The Hunter

by Rose Estes

  For him the long arduous hours of practice were unnecessary, for the moves came as naturally as though they had been born a part of him like the knowledge of breathing and walking, and while he practiced alongside Carn and the others, it was for him a joy, a pleasure to be indulged rather than a chore. In the end, he outstripped them and all that his mentors could teach him. He knew more than his teachers and ventured into unexplored areas of expertise on his own. He developed a method of training that allowed him to practice alone, to compete against himself, for the others were unable to keep up with him and to attempt to do so was to show them their shortcomings. So he practiced alone, and even though they admired him and praised him and boasted of his prowess, a distance had sprung up between himself and his former playmates. He could call none of them friend. Except for Auslic.

  Lines of worry creased Braldt’s forehead as he thought of Auslic, for while he was still chief in every meaning of the word, he was by far the oldest member of the tribe and had grown noticeably frail. Braldt knew that the deaths of Hafnor and Solstead would be harsh blows, for they had been Auslic’s oldest friends and strongest supporters in the Council, that body of men who governed the tribe. With their deaths, Auslic’s power would be greatly diminished.

  Braldt pondered the problem as his legs rose and fell tirelessly. Auslic was old, it was true, but still the best qualified to govern the tribe. Over the years he had dealt with rival tribes who had sought to rob them of their rich farms and grazing lands and their ample water rights as well as the constant onslaughts of the primitive beastmen, the karks, those strange creatures. They were neither man nor animal but something in between with their manlike features, clever hands, and shaggy, powerful bodies.

  He often wondered if it would be possible to speak to them, to communicate, but there had never been an opportunity. Whenever they met, which was but seldom, it was in battle. Little was known of the karks for they came out of the east, out of the Spirit Land, lands that were forbidden to enter, even to such as Braldt. But the karks came and went with impunity and the priests said that they were unclean and not loved by the gods and that the gods were offended by their presence and much honor fell to those who killed them. Braldt had killed many of the karks who fought bravely and died with eyes filled with hatred, and yet, still, despite the assurance of the priests, Braldt wondered…

  He also helped to defend the tribe against the periodic raids of the slavers who traveled in darkness and secrecy, slipping in whenever possible to steal children or breeding-age women or strong, able men and disappearing swiftly, leaving little or no trail to follow. But such matters were routine and little affected the working of the city, and under Auslic’s long rule the clan had grown and prospered. It was hard to remember a time when Auslic had not ruled. For many, he was the heart of the tribe itself.

  But others, Carn among them, whispered that Auslic had ruled too long and should give way to a younger more vigorous leader, by which they meant themselves.

  Braldt could imagine no chief other than Auslic and he had taken it upon himself to remain at the old man’s side whenever possible, lending him strength by his presence. For him it was a silent statement that not all the young men wished him to be gone. Auslic, while never commenting on his presence, seemed to enjoy having him at his side and made a place for him at the Council, beside his chair of state, which earned Braldt many a dark look from Carn and his followers. Braldt had not thought to speak to Auslic before leaving to seek out the lupebeast, never realizing that the deed would take him so far nor keep him away so long.

  His concern for Auslic and what might be happening in his absence drove him on long after his lungs and muscles burned with fatigue and begged for respite. The pup had fallen behind that first day, whining piteously before the sun had even reached its peak in the hot white roof of the sky, and Braldt had been forced to carry him in his robes, further adding to his exhaustion as he ran on through the long hot day and into the night.

  The leading edge of the sun was dimpling the horizon, tinging the pale grey mists with pinkish hues, when Braldt passed the great standing Guardian Stone that marked the southernmost boundary of the Duroni lands. He had run throughout the night, without cease, taking advantage of the absence of the burning sun that scorched the lands during the day, and his body throbbed with exhaustion.

  Beast stirred within his robes and chirped softly. Braldt slowed and came to rest against the intricately carved face of the Guardian Stone. No man knew the meaning of the carvings that marked its face, not even Auslic for they were ancient beyond memory.

  In places, the stone was worn as smooth as a baby’s cheek, the stark runes all but obliterated. But when viewed from an angle, the outlines of a manlike being could be seen underlying the carving, stern, blank eyes staring forward into the hot empty desert lands as though standing silent guard against unseen invaders. Braldt had often been found at the foot of the stone in the early days, staring upward at the cold, chiseled stone, for he imagined that he saw something of his own features in that hard rock, and it was just beyond the stone that he and his dead parents had been discovered.

  He had stared at the runes over the years, trying to decipher their meaning, hoping that in some way they would explain his own mysterious origins, but understanding continued to elude him, and eventually he had come to accept the futility of his actions. But the stone still drew him, for it was a tenuous link with his unknown past, and he felt none of the fear that it engendered in the rest of the tribe, and to it he returned in times of trouble or loneliness.

  The feel of the rough stone under his hand was comforting and he stood there, breathing deeply, body slicked with sweat, watching the sun burn its way through the mist barrier, as he had done so many times in the past. Beast had wandered away to squat in puppy fashion behind the stone and suddenly came bounding stiff-legged back toward Braldt, ears and eyes focused on the stone, tail standing straight up, his sharp yips breaking the dawn’s sweet silence.

  Instantly alert, Braldt drew his short sword and gestured to Beast to be quiet. The pup fell back behind Braldt, growling low in his throat, willing to relinquish the lead, but unable to still his voice.

  Braldt crept forward, wondering what manner of creature Beast had flushed out of hiding, perhaps a desert cat or a rock lion, both of whom occasionally ventured into Duroni lands in search of a fatted bullock or a careless herdsman.

  Braldt skirted the edge of the great stone and leaped out into the open, dropping his sword and staring in some confusion at the figure of the girl who crouched there, spear and sword gripped tightly in her own small hands, staring up at him with equal surprise.

  “Keri?” Braldt said in amazement as he recognized his adopted sister. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you. Hoping that you would come this way if you came at all.”

  Her voice faltered as she looked at the terrible scar that swathed his shoulder and the numerous wounds that marked his body, then down at the pup who had not ceased his growling despite the fact that Braldt had made no attempt to kill her.

  “Well, so you have found me,” Braldt said impatiently, his heart hammering in his chest. “What is wrong?”

  “Auslic,” the girl replied in a stammer, dragging her eyes away from Beast. “He is failing. I do not know if he still lives for it was four moonsets ago that he took to his bed. The full Council is gathering and Carn says that Auslic will die, although Father says no. I took him a bowl of Mother’s broth, and when none were listening, he bid me to find you. I dared not venture into the Forbidden Lands by myself and I could but pray that the Guardian Stone and the Moon Mother would protect me and that you would return by this same path.”

  Keri’s bright brown eyes were filled with defiance and the old anger that she had not been born a boy. Braldt knew what it cost her to admit that she had been afraid to enter the empty lands by herself, for throughout her young life Keri had competed with Carn and Braldt and had often bested Ca
rn even though he was older by fully eight moon turns. She had never ceased to resent her mother’s insistence that she don long skirts when she reached the turning age and was always willing to slip away with bow and arrow and spear when she should have been learning to cook and mend and tend to household chores. Braldt admired her fierce nature, so like his own, and felt his heart quicken at the risk she had taken in remaining alone in this isolated and dangerous place waiting for him to return. He doubted that even Carn would have had the courage to do so.

  “What happened,” he asked as he began to pace swiftly toward the city.

  “I don’t know. He fell silent when he learned of Hafnor’s and Solstead’s deaths and he had no interest in his food, even though Mother prepared all his favorites to tempt him and the priests lay their hands upon him. Since then he has not moved but sits in his chair and looks before him, seeing nothing.”

  Keri glanced back at her sleeping bundle and her small pile of possessions and then at Braldt’s back as he drew swiftly away from her and shook her head impatiently as she hurried to catch up with Beast darting in to snap at her heels.

  “I knew it. I should never have gone,” Braldt muttered, blaming himself for Auslic’s collapse.

  “How could you not go, it is your… ow! Braldt, call off your monster, it keeps biting at my ankles! Why have you brought this thing back with you? Ow! Stop!” She turned to swat at Beast and he surged forward and snapped at her fingers.

  “Beast,” Braldt said with a grunt as he swept the pup up and slipped him inside his robes. Immediately the pup’s head emerged from the confining robes and kept Ken in constant view, growling as though to let her know that Braldt was under his protection. “He is with me, now.”

  “So, it would seem,” Keri mumbled with displeasure, glaring at the upturned lip and glistening incisors, as she wiped the smear of blood from her fingertips. “I thought the idea was to kill the tupebeasts, not tame them.”

  Braldt did not reply, saving his energy for the distance yet to be covered and whatever he might find when he arrived.

  4

  The Guardian Stone stood a full day’s travel from the center of the city as did all the stones that ringed the perimeter. In all, there were two hundred and forty Guardian Stones, as many stones as there were moonsets in a full turning, and Braldt had visited all of them during the long years of his youth as he passed through one station and then another of his initiation into adulthood.

  All boys began together in one raw lump, undistinguished from one another, having only their age, five, in common. They were taken from their parents then and reared in communal buildings by the priests and the men who did their bidding, who would decide their futures.

  The priests were silent, never speaking, their features hidden away behind voluminous folds of dark material that swathed them from head to toe. Even their hands were covered by gloves. A large silver plate, an image of Mother Moon, hung in the center of their black robes, not a necklet or even woven into the heavy material, but seemingly fitted directly into their bodies. This emblem was matched by a smaller image on the palm of their right hand.

  Every boy wondered what the priests really looked like beneath the concealing folds of their robes and whether they disrobed at night, but none dared to implement any of the plans that were brewed under the blankets in hushed whispers. There was something mysterious and frightening about the priests, despite the fact that they were Mother Moon’s emissaries, something that could not be defined. But as one grew older, the boys who were now men laughed at the memory of their younger selves and tried to convince themselves that their fears had been nothing more than the overactive imagination of youth. Braldt did not join in that laughter.

  The priests going about their business wrapped in eerie silence, in robes of black and midnight blue, had decided their lives, directing them first into classes where the basics of knowledge and religion were pounded into them. Those who showed quick minds and aptitude were separated from their classmates and advanced to higher classes where they were taught all that their minds could hold of mathematics, geography, religion, history, and philosophy. Those few who excelled were divided yet again and given to the appropriate teachers.

  Those who advanced no further than the first level completed their limited education and were then trained to become the farmers and herdsmen and menial laborers of the tribe. There was no onus in these chores for they were necessary, the basis of the wealth upon which the clan depended for their daily sustenance. But neither was there glory.

  Others became teachers themselves or were slated to join the ranks of bureaucrats who functioned, mostly unseen, in the myriad of chores needed to maintain tribal affairs. A few were chosen to become acolytes to the priests, and while their parents accepted the rare honor with a glad face, in private they wept for they knew that their sons would be sent to the Temple of the Moon and when and if they were seen again, they too would be wrapped in dark robes of silence.

  All boys, even those destined to become priests and scholars, were required to learn the rudiments of battle. But, as with education, those who excelled advanced on to other stations where they were taught all that they could learn. Those few who were the very best, such as Braldt and Carn and a handful of others, would become the protectors, the very backbone of the city-state, sworn to keep it from danger at the cost of their own lives if necessary.

  Only a very few of these boys survived the keen scrutiny and winnowing process of the teachers and priests and went on to form the elite cadre of those who were deemed superior in both mind and body. From these precious few would come the future leaders and Council members of the tribe. Braldt could count himself among those few, as could Carn and four others. Those who had gone before them had already taken their places in the Council or other positions of responsibility.

  Braldt had thought little of his future role in the affairs of the clan for he was content with his life as he knew it. Auslic’s friendship warmed him and fulfilled his need for human companionship, and the duties that took him off into the desolate far reaches of their lands satisfied his need for action as well as solitude. But if Keri’s words were true, his world was about to crumble.

  Braldt himself had no desire for a higher station and dreaded the day when he would be charged to take his place on the Council, for he had no liking for the incessant yammer of voices arguing matters that for him held little interest. Nor could he picture the clan without Auslic at its head. But all men must pass in their time, even Auslic.

  Braldt knew that the title of chief would never pass to him for he was an outsider even though he had spent his life among the Duroni. If Auslic should die, the title would undoubtedly be passed to Carn. Braldt shook off the feeling of dread that accompanied this thought, trying to think of Carn’s good points, trying to convince himself that all would be well.

  Carn was the obvious choice. He was a direct descendant of Auslic. He was intelligent, of that there was no doubt; his bright eyes spoke eloquently of the brilliance that lurked behind them, the sharp, cutting wit and barbed words that flew straight to their mark defeating any reply. Nor was he short of courage and his skill with sword and dagger were well known.

  But there was something dark that lurked in Carn, some hidden anger that rose to the surface under stress and unleased sudden rages that he could not always control. Carn had once killed a man during such a rage, over an imagined slight, and only his unfeigned grief and his father’s influence and several circles of silver had managed to sweep the matter under the table.

  These thoughts and more filled Braldt’s exhausted mind as he drove himself over the last remaining distance into the outskirts of the city. Beast had long ago given himself over to sleep for it was impossible to keep up and Braldt had kept him firmly wrapped inside the sling of his robes. Ken had fallen behind early in the day and though he would have welcomed her presence, he could not afford the delay of waiting for her or matching his strides to those of her ow
n. She had been sent to find him and she would understand his actions. He hoped.

  The open rangeland where the beasts of burden and those who provided meal and drink roamed had long been left behind, their keepers, many of whom were old friends, had raised their spears in greeting as he passed. The long, straight rows of the farmlands had appeared then, the abundant crops of hot time having been gathered in and the pale green shoots of cool time just emerging from the dark soil. Now there appeared the long, low rows of barracks that housed the young boys, serving as their homes and their schools as they grew, determining their futures and the course of their lives.

  The red sandstone circle that was the ring rose up before him, blotting out the sight of the newly risen moon. Braldt could picture the rows upon rows of stone seats that circled the hard-packed earth that lay at the center. The ring. The place where they played, studied, worked, trained, and ultimately fought, pitting themselves against their teachers, one another, and then warriors from other tribes and, occasionally, fierce animals, all for the glory of the Moon Mother. Or so the priests would have them believe. Braldt had his doubts.

  The red sandstone cubes and high-walled circles that were home to the clan came next, the size and number of their cubes and circles dictated by the size of the family that dwelled within. Some families, blessed with numerous offspring and extended marriages, took up entire blocks with their enclaves. Other families, such as Carn’s, were quite small, composed of but four members: Carn; his father, Otius; his mother, Jos; Keri; and Braldt. Each had his or her own cube for sleeping and there was a central cube for the purpose of eating and family matters, but they had no need for their own circular courtyard for they entertained no one but themselves and to Otius’s great sorrow, no grandchildren clung to his fingers or bounced upon his knee.