by Jesse Teller
“That man is twice as big as any man ever should be,” Rachela said. She thought of the first time she had seen him, how her blood had run cold. She felt fear then, naked and unbridled. She was not sure even her mother could have stood up to him.
“He is twice as smart as any man I have ever met as well,” Ellen said. “But no man talks to him the way your father did. He looked Borlyn Flurryfist in the face and told him what he was going to do. He made demands, and he roared.”
“What kind of demands?”
“He demanded his friend go with him to pick up his little girl. He pointed straight in Borlyn’s face and commanded him to give him men,” Ellen said. “It is a moment your father is not proud of. He will have made his apologies by now, but he was fearless in the face of the king chief. And his roar was deafening.”
“Roar, huh?”
“Yes indeed, the fiercest I have ever heard. Do you know where the Beastscowls got their name?” Ellen asked.
“No. Will you tell me?” Rachela asked.
“I sure will. The Seven were out hunting in wild country. They were attacked by a great number of beasts, and all but your progenitor were wounded.”
“Did my progenitor kill all of the beasts?”
“Rachela, do you want me to tell you the story?”
“I do. I’m sorry.”
“The Beastscowl man was named Grethel, and he was the most terrifying man to ever walk the mountain. He carried them all one by one to a cave where he tended to their wounds and nursed them back to health. They were helpless without him. One day while he was standing guard, a pride of nine gray tigers came to the cave,” Ellen said. “Do you know what those are?”
“We get pairs of them, not prides,” Rachela said. “We stay away. They are too dangerous to face when in pairs. It takes too many arrows to bring them down, and I heard their skulls are too hard to puncture with a bow. Even one as powerful as my mother’s.” She smiled. “Eaten by nine gray tigers is a good death. This Grethel is a progenitor to be proud of.”
“You have not let me finish my story. Grethel did not die that day. Nor did any of the other Seven. They say Grethel stepped forward and roared in the faces of the nine tigers, and they ran away. That was the day they started calling him Beastscowl. Now, I don’t know, I never heard Grethel roar. But I heard Gerber, and I will tell you this. If Gerber’s was anything like Grethel’s, then I understand why those tigers fled.”
Rachela grinned. She felt warm and happy. “Papa is fierce?”
“He is.”
“Not this fierce.” Rachela bent forward and curled her fingers to talons. She screamed out the screech of the matron eagle, and let it fly out, loud and long. She felt the burn in the back of her throat, and knew she had done a good job. The cry echoed out for miles, bouncing off the rock walls out in the distance. “He is not that fierce.” A slight sadness rose up in her, and she shook her head. “No one is. When they take me into their land, I will be alone. No one will be as mighty as me. I will have no worthy allies. No one to put my back to and know it secure. It would almost be okay to go, if I knew there would be one person to defend that could defend me, too.”
“Well, you will never know for sure,” Ellen said. She turned and walked into the cave. “Unless you give him a chance.”
Rachela thought about it for hours. She could not sleep for thinking of it. She ran it through her mind the entire night, and when she woke, she shook Ellen awake, too.
“We gotta get going,” she said. “Get up. Don’t make me—” She shook her knife, but not really even at Ellen.
“Where are we going?”
“We are going to see. If I screech at him and he pulls away, I am going to run back home. Will you come with me? They won’t let me come back if I don’t liberate you.”
“Are you going to let him roar back?”
“I am. I’ll screech at him. If he does not quake with fear, I will go with him. I’ll give the son of Grethel one chance to prove himself to Grethel’s daughter. But I will tolerate no weakness.”
“As you shouldn’t.”
*******
When they opened the gates to the city of Tergor, Rachel held her excitement tight to her chest, letting no one see it. Her papa reached up to where she sat on his shoulder, and pet her leg. She liked that. They walked into the city, and everyone got out of the way. Men, stout and powerful looking, glanced at the face of her papa before looking away in fear. She squeezed her hand where she had a grip of his hair, and pulled.
When he swatted her leg, she giggled. They walked through the streets with the men she had come with, and everyone seemed to know them and respect them. One by one, the men parted ways. They all said goodbye, and she thanked them for coming to get her. She asked her papa if that would be alright. She was beginning to understand she would live among wives, but her papa would never make her become one.
Every one of the men bowed to her before they left. Every one of them told her if she needed anything from him to call for him anytime. They all said a few nice things, but she was excited for the next part. She knew just what she was going to do when she met her brothers, and felt nervous and breathless at the thought of it.
He called it the Beastscowl ghetto. She had never seen anything like it. People and animals ran everywhere. When people saw her papa was home, they rushed to his side. They kissed his hand and reached out to touch his spear. The children were lifted by their parents so they could see Gerber, and every one of them praised him for bringing their princess home to them. They reached up to touch her. They threw roses at her. She smiled at all of them. She had never seen anything like it.
Back home, everyone was so mad all the time. The women yelled at the males constantly. There were beatings every day. There was shouting and anger. Her people were of rage, and she was beginning now to see, they were defined by hate. That feeling drifted away from her as she watched these people staring up at her with tears in their eyes.
They walked all the way through the ghetto to the last house at the end of the streets. It closed off, blocking the way and making this the destination for all of them. The last hold. This building was far bigger than any she had seen before. It stood eight stories tall with great doors too large to be reasoned. The side of the building bore the image of a snarling tiger. She snarled back at it quietly and smiled.
Before the huge doors stood two men, armed and covered in steel plates. Beside them stood an older boy, maybe nine, with thick blond hair and a hammer on his hip. Rachel was hoisted from her papa’s shoulder and set before the boy.
He was cute enough, too strong of a jaw, too clear of eyes, and looked her right in the face. When she snarled at him, he looked away.
“Locke Fendis, this is my daughter. Her name is Rachel Beastscowl. Watch yourself around her. She is a proper Beastscowl born,” Gerber said.
Locke bowed to her and smiled.
It wasn’t a terrible smile.
“I am honored to meet you and hope you find our city fair,” Locke said.
She thought about it, trying to find the perfect way to express how she felt and what she wanted him to think when she was done with him. How to properly greet this boy. She smiled and stepped forward. She bared her teeth at him then screeched her war cry.
Locke pulled back as if from a blow. The city street behind her fell instantly silent. Everyone stared at her. She laughed, what she hoped was a cruel sounding laugh, and put her hand on her knife handle.
The boy stared at her before grinning and bowing again. “You are magnificent. If you need anything, please call for me. If you wish to see the city, I will show it to you. I hope to be your friend.”
He reached his hand out to her, and she stared at him. She looked at it, not knowing what to do with it, before she held her own out. He grabbed the entire arm and shook it. She had seen men do this with her papa, but never had a man done this to her.
She liked him.
“Locke, what news?” Gerber said.
“There have been crimes committed. Yenna needs your mind. He needs your wrath.” Rachel looked at Gerber and a hard quality came over her papa. “Yenna says you can have the rest of the afternoon with your family, but tonight after you sup, he needs your advice.”
“My advice?”
“He needs you to calm him down,” Locke said.
Rachel knew her papa was not the man for that job.
“It will be done,” Gerber said. “Let me introduce her and settle her in, and I will be with my king chief.”
“Yenna wishes you to bring your daughter with you. He is excited to meet her. He says the tales of her mother have always captivated him. That woman’s blood mixed with yours could only result in divinity.”
“I will come. Thank him for his patience,” Gerber said. He patted Rachel’s head and nodded to his guards. He walked past them and into the house. The bottom floor housed massive beasts with long legs and trunkish bodies. They boiled with muscle but seemed tame. They stood in stalls and snorted as Gerber walked in. When they looked upon her, they bucked and snorted wildly. They seemed to grow furious or frightened, and she scowled at them as she walked past. She saw a forge, too big to be a serious forge, in the back of the room. At it worked three men, one holding a great hunk of steel, two pounding on it. She decided if men needed this many blacksmiths just to make a weapon, then they were weak indeed.
They walked left to a staircase that went up, then walked up it until they reached a great door. Once inside, the smell of beasts and soot gave way to a new aroma. A musk of sorts, a smell that spoke of something fierce, something wild and untamed. It spoke of a primal thing drawing near, and a thrill ran up her spine as she wondered what it was.
They walked to another set of stairs and Rachel realized she had never been in a structure this big before. Rooms and hallways darted off in every direction, but Papa took none of these. When they reached a final flight of stairs, they came to a small room with a set of double doors. Gerber turned his back to it and smiled.
“I want you to accept that this is your home now.” He looked excited. “I had your brothers set a room up for you in the western corner of the house. They will show it to you when you are ready.”
On the other side of the door she heard a bray and then another. It morphed in the air to shatter into the barking of so many dogs. Papa was forced to raise his voice.
“Your brothers have heard you were coming. They are very excited to see you.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Let’s get in there before they tear the place to bits.”
He threw the door open and shoved his way in. Rachel stood outside the room staring at a sea of fur and fangs. She could not count how many dogs stood, ran, or jumped in this room.
“Back, hounds!” Gerber yelled. “Ya, ya, back up, you flea-bitten monsters,” Gerber said. He walked through the room as if he were treading through a war zone.
The dogs lifted their heads and turned to see her.
“Get in here before they get out, girl,” Papa said.
The hounds rushed her. They were all teeth and tongues. They licked her face and her arms. They nibbled on her fingers and her legs. They shoved her forward and back, and she fought to get past them but could find no ground.
“Get in here, girl. They will lose interest in you and run off.” Gerber turned to the room behind him and started talking.
Rachel could see no way of making it into the room. She saw nothing that could get her there or help her tame this wild pack. She bunched her legs up under her and leapt. She bounded over four dogs and into the room. The dogs howled, and she jumped again. She was in the door now, and Papa yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Hunet, my boy! Get the damn door before they rush out into the city! Last time twelve went out and sixteen came back in.”
A young boy walked the edge of the room, shifting around behind her. He shoved dogs out of the way until he got to the doors and shut them. A smaller boy walked into the room, splashed a bucket of meat in the corner. All the dogs rushed for it and Rachel looked around her.
Broken furniture and dirty crockery. Torn drapes and a stained rug. The whole of the room looked disheveled and wrecked. Rachel stared, amazed that men lived this way.
“You are Rachel,” the youngest boy said. He walked up to her and grinned. She snarled at him, and he laughed.
“Hunet, get over here and say hello to your sister,” Gerber said. “Boys, this is Rachel Beastscowl. She is to be respected and cared for. She is your sister and you will respect her or—”
They were close enough now, Hunet standing directly in front of her and the little one to his left. It was time.
She dropped to her knee and punched the little one in his man parts. He doubled over, and she turned to Hunet. She flipped in the air, kicking him in the crotch and the chin. She landed on her feet and hissed at them.
As the boys dropped to their knees, Gerber laughed.
“I am your sister but you will not think yourself better than me. This house is my house, and I am a Fury warrior. I will be obeyed.” She stood above them and smiled down at them. “Now that we understand each other, show me to my room.”
Hunet turned to his father with a look of surprise and dismay.
“Don’t look at him. You’re dealing with me,” she said. She reached out and slapped him. Just gave him a little slap to get his attention.
“Father,” the younger one groaned.
“You will fight one at a time. No teaming up on her. If you can’t take her down, then I guess you are going to obey,” Gerber said. Rachel liked that. “You can scratch and bite but no weapons.”
Hunet rolled back. He rolled like a boulder down a hill, then stood on the far side of the room. He grabbed a bowl of some sort and threw it at her.
The dish shattered against her head, and she dropped to her knee. Her vision wavered. She felt sick.
“Damn it, boy, I said no weapons!” Papa yelled.
Hunet grinned. It was a devious thing, born of recklessness and a crazed mind.
She stood and curled her fists.
“For disobeying me she gets her next hit free,” Gerber said. “There are rules to every war, boy. This is the rule to this one.”
Rachel looked around her and saw a mug filled with some liquid. She picked it up and threw it with all her might. It soared for Hunet’s head, but with a slight shift of his stance, it shattered against the wall behind him.
“Good throw,” Hunet said. “Too bad you missed.”
She growled as he laughed.
“Girl, if you break another piece of my crockery,” Gerber began, he sputtered before saying, “I said no weapons.”
She lost track of the little one. She turned in time to see a chair flash before her eyes. The impact threw her back. She hit the ground and Gerber laughed.
“Dammit, you three. I’m going to rip into your—” Gerber said with a chuckle. “Hunet, Brenden, when you three have this worked out, you show her to her room. I have been on the road for a long time and need a bath. Rachel, good luck.”
Gerber yelled. “Ha, ha, hounds come with daddy. Come and I will feed you all.” He walked out of the room with barking and yipping sounding off all around him.
“Brenden,” she said, pointing at the little one. He smiled, and she noticed three of his teeth were missing. This was not random tooth loss that came with childhood. These three teeth were all lined up next to one another. They had been knocked out. He grinned at her, and he was savage beyond anything she had ever seen before. “And you’re Hunet,” she said, pointing at her older brother.
He snapped his jaws in her face and fear rose up around her. Fear rioted in her head before coming out as a screech. She turned to face them both as she loosed her cry, and when she was done, she crossed her arms, certain she had won some great part of this coming battle.
Both of her brothers stood unflinching in the face of her wrath. Brenden barked out a laugh. He howled then loosed a ro
ar that chilled her blood. She crouched, keeping him in her sight, realizing she had lost track of Hunet.
She turned to see him climbing onto a chair on the far side of the room. He stared at her before releasing his roar. It was long and terrifying, and when he was done, he laughed. The laugh scared her more. It was a laugh reserved for a lunatic, a laugh that could only be released by the mad.
“Who’s first?” she snapped.
They both came at once. But when they came, they did not only fight her. All three of them vied to break the others. There were no teams. No one person on their own. As good as she gave it to Hunet, Hunet gave it to Brenden and her.
She had never fought anyone this fast. Never fought anyone this savage. The bite marks Brenden left on her face did not heal for two months. The finger she broke on Hunet’s left hand stayed twisted and gnarled all through the fight. It did not slow him down at all.
When the fighting was done, they all laid on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. If there was a winner, she could not pick one out.
“We will not obey you, Rachel,” Brenden said. “No one has mastery over us unless it is Yenna or father.”
“We are not yet tamed by any man or woman,” Hunet said. He cursed. “You have sharp knees.” He laughed. He held the side of his head where she connected with her knee, and he winced.
She looked at her knee, bruising and blackening as she watched, and clenched her bloody fist. Where had that blood come from?
She closed her eyes and sighed. She had never been this happy before. Never hurt this badly before, either. She felt something rough and wet on her face, and opened her eyes and froze. Staring down at her were the thick features of a red panther. Its cold blue eyes bore into hers, and she summoned up the image of a matron eagle in flight. It was a good image to die to.
“Ruckus, get off her,” Hunet said. “He is a bit of a welcoming beast. Likes to lick on everything that walks through that door.”
Rachel looked up at the beast as its chest rumbled in a purr. She tried to slide away, but it placed a huge heavy paw on her and stopped her. She fought back the whimper, but it came anyway.