstream as the soap suds, blood and grime came off.

  “Jerok said you had a dream about the bear.” Pulling her leg from the water, Mayrie watched while Lirak stood shaking the water off his leggings and gathered his gear.

  “Yes, that’s true,” Lirak said as Mayrie walked nimbly down the log to the bank where she stood face to face with him, her delicate, pale nose only inches from his own. Her scent was so like the scent of the forest, warm earthiness melded with the sweeter taste of flowers and wind-blown grass.

  “Was it one of those dreams?” Mayrie asked.

  Mayrie waited for an answer, but Lirak found nothing to say. His neck flushed red and he looked down at her feet.

  “I thought so.” Mayrie’s lips whitened as they formed a tight line and the muscle in her jaw bulged slightly. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then seemed to think better of it and shook her head instead.

  “This time was odd though,” Lirak said, his eyes focused far behind Mayrie as if looking into another world. “This time I changed the dream.”

  Mayrie’s eyes bored into Lirak’s for a moment. Then she looked away. “Well, this time you’ve really done it, I think,” Mayrie finally said, her voice low and serious, but her eyes flashed with what Lirak thought might be satisfaction.

  “I know,” Lirak sighed. “I didn’t have a choice.” His voice was tired and vulnerable. “They already blame me for the bear. I can’t understand it, but they do. At least now nobody else will get hurt.”

  Mayrie’s eyes radiated a deep sympathy. “You did what you must.” She paused and reached forward, taking his elbow in her hand. “Only a few call you bad luck. Some whisper that you are god-touched.” A slight frown pulled her full lips down at the corners. “I’ve missed you. Why don’t you tell me stories anymore? Why do you always go into the forest alone now? My bow needs more practice.”

  A resigned look flashed across Lirak’s face. “You know why.”

  “No I don’t Lirak.” The green flecks in Mayrie’s eyes seemed to flash. “I only know that you’re pushing me away.”

  “It’s for the best Mayrie, you don’t understand what…”

  “Stop it!” Mayrie’s voice lashed like a whip across Lirak’s heart. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you Lirak, but I’m not giving you up that easy.” Lirak winced as Mayrie’s hand squeezed the elbow Jerok had bruised.

  Mayrie’s eyes followed Lirak’s to her hand. “Oh! I’m sorry.” Mayrie abruptly removed her hand as she saw the newly forming bruise. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Hurt me?” Lirak asked, genuinely confused. “Jerok did that. How could you hurt me?”

  It was Mayrie’s turn to find no words. The two stood in awkward silence for a moment. Drawing a deep breath Mayrie sighed. “We better get back to the village, I’m sure the elders will want to talk to you. But you better get it through your head that I’m not that easy to push away.”

  With that they walked from the water’s edge into the circle of wooden, thatch-roofed huts that made up the bulk of the Dwon village of Luh-Yi. The joy Lirak would once have felt to be walking with Mayrie was overshadowed by the gulf his dreams had placed between them.

  Elders’ Judgment

  Vurl the lawgiver taught men to rule themselves. It was Vurl who judged the unNamed one guilty and cast him into darkness. Vurl guards the gate to the underworld. His anger melts the rock and raises the mountains.

  – Dwon oral tradition

  As they approached the center of the village, Mayrie gave Lirak’s hand a short encouraging squeeze and then moved off to join her friend Tarii, leaving Lirak just as Jerok and their mother Soonya joined him. Jerok’s eyes followed Mayrie and his face darkened as he scowled at Lirak.

  “Kodul has called the elders together.” Soonya’s normally smooth brown face was lined with worry. Her thick black hair bounced with each purposeful step, and her gray eyes had a haunted look to them.

  “They’ll want to know about your dreams.” Jerok’s anger was still evident in his voice. “You never should have told anyone about them.”

  Lirak stopped, forcing Jerok and Soonya to stop as well. Soonya reached out to take his hand, but Lirak shook her off and faced Jerok. “Why do you accuse me like this? I warned them about the bear, and after they ignored my warnings, they accused me of calling the bear to the village! Then I asked you to come with me to kill the bear, but you treated me like a child.”

  “You are a child!” Jerok said. Soonya looked around at the gathering villagers, her neck and cheeks beginning to flush with color.

  “Gawn and I could have dealt with the bear,” Jerok said, lowering his voice, but keeping the same harsh intensity. “You had no business leaving the village after being told to stay.”

  “You had two chances,” Lirak said. “And you aren’t my father.”

  “I am the head of the family now, and you will do as I say!” Jerok snapped, his face reddening in his anger.

  “Please, please stop arguing!” Soonya pleaded. “Lirak has been called by the elders. This can wait.”

  Jerok glared at Lirak, and Lirak responded with a cold gaze of his own.

  “This is not over,” Jerok said, and stalked away.

  Soonya sighed heavily, again reaching for Lirak’s hand. “Why do you bait him? You know he’s right.”

  Lirak avoided his mother’s hand, and his voice was tight but controlled. “Ever since his Ko’dimen, he’s been nothing but a bully. I’m tired of him pushing me around.”

  “You’re not used to having a man in the family, since your father went away.” Soonya looked down. “Jerok has responsibilities, and he has his own desires. You don’t know what he hears in the Dimeni hut, what some say about you and…” Soonya’s voice trailed off for a moment, then she continued, “and your dreams frighten him too,” she almost whispered.

  Lirak looked at his mother as comprehension began to dawn. Ever since his dreams had begun, Lirak had spent a great deal of time wondering and worrying what they meant to him. Soonya’s words suddenly made him think about what his dreams meant to his family and the village; and to Mayrie. “I’m sorry Mother; I don’t understand why the dreams come. And I can’t stop them, I’ve tried.”

  Soo
nya took his hand in hers and patted it lightly. “The dreams frighten people Lirak. But I don’t worry about what others say, I only worry what the dreams mean. I’m an old woman. But Jerok is just learning to be a man, and that’s never easy. Jerok finds it hard to ignore the whispers. Toldek and the others tease him. And he misses his father.”

  “He blames me for Father leaving,” Lirak said.

  Soonya fell silent, and the two walked on to face the elders. Lirak was worried, though he gave no outward sign. A summons from the elders usually meant punishment, and punishment for disobeying the head of a family could be severe. But Lirak was more worried about the elders’ reaction to his dreams. Walking side by side with Soonya, they passed through the outer ring of huts and made their way to the elders’ hut. Villagers milled around and murmured in small groups, some threw furtive glances at Lirak. Some even placed crossed fingers on their foreheads, using Rysdun’s ward against evil magic. Lirak saw these things, but refused to react to them. Jerok, Toldek, Gawn and a few other of Jerok’s group stopped beside the large table against the Dimeni hut, talking and pointing in Lirak’s direction.

  The elders’ hut was at the very center of the village. A large, round wooden building, ten strides across in the middle, with the typical Dwon thatched roof. There was no center pole as most Dwon huts had. Instead the walls were reinforced on the inside with stout oaken posts. Lashed to the top of the posts were long poles which were interwoven and bowed upwards, forming the bottom of the thatched roof. Smoke from a small fire made its way through a hole punched through the thatch along the northernmost edge of the hut. The walls were covered with leather scraped clean and tanned upon which scenes of Dwon life were painted. Placed evenly around the hut were six windows, openings which could be covered with leather flaps, but which were open now to allow light to fill the hut.

  Five heavy wooden chairs ranged around the hut, each facing the center, and in each chair sat one of the elders. Kodul sat in the center chair, facing the door. His chair was ancient, its surface polished and worn from generations of elders. Kodul’s chair was carved with all of the Dwon totems, but with the eagle spreading its wings and stretching its head above the back of the chair. Each of the other chairs was heavy but plain, except for a single carving of one of the four other Dwon totems: bear, salmon, raven or wolf.

  Kodul’s bald head and protruding ears caused many Luh-Yi children to laugh, and Kodul laughed with them. His bulbous nose added to the comical effect. But there was no shrewder person Lirak had ever known. Chutan sat to Kodul’s left in the wolf chair, his normally pale, wrinkled face looking like the bark of an ancient redwood in the light spilling into the room. To Chutan’s left in the raven chair sat Traze, Mayrie’s grandfather. Traze’s hair no longer had the bright flame of youth, but in the dim light of the hut it looked like a smoldering ember.

  Asok the dwarf sat to Kodul’s right in the bear chair. Twisted and stunted, Asok’s body perched on the chair like some grotesque child, but the eyes in that contorted face radiated compassion and intelligence. Sampt, sitting to Asok’s right in the salmon chair, was the youngest elder, newly raised to the position when old Bran had succumbed to a fever. Sampt’s lean, pale face seemed young, yet his loins counted two generations as was required for an elder. He licked his pallid lips nervously, and only looked at Lirak from the corner of his one good eye.

  All eyes were on Kodul when he motioned towards Lirak. “Lirak, please come forward,” he said. Soonya released Lirak’s arm as he moved to the center of the hut and waited.

  “Lirak, your dreams and actions with the bear concern us,” Kodul said, his voice calm and even and his eyes showing sympathy. “In part this is our own fault for having avoided addressing your dreams for this long.”

  Lirak heard Soonya’s quick nervous breath behind him.

  “But first, tell us your story,” Kodul said, leaning back in his chair.

  Lirak looked around at each of the elders. Traze smiled slightly as he met Lirak’s eyes, making Lirak feel more at ease. But that feeling went away when he saw Sampt’s sweaty, fear-lined face. Sampt, Lirak knew, was one of the villagers who called Lirak cursed. The left side of his face was scarred, and he tended to look at things with his head tilted toward his good eye, reminding Lirak of one of the forest ground-birds. Right now that one good eye was looking anywhere but at Lirak.

  “My story starts when the great bear first appeared,” Lirak started. “When Paonil was mauled everyone in the village knew the bear was a danger. When Koltar’s daughter Risa went missing, everyone knew it was the bear.” The elders nodded.

  “The night of the first hunting party’s failure, I had a dream. In that dream I saw the bear and followed it as it moved through the forest. On two nights since I have had the same dream and the bear moved through the same part of the forest. I tried to tell Jerok and others about this, but they would not listen.” Lirak paused for a reaction, but the elders remained silent. “Last night I had a new dream. In the dream I went to kill the bear. I shot it with arrows and it chased me. I ran and jumped off a cliff, and the bear chased me off the cliff.”

  “That was all?” Kodul asked. Sampt loudly cleared his throat and coughed.

  “No.” Lirak licked his lips nervously. “It’s hard to explain. Sometimes my dreams seem to have a meaning.” He paused, embarrassed to continue. “I thought the dream was telling me to sacrifice myself for the village, but I didn’t want to die,” he said. “As I walked through the forest, I had an idea. If the bear would follow me off a cliff, but I had a rope hanging down, I could stop my own fall while the bear could not. So I tied my rope to a branch overhanging a cliff, then I cut some brush to hide the cliff edge. I killed a small deer and placed it under a tree where the bear would smell it and come out of the forest to feed.” Lirak quickly told the rest of the story, ending with his confrontation with Jerok.

  There was a long silence in the tent. Kodul finally stood up and gestured to Lirak and Soonya. “Wait outside,” he said.

  Lirak and Soonya waited in the hot sun while the murmuring of the elders came through the door. Occasionally a voice would be raised, but they could hear no words. Several times Lirak was sure he heard Sampt’s nasal tones raised in anger. Eventually, as the sun neared the distant western mountains, Kodul appeared at the door and beckoned them back inside. Soon Lirak was again in the middle of the hut.

  “First let us deal with the matter of your disobedience,” Kodul said. With that he leaned back and Traze leaned forward, his lean and leathery face showing the strain of the elders’ recent debate.

  “Disobeying a head of the family is usually left for the family to resolve, but your situation is different,” Traze said. “Your father is gone, and Jerok is young and prone to anger. Yet he has completed his Ko’dimen and is now the head of your family. You must accept this Lirak. It is our way. For your disobedience of Jerok you will be confined to the village until the endsummer moon.” Traze sat back while Lirak’s mind raced. Endsummer moon was still many days away. The full moon marked the harvest festival, one of the most important days in village life.

  “Furthermore,” pounced Sampt, somewhat triumphantly, “You will do all of Jerok’s chores in addition to your own for that period.” Traze grimaced, but nodded.

  Lirak heard Soonya sigh and realized that this was a light punishment. He bowed and said “Thank you for your wisdom.” Lirak wryly thought that doing Jerok’s chores would actually be a welcome distraction from being forbidden to enter the forest.

  “There is more,” said Kodul. He paused and took a deep breath. “As I said, the matter of your dreams is a more…” Kodul seemed to be searching for the right words, finally ending with “…complicated situation.”

  The hut grew silent, and none of the elders except Traze would meet his gaze. His mother’s breathing was fast and Lirak could feel her trembling behind him.

  “Too often such dreams are the lies of the unNamed one,” said Kodul. “It is the Dwon way for
dreams like these to be tested.”

  “Tested?” Lirak asked.

  Kodul stood up and walked toward Lirak.

  “Lirak, you are an eagle totem,” he began “and we elders have watched you grow. The eagle totem is a difficult totem. The prophecies speak of eagle totem dreamers and the tests they will face. I had hoped that you would be spared from the burden, but your dreams prove that is not to be.”

  He reached out and placed his hand on Lirak’s shoulder. “This isn’t a punishment Lirak. This is part of the purpose of the Dwon. It is our part in the prophecies. Each eagle totem dreamer must be tested. We are now certain that your dreams are spirit dreams, and so you must be put to the test.”

  “And if I fail?” Lirak asked.

  Kodul did not answer immediately. Lirak looked around the room, but none of the elders would meet his gaze. This was what he had feared since he began having the strange dreams.

  “What happens if I fail the test?” Lirak pressed.

  “Some have not returned.” Sampt smirked.

  “No!” Soonya whispered fiercely. “Not Lirak too! It’s not fair! I won’t let you!”

  “Soonya, this is not your choice,” Chutan said sternly, but his face showed his concern.

  “I won’t let you!” Soonya hissed. “You can’t have him too!” Soonya rushed to Lirak and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. “No! It’s not fair!” Her voice rose, and villagers began to gather outside the hut. “Not again! Not again.”

  “Mother! What is it?” Jerok’s concerned voice came from outside, but Soonya was beyond speaking, simply clutching Lirak fiercely and keening softly.

  Lirak gently hugged his mother and with numb hands slowly pushed her away.

  “Jerok, please take Mother home,” he said. Jerok’s head appeared in the doorway and Kodul nodded.