Hardt's Tale: A Mobious' Quest Novel

by Gwendolyn Druyor

  Heigna was the most uncertain about her appointment as scout. She apprenticed herself to a roaming beastmaster to learn how she found safe ground for the animals and learned also how to read a beast’s instincts. She volunteered to babysit Tirce’s littleuns in exchange for a few fishing trips into the southern lands to learn how to find solid ground or safe passage in the swamps. Garce, who felt guilty that he had to care for the home and the two youngest plus Ker and couldn’t find the time to join the guard, was gratified when Heigna asked him to teach her about the trees and their uses and how to find her way amongst them. Gree had been the only child interested in woodcraftsmanship so Garce hadn’t much opportunity to pass on his skills. Heigna missed a morning of training to travel with him on an overnight to gather hardwood for guarde staves and other projects he’d put off while the Kyirghon had kept them all from the western woods.

  They were travelling then, on the morning that twenty-season little Calien was struck in the temple with a stone during the lefties’ first slingshot drill.

  It was not uncommon for the children of the shale to watch training, but turnover from first arm to second was highsun and usually the littleuns were expected home for a meal. Calien had come with her mother, a lefty liaison at the time, while her father was hiking with her brother Firth to find their lost cattle. She had snuggled herself into a blanket at the base of an aral tree and fallen into a dose munching on a braid of bread.

  Hardt was the only one who saw the missile hit her. He was collecting flatware from the dispersing front and considering taking some juice over to the girl when blood suddenly spurt from her skull like water from a badly skipped stone. He dropped his armload of dishes, shouted for Jaydee to halt the drill, and grabbed Gaerel from a conversation with Brower. The painfully awakened child was screaming when they reached her. As soon as Gaerel saw the injury, he took the lead from Hardt and sent the boy to fetch clean water and Kalina. Hardt dropped his own healing pouch on the ground by Gaerel before he took off for the waterjug.

  Brower sent Sirte off to find Calien’s father and Noah ran over to help Getek detain Liena, her mother, who was hysterical with guilt, certain she’d hit the child herself. When Hardt returned with the water, he stood so that he blocked Liena’s view of her daughter. He caught the girl’s eye and smiled like there was nothing wrong with the world. Calien was one of Vyck’s favorites and she was easily distracted by attention from Vyck’s number one favorite. She stared up at him with huge eyes.

  “Hardt, keep that up.” Kalina spoke calmly from where he knelt on the opposite side of the girl without taking his eyes from her.

  Gaerel cleaned his cloth in the water and spoke with a relaxed smile in his tone, “Yes, please keep her attention while we convince her skull to heal. Her pain is in our way. See if you can’t make her forget about it.”

  The directions made no sense to Hardt, but he searched his mind for conversation that would distract her from the present.

  “Talk to her, Hardt.” Gaerel ordered hypnotically. “Use her name. Everyone loves their name.”

  “Calien.” He started with no idea in his mind. “Calien, would you like to come home with me later? Vyck has a new tawny pelt she’ll need help brushing.”

  The girl almost smiled and Hardt could see from the corner of his eye the bleeding slowed dramatically. He kept his expression calm despite the shock of the response and tried to think of other happy thoughts.

  “I’ve hoska dough rising in the cubby and I’d love your help braiding them. Then of course the smell of fresh bread cooking should be enjoyed by as many people as possible. We’ll get Hundred and Ker to come too and we can all play tracker with Vyck until the bread is ready and warm and gooey and we’ll spread it with your daddy’s butter and Kiersta’s honeycream and I’ll bet if you tell Vyck how yummy the hoskas are, she might even smile for you.”

  Calien smiled and spoke up, blithely ignoring the healers and the crowd milling about behind Hardt. “I can tickle her.”

  Hardt looked shocked. “You know where Vyck is ticklish?” He worried about getting so personal about his aunt in public, but Kalina was smiling encouragingly at him, so he went on. “Oh, I would love to know that secret. Will you tell me?

  She shook her head no and was shocked by the pain and nausea the motion caused her. Gaerel took a hand from her head and gently rubbed down her back. He intoned, a comforting but distant voice, “Breath Calien. Take a nice deep breath and ask Hardt if Vyck ever giggles for him.”

  She turned her big eyes back up to him and breathed. A few tears were falling from the corners of her eyes.

  Hardt tried a different tack. “Vyck loves you very much and she is lucky you are so good at keeping secrets. I’ll tell you what though, more than hot, fresh hoskas dripping with honeycream, Vyck loves to eat your vla. It is so creamy and light and she laughs and laughs at the surprise fruits you put in there. I would love it if you would make me some to give to her on my birth day so I can make her laugh too. And maybe we can have a small festival and you and Ker and Hundred can tickle her and we’ll all eat hoskas and vla.”

  “And Firth can come too?” The girl asked as Gaerel wrapped a bandage around her head. “And Noah. And Getek?”

  Everyone in earshot smiled at that addition. Kalina wrapped the blanket around the girl and lifted her into his arms, “I think you’ll need some of my magic to get Vyck to stay at that festival.”

  “Then you can come too.”

  The bleeding had stopped and Gaerel had spread some goo on the wound beneath the bandage. He instructed Liena to keep her still until the nausea stopped and gave her some powders to dissolve in water every few hours. He looked exhausted and Calien looked fine. The color had returned to her face and she didn’t appear to be in much pain at all. Kalina handed Calien gently into her mother’s arms with instructions that Liena was to walk slowly and carefully home and there to not fuss over the girl. She was assured that when the runner returned with her bond, they would send him home. As she slowly left center, the guilt-ridden mother was accompanied by Noah and another woman from the lefty arm.

  A mug of something warm was gently pushed into Hardt’s hands as he was led over to a bench at the side of the clearing. He didn’t realize until he sat that his legs had been shaking. On the bench with him were Gaerel and Kalina, both with mugs and both white as winter rabbits. For a moment he tried to figure out what had happened. He’d seen the stone hit. It had bounced off her head with a great deal of energy. A missile with that much force should have cracked her skull. That’s what it was intended to do. It should have killed her.

  But the first arm had returned to their meal and clean up. Jaydee had the second arm back at the slingshot drill, though there were fewer people in each line. Getek was moving from person to person, correcting their technique, discussing their problems, sending some off on invented errands just as he had done during first arm’s training. A breeze shook the leaves at the edge of the clearing and ran over the guardesfolk. A few looked up and wiped their foreheads, grateful for a small break from the heat. The whole center had returned to normal activity as if they didn’t realize that a little girl had almost died.

  Hardt shook his head and turned to Gaerel. “What happened?”

  Kalina answered. “Magic.”

  The three returned to silence for a bit, incapable of explaining their exhaustion. The second front healer, Aminsk, came by with their personal gear and filled their mugs with a cool berry juice. Hardt somehow found the energy to tie his healing pouch back onto his belt as Kalina picked up his hat with effort and returned it to his head. Gaerel sipped the juice and left his gear where it lay.

  “We asked nature to fuse her skull back together.”

  Hardt turned incredulously to the healer who continued to stare forward. “Is that possible?”

  “Well, it seemed to work.”

  “You did magic too, Hardt.” Kalina pointed out. “If you hadn’t gotten her mind to focus on happiness, that i
s to forget the injury, I don’t think we could have healed it. That’s important to note, Gaerel.”

  “So noted.”

  And that is where they were sitting still when Heigna raced into the center, several degrees past highsun with Ker on her back and announced that she and Garce had found four broken kyirghon shells lying half a megg out in the western bos.

  Five

  ∞

  Vyck had been out before the sun to collect the stone she would need to fix the hearth for summer use and then spent the morning tanning the tawny hide as Hardt told Calien. She was cleaning up her tools in anticipation of Hardt’s return to help with the hearth when Garce arrived with Hundred squealing on his back. Her first thought was that something must be wrong with Jaydee for Garce never visited without his bond. Her second thought was that he’d stumbled on the place by accident as she doubted he’d know the way without Jaydee. But the look on his face told her he’d sought her specifically.

  She fetched a cup of water for the man as he caught his breath and scooped Hundred out of the backcarrier. They’d clearly been running for some time and she waited patiently as Garce coughed the journey out of his lungs.

  Hundred bounced in her lap and exclaimed, over and over, “Bird!”

  Vyck agreed with her politely.

  The red was lightening in Garce’s face when he finally caught his breath enough to speak. “We found four eggshells, Vyck. About a half a megg out west. Most of the nest had been picked away or stamped down, but the eggshells were still mostly intact so they can’t have hatched too too long ago.”

  Vyck listened as politely to him as to his daughter, waiting for an explanation.

  Garce exploded at her, “Didn’t anyone ever wonder why the kyirghon was keeping us out of the bos?”

  Now Vyck stood. “Kyirghon eggs.”

  “Yes. Four. Recently hatched. No sign of the female.”

  “Four young kyirghon with no buck to control them. Either they’re going to perish or they’re going to attack.” She thought quickly. “We have to hunt them now, before they grow too big. Let’s go find Hardt and Jaydee.”

  “They’re at center, training. Heigna went to tell the guarde, but I thought you should know first.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re the best.”

  “If I were the best I would have wondered why the kyirghon was keeping us out of the forest.”

  Vyck led the way to center cursing herself the whole time. She was pleased to see the elders controlling the pandemonium at center when they arrived. Many of the younger folks had weapons to hand and were arguing for an immediate foray into the western bos. Some of the guarde were accusing the scouts who had mapped the west of withholding information and when these scouts denied the accusation, they were then accused of incompetence. But the elders were attempting to foster a rational discussion amidst the blame slinging.

  Vyck’s only solution to the ineffectual and inescapable human desire to place blame had always been to take the blame herself. This time she even felt as though a great deal of the blame actually belonged to her and so she strode into the middle of the guarde and took full responsibility for the stupidity and lack of foresight that had left them with three times as many large predators on their western border. She shouted down every voice young and old and Brower. Once she’d gotten their attention, she looked around at each of the leaders and elders she could see and tried to hand the attention, as she handed Hundred, to Jaydee.

  “There, I’m to blame, hate me. Stone me later.” An fortunate choice of words which had an effect she couldn’t understand. Everyone fell silent in reminder of the earlier avoided tragedy. “Now, let us find a solution. Jaydee.”

  “What is your suggestion, Vyck?” Getek stepped forward before Jaydee could speak.

  She was thrown, again, by the man and looked around for an escape. But all the faces were looking to her expectantly as well. Hardt’s face was not in the crowd. Jaydee encouraged her with a nod, shifting the now zonked out Hundred in her arms.

  “They’re infants. Like all babies, they sleep much of the time. I suggest we run them hard and feed them and then kill them in their sleep. Unless… “

  The man’s eyes were too interested, too gentle, “Yes?”

  “Unless we could run them far enough off to not bother us. Perhaps we could let her keep a couple of her babies.”

  Getek nodded and turned to his guarde, “Frair, imagine I have just made this decision. What are the pros and cons?

  “Getek, we don’t know the temperament of the young kyirghon or their dam. Running them will exhaust us before it exhausts them. Do we know how to feed kyirghon? How far will be far enough for them to no longer be a threat to us and how many do we allow to live? Running them would be easier than trying to hunt them down. Killing them in their sleep will be safer for us. Could we poison the food we give them? It does seem an unnecessary cruelty to kill them all when they haven’t yet bothered us and it would be nice to get a good distance away from the shale for a while.”

  “Brower, what is our first step in implementing and clarifying the plan?”

  “We find the kyirghon.”

  Heigna spoke up as scout before Getek polled her. “I can find them. I suggest we make camp at the nest.”

  “Shall I gather supplies?” Hardt had walked his weary self into the discussion to protect Getek from his aunt.

  “If the elders agree, then we should leave tonight.” Getek looked to the oldest members of the second arm waving down Jaydee’s worried apology that Stray had no formal elders. The elders Getek asked gave their assent.

  Gaerel’s weary voice spoke up from the bench. “I’m afraid, as healer, I must insist that the front’s healer and provident get some rest before departure.”

  “Right. Sirte, you and Heigna will work together as provident for this evening’s journey. See that you gather enough supplies for a moon. We may return soon for the rest of the arm or we may drive the kyirghons ourselves. Vyck,” Getek turned to the woman who had almost managed to melt into the crowd, “you are invited to join us as the plan is yours. I know we would appreciate another good hunter.”

  She didn’t see him holding his breath as she answered. “No. You’re taking Hardt, I’ll take Ker.”

  He turned away, keeping the disappointment from his face. “Alright, first arm, you aren’t even officially supposed to be here so go prepare for first front’s departure. Second arm, you are dismissed until tomorrow at highsun. Jaydee, I’ll need to speak with you. First Front will meet here at sundown.”

  As the crowd dispersed, Vyck found Hardt and took his sack from him. Getek broke away from the guarde and caught them just into the trees at the edge of center. He stopped them with a hand on Hardt’s back, not wanting to shout.

  “Good work today, Hardt. I’ll want to know more about what happened later. Vyck, I… thank you for taking Ker. May I bring him by before sundown?”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t even look at him.

  Six

  ∞

  Starlight glittered down through the thick crush of new leaves three megg southwest of Stray. Hardt could no longer see the waning moon where it hung low in the western sky, leading the others away from that nights’ camp. If he listened hard he could still hear Gaerel’s unpracticed stealth. He stopped listening and went back to cleaning up the evening meal. The real sounds of the woods wouldn’t come alive until he’d completed his noisy work. Then he would sit on the fallen tree and sharpen new shortsticks, feeling the night forest come to life around him accepting him as part of their world until Sirte returned with the roots Gaerel needed to heal Heigna’s poisoned cuts. He’d sleep then, when she returned to keep watch. Brower would take the watch when the guarde returned from the nights’ search for sleeping kyirghon and Hardt would waken with the sun for the morning watch.

  For three suns they’d been following the kyirghon tracks, but had failed to encounter any kyirghon they could hunt or herd
. Near the second sundown, Sirte had returned with news from a forward scouting Heigna that the remains of a young kyirghon buck had been found. When the rest of the seven reached the corpse, consensus was that it had been brought down by one of the predator cats.

  Hardt’s feeling was that the three remaining babes and their dam were headed well away from Stray lands quite voluntarily making the guarde’s chase unnecessary. But the others were enjoying the little adventure and Hardt was happy to be away from training and as provident he got to spend a great deal of time away from the others, hunting and setting up camp and such. The solitude suited him fine.

  He couldn’t remember another time when he’d been around so many other people so often as he had during the past season of training. As far back as he could recall it had been he, Vyck, and the forest. The occasional customer or Mytree would drop by their cottage now and again, but until six frseason ago when Garce and Jaydee had proposed official status for the countryshale and the festival that had inaugurated the full moon meetings, Vyck and he had never looked to other people for anything, making do with what they could themselves provide.

  Vyck still stayed separate when she could. She sent Hardt to offer the trades she’d remained uneasy about right up until the day barely six seasons ago, when he’d discovered Kiersta’s honeycream. Kiersta wanted a warm coat for the dead season, but Vyck had no use for cakes or candy. During negotiations, trying to find some even bargain, Hardt found himself making some deliveries for the chef. In appreciation, she gave him a very small pot of a new pastry spread she’d created. Half a moon later, a beautiful, full-length, waterproof winter fur showed up in Kiersta’s shop with a request for more honeycream, when she got a chance.