Perhaps I dozed. Perhaps I was delirious with fever. But deep in the night I was abruptly awake and I was not alone.
I couldn’t see it. It was beyond the light of the fire, waiting in the night, circling me, trying to gauge the extent of my weakness. I tensed, sweating in the cool wind, straining for the hushed sound of a footfall, the faint expel of breath, the barest movement of leaves.
To the left—behind me, but the ugappa shielded my back—to the right—pause—behind me again—pause. My hands gripped tightly the handles of my knife and firearm, my heart pounded and my leg throbbed in unison, but I was aware only of the threatening, soft sounds just beyond the perimeter of my sight. I dared not shoot blind.
To the right of me again. Pause.
There was a rustle in the tree overhead, very slight. I could tell by the weight that it was only a mongarr’h, maybe two. I didn’t worry. Heckt’er would be a match for two mongarr’hs. It was the Broghen I must keep him safe from.
Why didn’t it move? Had it circled around behind me again? I turned back to the left and in that moment it rushed from the shadows on my right.
As though in slow motion I swung my firearm, its muzzle drawing a large semi-circle in time, too much time, between the beast’s spring and my aim. A single moment of unreadiness and I was its prey.
It was almost upon me when a small form dropped from the branches overhead. The blade of his knife reflected a gleam from the fire and I heard a snarl of surprise as the knife sank home. The Broghen pulled short its spring and reached for the fierce young hunter clinging to its back.
“No!” I screamed.
But already it had torn loose Heckt’er’s hold and even with Heckt’er’s knife buried to the hilt in its neck it pulled him around and sank its vicious fangs into his throat, bearing him down under it as it fell. I lurched over, afraid to shoot in case I hit Heckt’er. The Broghen was already dying as I clawed it aside frantically, but I fired my last shot into it, then dropped to my knees beside Heckt’er.
“Don’t be a great hunter,” I cried as I gathered his still form into my arms, “Be only my living child!”
*
I couldn’t burn Heckt’er’s body. I carried him, as I had when he was a babe and I first took him into the woods. For a day and a night I walked, carrying my youngling home.
When my leg gave I rested on my knees, bent over his body, till I could rise again. I dropped the first canteen when it was empty, and then the second. When I fell at last and knew I could rise no more, I made a fire. I burned the green wood of the cappa I fell beside. Heckt’er’s body was cold as I lay beside him, as cold as the forest shadows, as cold as the wind that would never wake him again. They found me that way, delirious, almost dead, beside the body of my child.
*
I will no longer hunt but I teach every youth who comes to me to be a fine hunter, better than I.
I teach them that there are four large predators on Wind: the cold-blooded liapt’h that swims in the wetlands, the fierce courrant'h’h that prowls in the mountains, the raging Broghen that hungers to the south, and the hunter who feeds his pride instead of his people.
Hello,
I hope you have enjoyed reading Part I of Walls of Wind.
You can read more of the Bria and Ghen on their planet Wind in ebook or print form. To read the complete trilogy, look for Walls of Wind, by J. A. McLachlan, on your favorite online book store.
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Happy reading!
J. A. McLachlan
Walls of Wind, book I Page 9