Warrior: The War Chronicles I

by Sean Golden

  Soon, in the middle of the bloody, dusty path that had once been the village’s main walkway, a figure could be seen. A young woman, dressed in the manner of Lirak’s village. Her hair was wildly unkempt and so filthy it was impossible to tell its color, and her buckskin dress was tattered and smudged with blood, dirt and stains. She carried a bow with an arrow nocked and ready, and she swiveled her head around as if searching for something, or someone. So filthy and disheveled was she that Lirak didn’t recognize her until she was no more than a dozen paces away. Even then it was the red arrow feathers that first gave him hope. Still she had not seen him or Thorn, both hidden in the debris of the fallen hut. Lirak’s heart leapt with sudden certainty.

  “Mayrie!” he called, leaping up.

  Mayrie lifted the bow up and drew back the string in one motion, her eyes wild, and Lirak realized she was going to shoot. He desperately dove toward the rubble of the hut as the arrow sang past his right ear.

  “Mayrie! It’s me, Lirak! Lirak!” he shouted.

  “What?” Mayrie sounded dazed, confused. “Who?”

  “It’s Lirak!” Lirak shouted, cautiously rising from behind the rubble. “I’m back from the mountains! I brought the firestones.”

  Mayrie stood looking at Lirak as if he were something that had just materialized out of thin air. “Lirak?” she said, her voice a bare whisper. “Lirak? It can’t be.” And with that, the bow slipped from her fingers and she collapsed in a heap on the ground. She fell awkwardly and her legs splayed out, folded at the knees. Lirak saw that her legs were raw and covered with bloody scabs on the inside of her thighs. He reddened in shame and embarrassment for Mayrie, for his mother, and for his village.

  He went over to Mayrie and straightened her legs as gingerly as he could. Then he sat down beside her and cradled her head in his lap. Her face he had once thought beautiful, but now it was bruised and bleeding, one eye swollen almost shut, her lips cut and raw. Her cheek looked like it had been bitten. He saw that her scalp was raw where someone had ripped the handful of hair out. He felt tears well up in his eyes and drip down onto her face. Her eyes twitched, but she didn’t wake up.

  “Oh Mayrie, what has happened to you?” He said. He leaned forward and hugged her face to his chest, his breath coming in gasping sobs. “I’ll kill them!” he said. “I’ll kill every last one of them for this!” He sobbed, his whole body shaking in his sorrow and rage. “I swear on Faydah’s Web that they’ll pay!” For a long time he sat holding Mayrie’s shoulders and head, sobbing uncontrollably.

  Again it was Thorn who warned him. He heard footsteps, this time running into the village. He knew he had no time to hide, and no way to hide Mayrie. He grabbed Mayrie’s bow, and pulled an arrow from his quiver and readied himself to die fighting.

  “Lirak!” the voice was unmistakably that of his brother Jerok.

  “Lirak! Thank Kathoias you’re back!” Jerok said, sliding to a stop beside him.

  “Jerok?” Lirak said. “What happened here?” He dropped the bow and again wrapped his arms around Mayrie.

  “I don’t know,” Jerok said. “I was hunting the river-pig for your Ko’dimen, the elders said you would probably be back sometime in the next few days. I had to go far down the river. I saw something strange on the river, like floating huts. And they were full of these men and beasts that the men sat on. One went up the river past me, and I hid from it. I waited but they didn’t come back, so I decided to come back to the village and speak to the elders.” Jerok paused. “Is she dead?”

  “What?” Lirak said. He felt like he was living in a dream. He realized he was living a dream. He was living his own nightmares.

  “Her, is she dead? Who is she?”

  Lirak looked down, and saw that he held Mayrie’s head against his chest. He relaxed and laid her head gently back onto his thigh.

  “Oh, it’s Mayrie.” Jerok’s voice sounded thin, as the sounds had been high on the Gap. “Is she dead?”

  Lirak sadly looked down at her. “No, but she may wish to be.”

  Jerok looked around the village. “Where is everybody? Why does it smell like meat cooking? What happened to the village? Where is Mother?”

  Lirak looked at Jerok. He was having trouble understanding how Jerok could not know.

  “Dead, they are all dead,” Lirak said.

  “I saw a dead body on the way from the river,” Jerok said, and Lirak realized that Jerok was on the thin edge of panic himself. He seemed unwilling to accept what his eyes and nose were telling him. He sat beside Lirak, and seemed to see Thorn for the first time, but made no comment. Instead he just gazed dully at the cub.

  “Jerok.” Lirak took Jerok’s arm in his hand. “Everyone is dead. They were dead when I returned. Many were burned or disfigured so that I couldn’t recognize them. I don’t know if Mother was one of them.”

  Jerok looked around, his face contorted in confusion.

  “The men from the floating huts did this?” Jerok asked.

  “I think so,” Lirak said.

  “What will we do now?” Jerok said. “Where will we go? Where will we live?”

  “I’ll live for vengeance,” Lirak said coldly. “I won’t rest until they are dead. I’ll follow them to the ends of the world. They’ll pay for this.”

  Jerok looked at Lirak as if he had never seen him before. He backed away a little and pulled his arm free.

  “How?” Jerok asked. “Will you live in the forest? Will you become a wild animal? Is this” he flicked his hand at Thorn, who hissed sharply, “your spirit guide? What is it? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Lirak began to answer, but at that moment Mayrie stirred.

  “Lirak…?” she muttered.

  “Yes Mayrie, I’m here,” Lirak said, gently stroking her face with his fingers. “You’re safe now.”

  “Lirak, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t stop them.” Her voice broke and her chest heaved as she tried to breathe through racking sobs. “I tried, I tried so hard.”

  “Shhh Mayrie,” Lirak said. “You’re safe now. They’re gone.” He hugged her and rocked her. Mayrie reached around and hugged him tightly, still sobbing.

  “They… they took me…” She sobbed…. “Again and again… they hurt me so bad…. I wanted to die.”

  “Shhh…” Lirak said. “We have to leave and find shelter.”

  “Oh Lirak, I can’t live now. I’m dead already. I have nothing to live for.” Mayrie’s voice was low and monotone her eyes were closed. She held her right arm stiffly against her side.

  “No, Mayrie, you’re alive. You’re with me and Jerok. We’ll be safe. They’ll pay for their evil.”

  Mayrie stopped sobbing. “How will they pay, Lirak? What can they possibly give to make up for this?”

  Lirak took her face and looked into her eyes.

  “Their lives, Mayrie, they’ll give us their lives.”

  Mayrie looked at Lirak, then at Jerok. She looked back at Lirak. “You mean you’ll hunt them?”

  Lirak said, “I have sworn to Faydah.”

  Mayrie’s sharp intake of breath was sobering. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw set. “Yes Lirak, I too take that oath. To death with them. To death with all of them. I’ll live for that.”

  Jerok looked at the two of them. He paused for a moment, and then he said “Death to them. Death to all of them! Death!” The last word was a high-pitched shout that echoed off the trees around the village.

  “Let’s get to some shelter,” Lirak said.

  Mayrie flinched and cried out as Jerok took her right arm, and as he let go she sagged against Lirak.

  “It hurts,” she moaned, “it hurts so much.” Then she passed out.

  Forest Camp

  When the Seven had completed their labors the earth was pure and the stars were bright. Six rested from their labors. One did not. In the quiet of the birth of the world, he drew forth the unborn, and swore them to his service. When the Six awoke, his treachery was discovered and the
y made war upon one another.

  – The Prophecies.

  The three survivors went deep into the forest. They carefully covered their tracks as well as possible. Thorn had left them. Lirak wondered if he would be back, he had developed a fondness for the growing cub, and hoped he would return. Between fainting spells, Mayrie tried to walk on her own, but she needed help from Lirak or Jerok. She gasped and moaned frequently as she walked, but she refused to allow Lirak or Jerok to carry her while she was awake. She favored her right side and rarely moved her right arm.

  Jerok was quiet, and Lirak sometimes caught Jerok looking at him, and then looking quickly away. The behavior bothered him, but he had no idea of what to do about it, so he tried to ignore it. As they walked, Lirak gathered some of the healing herbs he thought he recognized, hoping they would help Mayrie. Eventually they decided to camp in one of Lirak and Jerok’s hunting campsites, a small hollowed out area between two large boulders that made up the bulk of a small hill. Inside the small cave it was dry and spacious enough for the three of them to sleep.

  Lirak and Jerok quickly made a soft bed from boughs and leaves and lay Mayrie down on it. Within moments Mayrie was asleep. Then the two of them sat down on the hard earth inside the cave to rest for a moment. Lirak described his discovery of the dead bodies and his stacking and burning of the bodies. Jerok nodded and gave an account of his own return to the village, including describing the strange men. To Lirak it was like Jerok was describing his own dreams.

  With that Lirak sat upright and dug into his bag removing the herbs he had gathered. “Mother earth!” he swore quietly.

  “What is it?” Jerok asked.

  “We need to treat Mayrie’s wounds” Lirak said. Looking around he gathered some loose dirt and moss, and then he mixed in the herbs and used a stick to grind them into a pulp. He poured a little water on the mixture to thin it down, and then he scooped as much as he could onto a broad leaf.

  “Here, help me” he said, moving over to Mayrie, who still slept soundly. With Jerok’s help they gingerly removed her dress, cutting it away where needed to keep from moving her too much. Lirak drew in a sharp breath as he saw the young woman’s naked body. Her left side was scratched deeply in several places, and her right side had dark and ugly bruises. Her breasts were scratched and looked like they had been bitten in places. Her thighs were red and raw and blood still oozed from deep scratches. There were other injuries.

  “Vurl’s breath!” swore Jerok “She looks like she’s been attacked by a pack of dogs!”

  “She was,” Lirak said.

  Mayrie moaned in her sleep, and her arms and legs flailed weakly, as if she were fighting off a dream. But then she settled down again. Lirak used his water skin and cleaned out the visible wounds as best as he could. When he touched her right side where it was bruised, Mayrie cried out in her sleep and flinched away.

  “I think she has a broken rib,” Lirak said. “She’s a lot stronger than she looks, it could not have been easy to walk, and it probably hurt more to lean on us. I don’t know if I would have made it so far, beaten up like this.”

  Jerok said “I can bind up her ribs to keep it from hurting more, but I need something to work with.”

  “Here, cut up my shirt,” Lirak said, stripping it off and handing it to Jerok.

  Jerok took the shirt and cut it into long flat strips while Lirak spread as much of the poultice as he could on Mayrie’s wounds.

  “What… what are you doing?!” Mayrie had woken up and panic was in her voice. She jerked back, but the movement sent a spasm of pain through her side, and she lay back gasping for air.

  “NO! No! Don’t!” her voice was weak, but Lirak and Jerok could hear the terror in it.

  Lirak took her hands and held them firmly, but gently. “It’s Lirak and Jerok, Mayrie. We’re trying to clean your wounds.”

  “Lirak?” Mayrie seemed to be calming down. She looked down at her naked body. “You took my dress off? How dare you!” Lirak let go of her hands and she covered herself with her arms, gasping as she moved her right arm.

  “Mayrie, we had to do it, you know what can happen if those kinds of cuts aren’t treated. We didn’t even know if you were ever going to wake up if we didn’t do something.”

  Mayrie looked at Lirak and tears formed and spilled down her bruised and tattered cheeks. “But it’s not right for a man to see a woman this way. Not like this. Not like this…”

  “You have a broken rib; we need to bind it so it will heal,” he said.

  Mayrie sobbed brokenly for a few moments, but then visibly gathered herself. “How do you bind it?” she asked.

  Jerok held up the strips from her old dress, “We need to wrap these around your ribs and tie it tight.”

  Mayrie looked at Lirak. “Under my dress?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mayrie, under your dress. But we can do it from behind you too, if you can help pull it tight and keep it flat for us.”

  “Do you need to do it now?” she asked.

  “The sooner the better,” Jerok said.

  “OK, I guess you’re right. Help me turn around and promise you’ll stay behind me to do it.”

  “We will” Jerok said.

  It took a while, and Mayrie cried out in pain several times as they wrapped her ribs with the supple buckskin.

  Lirak handed her the torn and cut dress. Then he turned his back. Jerok followed suit. Mayrie struggled to put on the dress and could not help moaning and gasping.

  “What’s wrong?” Lirak asked.

  “It hurts.” Mayrie gasped. “There, I’m done, you can turn around now.”

  Mayrie sat with her back against the wall. The dress was on, but Mayrie had to hold it together. Lirak quickly tied some of the torn ends together, and then took Mayrie’s left hand.

  “Thank you” Mayrie said to both of them. “I’m sorry I was angry at you. I know you were trying to help me. I just… it’s just…” She trailed off into silence.

  “We know Mayrie. We understand,” Lirak said. “Good night, we all need some rest. It’s been an evil time; the worst days of our lives. But not the last day as it was for so many.”

  Mayrie was already fading into sleep as Lirak spoke, and soon she was sleeping soundly.

  “Jerok, I need to head back to the village, do you mind finishing up the camp?” Lirak asked.

  “Why? What do you need from the village?” Jerok responded.

  “I need to find another shirt, get Mayrie a decent dress, and I want to get some things to tan this hide.” He tapped the rolled up pelt with his foot. “We’re going to be here a few days at least while Mayrie recovers, and I’d rather do something useful to keep me busy.”

  “OK, but be careful, we don’t want a lot of tracks leading to the camp,” Jerok said.

  “I know, I’ll be careful,” Lirak said.

  “Hey, Lirak” Jerok said suddenly.

  “What Jerok?”

  “I missed you, and I’m really glad you’re safe and here with me. We need to stick together, so don’t get yourself hurt or lost, OK?” Jerok clasped Lirak’s forearm with his hand. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Lirak impulsively reached his left arm around and hugged his older brother tightly. “I’m glad you’re here too. I missed you too, and I’m sure you’d have done better getting the firestones, I almost got killed.”

  Jerok chuckled, and then seemed embarrassed to have shown any sign of mirth under the circumstances. “I’m sure you did as well as anyone could have Lirak, you’re smart and strong. They chose right.” But as he said the words, he blinked and looked away.

  Lirak turned to leave, and was surprised to see Thorn coming around a large tree. His paws and muzzle were red with blood, and he was licking his muzzle as he walked.

  “Well Thorn, I guess that solves the problem of how to feed you!” Lirak said. Thorn walked up to Lirak and rubbed his shoulder on Lirak’s knee. When Lirak walked away from the camp, Thorn fell in beside him as if they were co
mfortable old friends.

  Returning to the village Lirak was careful to take a different path than he and Jerok had used to reach the camp, stopping frequently to listen. He had developed a habit of reaching down with his right hand to scratch Thorn’s ears, which Thorn seemed to find agreeable. But he heard nothing and saw nothing other than the normal forest sounds. Once he heard the cry of an eagle, far away and the sound somehow reminded him of his oath.

  The village was just as he had left it. Most of the huts were burned or damaged, but a few were still standing. He searched through them, eventually finding a suitable set of clothing to replace his damaged shirt and travel-stained leggings. He put them on and rolled up his old leggings. He also found an extra set of clothes for Jerok and Mayrie, and a pack to carry things. Then he went to Bok’s hut, which was heavily damaged, but luckily rock is hard to burn. He found many blades Bok had chipped, and of those he took the two best. He also gathered all the arrowheads that he could find. Then he gathered up salt and other items used for tanning hides. Finally he had everything he thought he could carry and make use of.

  It was now starting to get dark, and he knew Jerok was probably getting worried. Thorn seemed eager to get moving also. Lirak took a long look at the burned and ruined remnants of the village, the only home he had ever known, and with a sigh he turned and melted into the gloom of the forest.

  It was getting very dark by the time Lirak made his way back to the camp. Even from close to the boulders he could see no sign of the camp behind bushes which shielded the opening. If Lirak had not known where it was from previous visits, he might not have found the camp. He ducked under and around the bushes and inside he found a small but cozy fire burning in one corner. Jerok had built the nearly smokeless fire where it could not be seen from the outside. He had also brought in material to make reasonably soft beds for each of them. Mayrie lay on her left side, her breathing deep and regular. Jerok was busy by the fire. He had unrolled the pelt and was examining it critically.