by Lori Holmes
“What’s wrong?” Rebaa asked, frightened by Nen’s violent reaction and the coldness of her expression.
“Men.” Nen replied tersely. “Not animal.” She crept out of their shelter. Her hand was firm on her spear though Rebaa could not miss the tremble in her muscles.
“Nen!” Rebaa whispered, alarmed. “Don’t go out.”
“Just look. No see me. Make sure leave. You stay.” She gave the last command with a level stare.
Rebaa opened her mouth to protest then paused in confusion. Beneath her friend’s fear and anger, Rebaa thought she could detect a faint sense of… longing, of a desperate hope. Before she could be certain, however, Nen had disappeared into the falling snow.
Rebaa hissed in frustration. She waited in the dimness, tense and alert. She should do as Nen asked and stay in the cave. She remembered keenly what had happened the last time she had come near a Cro hunting party. But as the moments crawled by, her imagination began to run away with her, conjuring the worst. The strangers might get around Nen and catch her here. That thought alone had her instantly on her feet. She snatched up the flint knife Nen had thrown to her, clutching it awkwardly. The silence stretched.
Why was Nen putting them both at risk like this? It was pure idiocy.
In the end, Rebaa could bear it no longer. Nen had told her to stay but she would not wait around to be trapped. She had made that mistake one too many times to her detriment. Cautiously, she crept to the cave entrance and looked around. All she could see was white land, grey sky and the falling snow in between.
She turned her attention to the ground. Nen’s tracks were leading off towards the bear kill. Rebaa cast her higher awareness outward, feeling the energies of the land. A large herd of oxen was picking its way through the rocks somewhere further up the slope, stragglers on their way down to winter grazing on the Plains. Their huge individual energies burned hot in Rebaa’s mind as they rooted through the snow. Further down, Nen was not far away. Rebaa sighed in relief. Beyond her, Rebaa could now sense the strangers. There were five or six of them, she guessed. Mouth dry, she stole out after Nen, determined to bring her back to the cave. She was terrified that her friend may be seen and killed… or worse.
She knew the path well by now and it did not take her long to catch up. She found Nen crouching stealthily behind an outcropping of rocks. The snow had fallen on her reddish furs, blending her into the landscape. Rebaa crouched beside her. Nen glanced at her once in irritation then turned back to stare down the slope. Her black eyes raked over the scene with a strange kind of hunger and Rebaa felt again that inexplicable taste of longing amidst the anger. Baffled, she followed her friend’s gaze.
Approaching the bear kill from down the slope, was the group of Cro. They were still too far away for her to pick out details but she instantly recognised their tall forms, long legs and lean bodies made for running. Their minds possessed the fierce intelligence she had come to know; quick, agile, adaptable… merciless. Rebaa’s heart thudded uncomfortably at the sight of them. There were four. She had thought she had detected more but perhaps her fear had muddled her senses. Then they drew close enough for Rebaa to make out their totem and she felt the blood drain from her face. It was the totem of a rampaging bear.
It was them. Her beloved Juran’s bitterest rivals. Worse than wolves, worse than bears. She shrank back against the rocks; the terror pulsing through her veins pounded in her ears.
The Cro had paused to pick over the stripped carcass of the bear. Travel worn and weary, they had obviously been hoping for an easy meal. One of the brute’s threw his spear in temper when he found that there was nothing left worth scavenging. It shivered into the nearest tree.
A shout went up and the hunter twisted around to stare in the opposite direction. Two more men appeared out of the snow. Rebaa’s initial instinct had not been wrong as to their numbers. The first newcomer was comparatively short compared to his hulking companion. With his left hand, he gestured sharply at the hunter who had lost his temper. Two fingers were missing. The second new arrival was as tall as any man Rebaa had ever seen and much more powerfully built. Tangled black hair wreathed his face, billowing in the wind. His eyes were cold, blue and pitiless. She recognised him instantly. This was the man who had separated her from her home and mercilessly hunted her until Juran’s clan had intervened. This was the man who had forever changed her peaceful life from what it would have been and set her upon this cursed path of fear and death.
Murzuk.
Rebaa’s nails bit into her palms. The savage leader of the Hunting Bear was no more than thirty paces from where she cowered. He would know her on sight and Juran was no longer here to keep her from falling into his clutches.
As paralysing tremors began to roll through her body, Rebaa heard Nen draw a short, sharp breath as she too laid eyes on the Hunting Bear leader. The cold anger at this invasion of her territory now flamed into outright hatred. To Rebaa’s horror, she started to rise from concealment, staring down at Murzuk with murder in her eyes. Her grip was now white on her spear as a low growl began to build in her throat.
“Nen! What are you doing? Get down!”
She didn’t think Nen even heard her but pulling with all her might, Rebaa managed to keep her in place.
The short, half-handed man continued to gesture at the hunter who had lost his temper. The brute obviously did not like being scolded and struck out at the smaller man in challenge. But what the half-hand lacked in height, he made up for in skill. In two swift moves, he had his adversary on the ground, his spear pressed to his throat in warning. There was something familiar about the way he moved that made Rebaa’s breath catch in her throat.
Murzuk’s booming laugh carried on the wind. He laid a hand on the shorter man’s arm and pulled him back. He motioned to the fallen hunter, ordering him to rise.
Murzuk gestured again and the men began to study the area. Rebaa knew what they were looking for. The bear had been stripped of its skin and meat. It would be obvious to them that the work had not been carried out by tooth and claw. As she watched, they examined the ground, assessing the strength of the other people who must have made the kill.
“Nen, we have to go,” Rebaa whispered on an urgent breath. “They’ll wonder who took all that meat. They can see our tracks. Only two tracks. They outnumber us.”
Nen snarled, gripping her spear as if she would very much like to plant it between Murzuk’s shoulder blades. Her white skin was paler than usual.
“Nen!” Rebaa urged. “Please! We need to hide our footprints!” She began to creep away, pulling Nen behind her. She remembered what Nen had done when the last hunting party of Cro had passed through and grabbed a loose branch from the base of one of the bare trees. She started sweeping the snow behind them to blot out their foot prints. She hoped it would be enough to throw off these apex hunters.
She was not careful enough. Focused as she was on smothering their tracks, Rebaa had not paid attention to the ground beneath her feet as she edged backwards. A loose rock dislodged beneath her foot and with a soft cry, she tumbled onto her backside. Before she could stop it, the rock skittered away, bouncing loudly down the slope, echoing all around the surrounding foothills.
Nen and Rebaa froze.
There was a moment of absolute silence before the hunting cries split the air.
“That way! They’re up there!” The shouts were followed by the tread of muffled feet running in their direction. Rebaa shared one terrified glance with Nen before they threw caution to the wind and ran for their lives.
It was a futile effort. As with the bear before, Rebaa could feel their quarry relentlessly gaining on them. The Cro were made for running long distances. The best hunters. Nen was built for tireless strength. Rebaa for climbing. She was also pregnant and her damaged leg slowed her even further. This was not a race they could win.
Howls of triumph sounded behind as the Hunting Bear warriors caught sight of them fleeing ahead. Rebaa gasped, hobblin
g now, and tried to run faster. She was almost spent when Nen grabbed her and yanked her back into the shelter of their cave.
Doubling over, Rebaa fought to catch her breath. She clutched at a pain in her side. It was hopeless. This cave was no protection. It was a trap with no way out. Nen disappeared into the depths of her home but Rebaa stood in the entranceway and waited as the baying of their pursuers grew steadily louder. There was little point hiding. She would face her fate as Juran would have wanted.
A clatter of stone told Rebaa that Nen was gathering rocks. Her friend was deathly pale but her eyes were fierce. “They not take me,” she swore over and over as she worked. Rebaa latched on to her determination, letting it give her strength. They would not go down without a fight. She grabbed a rock of her own and stood firmly, waiting.
Nevertheless, Rebaa’s heart quailed as the dark figures materialised out of the snow. They drew to a halt and paced restlessly at a distance of about fifty paces. They stared up the slope at the lone Ninkuraaja woman waiting for them in the cave mouth.
They were cautious. Rebaa’s apparent confidence unnerved them. They had no way to tell for certain that she was alone. The Hunting Bear raiding party was not strong in number and Murzuk was not stupid. He would not take the risk of starting a fight he could not win. It was the reason he had never challenged Juran for her possession.
But it would not take his men long to figure out the truth. When that happened, they would move to either capture or kill. Rebaa locked her teeth together to stop them chattering.
Murzuk pushed his way to the front of his men. He locked eyes with Rebaa across the distance. His face registered shock, then the slow, dreaded smile of recognition curled across his face. The expression turned Rebaa’s innards to ice. She gripped her stone until the rough surface bit into her skin.
“At last, Juran’s prize!” His voice rasped over the snow. “You were right after all, boy,” he said to a trembling adolescent flanked by two fully grown raiders. “If you continue to behave, you will have a place of honour in my clan.”
The Hunting Bear chief returned his attention to Rebaa, baring all of his teeth as he grinned up the slope. “I thought you lost when I found the Black Wolf clan slaughtered beside the mountains. We did not find your remains but I never dreamed a witch could survive without protection. You are full of surprises, girl. I found his corpse, though. Or what was left of it.” Murzuk brandished his spear before him. What looked like fingers dangled from black cords below the tip as trophies.
The ground pitched beneath Rebaa’s feet and she had to catch herself on the stone wall of the cave before her knees could buckle. She turned her head against the grisly sight, she could not let herself imagine. Those were not Juran’s fingers. They were not. She could not close out the hated voice, however.
The cool blue eyes travelled over her appreciatively until they came to rest on her belly and widened in shock.
“No…” Murzuk breathed. “So it is possible.” The Cro chief’s lips peeled back even further from his teeth in a predatory smile. “You are mine now, witch, and once you are rid of that spawn, you will provide me with my own! There is no one to keep you from me now. I will have what no other clan can possess!”
Rage and horror blazed inside Rebaa at the same instant she heard a terrible hissing sound from beside her.
“I am not yours, Murzuk,” she warned with as much courage as she could muster. “And I never will be!”
Murzuk only laughed and began to advance up the hill. It was then that Nen twisted out from behind the wall of the cave and planted herself defiantly in front of Rebaa.
The Hunting Bear leader stopped dead in his tracks, the mocking smile faltering into an expression of utmost shock. “You?” His eyes darted and then he turned angrily to the half-handed man standing beside him. “You-!”
Nen did not give him a chance to speak further. With a fierce cry, she hurled her heavy rock. The half-handed warrior grabbed his chief and yanked him out of the way and the stone flew through the space where Murzuk’s head had been. Had it made contact, it would have killed him outright.
The Cro leader’s face was pale under his dark skin as he returned his attention to the woman who had come close to crushing his skull. He blinked and then the grin fixed itself back into position, his eyes glittering with an unpleasant promise. “Such spirit. Maybe I’m glad you’re not dead after all. You, like her, will be mine again.” Raising his spear in the air, he roared his challenge and charged, bringing the rest of his men with him.
Shrieking her defiance, Nen hurled rock after rock at the approaching Cro. Some of her missiles found their targets. Two of the men crumpled to the ground, bones shattered by the force of the impacts. The others did not slow their charge, driven as they were by a raging passion and blood lust. Rebaa hurled a few of her own stones but they fell pathetically short and rolled harmlessly past their enemies. Still they came on.
It was no use.
Nen seemed to come to this realisation at the same time Rebaa did. Spitting a low oath, she grabbed Rebaa’s hand. “Run! Run!”
The next thing Rebaa knew, she was being dragged along in Nen’s wake. It was a last desperate bid for escape. Rebaa’s breath rasped loud in her ears but it was not enough to drown out the pounding of footsteps in the snow behind her.
A rough hand clamped around her arm and pulled her backwards, ripping her from Nen’s unprepared grip. Rebaa screamed in fright as the Cro man quickly subdued her, bringing an arm around her body to hold her securely against him. She could feel his hot, excited breath next to her ear.
“I’ve never had a witch before,” he panted as he slid his fingers along her neck and dipped them down inside her furs. “Perhaps Murzuk will share.”
A roar of fury was the Cro warrior’s only warning. Nen’s fist came out of nowhere and smashed into the head above Rebaa’s. The Cro’s grip slackened and Rebaa twisted away in time to see him fall back into the snow, blood streaming from his broken nose, his eyes unfocused.
He had barely hit the ground when another Cro joined the fight, this time attacking Nen head on. Faster than Rebaa thought possible for such a bulky frame, Nen twisted away from the charge. She grabbed the extending spear as it scythed through the space she had just occupied. Holding tight to the haft, Nen continued her twisting motion, shouldering the Cro in a circle until he was yanked from his feet and thrown into the air. He came down hard upon the snow covered rocks and rolled away back down the gully.
Hollering in maddened triumph, Nen snapped the Cro’s spear in two and spat in the direction of her fallen opponent.
Dazed with fear, Rebaa did not sense it when Murzuk himself leaped into the fray and her cry of warning came too late. He barreled into Nen with the force of a charging ox. Unprepared, Nen was knocked to the ground; striking her forehead hard against a hidden rock.
“Nooo!” Rebaa cried. “Nen!”
Nen blinked rapidly, struggling to regain her senses as Murzuk descended upon her. She got her large hands up just in time to grab at his thick wrists. Murzuk was powerfully built for a Cro, but Nen’s Thal strength was a match for his as she held him at bay by a hand’s breadth. Striking out with her legs, she tried to knock Murzuk’s feet out from under him but the Cro chief was too cunning a fighter and he was careful to keep his knees just out of reach. He began to twist his wrists from Nen’s grip-
Rebaa grabbed a rock from the ground and started forward. She could not feel her body and she moved as though in a dream. All that consumed her vision was the back of Murzuk’s unprotected head. Carried forward on the intent of smashing it into pulp, Rebaa swung her arm back.
“No you don’t!” Another pair of Cro arms seized her from behind and a hand caught her wrist. It squeezed until her bones creaked and with a cry of pain, Rebaa was forced to drop the rock. Twisting madly, she attempted to kick and bite her opponent but her struggle against him was woefully inadequate.
Nen was about to lose her fight. Managing to
free one wrist from her desperate grip, Murzuk landed a solid blow across the point where the rock had already stuck Nen’s skull. Horrified, Rebaa could only watch as Nen’s grip on Murzuk’s remaining wrist slackened, releasing the monster. All the remaining Cro were beginning to converge on their leader’s position.
Murzuk’s triumphant laugh boomed out. Standing over Nen as she tried to rise, he ripped his clothing apart, exposing the whole of his powerful body and large manhood in a show of primal dominance and threat.
Rebaa knew what was going to happen next and her struggles became more frenzied. The arm that restrained her was crushing her ribs. She could feel her heart labouring against the constricted cage.
She could also feel… his heart. It pounded against her senses in a thumping rhythm. Rebaa gasped as her mind cleared for one shining instant. She was Ninkuraaja! Now she needed to fight like one.
Struggling to get enough air into her lungs, Rebaa fought to master her fear and focus her mind, concentrating on the pulses of life racing against her own. Closing her eyes against the scenes unfolding before her, she focused with all her might on the Cro’s body.
Stopping the rabbit’s heart had been one thing, manipulating the heart of a creature body whose body lacked all connection to the Great Spirit, was another. Feeling like her head would explode, Rebaa threw all of her power against the pulsing organ, closing the passageways. The Cro gasped as the organ stuttered but it resisted her effort and struggled on.
No! Sagging from the effort, Rebaa dragged all of her energy forth, all she could reach from the surrounding land but still it was not enough. The Cro’s body resisted all her attempts to sabotage its functions. Dark spots were beginning to dance before Rebaa’s eyes. I can’t do this alone!
