“Yes,” he said. “Grishas has not come to work yet. You can do his work until he gets here.” I spent the next few hours mixing clay with a paddle. By early afternoon Vetuvenu expressed concern over his employee’s absence and left to check in with him. He returned an hour or two later.
“Grishas is not home. I have searched the markets. No one has seen him.”
“Should we go search around the town?” I asked. Everyone agreed we should do so and we shut down the shop and split up to search. Grishas’s neighbors said he often go to the river for a swim before retiring so we spread out, with some searching the nearby fields and others searching the river.
I had the misfortune of finding his remains. His mangled corpse was in a field just off the river downstream from the town. The trampled ferns surrounding the body gave testament to the struggle. A ruaka is a large creature, and something had torn his body apart and eaten most him. There was barely enough left to verify that it was a ruaka at all.
I turned back to summon the others, then led them to the site. The oiwepol stood quietly at the edge of the scene. Vetuvenu sat beside the body with his frill pressed tightly to his neck, his head dipped down low. A moment later I felt a deep rumbling in my legs. It took me several moments to realize that the vibration emanated from Vetuvenu—a deep, deep noise, just at the threshold of human hearing. I stepped away and left him alone, not knowing what was an appropriate response in his culture. After a few minutes the rumbling stopped and he looked back up and around him.
“I will bury him here,” he said. He turned his head to Wohwon. “Please bring me a cloth to wrap him in.” He turned to the rest of us. “We will do no more work today.”
Without another word he turned away and began digging into the soil with his long claws. I did not know what was expected of me. I thought about it as I walked back to town with the others. I had just spent a couple of weeks traveling and working with Grishas. I needed to do something.
Once back at town I retrieved my shovel and returned to the site of his death. I did not speak as I joined Vetuvenu in digging. He looked up at me briefly, his colored frill rippling once, then returned silently to his chore. Wohwon returned after a while carrying a length of plain grey cloth. Soon Vetuvenu and I finished our digging and the three of us wrapped the ragged corpse in the cloth, lowered it into the grave, and shoveled the dirt back on top. When we were done, we stood quietly for several minutes. At last, Vetuvenu spoke.
“Thank you for your help,” he rumbled. “We are done.” But he did not move. Wohwon and I left him there, and I did not see him the rest the day.
This was the first report of a sentient being falling prey to the attacks. Nearby farmers offered a reward for the carcass of whatever was killing their livestock. Many of us who had camped on the fields near town moved into the city, and the prices at the inns increased accordingly. To afford the cost of lodgings I redoubled my efforts to get work, but with limited success. I resorted to more fishing and hunting. If I was going to afford passage over the mountains from Mothash, I needed money. Once I departed with him and his crew, I would not need to worry about the monsters that had the entire village nervous.
I hunted one warm morning, trying hard to stay downwind of a herd of waybeasts. My archery skills were sufficient to take one if I could get close enough. Waybeast did not huddle closely in their herds like some Earthly antelopes or cattle, so getting close enough did not mean getting within bowshot of a densely packed bunch of ambulatory meat. I crept through tall feather ferns and low lying tendril bushes, past the occasional tree, toward a cluster of waybeasts.
They suddenly froze, their heads all pointing deliberately off to my left. They stayed that way several seconds, then darted away. Did I spook them? How good was their hearing? I was sure I didn’t make a sound! And I had detected no shifting wind that would have carried my scent toward them. Frustrated, I released the tension from my bow string and stood from my previous crouch.
Then I heard a sound I had not heard in months, and only a few times before that, but it was a sound I recognized, and that haunted bad dreams to this day. It was the roar of a telak, the fearsome fanged predator that had nearly eaten me during my days at Augie Field.
Terrified like I had not been since leaving my solitary life, I turned and sprinted in the direction of the town. I could only hope that if the telak pursued anything, it would be the mohari, but the crashing sound and growling from behind convinced me that the telak had chosen the slower prey. Panic threatened to claim my mind; I fought it off best I could. I darted and wove past bushes and trees, their branches and leaves slapping my face.
And then memory slapped me in the face far more abruptly. Trees! I had escaped my first telak by climbing a tree! As I ran along I clumsily flung my bow over one shoulder and glanced around for a climbable tree. There! No wait, branches too low—the monster may be able to climb that one. Another tree—not one I could climb, though. Ele! That one was perfect, but not very close. I headed for it.
I hazarded a glance over my shoulder to glimpse the fanged visage of my pursuer. A roar sounded ahead of me. Another telak? I faced forward but saw nothing until a dark shape burst forth from a clump of bushes. I flung my hands up reflexively, relaxing a little when I saw it was only a startled waybeast. Then I saw what had startled it: a second telak! It was as though the monster that nearly claimed my life at Augie Fields had resurrected and brought a friend.
The second beast’s trajectory took it out of my path to the tree, so with a slight course correction I continue and leapt for the highest branch I could reach, catching it successfully, adrenaline fueling my strength and speed to pull my legs up in an attempt to wrap them around the branch.
I felt a sting in my left calf as some tooth or claw of the telak scraped it, knocking that leg out of its trajectory to dangle below me as the right leg found purchase. I scrambled to bring the leg up to join the rest of me, my body swaying from the previous impact. I saw the telak land below me and swing its semi-reptilian form around to face me again. It snarled as it saw its prey clutching at its perch.
I hurriedly gathered myself above the branch and crept inward toward the trunk. Without pausing for another look down, I climbed the available branches, twisting my torso and catching my bow or my spear a time or two on a protruding twig. My left foot slipped once and I fell, my arms grabbing tightly to stop me from plummeting to the growling and slobbering creature that scrambled to try to claw its way up the trunk.
By the time I was high enough, the second telak had joined its companion at the base of the tree. Both were growling and scrabbling at the trunk. From time to time one would bump into its neighbor, eliciting a growl and a snap of the jaw from the other. Then they’d back down, sometimes growling and hissing at each other before returning their attentions to me. They weren’t actively contesting each other, but they weren’t cooperating, either.
They would make their way up the tree, eventually. I couldn’t just stay there and wait for them to go away. Drawing on my previous experience, I resolved to attack their big, gaping jaws. I readied my bow, having to intertwine my legs about the branches to steady myself so that I didn’t fall.
I took aim at the nearest telak, a slobbering, growling nightmare with angry red eyes glaring at me. I nocked an arrow and took aim. My target was bobbing up and down in frustrated attempts to find purchase on the trunk. My hands were shaking but I tried to steady them until twang! The string slipped from my fingers and my arrow flew off mark, missing the beast by at least a foot.
Again I armed and took aim, then released my arrow. It struck a glancing blow, leaving a long red shallow gash on the creature’s flank. It flinched away and opened its enormous mouth in an angry roar. I quickly readied another arrow, but not quickly enough. The jaws closed and my arrow glanced off the side of its head. It glared at me angrily and roared.
The second telak was now the more aggressive adversary. It leapt, snarling and growling. My next arrow miss
ed the mouth but sunk into the monster’s side, piercing ribs. The accompanying roar was mixed with a screech of pain. The telak fell on its side, snapping the arrow. I put another arrow into its belly as it rolled over.
Suddenly a telak’s face filled my field of view as the first attacker used its downed comrade as a stepstool, its fanged mouth snapping at me. I yelped and instinctively backpedaled, falling from my perch.
I slammed into a lower branch, my ribs bearing the brunt of the force, my wind leaving me. I tumbled down through the branches, barely catching myself on a lower one. My bow fell from my hand, and I could not retrieve my spear from my dangling position. My attacker tangled in the branches above me. It had managed to get into the tree, but it was a poor climber, and its clawed feet stumbled about seeking a good footing. It was trying to scramble out over me. The wounded telak was distracted for the moment clawing at the arrow in its ribs.
Limbs cracked and bent beneath the weight of the tree-bound telak. In desperation I dropped to the ground, stumbling but managing to stay on my feet. I pulled my spear from its sling and pointed it at the beast mere moments before it came crashing down. My hopes of skewering it failed, but the spear gouged a long, deep cut across its neck. It writhed about on the ground and righted itself, but not before I’d hefted my spear overhead and thrust down into its neck from above, piercing the flesh.
The telak roared and snapped its jaws sideways at me, cutting my left calf again. Again I thrust down with the spear, cutting it. When it opened its jaws to roar again, I stabbed down into the toothsome cage, impaling its lower jaw, the spear exiting downward and pinning it to the ground. The noise it emitted was fearsome in the extreme. It screamed and writhed about the spear, clawing at it desperately but without any real direction.
I stepped back and ran to my bow. The other telak saw me now, and in pain and anger turned its attention from the arrow in its side and toward me. I readied an arrow and let it fly—too quickly—it missed. The next glanced off the skull near an eye, eliciting an angry shriek. It crept cautiously toward me.
I shot again, hitting a shoulder. It veered to the side, then crept at me again, its mouth open in a wide and toothy roar. The next arrow sunk into the inside of its cheek. It shook its head, flipping over on its back, pawing at the latest source of pain. Again and again I shot, hitting and missing, until I had emptied my quiver. It was still writhing and growling, but not pursuing me.
I looked back at its companion. By now it had pulled the spear loose from the dirt and was shaking it loose from its jaw. Blood gushed from the wound. The telak spasmed in pain, ignoring me. I snatched up my spear and stabbed the beast deep in the side of its throat. Its roar gurgled and faded. Again I stabbed, and again.
I turned back to the arrow-ridden telak. It was still thrashing wildly, but I saw it slip and fall over and over. It was losing control of its limbs. I kept my distance. Its companion was still except for a slight twitching. The pin-cushion telak slipped and fell again, not righting itself immediately. I struck between the ribs and stabbed deep into its torso several times. I stumbled back away from the scene, holding my spear between me and the two monsters. They did not get up. I had won.
Adrenaline had me trembling all over. I leaned on my spear and tried to catch my breath. Suddenly my left leg collapsed beneath me, and I dropped onto the ground. I looked at the leg and saw my calf was badly gashed. I examined the cuts. They were numerous and long, but none looked extremely deep. I wrapped it with some cloth and tied it on with twine. I would want to clean it soon. I sat and drank water and rested until my pulse slowed and I could breathe normally, then gingerly climbed to my feet and tested them. My left calf twinged in pain every time I put weight on it, but if I was careful, it was manageable.
I was sure the telak were responsible for the recent rash of livestock killings, and for Grishas’ death. My mind turned to the bounty offered by the farmers. If I could present the corpses to them, I could claim that reward, but there was no way I could haul the two carcasses all the way back to town. Perhaps they would be content with partials.
First, my trophies. I approached the bodies and, having determined they no longer moved, worked to separate an incisor from each. I would add it later to my necklace
After much consideration, I resolved to return with the hides and skulls. I did not attempt to skin them well enough to sell as leather, just well enough to establish their size. I left the heads attached, which proved to be tricky and probably not worth the extra time. I cut down a sapling and fastened one hide to each end. I carried it over my shoulders and set out for town.
The trip back was long and slow, as I had to nurse my injured leg. The heads were massive and heavy. I stopped often to rest. Restarting each time was difficult. My leg would freeze up and not want to move at first.
Early evening I limped back into Black Banks with my gruesome trophies, garnering no small amount of attention along the way. I approached a grend councilman who represented a farming consortium.
“These are the creatures that have been killing the livestock,” I said, “and killed a ruaka tradesman last ganulan.” He quickly gathered together several farmers who came and inspected the telak jaws, teeth, and claws and a consensus was reached that indeed, I had slain the culprits.
I gained some notoriety for this act. Soon I had a reputation in Black Banks as a iorta cha. People would stop me in the market and ask me about my fight and examine my now three-toothed necklace. “Do all humans carry the teeth of their prey?” I was asked more than once. I tried to explain to them how much of the fight was luck, and how much was due to the fact that I could climb trees much better than a telak could. The reward was nice, and afforded me lodging for quite some time.
The attacks, however, did not cease altogether. They did slow significantly, however. It was clear that there were still telak roaming nearby. Hence, I was summoned to a town council meeting to discuss it. They offered to hire me as a sort of exterminator. Again I tried to explain how much was just luck and tree-climbing. After lengthy debate, though, we came up with a plan.
There were hren who were much better hunters than I was: people who knew much more about tracking and locating prey. Now that they had samples of the claws they could ascertain the tracks of the beasts, and some hren hunted largely by scent, and they now had a fresh sample of the odor. A small group of hunters were hired, with me being officially in charge of the project. The plan was to locate the telak lair, try to ascertain their hunting trails, and station perches from which hunters could attack them without fear.
Over the next week or so the hunters tracked and mapped out foot prints. They failed to find a den and theorized that telak did not bed down in one place consistently. Nevertheless, definite patterns were found in the tracks. Farmers built hunting perches on the edges of their fields. Carpenters erected them in various places in the surrounding wilderness. Large snares were constructed at my instruction. I sent a mental thank you to my mentor, D’Silva.
A couple of ruaka hunters took their first telak shortly thereafter. I had a chance to sample telak meat and decided I did not begrudge the haunch I lost to the waygriffins—it was greasy, stringy, and tough. As manager, I took a small percentage of the reward for each successful kill. I aided a couple of chivik take down another one, with one unfortunate chivik losing an arm in the fight. Days later I helped a shokhung hunter dispatch one. I wondered how many of the monsters had moved into the area. Were they a nomadic species following some sort of extended migration?
The attacks dwindled in number, eventually ceasing altogether, and my stint as a city employee came to an end. We had lost one hunter and one arm in the process. I took a few days off, having saved some money and feeling like I deserved a brief sabbatical. I reflected on the events since my return to Black Banks. Something gnawed at the back of my brain. Something I couldn’t place for a long time. Then it came to me. The blimp should have been back at least a ganulan ago. What had happened to Mothash?
<
br /> I returned to my various labors, not wanting to eat through my savings. Every day I would ask around to see if anyone had heard news of Mothash and his blimp. I questioned visitors coming into Black Banks, especially those from the south, where the blimp was headed when it left. Nobody expressed concern over his extended absence—his schedule wasn’t iron-clad.
Another ganulan crept by with no signs of his return. Meanwhile, I was treated to the sight of a shokhung troop in a steam-driven wagon coming from the direction of Sarnin. A hunter trapped a lone telak, prompting a temporary resurgence of our old team, but no more of the monsters surfaced. A small handful of praad came to town and traded, but were all business and no chit-chat. They did business with only a few shops, then left the very next day.
My heart sank as I began to lose hope of getting a ride to the north of the mountains. I was now a known—and somewhat respected—figure in Black Banks, but still it was not home. Alien faces surrounded me, and aside from Paksachi, they all had the company of their own kind. I yearned to see another human face.
I pondered returning to D’Silva, but it could only be temporary: he was a hermit and did not want company. I thought about how each turn of my journey took me away from where I thought I’d go: I left the tupa expecting to return to them, and instead settled here.
I would go north to search for more evidence of that flag. In my Earthly life I had never been an ambitious man: I was content to go along to get along, play the game, and take my pay. Life on Wayworld had changed that. Human companionship was now my Holy Grail. I would spend a lifetime searching for it, if I must.
Chapter 11: The North
A month or so after Mothash’s non-arrival, I began my trek northward, aiming for the mountains. I had spent weeks preparing travel-ready foods, and purchased packs and extra clothes with my savings from my stint as Chief Iorta Telak. I consulted many merchants and travelers and had been assured there was a pass through the mountains. I obtained rough maps of the route, and found out there were a few settlements in the foothills where I might be able to hire a guide.
Diggory's World (Wayworld Book 1) Page 19