Legends of the Saloli: Vengeance and Mercy

by Adam Bolander

  Blaze hesitated for a moment, then nodded, “Come on, let’s go home.”

  Chapter Nine

  Blaze could hear the surprised muttering as he ran back into Icefire’s camp, Smallthorn and Dust directly behind him. It was to be expected. He’d been gone almost an entire five days, after all. Ignoring them, he ran straight to Rust.

  “Blaze!” the chief said, astounded at his sudden appearance, “You’re back! Where have you been?”

  “You’re not going to believe what’s going on.” Blaze began, wasting no time in getting to the point, “Darkcover has taken over Groundsky’s territory.”

  Rust’s eyes grew large, “No.” he said, “They couldn’t have. Darkcover’s fighting force isn’t strong enough!”

  “They did.” Blaze insisted, “Darkcover know controls half of the forest. But that isn’t all! They’ve been kidnapping saloli from all the other tribes, and keeping them in a canyon in Groundsky’s old territory. They call it the war prison.”

  Rust looked away and bit his lip at this news, obviously very disturbed, “How many were in there?”

  “Too many to count.”

  “But you managed to escape?”

  “There was a breakout. I think everyone got away.” Blaze paused. This seemed as good a time as ever to introduce the Darkcover saloli. He motioned to him with his tail, “It was Dust that masterminded it. If it weren’t for him, we’d all still be in there.”

  When Rust saw that Dust was from Darkcover, his eyes widened in rage. He calmed down when he heard what Blaze had told him, though. “You are a Darkcover saloli, Dust.” He said, suspiciously, “Why would you help us?”

  “Because Goliath murdered my brother.” Dust said without hesitation, “He killed him for disobeying one of his orders. We’d both had our suspicions about him, ever since he came to be our chief, but we never thought that he’d stoop so low as to kill one of his own saloli. It showed me what he truly was, then. He’s no saloli, he’s a monster, and I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him down.”

  “Well, if that truly is your motivation, then you are welcome here,” Rust nodded, seemingly satisfied, and turned back to Blaze, “Did you recognize anybody else while you were there?”

  “Only Razor.” Blaze reported, “He was in charge of guarding the prison. He’s dead now.”

  Rust looked at Blaze with new interest, “You killed him?”

  “Not really, we fell into the river, and he went over the waterfall.”

  “Did anyone else die?”

  “Just one other saloli I killed, I think. All the others ran away.”

  A new respect appeared in Rust’s eyes, “This is the first time you’ve ever killed another saloli, isn’t it?”

  With a start, Blaze realized that his chief was right. He’d never killed another saloli before. The only creature he’d ever killed was Flame, and he’d been a fox. Today, he’d ended another saloli’s life. Dizziness came over him, and he swayed where he stood, “I killed another saloli,” he said, “I killed my own kind.”

  “Blaze, I think you need to lie down.” Rust said, worried that his newly returned tribemate was about to faint.

  Without warning, Blaze opened his mouth and dry retched, not having eaten anything that day. All he could see was the poor saloli’s throat being torn open, blood being spilled on the ground, and the light fading from his eyes. Blaze thought he might even taste his blood on his tongue, and he retched again. It was just too much, and he fell onto his side, closed his eyes, and allowed the comforting darkness to take him.

  Chapter Ten

  Goliath gazed down at the canyon that had, just earlier that day, been home to hundreds of saloli, and growled in disgust. Now only one saloli remained, lying dead on the ground with his throat torn open. Razor had died today as well. Not that it mattered; the traitor had been nothing but a failure in everything he did. He was tempted to feel disappointment, and had to keep reminding himself that the day’s events were exactly what he had planned to happen. Everything except one.

  “You’re upset,” Mordred said, sensing his chief’s sour mood, “I take it the outsider managed to get away with the others?”

  “Yes,” Goliath confirmed, “but it doesn’t matter. Now that my prisoners have returned to their tribes, word of my power will spread through the forest like a wildfire. My name will strike fear into the hearts of my enemies, and weaken their will to oppose me.”

  “What of the Sword?”

  Goliath was glad that Mordred was blind so that he couldn’t see him flinch at his words. “We don’t necessarily need to fear him yet. Sol managed to convert Rascom to his side. Perhaps we can do the same.”

  “And what of the outsider?”

  “I just told you he doesn’t matter!” Goliath snapped. “He is not the Sword, so I have no reason to fear him. He will die alongside all his foolish friends, and I will enjoy watching his blood spill onto the ground very much.”

  Mordred could tell that his chief was unnerved, no matter how strong he made himself out to be. He truly was afraid of the outsider. Interesting. . .

  “If I may make a suggestion, my chief.” He spoke up.

  “If you must.”

  “Let your enemies rest themselves for a while. Give them time to lower their guard. Then, when they least expect it, use your greatest advantage.”

  Goliath looked at his prophet with a new interest as the air pulsed around them with the sound of leather wings.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sunlight gently caressed Blaze’s eyelids, stirring him from his sleep. Where was he? His brain was still fuzzy from his nap. Wait, had it even been a nap? No, he’d fainted. Yeah, that’s what had happened. But why? Blaze felt his brain begin to drift back into dreamland, and decided that, whatever had happened, it could wait another few hours.

  Prison.

  Blaze’s eyes shot open, and he was on his paws in an instant. His heart beat like a drum, and his claws were bared, prepared to attack anyone close to him.

  “Blaze, calm down!” somebody said from behind him.

  In his sudden rush of adrenaline, Blaze could barely recognize the voice, but turned around to see who it was anyway. It was Faith, standing on the edge of the branch, a worried look in her eyes. Seeing no immediate threat, his body began to calm itself until his fur lay flat again. Faith cautiously made her way towards him.

  “Are you okay now?” she asked. Still breathing hard, Blaze nodded, and a touch of sympathy came into Faith’s eyes, “You thought you were still in the prison, didn’t you?”

  “Y-yeah. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” He replied.

  Faith shook her head in disgust, “Curse Goliath. There is no wickeder creature in this forest.”

  Her words caught Blaze’s attention. This was not the first misdeed Goliath had committed in this forest. Something had happened before, and Blaze wanted to know what. Whatever it was may hold a clue to defeating Darkcover’s chief once and for all. He couldn’t ask Faith, though. She had already made it clear that only Rust could impart that information.

  “You may want to go see Smallthorn soon.” Faith advised, “I’m sure he is quite heartbroken at the moment.” Before Blaze could ask why, the prophet gave him a severe look and said, “Newthorn’s funeral is to be held within the hour.”

  Without another word, Blaze raced down the tree trunk and began to search the camp for his friend. Unsurprisingly, he found him at the center of camp, where Newthorn’s corpse had been moved. Slowing to a calm walk, he approached the mourning saloli quietly, not wanting to interrupt the solemn moment. Smallthorn did not even look up as he was joined by his friend. Blaze wanted desperately to say something that would comfort his friend, show that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed, but kept his mouth shut. Speaking would only make things worse. They remained still for ten minutes, then Smallthorn spoke.

  “Thank you.” He said.

  “For what?” Blaze asked, confused.

  “For helpin
g me avenge her. If you hadn’t rescued me, I would have been swept over the waterfall along with Razor. I swore I would kill that filthy traitor, but I guess Valde Abbas wanted to do it himself.”

  Blaze was tempted to tell his friend that it wasn’t solely for his sake that he’d fought the traitor, but decided to keep his mouth shut. It would only do harm to say so. Right now, Smallthorn needed comfort and a shoulder to cry on, and Blaze was determined to provide both.

  “Wherever she is now, I’m sure she’s happy,” Blaze said.

  With a sniffle, Smallthorn finally looked at his friend, “I know,” he replied, his voice a hoarse whisper, “but I won’t be. Not until I meet her again up there.”

  Sadness chewed at Blaze’s heart. He felt torn now. Torn between pitying his friend for his loss, and worry that their friendship would never be the same after tonight. Though he felt bad for thinking it, he had to question his own desire to be best friends with a saloli who never felt happiness. Wait, there was one reason that Smallthorn could still be happy!

  “What about Springthorn?” Blaze asked, “He’s missed you very much.”

  Smallthorn flinched visibly, “I. . . I. . .” He sighed, “I’ll handle it.”

  Before Blaze could question what he meant by “handle it,” Rust came to their side, “It’s time,” he said softly.

  Smallthorn nodded solemnly, and backed away. Rust leapt onto the speaking stone, and gathered the tribe, “Icefire!” he called, “tonight we gather to mourn the loss of a great saloli. Newthorn was brave, strong, and loyal to her friends and family. She leaves behind a mate, a son, a brother, and a tribe full of friends. Her untimely death was brought upon her by the traitor Razor, who poisoned her. The poison caused her body to go beyond her control, and she attacked Blaze. Regrettably, she had to be killed by her own mate, Smallthorn. But know this: I will not have any saloli in Icefire believe that Newthorn was evil. She was one of the kindest, most loving saloli I ever met. The reason she was poisoned was because she diverted Razor’s attention as he was about to kill Blaze. Though she did not know it, she had just given her life for another Icefire saloli. I am certain that, for that, she is proud.”

  Bowing his head in respect, Rust leapt down from the stone. A group of saloli surrounded Newthorn’s body and placed white flower petals on the ground around her. A line was formed, with Smallthorn in the front, followed by Blaze. Smallthorn came forward, and placed his paw on Newthorn’s brow. He paused for a minute, his eyes shining with grief and love, and then forced himself to move on. Blaze quickly followed suit, allowing all the happy memories of their friendship to pass through his mind. Then he, too, moved on. It took nearly an hour, but all of Icefire eventually had paid their respects to their fallen comrade. Faith then came forward, carrying a smoldering stick in her jaws, and touched one end to the flower petals. Immediately, they ignited, rising up in a ring around Newthorn. They began to swirl around the dead saloli, creating a tornado of fire. Time passed, and the saloli of Icefire watched in grieving silence. Finally, the spinning slowed, and the flames began to dull until they were nonexistent. Newthorn was gone, her physical body unmade so that she could enter Valde Abbas’ castle beyond the sunrise.

  It was obvious that Smallthorn was restraining himself, so that he would not howl in anguish. Blaze desperately wanted to comfort him, to say something that would make all his pain go away, but he knew that anything he said right then would only make it worse. The rest of Icefire dispersed in silence, but the two friends remained where they were. After a few minutes of silent grieving, Rust approached them.

  “Smallthorn,” he said, “I understand your pain. If you feel you need to take some time off from your duties, then do so for as long as you need.” Smallthorn nodded curtly, not in any state to speak. “Blaze,” Rust said, “may I speak with you?”

  Wondering what his chief could have to say to him at a time like this, Blaze followed him away from the center of camp.

  “There are things you need to know, Blaze.” Said Rust, “Everyone else in Icefire does, and it’s time you did as well.”

  Blaze perked his ears up, intent on what his chief was about to say. He wouldn’t have summoned him on the night of a funeral for something that wasn’t important.

  “This occurred years ago, just before I became chief.” Rust began, “I was in love then, I’ve told you this. Ginger was everything any saloli could want in a mate, and more. She was beautiful, kind, and gentle, but also brave, valiant, and a skilled fighter. We were to be married, and we couldn’t be happier.” Rust paused and looked away, a pained look on his face, “It was the day of the ceremony. Ginger had left with my brother on a last minute food expedition. The wedding was to be held within the hour, and she was nowhere to be found. We began to grow worried. Ginger would never willingly miss her own wedding ceremony! It was then that my brother ran back into the camp, a terrified look in his eyes. He came straight to me and told me that Ginger was dead.”

  Blaze averted his eyes, not able to look at his chief in this state. Rust had his eyes clenched shut, and tears were running down his cheeks, almost making him resemble Smallthorn.

  “He said that a human had begun to chase them. It cornered Ginger, and stepped on her, snapping her spine. She died instantly.”

  Blaze gasped. The thought was just too brutal to comprehend. What sort of monster would do that to such a helpless creature?

  “I’m sorry,” he told his chief.

  “Don’t be,” Rust asserted, I’ve spent more than my share of time grieving for her.” Rust began to use a paw to wipe away his tears. A thought occurred to Blaze then.

  “Rust, I never knew you had a brother.”

  “That is why I’m telling you this. I had, or should I say have, a brother. He was the strongest saloli in Icefire at the time. Everyone knew he would one day do great things.” Rust paused, as if for effect, and looked Blaze in the eye, “His name is Goliath.”

  This revelation nearly knocked Blaze off of his paws. Goliath? Rust’s Brother? He couldn’t be. It was impossible!

  “It’s true,” Rust assured him, “shameful as it is, I share blood with the wickedest creature in this forest.”

  Blaze shook his head, forcing himself to think straight, “But what exactly did he do? Everyone keeps telling me how evil he is, but not what he did.”

  Rust sighed, “It was the most evil, wicked thing any creature could do. There is nothing wrong with a saloli aspiring to be chief one day, unless he does so through the Blood Way.”

  “What’s the Blood Way?”

  “The Blood Way is one of the saloli’s most ancient laws, from back when we were less civilized than we are now. It is from the same time as the Challenge of Determination. The Law of Blood stated that the strongest saloli should lead the tribe, and the right to do so could be won through means of violence. In short, if you killed the old chief, you became the new chief. It’s a terrible law that should be forgotten, but it is ingrained too deeply into our culture to do so.

  “It was an unspoken understanding that Goliath would be the successor to, Iron, the saloli who ruled us at the time. However, Goliath was not content to wait. He challenged Iron and, by luck alone, was defeated. Iron, disgusted by Goliath’s bloodlust, but not willing to kill him, banished him from the tribe. Only one saloli followed him, the one who had always idolized him for his strength: Ratty.”

  “And then he went to Darkcover?” Blaze predicted.

  “No, Goliath had other plans. He would not have been content ruling a single tribe. He wanted them all. Spreading a false message, he enticed all four chiefs to the center of the forest, where the territories meet, where he would slaughter them all, inciting the Blood Way on all four tribes at once. Iron was the first to arrive. Goliath engaged him, and this time managed to kill him. Goldenrod came next, and Goliath inflicted a wound on her that should have been fatal. It was by Valde Abbas’ will alone that she survived. Patch and Halo came next, and my brother was about to attack bot
h at once. It was then that I happened by the area, on a patrol. I saw Goliath and reacted immediately. We had trained together all our lives, and I knew how to defeat him. My patrol took him captive, and led him back to camp. There, they told the tribe of how I avenged the death of our former chief, and therefor the Blood Way had passed on to me. They elected me chief that very night, which made it my duty to execute Goliath. I waited the customary three days, and then took Goliath to the ceremonial execution place to do what Iron could not.”

  Rust hung his head in shame now, “I was weak, though. I could not stand the thought of killing my own brother. Instead of executing him, I released him and banished him once more, telling him that if he ever showed his face here again, I would tear it off and feed it to the crows. He sneered, and promised that he would, indeed, return. I ignored him. That, Blaze, was the biggest mistake of my life. If I had just been strong enough to end his life, none of this would have happened. All this pain, this suffering, it’s all my fault.”