Pillar of Fire (Book One-The Whale Hunter Series)

by Karah Quinney

  “He has?” Oi’yan was pleased for the two siblings that deserved to have strong familial ties, but her heart ached over her own loss.

  “I have.” Kahm held Oi’yan’s searching gaze. “However, they will need the strong bonds that come from a united family. I will admit that I hoped you would take a place at my side, standing forever as my lifemate.” The cave became silent as Oi’yan froze. In an instant, she went from anger to outrage.

  “Do you expect me to fall willingly into your arms at the first sign of remorse? Am I supposed to fall sway to your downcast gaze and grief-stricken expression?” Oi’yan blinked rapidly and just as suddenly, tears caused her vision to blur and her voice wavered as she spoke in a harsh whisper. “Do you expect me to fall into your arms now that you realize that I will not allow you to abandon me?”

  It was Kahm’s turn to stare at her in shocked silence. His face lit with bewilderment as he struggled to find a way to respond. Though he was normally in complete control of himself, he openly gaped at her before nodding.

  Oi’yan didn’t know how it happened exactly, but one moment she was beside the fire circle staring across the cave at Kahm and the next moment, she was in his arms, held firmly against his chest.

  Talon and Sunflower glanced at each other while Kahm soothed Oi’yan’s tears.

  “All will be well, Oi’yan. I am sorry that I hurt you. Never again. Never again.” Her name sounded wonderful on his lips as Kahm placed his palm upon the mound of her belly and felt the life that she carried within her womb for the first time. Their child.

  Oi’yan slept in the shelter of Kahm’s arms though he didn’t give in to the urge to rest. Instead, he watched her face in the flickering light of the cave. Across the small fire, he saw that Miche didn’t stir. He knew that his brother could die, but in the silence of the night, he prayed for his life.

  Kahm had no doubt that Miche had always been their father’s favorite son. Kahm had always tried to show their father that he was strong and honorable, but when the illness that caused his senses to careen out of control came about, his father lost faith in him.

  During a battle with warriors that sought to raid their village his father had almost been killed right before his eyes. Time had narrowed to a standstill as a spear hurtled toward his father’s chest and Kahm was unable to move or respond. He remained frozen in place as the world around him filled with sound that drowned out his ability to react.

  Miche intervened at the last moment and his father lived through the battle. Kahm’s inability to function would have almost certainly led to his father’s death by an enemy’s spear.

  After the battle, their father accused Kahm of being too weak to hold the place of an honored warrior. The accusation felt like a physical blow, but Kahm couldn’t find a remedy for the illness that affected his mind and body.

  It was only recently that he had learned that the ability he possessed was a gift, passed down to him through generations of warriors from within his family.

  Miche would be glad to know that Kahm was mastering the very thing that had made him an outcast. The warrior’s gift was a blessing if used correctly, not a curse. Kahm only hoped that Miche would recover so that he could share this new insight with him.

  Oi’yan stirred in his arms and he looked down into her dream filled eyes. “Is it true?”

  “Is what true?” Kahm leaned close to sip at her lips even as she returned his passionate embrace.

  “Have you come back to me or is this simply a dream?” Oi’yan lifted her head to look at Kahm.

  “I should have taken you with me. I know that now, but I thought that I carried a sickness inside of me and I believed that I was a danger to you and others.” He pressed her closer as she started to speak in anger.

  Kahm burned with an all-consuming hunger as Oi’yan’s lips parted with a sigh and she relaxed against the muscular folds of his body.

  She would never willingly part from him again. Not even for a moment.

  “It appears that I have been warned.” Kahm’s lips twitched with amusement as Oi’yan’s eyes flew open. She had not intended to speak her thoughts out loud.

  Kahm gazed across the fire and saw that his brother dreamed. Perhaps it was a good sign. Perhaps Miche would wake in the morning and they would find a way to move forward together.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Umati watched as the women danced around the village fire. Ceremonial grass skirts adorned their hips and their breasts were bare except for the adornment of necklaces made of shells and beads. He was content to accept the devotion of his people as the men took up the dance of the hunter and the women bent to their knees, taking their assigned places.

  The people beseeched the heavens for a blessing just as they always did, season over season. Umati made use of a tortoiseshell rattle as one of the men beat upon an animal skin drum. Their voices lifted in song as they asked for enough food to feed their village, plentiful game to hunt and full fishing nets for their men.

  Chumal remained at his side and he was attentive, as always. As the singing and dancing died down and the evening meal began Umati turned to Chumal, with a narrowing of his eyes. “Where is Sarnom?”

  “He said that he had matters to attend to, I will seek him out, if that is your wish.” Chumal quickly rose to do Umati’s bidding. He didn’t see Hetol, standing off to the side and ever eager to hear the whispered words of their leader.

  Hetol followed Chumal to the outskirts of their village. He clung to the shadows and marveled at how arrogant their war leader was to believe that he wouldn’t be followed. Chumal never glanced over his shoulder and Hetol noticed that he went directly to Sarnom’s lodge. Chumal had known all along where Sarnom was, but he didn’t tell Umati. Hetol found Chumal’s lie of omission of great interest.

  “Sarnom, your brother is looking for you. Do you seek to anger him by avoiding the evening ceremony?”

  “I can see that you have no shame.” Sarnom’s voice carried outside of the thin walls of his lodge and Hetol smiled in anticipation. “Your men have been unable to find what I value most. You have failed to do as I have asked.”

  Hetol realized that Sarnom held Chumal in disfavor for his inability to find Talon and Sunflower. He stepped closer as he considered how he could use the information to his advantage.

  “Umati bid me to come and find you.” Chumal sought to avoid Sarnom’s wrath, but as he looked into the man’s eyes, he saw that he had erred.

  “Umati? Umati! A curse upon my brother!” Sarnom spat the words as rage bloomed in his eyes.

  “Sarnom!” Chumal scrambled away as Sarnom charged forward.

  “I should gut you myself for your failure. I asked you, as the war leader of our people, to find Talon and Sunflower, yet you have not done what you claimed would be a small matter.”

  “Your brother said that we should cease looking for Talon and Sunflower and he didn’t stand by your order to kill Talon.” Chumal sputtered as Sarnom pressed a knife to his throat. The knife’s edge was made of chiseled stone, cut in jagged lines for maximum force. He had fashioned the weapon himself and lost it to Sarnom in a hand bone game.

  “You should remember that my brother listens to the sound of my voice in all things. Get out of my sight! Don’t return until you have proven your loyalty to me.”

  Chumal crawled through the entrance flap that he had entered so boldly. He scrambled to his feet as Sarnom issued his warning. Hetol didn’t step out of the shadows as he clutched his belly to hold back raucous laughter. He brushed a long strand of hair from the side of his face, before he lifted his eyes to watch Chumal stalk away.

  For far too long, Sarnom had favored Chumal over him, but no longer. It occurred to him that if he could find a way to bring Sunflower back to their village, Talon would follow. In return, he would receive Sarnom’s favor. He suddenly wanted that more than anything else. He knew that he would find a way and he would start with Talon’s friend, Matiye. As he walked away, he laughed da
rkly in triumph.

  Kahm stared down at his brother with barely concealed relief. “You didn’t die.”

  Miche’s only answer was a squinting of the eyes as he inspected his wound and then grumbled under his breath. He knew that his brother had watched over him throughout the night.

  “Kahm, I have spoken to Sunflower.” Talon approached Kahm and Miche, with Sunflower at his side.

  Sunflower glanced between both men as she noticed tried to follow the flow of their words. Talon had explained with hand signs and gestures that Kahm and Oi’yan wanted them to sit at their hearth. It was then that Talon taught her how to pronounce Kahm’s name, though her hand sign remained the same for him.

  “And what have you decided? Will you choose to sit at my hearth?” Kahm’s expression was earnest as he looked at Talon, who nodded solemnly, before turning his attention to his sister.

  Sunflower spoke one of the words that she had practiced long into the night with Talon. “Yes.”

  Kahm reared back in surprise. “You can speak?”

  “She can speak?” Miche pushed himself to a sitting position as he cradled his side.

  “It appears so.” Kahm’s voice was more forceful than he intended, but he saw the shadows in his brother’s eyes and he wouldn’t allow anyone to question his decision, not even Miche.

  “Ah, this is a good thing. I take it that you have made your peace with Oi’yan.” Miche’s face relaxed into an expression that Kahm knew well.

  “I have taken Oi’yan as my lifemate.” Kahm looked across the cave to see Oi’yan rise from her resting place.

  She stretched delicately and then placed her hands over her bulging belly as she met Kahm’s gaze. Her lips tilted into a smile and for Kahm, it was like watching the sunrise.

  “Good.” Miche replied.

  His brother’s secretive manner belied the tone of his voice. Kahm couldn’t help but wonder what Miche was hiding. He knew his brother well and there was something just beneath the surface that Miche didn’t wish to share.

  Oi’yan had assured him that Miche had never once acted inappropriately toward her and Kahm expected no less from his brother. He shook his head as he thought of the foolishness that had taken hold of him that caused him to leave Oi’yan in Miche’s care. He carried a depth of loyalty to his brother, but Oi’yan was his just as he was hers. Forever.

  Kahm grasped Miche beneath the arms and helped his brother to his feet. Both men left the cave as Miche’s legs grew steadier with each step. Long after they were gone, Sunflower stared after them with a thoughtful expression upon her face.

  Kahm urged Miche to return to the pallet of furs where he had spent the night. His brother’s face was tense with pain, but it appeared that Miche would live.

  Sunflower’s healing touch had saved him. Kahm knew that they might well be facing a different outcome today if not for Sunflower’s help. Talon sat with Kahm as they studied Miche across the fire.

  “Tell me of our people.” Kahm’s voice was firm and Miche flinched, before he regained his composure. When he spoke, his words were so quiet that Kahm and Talon had to strain to hear him speak.

  “They came in the dark of night. Great men of war, carrying weapons that held poison within. We fought valiantly and the first wave of men was pushed back, but our village couldn’t hold out against warriors that came at us in ever greater hordes.” Miche sighed deeply as he continued speaking. “Father strategized with the council of elders and we tried everything that they suggested.”

  “Yet, our enemy swarmed over our village like swarming insects. They came at us painted for war, with their war drums dancing in victory. Their arrows rained fire upon our lodges, sending acrid smoke and flames into the air. The screams from the women and children still ring in my ears, even now. In the end, our father was taken captive and I believe that he was killed by the men that we call the Mingha. They use our people as slaves. I fear that once they establish themselves in our village, they will have no more use for our loved ones.”

  “What chance do our people have against so many?” Kahm had never felt such anger followed by overriding defeat.

  “You would give up!” Miche shouted.

  “I have not said this to you. I am only considering the odds of two men against a band of bloodthirsty warriors.” Kahm narrowed his eyes at his brother. “How is it that you had no warning of the arrival of enemy warriors?”

  Miche turned his face away for a moment and then he faced his brother. “I am certain that they knew men of a different band walked in the forest near our village. The elders must have known the moment that they drew close to our village, but they were not prepared for men that would overtake our village and enslave our people.”

  Kahm nodded in understanding. In the village of Chimar, all were made welcome. Traders came each season and others such as Oi’yan’s family joined with the Chimar people. Occasionally, there was a skirmish over hunting grounds or other matters, but it was not the way of his people to treat newcomers with suspicion. Yet, something about Miche’s furtive glances caused Kahm to wonder if his brother had told him everything.

  They had once been so close that they could almost speak for each other. It was their father that had acted as a divisive force in their lives. When Kahm, won the respect of the warriors and his tribe, his father had praised him for his skill. Yet, Kahm remembered well the disgust in his father’s eyes when he failed to react during the midst of a battle.

  Failing to protect his father from a spear thrust had almost cost the village of Chimar their leader’s life. Kahm blamed himself, perhaps more so than his own father blamed him. Miche had never said an ill word to Kahm about that fateful day.

  It was obvious to all that Kahm would never be fit to lead others. Kahm had agreed with everyone, until now. Because of Talon and Sunflower, Kahm understood with absolute certainty that his illness was actually an ability long denied.

  Having once basked in the adulation of his village, Kahm walked into the wilderness alone, knowing that he could never return home. He was an outcast. Until now.

  “Miche, I have something to tell you.” Kahm couldn’t contain the brief flicker of amusement that caused his lips to twitch. He could tell by his brother’s look of irritation that Miche found nothing humorous about their current plight.

  “I am listening.” Miche looked at Kahm closely as his brother shared a glance with Talon.

  “You know well the illness that has afflicted me in the past. I have been unable to function in battle and unable to train as a warrior. Even hunting became difficult.” Kahm saw that Talon tried unsuccessfully to contain his impatience. He owed Talon a depth of gratitude since he had been instrumental in helping him gain control of his new abilities.

  “I know this, brother.” Miche wanted to spare Kahm the embarrassment associated with his illness. What man wanted to admit that he couldn’t fight and worst of all that he couldn’t hunt?

  “Talon and Sunflower helped me to understand that it is not an illness. In fact, it is a rare gift.” Kahm couldn’t keep the enthusiasm out of his voice, although he tried.

  Miche was skeptical about anything he couldn’t touch, see or feel, as was Kahm. It was Kahm’s own skepticism that had kept him from exploring the strange sensations that assaulted him. The battle rage always plagued him in battle or on the hunt as he raised bow and arrow to make a kill and it was then that he lost control of his mind and body.

  Miche knew that his face betrayed his disbelief. Pity for his brother swamped him. “How can you believe that the illness that has afflicted you is anything but terrible?”

  Kahm pounded his fist into his hand in frustration as Talon shifted his attention to him. He felt anger surge through his blood as his brother looked away from him in disgust.

  “Perhaps it is best if you simply show him.” Talon’s voice reached through the fog that consumed Kahm’s thoughts.

  He focused upon Oi’yan and Sunflower sitting on the rocks outside of the cave
and he breathed easier. Yes, he would show Miche exactly what the three of them had discovered during their time of isolation.

  “Come.” Kahm’s voice was a rough command. He strode around the fire and hefted his brother to his feet.

  Miche shrugged out of Kahm’s grasp. “I can make it on my own.”

  “Then walk!” Kahm’s voice was sharper than he intended, but it couldn’t be helped. There had been a time when Miche would have accepted his word without question. It was obvious to both men that the cherished days of unmitigated trust had passed.

  Sunflower and Oi’yan glanced up as Kahm stalked toward them. Oi’yan knew at a glance that something was wrong. Talon led Miche to stand nearby and the short walk caused sweat to bead upon his forehead. It was obvious that Miche was still in a great deal of pain.

  Oi’yan looked into Kahm’s tense face and she decided that it was better to remain silent. A glance to her right told her that Sunflower was unaffected by Kahm’s behavior. Perhaps the younger girl knew more of what was taking place than she had assumed.

  “We will show him the arrow trick. I like that the best.” Talon paced a distance away and turned to face Kahm.

  Oi’yan gasped when the boy raised his bow and sited Kahm as his target. Sunflower put a steadying hand on Oi’yan’s arm as she started to rise. She raised her hand and pressed it toward Oi’yan in a gesture that was easy to understand.

  “Wait.”

  Oi’yan bit her lip and settled back into place. Her heart beat furiously as Kahm stood before them without moving. This was the man that she loved, regardless of the sickness that had taken his strength from him.

  Kahm was and would always be the warrior that she had chosen of her own free will. His weathered features spoke of the long line of men that had fought as warriors and lived as hunters for the Chimar people. Kahm took in everything at a glance.

  He had uncommonly thick eyelashes and a strong, flat forehead. His hair was sheared at the shoulders and a single feather was tied over his right eye. Oi’yan knew the feather well, for she had given it to him. Just as his buckskin leggings carried a fringe along the sides that she had made with her own hands.