by Diana Steele
These primitive natives were also very thin, but not thin in a sense that they were starving. They were just thin with sinewy muscle just below the skin that flexed when they moved. On top of their heads laid manes of pitch black hair. It was thick and flowing and ended just above the shoulders. Not a beard was in sight among any of them.
Katrina was mesmerized by these strange people. She could barely peel her eyes away. She paid no attention to her father as he attempted to explain their situation to the natives. She just stared at those strange eyes. It was only when she heard something in the forest ahead that she snapped back to reality.
It was the sound of breaking branches that caught her attention. It sounded like a large animal crashing through the forest. Unfortunately, she was not the only one who heard it. Everyone else heard the sound, as well, and all hell broke loose.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kirrowind studied the strange woman as she poked her head out from around the line of soldiers that formed behind the large man from the boat. She had a strange sort of beauty. Why had he dreamed about her the night before? And now she was here in front of him. Kirrowind's curiosity and intrigue began to distract him from the present situation. He shook his head and brought his focus back to the task at hand. He knew that he couldn't afford to drift off inside his head at such an important moment.
He turned his attention back to the welcoming party. Over the sounds of the wind coming from the sea and his heart beating in his own chest, he was able to listen to the conversation between Strotwater and these strange newcomers.
“Welcome to the Valley, strangers. We welcome you with peace. I am Strotwater, Chief Patriarch of the Valley Tribes of Wandersend,” Strotwater greeted the stranger, using the Ancient Language. All Chief Patriarchs were required to learn the Ancient Language for ceremonial purposes. Strotwater had decided that an occasion as momentous as this required its usage.
“Greetings Strotwater. I am Pieter, King of Atlantis. I and my people are refugees looking for a new home. My kingdom has been devoured by fire and we have been at sea for six long months,” the stranger responded as he bowed at the waist in what was a clear gesture of respect.
Strotwater was stunned that this stranger could communicate in the sacred tongue. “Tell me, King Pieter, how is it that you are able to speak our Ancient Language?”
“I myself am curious as to how you are able to speak the Language of the High Courts,” King Pieter said.
“Perhaps the legends are true. My Mystics tell stories of a time long ago when Men were able to speak with the gods in their own language. That skill was lost to most people over the course of generations, only maintained by leaders and Mystics.”
“My country tells similar stories. All members of the royal family and our holy men can speak the Language of the High Court, so perhaps they are more than stories,” King Pieter agreed.
“The Valley has been home to my people since the dawn of time. It has provided for us without fail. If your intentions are pure and you can abide by the Code of The Valley then I see no reason that you cannot live with us.”
“Please, tell me of this Code and I will ensure that my people abide by it.”
Strotwater stood back a pace and Hetstorm the Mystic stepped forward. For generations, the Mystics had been in charge of keeping the Code of The Valley, the set of laws that governed everyone. As Chief of the Mystics, Hetstorm knew the Code by heart. He stood proud and tall and began to recite the code just as he had practiced a million times before.
“The Code of The Valley states: One, no person of the Valley shall cause harm to another person, neither through action nor inaction. Two, all citizens will honor and respect the Chief Patriarch as Father of All Tribes. Three, the Valley provides and cares for her people and her people must provide and care for the Valley. No plant or animal shall be killed in vain nor will the cause of undue suffering to the Valley be tolerated.” Hetstorm looked proud as he stepped back to his original spot on the beach and Strotwater stepped forward again.
“This is our Code, King Pieter. Can you abide by it?” Strotwater asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Your Code is honorable. My people and I shall abide by it. We strive for peace in this Valley of Wandersend,” King Pieter said as he bowed again.
Just as Kirrowind was ready to breathe a sigh of relief that things had gone well, they stopped going well. He heard a branch snap behind him immediately followed by several more snaps and a soft yelp. He flinched as he turned around to see what had caused the noise.
A Builder with his heavy stones had lost his balance in the tree and fallen out. As useful as a Builder could be, they could also be just as disappointing. Kirrowind worried that this noise would cause the newcomers to panic just as a snapping twig will spook a deer or rabbit. He quickly turned his attentions back to the beach and he saw the formerly relaxed army of newcomers snap to attention and raise their weapons towards the Patriarchs.
“I knew it! It's an ambush! Be prepared to fight!” King Pieter shouted at his troops.
“They are going to kill the Chief Patriarch!” someone shouted from a nearby tree.
This was all it took to get the Valley residents up in arms. Before Kirrowind could react, bows were drawn and ready to fire.
“Hold your arrows! Hold your arrows!” Kirrowind shouted. “Their first reaction is going to be to run away.”
Kirrowind watched the opposing army to see what their next move would be. In typical behavior of a herd of buffalo defending its children, the army surged forward to surround the King and held its spears outwards. Kirrowind waited for them to start backing away as he expected them to do. He anxiously notched an arrow into his bow, just in case. Herds could be unpredictable when frightened.
Kirrowind felt like time slowed down to a crawl over the next few seconds. He watched as the two opposing groups stood still as stone and waited for the other to move. Both groups were on edge and both groups were armed. That was always a dangerous combination. One wrong move or even another sudden sound could change the situation from an uneasy stand off into a full on battle. That was not a situation that Kirrowind wanted. He could see that these newcomers were well trained and well-armed. He feared that a battle would result in a slaughter of Kirrowind and his people. They might take out a handful of them, but not enough to stop them. Even if he managed to stop this group, he was willing to bet that more were on the bigger boats out by the horizon.
Strotwater could also see where the situation could be going. He, along with the Chief Mystic and his disciple, slowly backed away towards the tree line without taking their eyes off the strange King's army.
Kirrowind watched his father and the Mystics backing away and saw that the invaders were inching closer. He began to worry that they were not moving fast enough. Any second now and the newcomers would charge forward and kill all three of them. Even if they ran, there was no way they could escape. He looked around at the landscape to formulate a plan.
Kirrowind selected the four Hunters nearest to him and told them to climb down to the ground with him. Once they were on the ground, he told them his rescue plan.
“There are at least twenty paces between us and Chief Strotwater. There are less than five paces between them and the invaders. Even if they start running now, they will be chased down and killed before we have a chance to act. We are going to have to act quickly. Since we are all Hunters, our natural speed and reflexes should give us an advantage. Once I give the word, we sprint forward, create a barrier between the Chief and the strangers, then we grab them up and run back for the trees,” Kirrowind whispered. He said a silent prayer and gave the order.
The next few moments were pure chaos. Kirrowind and the other Hunters sprang forward from the trees. As soon as the strangers saw them charging, they charged forward, as well. The four Hunters managed to grab Strotwater and the Mystics just as a spear flew forward. It barely missed Kirrowind's shoulder. Suddenly, arrows began to rain from the sky. Kirrowind'
s eyes widened as he saw the arrows fly over his head. Screams poured out from the men behind him as arrow pierced flesh. The previously well-formed line of soldiers began to break as men fell.
Suddenly, Kirrowind had a thought. The girl from his dream was on that beach. If she held the key to saving his people, he needed to be able to talk to her.
“Take my father. I have to go back for something,” Kirrowind ordered the others.
Without further explanation, he ran back towards the battle. Spears and arrows flew in both directions. Kirrowind had not been aware of the small, strange bows that the newcomers had kept hidden under their capes. He dodged axes, spears, and arrows as he searched frantically for this dream woman of his. The invading soldiers made every effort to stop Kirrowind, but his natural speed and fast reflexes in combination with the chaos around him allowed him to easily dodge their attacks. He eventually found the woman hiding in one of the small boats by the sea.
Kirrowind figured that she must have fled to the boat when she heard the first snap of branches. Unfortunately, she had not been able to avoid an errant arrow that managed to find her and pierce through her thigh. The bottom of the boat was filled with blood and she screamed in pain as more continued to flow.
Kirrowind stood over her and assessed her wound. She was in such agony that she didn't even notice him at first. When she finally did, she looked deep into his eyes and became very quiet. It may have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that she smiled a bit just before she passed out.
CHAPTER SIX
Katrina awoke in a haze. Before she opened her eyes, she was aware of a dull ache in her leg. She felt the firmness of solid wood pressing against her back and felt a comfort in knowing she was still in the boat that had been her refuge when the battle started. Suddenly she was aware of the quietness all around her. Was the battle over? Why did her leg hurt so much? Then she remembered. She had been shot in the leg by an arrow.
When the branches first snapped and the soldiers surrounded her father, she had run back to the row boat and tried to hide. Then there was screaming and shouting. Arrows flew through the sky. One went through her leg. Then there was a face. It was one of the natives.
She recalled brilliantly bright blue eyes. When she saw those eyes, she felt as if she was looking into the heart of the sea. Despite her agony in that moment, she felt calm. That was when everything had gone dark.
Katrina opened her eyes and waited for them to adjust to the darkness. The sun had been above the horizon when she blacked out, so she realized she must have been unconscious for quite some time. When her eyes finally adjusted, she looked around her. She was not in the boat as she had previously thought.
The first thing she noticed was that she was lying on a hard wooden surface with a wooden railing on one the side that opened up to the rest of the room. The other three sides and above her were solid wood as if the bed she was on had been carved into the wall itself. She was covered up with a thick fur blanket made from an animal hide of some sort and she had a bundle of furs as a pillow under her head. The second thing she noticed was that she was no longer wearing her dress. She was now dressed in a leather wrap that began just above her breasts and ended a few inches above her knee.
Sitting up to take a look around the room, she noticed that the walls of the room were a solid piece of wood. In fact, the entire room seemed to be one solid piece of wood. The whole room appeared to be inside a large tree.
Katrina saw that there was almost no furniture. The bed she was in, a table with candles on it that illuminated the room, and two blocks of wood that seemed to serve as chairs were the only thing in the room. She could see a window just above the bed that she could look out of. From the window she could look all the way to the sea. She saw a large opening carved out of the wall opposite her. There was no door, just another animal hide that covered the doorway to keep the wind and cold at bay.
Katrina attempted to stand so she could make her way to the doorway. As soon as she stood, she became light-headed and dizzy. She nearly fell but was able to catch herself on the bed. She looked down at her thigh and noticed that it was wrapped in moss and kept in place with thin leather straps. Surprisingly, she felt hardly any pain, just a dull ache. Whoever had brought her here had at least tended to her wounds. She stumbled to the wooden seats near the table in the center of the room and took a seat. She needed to formulate an escape plan, but she would need to wait until her head stopped spinning before she could put it into action.
As she contemplated on her plan to get out, she looked back up at the doorway and saw the animal hide being pulled to the side. Someone was coming in. She prepared to scream and fight back when she saw the man with those calming blue eyes come through the doorway.
“Oh, you're awake! I was starting to get worried. You shouldn't be up, though. The medicine I gave you takes some time to take full effect,” he said with a mix of surprise and general concern.
“Who are you? Why am I here?” Katrina asked defensively using the Language of the High Court as she had heard her father use. Even though this stranger's eyes and overall appearance had her intrigued, she still wasn't sure if he could be trusted.
“I'm Kirrowind, son of the Chief Patriarch, of the Hunter tribe. I saw you on the beach and when I saw that you had been hurt I brought you back here to tend to your wound. I nearly died trying to get you back here, but I managed it,” Kirrowind replied in the Ancient Language.
With that, he reached into a pouch that he carried around his waist and pulled out a piece of meat wrapped in leaves. He walked forward and placed it on the table in front of her.
Katrina looked at him suspiciously. Why would he take her from the beach? Was she being held hostage? She looked at the meat in front of her and poked at it with her finger. Could she trust it? Was it poison? After careful consideration, she decided that if this native was holding her hostage, he would rather keep her alive. She took a small bite and found it to be savory and tender.
“What is this? It's really good,” she said between mouthfuls.
“Stag. My friend Spiroot prepared it this evening and I had him prepare an extra piece for you,” Kirrowind replied proudly. With that, he took the seat opposite of Katrina and watched her while she ate. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Katrina nodded as she swallowed her last bite. She hadn't realized until then how thirsty she actually was. Kirrowind walked across the room and opened a cupboard door in the wall that she hadn't noticed before. From the cupboard he pulled out two wooden cups and a leather sack. He set the two cups on the table and poured out water from the sack.
“This water comes from the Eagle River just east of here. It is fed by the snow in the Northern Wastelands just past the Red Mountains so it is the freshest and cleanest water in the Valley,” Kirrowind informed her as he poured.
“Thank you,” Katrina said. Her guard was beginning to drop. “My name is Katrina by the way. Princess of Atlantis.”
Kirrowind arched his eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion. “What is 'Princess'? I am not familiar with that word.”
“I'm the daughter of the King, our leader,” Katrina said.
“Ah, I understand. Forgive me for being rude,” Kirrowind said as he stood and bowed in respect.
“So, if you didn't know I was the Princess, why did you kidnap me?” Katrina asked.
Kirrowind took a sip of his water. He seemed to be thinking about it himself.
“I didn't kidnap you. I rescued you. I had to. I had a dream last night. There was a war and the Valley had been destroyed. There was a girl who spoke to me. Then, your people came and I saw you and you are the girl from my dream. I had to speak to you. I need to know what part you play in this coming war. And if you can help me stop this war then I need to know how,” he replied.
As he spoke, Katrina took a good look at this native. He was tall and lean like the others she had seen with the same long black hair. His blue eyes were captivating. He wore
nothing but a bit of leather over his lower half. The muscles in his chest flexed when he moved and something in the pit of her stomach began to stir as she stared at his chest. He wasn't very big, but his muscles were quite strong. That much she could see. There was something oddly familiar about this native, but she couldn't decide what it was. It took a moment for her to realize that he had stopped speaking and she was simply staring.
She blushed and lowered her eyes to her cup for a moment. When she looked back up, Kirrowind was staring at her and smiling. His smile was just as beautiful as his eyes. It was kind and welcoming. Despite her strange surroundings, Katrina felt safe.
Suddenly, Katrina knew why she felt such a sense of calm. She couldn't believe that she didn't realize it until now. This strange native was the one from the dreams she had been having since the mountain started smoking back home.
“You know,” she said after a moment, “it's odd that you say you dreamed of me. I've been dreaming of you for quite some time. I dream that I find you in a battlefield and tell you that we can prevent this from happening. Now you have started a war.”
“That is the same dream I have. And we didn't start a war. We don't even have an army. I was in charge of a small party of volunteers charged with protecting the Valley. Things just got out of control,” Kirrowind explained.
“If what you say is true, then maybe you and I are destined to stop this war. I think I can convince my father to forgive your people if I explain things to him. If you take me back to my people, I will speak to him.”