Khon'Tor's Wrath

by Leigh Roberts

  Khon’Tor’s Wrath

  Wrak-Ayya: The Age of Shadows Book One

  Leigh Roberts

  Dragon Wings Press

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Please Read

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2019 Leigh Roberts Author

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Copyright owner.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, creatures, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, creatures, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Editing by Joy Sephton http://www.justemagine.biz

  Cover design by Cherie Fox http://www.cheriefox.com

  Sexual activities or events in this book are intended for adults.

  ISBN: 978-1-951528-04-1 (ebook)

  ISBN: 978-1-951528-18-8 (paperback)

  Dedication

  For everyone who ever looked up at the night sky and wondered,

  What If?

  Chapter 1

  Only a fool is never afraid, and Khon’Tor, Leader of the largest tribe in the region, was no fool.

  Khon’Tor shuddered as a chill crawled up his spine. And the longer Kuruk’Kahn the Overseer spoke, the higher Khon’Tor’s anxiety rose.

  The other tribal Leaders around the High Council circle shifted in their positions on the cold boulders. If a Leader as great as Khon’Tor was worried, they would be wise to be worried also.

  Adia stood at her favorite rocky high point and looked out across the valley and the verdant hills below. Color was beginning to dust the lower branches of the bushes and deciduous trees. The grasses had started dying back, revealing brown tips. Goldenseal bloomed everywhere though more than enough had recently been harvested, the seeds set aside for planting in the spring. Everything signaled that fall was coming—a busy time of gathering and preparation for the cold, barren season which would not be far behind.

  A warm early morning breeze rustled her long dark hair, bringing with it the fragrance of the wildflowers still in bloom. The scent of deer and elk mingled with others rising from the river below. Adia shielded her eyes with her palm, looking up at several hawks circling overhead, their sharp cries splitting the silence. Etera was alive with beauty, and for the moment, the unrest that had been pricking the back of her mind was silenced. She stood a while yet, enjoying the view before returning to the People. Holding Second Rank, just below the People’s Leader, Khon’Tor, her position as Healer was one of power, visibility, and service. And with Khon’Tor still away at a High Council meeting, she knew her presence comforted their community.

  But dark clouds of change were hovering, and Adia had been filled with dread for some time. She feared that the topic of the High Council meeting and the source of her uneasiness were connected. The sense of foreboding, which she had not been able to shake for very long, seeped back in, ruining what had been a peaceful moment.

  There had been many Healers through the history of the People, but none quite like Adia. Adia’s huge heart had won her a special connection with the People, and both genders respected her compassion and wisdom. The Healers of the other tribes revered her and sought out her counsel; even the Medicine Woman of their neighbors, the Brothers.

  Except for one dark period ages before—the Wrak-Wavara—the People enjoyed a mutually beneficial long-term relationship with the Brothers and had lived in harmony for generations. Knowledge of the time of Wrak-Wavara was handed down only to the Leaders within each community and was never discussed openly, even at High Council meetings.

  As far back as the Age of the Ancients, the People had lived at peace with the Great Spirit. The People only took what they needed from the land, the animals, and the elements, and they gave back by replenishing where they could. Ancient, reverent, they were governed by the First and Second Laws.

  Adia picked her way down the rocky path back to Kthama, the home of her people, established long ago by the Ancients in a mammoth labyrinth of underground caves. Though not all the communities of the People sheltered underground, hers did, and each subsequent generation over the ages made modifications and improvements to the expansive, winding underground caverns to suit their particular needs.

  The opening widened into a large cave called the Great Entrance. Stalactites overhead dripped moisture from the sixty-foot ceiling. Past the Great Entrance was the Great Chamber; equally vast, it was large enough to hold all the members of her community, and more, at one time. During cold weather, her people gathered there to share in group activities for which there was no time during the other busy seasons.

  Adia passed through the Great Chamber and into the tunnel that led to the Healer’s Quarters, where she lived, worked, recharged, and found solitude. She often shared her quarters with her Helper, Nadiwani. Nadiwani was a kindred soul with whom Adia shared a bond beyond their formal relationship as Healer and Healer’s Helper.

  Adia opened her carrying satchel and started filling it with the Goldenseal roots that she and Nadiwani had stacked in a corner of the storage area. Though not part of their diet, Goldenseal was highly valued by both the People’s and the Brothers’ Healers for pain management, treating topical infections, and easing female problems.

  Because the Goldenseal harvest had been abundant that year, Adia had asked the gatherers to collect extra for Ithua, the Brothers’ Medicine Woman. Adia and Ithua often traded gifts. Adia would already have taken the roots to her counterpart had their Leader, Khon’Tor, not been called away to the High Council meeting.

  “If you would just let me deliver the Goldenseal—” said Nadiwani.

  Adia continued to pack the roots into her woven carrying bag. “I know you worry, but I will be back before twilight. Stay another night in my sleeping quarters, if you wish. That way, you will know when I return safely.”

  “It’s not like you to leave with Khon’Tor away.”

  Adia stopped what she was doing. Nadiwani was right, but something was pressing her to go. It was more than the Healer’s seventh sense. It felt different—heavier—coming from a source; a different center that she did not recognize.

  “I’m sure if anything happens Commander Acaraho will take care of it.”

  “Adia,” Nadiwani’s face was pinched with concern. Then she sighed and nodded, “I feel it too.”

  Adia turned to face her friend. “Then you know I have to go.”

  Chapter 2

  Adia had meant to be off earlier but for some reason slept past her usual awakening time. She completed her morning routine, then gathered up the satchel and padded through the Great Chamber to the entrance. Nadiwani was still sleeping on her mat in the Healer’s Quarters, as Adia had taken care not to wake the Helper with her movements.

  After she stepped outside, Adia set down the bag of roots and looked up. She knew by the angle of the Sun that she should have been well on her way if she were to be back by twilight. Before moving on, she scanned the valley below one more time. Ready, she hoisted the satchel over her shou
lder and picked her way down the steep incline, responding to the urgency that compelled her to go.

  The opening to Kthama was situated about halfway up the elevation of the protective, surrounding hillsides. It was overshadowed by a towering outcrop of rock, well-hidden from those who did not know it was there. The rocky ledges and boulders made travel along even the established paths tricky. Many of them wound dangerously close to drop-offs which opened to Great River’s churning waters hundreds of feet below.

  Adia finally made it down to the valley floor and stood before the river she had to cross. Heavy rainfall and runoff from days earlier had made the water exceptionally high—a churning mass of mud and foam. She felt that to ensure no unnecessary risks, she must take a different route—one she had not often traveled. Nadiwani would definitely not be pleased if she knew I am taking the un-established route.

  As the way unwound before her, taking her farther and farther from Kthama, Adia wondered if she would be able to return by twilight after all. The terrain changed from the larger protective deciduous trees and firs of the forested hillside to lower underbrush and eventually gave way to grassy stretches she could pass over more easily. As she traveled, various woodland creatures scurried across her path. Not the lightest of walkers, her approach rousted many from their hiding places. She knew they were there before she saw them, as she knew each of their sounds and scents like the back of her hand. Though she had not often come this way before, the route was familiar and yet unfamiliar to her. She was as at home in the nature of the forest as she was in the home cave.

  As she came out of the forest and neared the meadow’s edge, a feeling of darkness filled her. This was her seventh sense, the gift of the Great Mother; this came from a source she recognized. It was sometimes given to her as a picture, sometimes as a feeling, sometimes as a provision of facts. Like the other Healers before her, she was strongly connected to the Great Mother. Though all the females of the People had this seventh sense to some extent, it was far more advanced in the Healers.

  Adia paused as darkness surged through her, almost knocking her off balance.

  She swallowed hard. It was practically an auditory message, “Stop. Look. There is something important here for you. Do not miss it in your haste.”

  Adia stepped out to cross the meadow and no longer had to concentrate on her footing. As she looked up, an unnatural assembly of wood and planks caught her eye. It was an odd arrangement of both round and square—nothing the Brothers or her people would have constructed.

  She immediately knew that the Outsiders had built it, but she did not realize they had ventured this far into the Brothers’ territory. Stopping where she stood and stooping down, she scanned the area for any signs of activity. As she knelt, the wind shifted, and a stench of blood filled her nostrils. Not good. Not good at all.

  She turned her head toward what she thought sounded like horses pawing and whinnying. The hair on the back of her neck pricked up.

  Even if she had wanted to, she would not have been able to leave, despite her clear feelings of dread. Even if she had not been a Healer, and even if she had not been directed by the laws to care for the wounded, sick, and helpless, she was still a female and would not withhold help. Both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness were rooted in her compassionate heart.

  Adia crept closer. As she approached the structure, she noticed tracks of the carrier animals that both the Brothers and the White Men used. But these are not of the Brothers. Only the White Men put hard plates on their horse’s hooves, she thought.

  From the traces, she could tell they had come in at full speed, and there had been at least two of them riding together. A set of tracks going back in the same direction are mixed in with the first. Whoever they were, they returned the way they came—and quickly.

  ‘White Man’ was their term for themselves. The People and the Brothers referred to them as the Outsiders, though they also had other names which loosely translated into White Wasters or White Takers. From what they knew of them, the White Man was a soulless creature who took what he wanted with little regard for anything but his own desires. He slaughtered the woodland creatures, killing more than he needed and taking only their hides, leaving the rest to rot. He also had little respect for the land of the others who lived there.

  Adia continued her approach. As she got closer, she pinched her nose to try to block out the unbearable stench of blood. She hoped the wind would shift in the other direction, but soon realized it would not have made any difference.

  As she crept up to the structure, two horses bucked, pulling hard against the restraints that tethered them to it. She knew her presence alarmed them, but she could not leave them trapped. It took her a moment, but after fumbling a bit with the connections she finally freed them, and they quickly galloped off in opposite directions.

  Walking around the back of the structure, where the offensive smell was even stronger, she spied the prior occupants.

  Brutality was not in the People’s hearts. If something had to die, they killed it quickly and swiftly. They never inflicted suffering. And so the resultant scene sickened Adia to her depths. Clearly, this had not been a fair fight—this was an ambush; a massacre.

  A White female lay sprawled on the ground approximately ten feet from the structure. Her body was crumpled in an unnatural position, and her arms lay outstretched, limp and pale. Bright red pools of blood were everywhere. A large, wide, red gash peeled her throat open. Her coverings were in disarray. It was clear there had been a struggle, and that she had been violated. Adia had not seen any Whites before, but she guessed the female was of offspring-bearing age. The bloody wounds were still glistening; this slaughter had only very recently taken place. Adia checked for signs of life in the female but already knew she would find none.

  Another body was lying further away, presumably the female’s mate. He had been butchered equally violently.

  The scalps had been cut from their heads, and Adia wondered at the contradiction, because it was certainly the White Men’s horses which had been ridden in, yet from the little she knew, this was not something the Whites practiced. Even though they are the only tribe close enough to this place, none of the Brothers would do something this barbaric.

  Adia took a moment to collect herself. She had never seen such abominable acts in her life.

  There was nothing there for her to do. They had already returned to the Great Spirit. But before she left, she said a prayer for each of them.

  All the People shared the same belief in an overseeing guiding spirit—that there was another life waiting for them after this one. She wondered if an afterlife was waiting for the White Men who did this, though by what she had seen today, they did not deserve one.

  Just as she was about to leave, a sound turned her blood cold. It was not a sound of nature, not like the hawks crying overhead or the horses which had been lashed to the structure—it was a sound something, someone had made.

  Turning back to where the sound originated, her heart stopped in her chest. This was more than she had bargained for, and her blood ran cold.

  The strange structure was covered by some type of woven material which was stretched over it by the use of curved hoops—much as the People would bend willow branches to frame their baskets.

  Adia gingerly pulled the cover aside so she could see inside. Her eyes were drawn to the smallest of movements. There, under a blanket, something was wiggling around. She pulled back the wrappings and uncovered a tiny offspring who looked up at her with bright, sky blue eyes and giggled.

  Adia froze, though her mind was reeling and her pulse was racing. Somehow, in their acts of abomination, they had missed the offspring. Surely it had not been intentional. By what miracle it had remained undiscovered, Adia could not imagine.

  This is an offspring, but not of the People, not of the Brothers—this is an Outsider. Intruders in our land: soulless, selfish marauders who unleash unspeakable cruelty even on their own kind. A
nd here lies one of these monsters—helpless, abandoned, but a beast seed waiting to grow into another as uncaring and cold and ruthless as the rest. Surely it deserves to die as well as any of them!

  These cold thoughts passed through Adia’s head, and for a moment she wanted to harden her heart with them, so she could walk away and let it perish on its own. It surely would, with no one to care for it. It was clearly not able to survive without a caretaker. Perhaps it would be kinder of me to kill the offspring quickly, rather than to abandon it here to a long and miserable end? That would be in line with our ways—we never let anything suffer when its end is inevitable.

  She was frozen by the conflict that stormed inside her. The First Laws resounded in her head; only harm if first harmed, protect and heal the helpless or infirm, offspring are the future and are sacred. Did the First Laws also extend to these creatures? Was she honor-bound to save this offspring? What about her vow as a Healer? What about the Second Law which forbade contact with the Outsiders?

  Adia glanced down at the small offspring who was making quiet, happy noises. It was frail and tiny and pale. Its only redeeming feature was its eyes, the color of the summer sky. It smiled, then reached up its little hands as if to touch her. Tears stung her eyes. “You’re not a monster. At least not yet,” she said. Perhaps you might never be. We do not know if it is their destiny for all of them to become so. There has to be more to the Whites than what we have heard. The stories have all been about the males. Surely the females cannot be like them also, cruel and soulless?