A Voice That Thunders (Voice that Thunders #1)
Page 1
A Voice
That
Thunders
A Voice That Thunders
Book One
Cully Mack
Copyright
Copyright © Cully Mack Publishing 2019
All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-1-9160970-0-1
This novel is entirely a work of fiction, names, narrative and characters portrayed in it are a work of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to people, living or dead or events and localities is entirely coincidental.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded by any means whether electronic or mechanical without the authors express permission.
Dedication
For my daughters.
In life, let the voice that thunders be your own.
Table of Contents
A Voice
That
Thunders
A Voice That Thunders
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Part 1
*
Prologue
❊ 1 ❊
❊ 2 ❊
❊ 3 ❊
❊ 4 ❊
❊ 5 ❊
❊ 6 ❊
❊ 7 ❊
❊ 8 ❊
❊ 9 ❊
❊ 10 ❊
❊ 11 ❊
❊ 12 ❊
❊ 13 ❊
❊ 14 ❊
❊ 15 ❊
❊ 16 ❊
❊ 17 ❊
❊ 18 ❊
❊ 19 ❊
❊ 20 ❊
❊ 21 ❊
❊ 22 ❊
Part 2
❊ 23 ❊
❊ 24 ❊
❊ 25 ❊
❊ 26 ❊
❊ 27 ❊
❊ 28 ❊
❊ 29 ❊
❊ 30 ❊
❊ 31 ❊
❊ 32 ❊
❊ 33 ❊
❊ 34 ❊
❊ 35 ❊
❊ 36 ❊
❊ 37 ❊
❊ 38 ❊
❊ 39 ❊
❊ 40 ❊
End of Book One
Acknowledgements
About the Author
A Scream That Shatters
Epigraph
For to the thunder resting places were given,
as it awaits its voice,
and the thunder and the lightening are not separated.
And (although) they are not one,
by the wind the two of them go and are not separated.
(1 Enoch 60:11 L14)
Part 1
*
Prologue
Thunder reverberated through the small cave. Gabe stood at its entrance watching a carpet of forest green treetops swishing in the breeze. He often came here with Eran and Tam where they tossed stones or sparred with practice sticks but mainly it was a place to sneak off from their chores.
In the distance, gripped in the mist which pulled the sky down into the sea, dark shadows swayed in the swell on the horizon. He strained to make out their form, imagining a fleet of sailing ships or a congress of leviathans, but they were too far away.
An uneasiness settled in his gut as he sensed their lure summoning him.
Thunder grumbled its last lament.
Gabe entered the cave, collected the empty sack and his cloak drying by the fire pit.
It had been Tam’s idea to stock the cave with firewood. A ritual they now carried out whenever they ascended up through the forest.
Dried earth dusted into the air as he shook out his cloak. Nuri lifted her head and sneezed.
‘Time to go,’ Gabe said.
Nuri yawned and stretched out her front legs. Rising, she circled around searching for the warmest spot to lay back down.
‘No you don’t,’ Gabe said, ruffling the black fur on Nuri’s neck whilst shifting loose dirt with his foot over the tawny embers.
For a young hound she was oversized. Her eyes, one blue, one golden studied him. She considered the warmth of the fire and the icy chill outside before padding out of the cave.
They descended under the forest canopy until they stopped at a small clearing. A wealth of spindling mushrooms had erupted from the damp soil around the edge of an empty boar pit. Gabe’s sack was almost full when Nuri froze. She lowered her lean body, raised her front leg and sniffed the air.
Gabe searched the sound of the forest. Raindrops dripped and bounced off the curling leaves before joining the sizzling chorus of snaps and crackles whispering their secrets along the ground. Bird wings fluttered taking flight. Nuri’s fur raised and quivered on her neck.
‘Stay close,’ Gabe said.
He reached for his sack and a tall man stepped into the edge of the clearing. He leaned against a tree and scraped dirt from under his nails with a quartz stone knife.
Others came from the tree line. Gabe counted seven, but he was sure more stayed hidden in the shadows.
The tall man, he recognised, Lestas. One of Naphal’s latest brigand leaders who came all the way from Radad. He’d recently passed through the rock shelters of Barakel where Gabe lived with his crew demanding a tenth of everyone’s stock.
It had angered Gabe that his Elders surrendered so easily to their demands. They’d loaded a small cart with furs, crab pots, salted fish and pottery, then tethered several goats and sheep to the cart before leaving.
‘What you got there?’ Lestas said, not veiling his conceited judgement as he bobbed his head towards Gabe’s sack.
Gabe scanned the group. If he’d carried a knife, he would have displayed it. Not even a branch on the ground looked strong enough to use as a weapon.
‘Just Shrooms. My Ma is a healer.’
‘I don’t care about your Mother,’ Lestas cut in. ‘Hand them over. We can have fun with them later, right lads.’
He laughed and the others, in a chorus of cackles joined in. Lestas flicked his eyes to a member of the group who stepped forward to grab the sack. Nuri growled, and he halted.
‘Nice sturdy pup you got there. What’s its name?’
‘Look, take the Shrooms,’ Gabe said, lifting the sack.
‘Oh, we will,’ Lestas said, walking towards him. He unhooked a rope from his shoulder, placing it over Nuri’s head. Nuri recoiled, shaking and thrashing against the rope. ‘And we’ll take the pup too.’
Gabe lunged for the rope. An obese lad, body slammed him to the ground. His weight forcing the air out of Gabe’s lungs. With his face pinned to the ground, Gabe watched Lestas struggling to reign in Nuri. Her back now arched as she swayed her neck back and forth against the rope.
‘She’s got some fight in her, I’ll give her that,’ Lestas said, as he kicked Nuri in the ribs. ‘Come,’ he said, turning to leave, ‘we don’t have time for this.’
The lad pushed his knee into Gabe’s back. ‘What do you want us to do with him?’
Lestas scanned the clearing and pointed towards the boar pit.
‘Throw him in there.’
❊
When Gabe came around rain pelted in thick icy droplets, soaking him to the core. Lestas, his thugs, and Nuri were gone. He ran his hands over his body checking for wounds. Blood tipped fingers confirmed what he expected as he felt above his left ear. The severity of the gash was difficult to assess, but it throbbed and ached as much as his ribs, thighs and shoulders. To his relief, nothing appeared to be broken.
A layer of uninhabited crustaceous exoskeletons covered the ground beneath him, and small animal bones crunched under his feet as he stood. A quick assessment revealed protruding tree roots e
scaping from mud slick walls. He tried to climb out, but the roots snapped, taunting him with their betrayal. If he could get back to Barakel and find help, he’d have a chance at saving Nuri.
Thunder voiced its agitation, and the ground slipped out from underneath him revealing the skull of a Repnar. He snapped off the lizard’s hook-shaped snout and dug out hand and footholds. But each time he tried to climb the rain washed the holds away. He shivered, sinking down into the muddy pool now forming in the base of the pit and wondered how long it would be before whoever set the trap returned. If he hadn’t sought shelter in the hideout, none of this would have happened. He’d be home, his belly full, Nuri lazing by the fire pit, Ma and his sister Mirah tending their herbs.
Stars emerged in the night sky and nocturnal insects crept from silent tombs searching for sustenance. Something nipped him. Gabe stood, skin prickling. He swiped his hands over his body flicking off any bugs.
A deluge of rain now poured from the heavens and the water filled the pit up to his ankles. Too exhausted to shiver, he huddled in his sopping wet cloak and sobbed until he didn’t have the energy to sob anymore.
‘I’m sorry Nuri,’ he mumbled.
❊
Hours later a shadow swept over the top of the boar pit. Gabe at first thought it a cloud but it glided too fast. It reappeared, disappeared and reappeared again. With each passing a cold gust of wind swept down into the pit. Whatever it was, it was flying, and it was massive, blotting out the stars as it passed.
A lightning flash lit the sky long enough for Gabe to make out the silhouette of a figure, followed by an oil light hovering over the edge of the pit.
A deep voice asked, ‘Are you all right down there?’
Gabe stayed silent waiting for the thunder to pass. Veiled behind the light, he couldn’t discern who this stranger was. He sat still as if feigning death.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll soon have you out.’
The oil light vanished and squelching footsteps retreated from the boar pit. His low rumbling voice was overtaken by the sound of rustling leaves and the creaking and splitting of wood.
‘Stand back now Son.’
A sturdy coniferous branch lowered into the pit and Gabe resolved himself to the fact that friend or foe he would have to take his chances. As he climbed, he tried to remember the layout of the clearing and the fastest route towards the tree line.
Any chance of escape diminished when he reached near the top and came face to face with a monster. He couldn’t force his eyes away from its elongated bill, filled with rows of conical razor-sharp teeth. A maroon sail-like crest was mounted on its head, and below, two golden eyes studied him.
Gabe hesitated, he considered climbing back down but was too afraid to move. In the darkness he didn’t notice the Hermit until he stepped closer to the edge of the pit, offering his outstretched hand towards him.
‘This is Terra,’ the Hermit said, patting her on the shoulder. ‘She might look terrifying but she’s quite tame for a Dactyr.’
Moonlight reflected off shiny hooked talons that arched over gripping into the soil. Gabe was not convinced.
The Hermit sighed and turned towards the Dactyr. ‘Thank you Terra,’’ he said. ‘I’ll meet up with you later.’
The Dactyr let out an indignant snort, stretched out her leathery wings and ascended into the air.
‘Don’t mind her, Terra can get a bit testy when she feels under appreciated. You’ll get used to it. Let’s get you back to my shelter and cleaned up.’
‘I can’t my Ma will be worried and I have to find Nuri.’
‘Son, this forest at night is too dangerous, you know that, and besides no one will be out searching for you in this storm. You need to eat and dry off those clothes. Leave at first light if that’s what you want.’
The growl in his belly double-crossed him at the mention of food. He analysed the Hermit, of whom he’d heard rumours that he lived somewhere near the borders of Barakel, watching, waiting but never crossing the boundary lines.
Some of the older lads once went to confront him but they’d never found him. Standing here, drenched by the rain, he didn’t seem so mysterious anymore. Something about his seasoned face reassured Gabe that he meant no harm.
‘Until first light,’ Gabe said.
❊
In the morning, Gabe awoke to find himself in a rock shelter similar to his own. The bed he lay on was situated in a recess carved out of the rock and he nestled between a straw mattress and goat skins.
Etched into the limestone walls were unfamiliar symbols and rows of small lines and triangular wedges moving and breathing in tune with a flickering orange glow. The source of which was obscured by the Dactyr curled up on the floor, its neck bent over its immense frame like an elegant bird.
Her dark grey skin was thicker and tougher than any leather he’d seen and he wondered if there were a blade sharp enough to penetrate it until he saw a long scar running down the length of her ribs.
She reminded him of Nuri, relaxed, absorbing the warmth from the fire. But this wasn’t Nuri. This beast could eat him whole.
Off to the side, an old wooden table bowed under the bulk of stacked clay tablets. The Hermit, seated with his back towards him, busied himself by pressing a reed into soft clay.
He turned. ‘Good, you’re awake, and no fever I see.’
Placing the reed on the table he meandered across the shelter and poured water heated within a fire pot into a bowl. He placed the bowl, a torn piece of cloth and a small round cut piece of glass next to Gabe. Gabe examined the glass but wasn’t sure what the Hermit expected him to do with it.
‘I call it a reflector. It’s like looking into a pool of water.’
He lifted the glass. It shocked him to see so much mud mixed with blood covering his face. After rinsing his skin, he inspected the wound above his ear. It was deep but no longer than his thumb nail and would heal in time.
The Hermit picked up a small ladle. ‘I presume you are from the rock shelters at Barakel?’
Gabe placed the reflector onto the goat skins.
‘Would you like some stew? My own recipe, onions, garlic and red deer. Terra caught the deer. She is a wonderful hunter, you know.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’
‘It’s rare, I have the fortune of company.’ The Hermit placed a bowl in Gabe’s hands. He stepped back and frown lines appeared on his shallow forehead, framed between bushy brows and matching silver hair. Hair which had been cut short and revealed larger than average ears. ‘Good, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Gabe replied between slurps.
Not wanting any of the stew to go to waste, he tipped the bowl and sipped at the last remnants before wiping at the juice trickling down his chin.
The Hermit’s face lit up with appreciation. ‘Would you like more?’
‘I need to go.’
‘Oh yes, of course.’ The Hermit collected together some apples, dates and a water skin. ‘I was thinking I should come with you. We don’t want you falling into another boar pit.’
‘I didn’t fall someone pushed me.’
The Hermit darted towards the table shuffling through clay tablets, putting some into a sack, discarding others. ‘Pushed?’
The events of the storm, Lestas, and Nuri, poured from Gabe in frenetic waves, each one more heartfelt than the one before. The Hermit listened whilst brushing his fingers through his thick trimmed beard.
‘I see. And Nuri, she is the one for which you seek help?’
‘Yes. I can’t leave her with them. She is my responsibility… more than that she’s my friend.’
The Hermit’s fingers slid over his mouth and he tapped them against his lips. ‘I know an underground passage that will lead us north of Barakel. It will take a good few hours off your journey. I can show you if you’d like?’
‘What about her?’
‘Terra?’ he said, glancing over at the Dactyr’s heaving body curled up on the floor. ‘She’ll follow above t
he canopy. You won’t even know she’s there. If we’re journeying together, I should at least introduce myself. I am Meciel.’
‘My name is Gabe.’
‘Here take this,’ Meciel said, passing a parcel of food.
He reached for his rod. Terra rose and sauntered towards an opening in the rock wall. The exit opened into a larger cavern.
After they passed through, Meciel turned and raised his rod towards the opening, whispering, ‘Sathar.’
A corona of flaxen light surrounded the void, shimmered, and then the opening disappeared.
Amazed Gabe felt along the cavern wall where the entrance had been. ‘What did you do?’
‘It’s still there. Everything hidden from the eye has its blessing. I wouldn’t want anyone snooping whilst I’m gone.’
‘But how?’
‘I told it to conceal, and it did so.’
‘Like magic?’ Gabe asked, following in Meciel’s footsteps.
‘Not magic. Magic requires tapping into a force other than yourself. When you view physical matter as I do, it’s easy to move it around. One day after you’ve retrieved Nuri, I could show you.’
‘I’d like that.’
Meciel led Gabe through a series of tunnels and they emerged midway along a ravine. They’d been following the Apaqi River downstream for some time when Meciel stopped.
‘Before we go any further, there is something I need to tell you. But first, you need to promise that you will hear what I have to say, all of it, and not run off?’
‘Run off? Why would I?’
‘Promise me,’ Meciel urged, his voice unsettling.
Gabe stared at him, trying to discern a clue, but was met with a face of stone. Meciel refused to say another word until he agreed.
‘I promise.’
Meciel scratched above his ear, making Gabe uneasy.
‘Yesterday during the storm, ships entered the bay. I saw them on the horizon and travelled down the ravine to investigate. I presumed they came seeking shelter. Your people must have gone to assist them unaware of the danger.’