by Marcus Lee
Maya laughed, and Taran thought it sounded like sweet music as she turned to him. ‘Taran,’ she said, and leaned in close, taking his arm. ‘Do you trust me?’
Taran paused, thinking for a moment, not wanting to give a glib answer, yet realised with surprise that despite hardly knowing Maya, he did trust her. Without even knowing why at the time, he’d opened up, voicing all the painful secrets locked away inside, and then she’d reciprocated. Something was growing between them, and he wanted it to grow more.
‘Well, do you?’ she prompted, a little frown of impatience at his delay caused a small furrow of grime to appear between her eyes.
Taran nodded, and was relieved to see the furrow, even if not the grime disappear.
’Well then,’ Maya said, smiling again. ‘Close your eyes and promise not to open them until I say so.’
‘I promise,’ agreed Taran, doing as instructed, and reached out a hand to steady himself against a tree.
He barely heard Maya as she moved away and was tempted to peek. Yet a promise was a promise, and Taran knew in his heart that he never wanted to break one with Maya, so he carefully lowered himself to the ground, eyes closed.
Maya was a consummate hunter, and if it weren’t for her gentle humming and soft singing, he wouldn’t have known she was mere steps away, such was the softness of her tread. Her musical voice lulled him, and the smell of the decay that had seemed sickly sweet now seemed a heady perfume instead, and he found himself drift toward sleep.
‘Are you seriously snoring?’ asked Maya, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Taran just caught himself from opening his eyes and shook his head. ‘No. Sleeping, me, never. Not while I’m guarding your body!’
Maya’s voice and breath were suddenly close to his ear, and it tickled softly. ‘Well then, as you are not asleep my prince, open your eyes and see.’
Taran opened his eyes, closed them, and opened them again. ‘Truly you are gifted by the gods to have such a power,’ he said, then stood slowly, gazing down at the scene below.
The foul-smelling pool was now pure and clear, no sign of corruption whatsoever. The water trickling down the rocks sparkled like crystal even in the dim light, over vibrant moss which had white flowers sprinkled throughout. All around the banks of the pool, grass now grew, and healthy bushes with verdant leaves flourished everywhere. Even the tree upon which he’d leaned stood firm, and the scent of freshness filled the air to replace the smell of decay.
‘Now, be a good bodyguard and help fill the skins!’ Maya laughed, as she tossed some to him, and they both moved down to the water’s edge.
Taran knelt next to Maya as they held the skins under the surface. As Taran filled the last one, he held up a hand.
Maya looked at him, enquiringly. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘The smell of decay is back.’ Taran cupped some water in his hand and brought it to his face and sniffed. ‘Something smells very wrong.’
A worried look crossed Maya’s face. ‘Really?’ she asked, and bent forward to scoop some water in her hand.
As she did, Taran leaned over, placed his hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her into the pool. She came up spluttering and screeching in indignation.
‘Now,’ said Taran, sniffing the air. ‘That’s a little better. But it’s going to take more than a small dip to get you clean,’ and reaching forward, he put his hand on Maya’s head, and gently pushed down.
‘Don’t you dare!’ she laughed, reaching up to push his hand away, but suddenly she grabbed his arm instead, and pulled him in.
As he came up coughing out water, Maya sniffed the air. ‘Now, that’s a lot better!’ and they both laughed as they splashed one another.
‘Oh my,’ said Maya. ‘It’s been so long since I was clean, and you too by the looks of it. Let’s clean up.’ She reached to the bank and pulled two small plants from the soil and gave one to Taran.
‘What am I supposed to do with this?’ asked Taran, wondering if he should eat it, then started to put it in his mouth.
Maya laughed. ‘Don’t eat it. Now watch.’ With that, she broke the stem and squeezed, so that the pulp oozed into the palm of her hand. She put the rest of the plant on a rock, then rubbed her hands together, producing a sweet-smelling lather that she scrubbed onto her face. She splashed water over herself shortly after, then dropped her hands. ‘See?’
Taran recoiled in horror. ‘What have you done to yourself!’
Maya’s hands swept up to her face, questing. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, worried.
‘You’ve made a clean spot.’ Taran winked. ‘Now you’re now going to have to work on the rest. Maybe you’ll freshen up quite nicely given a lot of work.’
Maya wrinkled her nose at him, and carried on scrubbing, as Taran started to follow suit.
As they washed, she watched Taran out of the corner of her eye and had to admit to herself that she liked him a lot. She’d never been friends with a boy in her village, or anyone at all for that matter, staying far removed in case anyone discovered her gift. Yet here they were, sharing a cleansing, and she felt something was growing between them.
He wasn’t the best looking man she’d ever laid eyes on, but his humour, his voice, his kindness, and not forgetting the fact he’d been about to die for her, created feelings she’d never previously experienced.
She watched as Taran pulled his shirt over his head. Now there was another reason to like him, those broad shoulders and muscular arms.
Taran started to wash his shirt, and Maya realised that if she just washed herself, she would still smell.
‘Time to guard my body while looking in the other direction,’ she commanded, then ushered him to do an about-face. She took off her top, enjoying the feel of the cool water lapping against her bare flesh, then hesitated a moment before slipping out of her leggings. She turned her back on Taran as he started doing the same.
They washed fast then, and Maya sighed as she realised they needed to hurry. After putting her wet clothes back on with difficulty, she turned around to see Taran already clothed with a silly smile on his face. Maya felt her face burn bright red. ‘How long were you looking?’ she demanded, her eyes flashing.
Taran laughed, ‘For about as long as a piece of twine, maybe short, maybe long. What is it about women that they take so long to wash?’
‘Yooooou!’ hissed Maya, splashing Taran.
Taran reached out with his hands gently taking her shoulders. ‘Do you trust me?’ he asked.
Maya laughed, recognising her own words. ‘Let me think. Do I trust the man who pushed me headfirst into a pool, and who sneaked a look behind my back? I’m not sure!’
She saw the beginnings of hurt in his eyes and decided not to tease him anymore, not just now anyway. ‘Yes, I trust you.’
‘Well then, turn around and close your eyes,’ said Taran. ‘Don’t open them until I tell you to.’
Maya turned around in the water, and Taran’s strong hands encouraged her to lean back against him. She lay her head back on his chest and felt his heart beating powerfully.
Taran’s voice was soft and close to her ear as he said. ‘You seemed to have washed almost everywhere, and I do mean everywhere because I checked, but you forgot to wash your hair.’
With that, she felt his fingers start to massage the fragrant pulp carefully into her scalp. Had her eyes been open at that stage, they would have closed anyway, for the feeling was so soothing that she wanted to purr like a cat.
As Taran washed her hair, he told her a tale from his youth. The sound of his voice, the rhythm of his hands, the fragrance of the plant all relaxed her so much that she slipped into a light sleep. A short time later, Maya opened her eyes to see Taran’s face looking down on her.
‘If I snore like a bear,’ he said, eyes twinkling, ‘then, you snuffle like a piglet.’
‘A piglet!’ Maya exclaimed in indignation. ‘A piglet?’
Taran nodded. ‘I don’t know if you realise thi
s, but I rather like piglets.’
Maya found herself unable to meet Taran’s gaze. ‘I rather like bears too,’ she whispered.
Maya stood up, turning slowly in Taran’s arms. They were so close that their noses almost touched, and she could feel his warm sweet breath on her face.
His hands moved to the back of her neck as he looked into her eyes, and Maya felt her insides flutter as if suddenly filled with a thousand butterflies. She leaned forward on tiptoes, and her lips found his, her eyes closed, as she wished the moment would last forever.
-----
Rakan had finished breaking camp. He’d gathered the packs together and then spent a moment trying to disguise the fact they’d been there before giving up. It was a lost cause before he even started. The vegetation was all green thanks to the girl's gift and yesterday’s trail led right to it, and yet it was a habit from many years of soldiering and training.
Taran and Maya were taking too long, but for some reason, Rakan wasn’t as worried as he would typically be.
Let them have a little time alone together, he thought, smiling to himself. They seemed well suited, and it would be the last bit of respite before they pushed hard again over the next few days while the provisions lasted.
Rakan picked up the three heavy packs and grunted with the effort. He decided to follow Maya and Taran’s trail, to save time by meeting them on their return. There were some simple rules when tracking someone. Not staying directly on the trail itself for a long time was a key one, for it was too easy to walk into an ambush that way. Better to follow from a short distance if the trail was easy to follow, and only return if there was a risk of losing it.
Even though Rakan wasn’t likely to get ambushed by Taran or Maya, from habit he still kept a good five paces to the right of the route they’d taken. The new growth of green even after such a short time since Maya had passed gave the trail away, so it wasn’t difficult to follow even from a distance.
As he trudged along, he grumbled to himself about how far they’d gone, but at least it was still eastward in the direction they needed to go. The packs were uncomfortable, one slung on each shoulder and one in his hand, and he decided to take a brief break.
He stepped around a large tree and lowered himself to the ground, still appreciating the fact that his knees didn’t pop or his back complain any more. He owed the girl for this, and it was a gift he wouldn’t forget. Having lived with pain every day for so many years, its absence was a marvel. He sat for a short while, wondering whether to wait here until the others returned when he heard them moving through the trees not too far away. He was about to call out, but suddenly realised that the sounds were back along the trail toward the camp. Unless they had somehow got past him or taken a different route back, then this might not be Taran and Maya!
Rakan eased himself to his feet quietly, slowly drawing his sword and dagger. The temptation to look around the trunk was hard to resist, but that was a sure way to be spotted. Instead, by waiting until whoever it was passed by, he would remain undetected. It wasn’t long before he felt convinced that this wasn’t Taran and Maya. That the two unknowns were familiar to woodland was apparent, for they made little noise as they moved, but therein lay the giveaway. Maya made no noise at all whereas Taran moved like a bear, and Rakan smiled slightly as he remembered Maya likening Taran’s snoring to one.
Maybe these were just two people from a local settlement out hunting and weren’t any threat? He stood as still as possible in the shadow of the tree as they passed on the far side of Maya and Taran’s trail, and then all doubts as to their intentions disappeared.
One, a woman, held a bow, arrow nocked to the string, and next to her a man carried a long spear. This in itself wasn’t unusual, but the fact they brought no foraging pouches or pack, and that there was a sword at their hips which no plain villager would be allowed, meant these were hunters of men.
Luck had favoured Rakan, for if they had decided to follow Taran and Maya’s trail on the right side, they would have come upon his, and would likely have put an arrow between his shoulder blades before he knew they were even there.
Rakan waited until they were a little further ahead, and as they passed behind a tree, stealthily crossed the trail, staying low, keeping out of their peripheral vision until he was behind them by about thirty steps. He followed stealthily and matched their footfall with his own, so any noise he made was masked. He took long strides to close the distance. So intent were they on looking ahead at the trail as they searched for their prey, that they never thought to look behind to see danger getting closer.
The archer was the most dangerous one of the two. Armed with only sword and dagger, Rakan needed to get close to make a killing blow, but with no shield to protect himself, the archer could kill him at a distance. The spearman was less of a concern, a thrown spear could be evaded, and if used as a close combat weapon Rakan wasn’t worried about that either.
He’d closed the gap to twenty paces, knowing to get closer risked being heard, but the problem was the longer he followed, the greater the chance one of them would turn and see him. If they did, he’d be seeing the nine hells far sooner than he wanted.
The problem was how to get close without getting an arrow in his gut. Then suddenly he saw his chance. The two hunters started to push through a dense thicket of brambles and vines that hung down to the forest floor. They ducked down low, trying to avoid the grasping tendrils and thorns.
Rakan made up his mind in an instant and charged. He didn’t roar or shout, just plunged ahead, sprinting along the trail. After just a few strides, the hunters swung around in alarm as they heard him bear down upon them. The archer started to raise her bow while the spearman did the same with his weapon, intending to use it to keep Rakan at bay while his comrade delivered the fatal shot.
Yet Rakan’s timing paid off, for as both tried to make ready, the grasping undergrowth fouled their long weapons. The man, realising this first, dropped his spear, and frantically grasped for the hilt of the sword at his waist, while the archer desperately tugged at her bow, trying to untangle it, and this proved deadly for them both.
Rakan kept silent, not knowing if there were any other hunters close by and covered the final steps. His dagger plunged into the spearman’s eye just as the man’s sword cleared its sheath and he dropped like a stone, dead in an instant. His sword then swept down, not aiming for the archer, rather he slashed it through the vines, smashing the woman’s weapon as it passed through to clear his own passage. She threw herself backwards, hands raised placatingly in a gesture of surrender, but Rakan didn’t hesitate, and thrust his sword through the woman’s right hand, down through her throat, and out the back of her neck.
The fight was over in moments, and Rakan swiftly dropped to his knees, looking around, waiting for the gurgling of the dying archer to stop so he could listen for any sound of movement, but as far as he could tell, there was no one else. Part of him regretted not keeping one of them alive to question, but he’d had no idea how skilful they might be, or if there were others close by who would have taken the distraction to put him down.
Satisfied there were no others, at least not close enough to be a threat, Rakan thought about hiding the bodies, but decided not to. Let anyone else following, see what awaited them!
He backtracked swiftly to find the packs and took up the trail again.
Now he was angry. Taran and Maya were off enjoying each other’s company, whereas he’d just had to save their skins by killing those hunters, who could have easily killed them had the gods not smiled upon him.
He moved as fast as he dared, looking behind him frequently. He was determined to give the two of them a serious piece of his mind when he found them. This was not the time to mess around; it was the time to run for their lives.
As he crested a small ridge, there they were, and for a moment his rage was incandescent, yet suddenly it just fell away.
He’d never understood love, never felt the caress of a
woman’s hand that he hadn’t paid for, nor had he ever appreciated the beauty of the world around him. Yet as he looked down at the scene below him, everything changed.
They were oblivious to the world. Taran held Maya is his arms as the two of them kissed tenderly, shoulder deep in a crystal clear pool of water, surrounded by flowers and blooms while blossom fell from the green trees, and a willow’s fronds moved slowly in the shallows.
Rakan cleared his throat and saw them reluctantly pull apart; Maya was flushing in embarrassment, and Taran looked a little shy too, as they turned toward him.
‘Hey, Rakan,’ Maya greeted him, looking out from under her wet curly hair. ‘We were just about to head back. Is it time to hit the trail already?’
Hot words again came to Rakan’s lips as he walked toward them, but then he just sighed and smiled. ‘Please tell me you filled the skins before you two decided to cleanse. I’m not sure I want to taste Taran’s sweat in my drinking water!’
Both Taran and Maya laughed then, as they clambered out of the pool.
‘Oh no,’ said Maya seriously. ‘That terrible rotting smell is back!’
‘You’re right. I think it’s coming from the water.’ Taran added. ‘What do you think, Rakan, is it safe for us to drink?’
Rakan knelt by the pool, leaning forward to cup some water in his hands.
Taran bowed to Maya. ‘Be my guest.’
Maya put her hands between Rakan’s shoulder blades, and pushed, as she and Taran roared with laughter.
-----
Chapter XIII
Daleth stood in the stirrups of his saddle and looked back over his shoulder to see nigh on fifteen thousand men stretching to the horizon. Amongst them were wagons full of provisions as well as some of the wealth of this dying realm. Of the fifteen thousand, almost all were fighting men, and yet he was currently more interested in just one riding at his side.