Merkiaari Wars: 01 - Hard Duty

by Mark E. Cooper

  “Keep it and watch then. I am going hunting. We need to eat before we leave.”

  Marsali clutched the computer and indicated agreement, her ears flicking in the common gesture, but her tail also curled around one leg. She was nervous indeed; it was a youngling thing to do. Shima wanted to find Nevin and ask him to watch with his mate. Marsali didn’t seem completely confident of what she wanted, but Shima decided to see how she performed. No point in undermining her before she even tried.

  Shima slinked silently through the trees, keeping low and moving slow as she stalked her prey. It was a decent sized male Shkai’lon, and could be dangerous. They were fast too. She was upwind of him and determined to hamstring him on her first pass. Shkai’lon weren’t indigenous to Child of Harmony, but they had thrived here. The first colony ships had brought all manner of animals from Harmony for the colonists to eat. Back then no one knew if they could even eat the native plants and animals. As it turned out, certain species were poisonous, but in the main they could. When the Merkiaari came, everything was shattered. Farms and towns were abandoned. Animals such as this one’s ancestors had escaped the pens and bred in the wild. No doubt some of the native life had lost their place in the ecosystem, some even becoming extinct as Shan nearly did, but a surprising number did not and fought back until the current balance was reached. All of which was good news from Shima’s point of view. She was hungry and Shkai’lon were tasty.

  Shima stopped, buried in shadow and underbrush, only her gleaming unblinking eyes visible in the gloom. She had taken off her visor as she always did on the hunt, but this time it was for a different reason. Since her accident in Zuleika she had entered a whole new realm of paranoia where her sight was concerned. She had always feared blindness ever since she learned the long term prognosis of her condition, but now she’d had a small taste of it. She never wanted to be so helpless again. The hated visor was now a lifeline she dare not let out of her possession, but at the same time she feared damaging it. Tahar would not rescue her with another visor or repair it if broken. So once again it was safe on her harness.

  Like Shkai’ra, Shkai’lon were herbivores, but unlike their smaller cousins Shkai’lon had formidable weapons and bad dispositions to match. They were dangerous as all get out, and would fight even when the odds were bad. A bit like her people in that way, Shima mused watching the delicious creature use his spurs to grub in the dirt for roots. Those spurs were deadly in a close in fight, the only kind to be had between Shan and Shkai’lon. The rack upon his head and the sharp hooves were also something to be wary of. If a Shkai’lon was cornered or chased toward exhaustion, they would turn at bay and put up a murderous blur of flashing hooves and swinging antlers. Many a hunter had died to pull such a beast down.

  The great head dipped to eat the now exposed roots. Shima gathered herself and sprang with fore-claws out already slicing toward the back of one hind leg, but the creature had the luck of the Harmonies on his side. At the very last moment he must have picked up her scent. He shied sideways, his rear legs kicking out. Shima tucked her head taking a glancing but painful blow to one shoulder. She tumbled, rolled on her back then to all fours. Her rumbling growl climbed into a scream of pain, as feeling slowly returned to her arm. Her own coppery blood perfumed the air.

  Shima dodged left, right, left. The Shkai’lon backed away swinging his head to keep her covered. Canny beast, Shima thought in admiration. She pivoted aside and ran straight up a tree. Just as gravity decided that no, she could not run up a vertical surface for so long, she pushed off turning in the air with all four legs spread wide and claws out. The marvellous beast ran, but too late. Shima landed just behind him, catching his haunches with the claws of her hands and digging in.

  The Shkai’lon bounded through the trees, crying its distress call, alerting any of his herd to scatter. Shima didn’t care about that. It was all she could do to hang on. Even dragging her he was fast! She knew that Kazim would not have been able to keep up. Kazim was not here, only she was and dinner was bleeding under her claws. It was up to her.

  Her back legs scrabbled trying to run, but there was just no way. They were moving too fast. She was barely hanging on. Her weight, borne by the claws embedded in the Shkai’lon’s tough hide threatened to tear loose as she was dragged through the forest. She winced as her legs hit all manner of roots and brush, but even as she considered letting go, she managed to pull herself up higher onto the beast’s back. She bit down, trying for a better hold with fangs so that she might at least reset her claws, but the tough muscle around the animal’s spine resisted her. She couldn’t get a decent mouthful. She spat blood and bit harder.

  Blood slicked its hide, and Shima knew if she could hang on long enough it would weaken, but she didn’t have that luxury. Knowing her luck, the beast would run right through a Merkiaari patrol. Finally she managed a decent hold with her teeth and withdrew the claws of one hand. She reached higher on the beast and clawed his back, ripping his hide and making him cry out in terror. She was about to pull herself fully onto his back when he slammed into a tree.

  Shima flew over his shoulder and hit the ground rolling. The impact winded her, but she had enough awareness to move behind the tree before the Shkai’lon stomped her. It hooves barely missed her, but they did miss and Shima was able to get to safety. The Shkai’lon was enraged now. Its panic had turned to fury, and Shima’s heart sank. This was why her ancestors hunted in packs and not alone. It would kill her now if it could.

  It slammed its antlers into the tree, tearing bark free, and then reared onto its hind legs to rake its spurs at Shima. She dodged, and circled the tree keeping its bulk between them. The Shkai’lon rammed the tree again, this time with a shoulder, and Shima swung around the tree to land a blow. This time she didn’t miss. The hamstring let go and the leg collapsed under the furious beast. It squealed and snapped at Shima as it fell. She jumped clear and stopped to consider her next move.

  Shima rubbed her shoulder and warily stepped away as the crippled beast tried to reach her. He was one very angry dinner, Shima thought ruefully. She inspected her injury and decided that, although bloody, it wasn’t serious. The Shkai’lon bellowed at her, then hissed and snapped his teeth at her. Shima growled, the noise might attract unwanted attention. She darted forward and back, her claws dripping scarlet, and the beast quieted. A spray of blood pulsed from the artery in its neck. It moaned plaintively and slumped. Shima edged forward to provide the killing blow, and howled as the beast had his revenge. The spur caught her in the thigh, and ripped a ragged line through her hide. Shima yelled and leapt clear, ready to fight anew, but it was all over. The Shkai’lon was done. He fell on his side panting and pumping the last of his spite and blood onto the ground.

  Moments later his fierce mind glow dimmed and was extinguished.

  “Harmonies be praised,” Shima said wincing as she put weight on her leg.

  It would be her back leg, she thought unhappily. She needed to walk upright if she was going to carry meat back to the others. She looked thoughtfully at dinner. Or did she? She had her knives. She could clean her kill here, butcher it, and take the best cuts. Why not make an old fashioned drag sled? Tahar had shown her how, though it was really for dragging someone who was injured to safety. It was one of many things she had learned as part of her hunting and survival lessons.

  She quickly set about her task.

  Shima dragged dinner back to the cave and found Kazim waiting for her. He had his thrice cursed camera out and filming her. What was it with that male? He seemed unable to lay it down for longer than a seg or two.

  “You’re hurt!” Kazim said, still recording.

  Shima sighed. “That’s all right, I can drag this myself. No no! You don’t need to help, thanks for the offer.”

  She glared at him as she struggled past. The sled with its burden was cursed heavy. Her fault for loading too much of her kill aboard it, she admitted privately. She had wanted to impress Kazim, she realised now. He d
idn’t seem impressed however.

  “How bad is it?”

  Shima sighed again, and stopped struggling with the sled. It was just inside the cave. Good enough, she decided.

  “I’m not hurt,” she said and stood up, letting go of her burden. Pulling the sled on four feet had definitely been the right way to do it, but now she winced as the ragged tear in her leg made itself felt. “Much,” she added at Kazim’s sharp look.

  Kazim examined her kill and his jaw dropped into a laugh. “Oh this is good. You forgot, didn’t you?”

  “What?” Shima said looking at her kill. “There’s enough here for all of us. Plenty to reach the keep.”

  “No, you forgot we’re in the wilds not a sanctuary.”

  Shima rolled her eyes, as if she didn’t know they were in the wilds. They were hiding from Merkiaari in a cave for harmony’s sake. She let Kazim see her derision and he laughed again.

  “If you knew, oh wondrous hunter of fine meat, why didn’t you just shoot it?”

  Shoot it? Shima suddenly realised what he meant and her ears sagged in embarrassment. She could have used her beamer to kill it the first moment she saw it. They were in the wilds and hunting laws didn’t apply. Besides, even if they had been in a sanctuary, no one would have expected her to follow the law under these circumstances. Her spirits sank as she realised what a fool she had been.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Kazim said kindly. “I’m sure it was an epic fight.”

  That made her feel worse. The Shkai’lon could easily have killed her during his run, and later she had stepped into his range to deliver the killing blow when a single blaster shot would have done just as well. She hadn’t even thought of the beamers holstered on her harness. She had hunted without her visor on as if it had been just another hunt like those she had been on with Tahar. If she had kept her visor on maybe she would not so easily have fallen into old patterns, but maybe not too. She sighed morosely.

  “It nearly killed me more than once, Kazim. I was stupid. You are right.”

  “I didn’t say that!” Kazim protested.

  “No, but you should have. I hunted the way I was taught. I should be thinking clearer than that. It won’t happen again.” Shima promised herself not to forget herself again. If she had died, who would look after Chailen? Sharn would, she supposed. “Help me take this to the others?”

  Kazim picked up the two largest and heaviest portions, the back legs, and took them deeper into the cave. Shima followed with other portions, leaving the rest for later.

  Marsali was watching the map intently as Shima and Kazim came in view. She didn’t look up, but her shoulders relaxed a little. She had obviously seen Shima approaching on the screen, but hadn’t been sure it was her. Probably that was why Kazim had come out to greet her. Nevin came to investigate the meat.

  “There’s more back there,” Shima said indicating the entrance with her tail. “If we need it.”

  “I’ll get it,” Rahuri volunteered and headed that way.

  “Don’t go outside!” Nevin called after her.

  “I won’t! Don’t worry, father.”

  Shima watched the youngling go then handed her burdens to the others. “I should go back to my watch.”

  “But you’re injured,” Nevin said.

  “It’s nothing,” Shima said.

  “At least bathe them. They might get infected.”

  Shima hesitated, but it was time she started thinking and acting smart. Nevin had a valid point, so she would take his advice and do the smart thing for once. She flicked her ears in agreement, and headed toward the spring.

  “Are we to eat this raw, father?” Miamovi said doubtfully.

  “Yes, ‘movi. It won’t hurt you to eat as our ancestors did. Try a little, you’ll like it.”

  Shima paused to watch, smiling inwardly. The youngling was in for a treat. Fresh meat seasoned only by still warm blood was delicious. The youngling tentatively bit into the dripping haunch of meat, her ears halfway back, but as soon as she had the taste, she ripped a chunk free and chewed with eyes narrowed in pleasure.

  “It’s wonderful!” Miamovi enthused. “We should eat this way all the time!”

  “No,” Shima said. “It’s only this good when the kill is fresh. You should try meat that you bought in the market and see.”

  “Bad?” the youngling said taking another bite.

  “Let’s just say it loses a lot in processing.”

  Nevin growled and laughed at the understatement.

  Shima shared the joke. Processed meat never tasted good unless cooked well and was heavily seasoned, but that was the price of civilisation and animal husbandry.

  “Actually, we could cook some of this,” Shima said thoughtfully. It would help preserve the meat. “This fresh it will taste great either way.”

  “But setting a fire now, what about the smoke?” Kazim said.

  “No fire!” Shima said in alarm. “Absolutely no fires until we are safe. Gather a bed of rocks and heat them with this,” she said and gave a beamer to Kazim. “Cut the meat about a finger width thick, and cook it on the rocks. The juices will sizzle a bit, but there won’t be much smoke.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  “Positive. I saw Tahar do it once.”

  “I wish I could have met your father,” Kazim said softly.

  “So do I, Kazim. You two would have become fast friends.” Shima looked back as Rahuri reappeared with more of the meat. “I’m going to wash.”

  * * *

  24~The Keep

  Kachina Twelve, Child of Harmony

  Shima stood guard at one of the many tunnel entrances to the keep, not caring about, and not really understanding, the strange looks she was getting from the warriors sent to greet her. She had vowed not to relax until Kazim and the others were safe. The warriors would just have to understand. Besides, Nevin would be joining his family inside in a moment, and Shima was sure Kazim would get tired of fiddling with his camera shortly. He would want to contact his own family to tell them he was safe, and after that, he would be busy talking to anyone who would answer his questions. They would probably never meet again. Keeps were big places after all. Shima told herself she would welcome the peace his departure would lend her.

  “You have harboured and protected my mate and cubs, risked your own life to bring us to safety,” Nevin was saying. “I call you friend, Shima, and would be honoured if you will consider me yours also. There is no debt between us.”

  “But Merrick—” Shima began.

  “Died a hero’s death to free his sibs,” Nevin said firmly.

  Shima did agree with him about Merrick, but... “If you are sure you want it that way.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then I agree there is no debt, but call on me at need. Friends help one another, and you are one of mine.”

  Nevin bowed and took his leave of her.

  Shima watched him go thoughtfully. He was a very proud person, yet had bowed to her as if she were the superior. It made her vaguely uncomfortable, as if she were pretending to be other than she was.

  “Well,” Kazim said. “You did it.”

  Shima looked at him sideways. Wonder of wonders, no camera. “It?”

  “Dragged me to safety.”

  Shima rolled her eyes. Kazim couldn’t see that of course, her visor hid her eyes. “Truly, it was a feat worthy of the sagas. You were determined to kill us so often.”

  “Sarcasm is for the weak minded,” Kazim said loftily. “I wasn’t that bad.” The watchers all laughed and laughed harder at Kazim’s outrage at their mockery. “Well I wasn’t!”

  Shima wondered exactly why they laughed. It wasn’t as if they knew what she had to do to drag Kazim to Kachina Twelve. Well, one of its many access points actually. The mountains and surrounding area was riddled with tunnels. Not all led into the keeps of the Kachina chain. A lot did of course, but many were traps for the Merkiaari; others led to supply bases and defensive installations. Access t
o those was restricted to warrior caste exclusively. No others had the codes necessary to enter them. Shima and the others had been led to this entrance by a patrol whose mission it was to gather strays like Shima’s group. In the chaos, many people had been caught out of position and unable to reach their assigned keep, but the likelihood of such a thing had been planned for. Shima had meant to search for a patrol just like this one when she was close enough, and for once everything had gone to plan.

  As they followed the warriors along the tunnel and deeper into the ground, she felt tension ease and her step become lighter. The Harmonies were telling her all was well now, even thoughts of Chailen failed to make her anxious. The Harmonies were with her sib, not the other way around. She was certain now. She hoped for Chailen’s sake that Sharn was well, and that his family were also. Chailen was sure to have heard about the destruction of Hool Station and Tahar’s death by now, but at least Sharn was there to comfort her.

  “Why are they looking at me like that?” Shima said feeling faintly annoyed as they passed through another security checkpoint with its massive door and heavy beamers tracking them all. The warriors stationed here were whispering and pointing at her. “What’s their problem; is my face dirty or something?”

  Kazim’s tail lifted and signed over his shoulder in the universal gesture that meant, “don’t bother me, I haven’t got a clue.”

  “Yeah well, I don’t like it,” Shima said, quietly. At least she thought so, but evidently not quietly enough because Patrol Leader Kotanic dropped back beside her.

  “It’s the broadcasts,” Kotanic said.

  “Huh?” Shima said confused. “What is?”

  “The reason for their interest in you. It’s the broadcasts.”

  Kazim’s ears gave him away. Shima stopped and grabbed his arm. “What did you do?”

  Kazim brushed off her grip in evident annoyance. “You knew I was recording, Shima. I interviewed you more than once and how many times did you tell me to turn it off? You knew.”