by Lori Holmes
“Nothing but bones!” Naboth kicked at the animal remains that he had discovered; they clattered hollowly across the rocks. Eldrax turned his attention to the carcass. The remains of a bear had been exposed by the sweeping wind and he confirmed what Naboth had already discovered to his bitter disappointment; only bones and a few stringy scraps of sinew remained. The dark smear they had seen from the trail far above had been nothing more than old blood staining the rocks and the ground all around the body.
“You brought us all the way down here for bones, Naboth!” Tanag cried, shoving his clan brother in the chest an uncharacteristic temper. “Now we’ve got to climb all the way back up to that trail to find this accursed cave!”
Naboth recovered his footing and made to fly at Tanag. “I just want something to eat!”
Hanak stepped up to his brother’s side, his hand twitching towards his bone knife. “Watch your step, Naboth,” he threatened.
“ENOUGH!” Eldrax roared as he shoved between his squabbling men. He snatched a bone from the ground. “I’ll give you-” His building tirade cut short in his throat. Long, thin gouges marred the bone’s smooth surface. No wolf or scavenger made marks like that. These were the marks of man. Or-
“Spread out and search the area!” he barked.
Eldrax ran his fingers over the grooves marking the bone in his hand. It could mean nothing. The Eagle clan had been hunting in these hills after all but something told him they were not responsible for this kill. The knife cuts were deep, made by a being of great strength. A being stronger than the average Cro man, he guessed.
His heart began to beat faster as he loped over the ground. Here and there, footprints had been frozen into the soft earth between the stone. Broad footprints, squarer in shape than a Cro. His excitement mounted as he continued to track, the trail rising steadily as it led up the hill set into the centre of the gully.
The cave gaped into the mid-morning light. Eldrax’s breath caught. It was exactly as Rannac had described. Gripping his spear, Eldrax rushed forward and burst into the entranceway. The dimness pressed in on his eyes, blinding him for a few moments. He blinked rapidly, straining to see into every shadow.
The remains of a fire were piled in the centre of the cave. Tools, cracked bones and furs littered the hard ground around it. Eldrax took everything in at a glance but these betraying clues of habitation were not what held him and made him stagger. It was the smell. The scent of her lingered over everything. His mother had lived in this cave.
A movement caught his eye and suddenly she was there, standing in the shadows, staring out at him as she begged for his forgiveness and love. He cried out, staggering back before his vision adjusted and the illusion melted into nothing more than a large fur hanging from a jutting rock. It twitched in the breeze. He shook his head violently as he stepped into the cave.
The walls were carved with pictures. Eldrax followed them around, studying the story of his mother’s journey. He came to an abrupt halt before the carving of a mother tenderly cradling her newborn, holding him as though to protect him from the world.
“Ha!” Eldrax struck out at the mocking image, furiously scoring through the lying depiction again and again with his flint knife until nothing was left.
“Eldrax?” Tanag was standing in the cave entrance, spear held ready as his eyes searched for a threat. “I heard you shout, my chief.”
“This is the place we have been looking for, Tanag.” Eldrax threw his now blunted knife to the ground. “That fool Rannac sent us too high into the hills. The witch is gone. Summon the men.”
Tanag disappeared without another word and Eldrax squatted down before the skeleton of the fire, holding his palm over it. He could still detect the faintest trace of warmth. So close. She had been here as soon ago as dawn. He shifted his attention to the ground. Now that his eyes had fully adjusted to the dimness, he noticed spots of something dark leaving a trail along the stone and packed earth. He recognised the source of the stains immediately. Blood. Someone had left a spattered trail of blood.
There was only one streak. Whomever had left it had departed from the cave and not returned. He did not remember his mother carrying an injury when he had ambushed her in the storm and she had certainly not returned to leave such a trail. This had been left by none other than the witch herself.
The stench of the cave was becoming unbearable, the spirit of his mother watched him from every corner. Skin crawling, Eldrax hastily followed the blood trail outside. A few more strides and he found the very thing he had been longing to find. Tracks. Tanag had returned with the rest of the men and they gathered behind him, awaiting his next direction.
He pointed to the diminutive footprints dotting the snow ahead of him and their accompanying trail of red. “The hunt begins. She is mine.”
* * *
23
Capture
Rebaa had left Juran’s brother behind but she had not been able to keep up the quickened pace for long. The snow was still deep in many places and often she was forced to wade through drifts that were waist high. She could feel Ninmah’s faint warmth on her back like a supporting hand as Her last rays painted the snow with a reddish gold.
Rebaa prayed to the golden face to continue to guide her on her journey. She was nearing the very edges of Nen’s range now, it wouldn’t be long until she reached the copse. Before then she must be sure to take the correct fork in the trail, she remembered Nen’s warning of the higher cliff path. The copse lay along the lower trail. She shifted the bear skin sling on her aching shoulder. “You are getting heavy,” she muttered to her baby as he dozed within its confines.
Hunger began to gnaw in her belly. She promised herself that once she reached the copse, she would rest for a short while and try to cook some of the bear meat she carried. The densely packed trees would shield her from the sight of the hunting Cro.
Juran’s brother’s voice still rang in her head, warning her not to stop until she reached her home but she could not run forever on thin air. She hoped the false trail the warrior had sent his chief on would keep Eldrax at bay long enough to allow her to escape.
She should have known such a wish could never be fulfilled.
The shadows of the evening had barely begun to lengthen when Rebaa’s senses quivered once more. Something was coming, teasing the edges of her awareness but steadily gaining.
Eldrax had picked up her trail.
The strength went out of her limbs, leaving her numb. It was too soon, she did not have enough of a start. Juran was gone. Nen was gone. There was nobody else left to sacrifice themselves for her. She thought of all the bolt holes Nen had shown her on their travels; none would be sufficient enough to hide her.
Flight instinct drowned out any other thought and she bolted, running for her life. She had to try to stay ahead. It was the only hope. She reached the fork in the trail and raced down the lower path. Her burdens sucked at her, the bag of bear meat beat hard against her damaged leg. Without a second thought, she flung it from her shoulders and away into the snow. It had been slowing her down and it was no use to her if she was captured. Eased of the weight, she ran faster.
The copse wasn’t far ahead now. She could see the dark shadow of the wood ahead. Trees. The trees. They would make her safe. Gasping, Rebaa plunged on.
Her lungs were burning when the copse reached out to surround her at last. Embraced by the trees, the panic receded enough to allow her mind to function. She slowed to a halt, coming to rest at the centre of the grove.
She had been foolish to run. Running was not how she was going to survive. The Cro had her trail and they would follow it like wolves until they had her. This was the game that Cro played best. This copse was the best concealment she had but it was nothing if her trail lead them right to her. She glanced down at her damning footprints leading right up to where she stood.
Eldrax was smart. She had to be smarter. If she could obliterate her true trail and leave a false one along a different pat
h before doubling back…
It was a chance, a fleeting hope but there was very little time. The presences of the Cro were a dim flicker on the edges of her awareness but they were getting stronger all the time. She would need all the speed she could muster to run back along the path, hiding her footprints as she went and then leave a false trail for them to follow. If she were to have a chance at travelling that fast, it would mean…
Rebaa sucked in a sharp breath as she looked down at her son. It would mean she had to leave him behind, concealing him in the copse until she returned. She balked violently at the thought but she didn’t have time to think of a better way. If she stayed and did nothing, then they were lost. She had to do this to try to save them both.
She cast around quickly and spied a hollow at the base of a large tree. Dashing towards it, she lifted the bear sling from around her neck, falling to her knees at the tree’s roots. Numb to what she was doing, she tucked her baby inside. He fussed restlessly, feeling the physical separation as keenly as she did, letting out soft, muffled cries.
Rebaa covered her mouth with a shaking hand to stifle her own whimpers. “Shhh! Shhh!” She soothed, reaching out to him with a hand letting her energy flow through the contact. “I-I’ll be back,” she croaked. “I will not leave you.” Now she knew what Juran had gone through in their final moments together. She gritted her teeth. Unlike him, she would return. “Stay quiet until mama returns.”
He regarded her solemnly, his green eyes holding an awareness beyond that of an ordinary newborn. She knew he understood her.
“I love you. More than anything!”
She tore herself away, running back for the edge of the trees with only Nen’s spear for company as the tears blinded her. Every instinct she possessed pulled her back towards the tree where her baby lay alone but she could not obey. She dared not look back. If she saw him there, abandoned and alone, her will would surely crack.
Reaching the tree line, she hesitated, peering out onto the open trail beyond. It was empty. Pulling a branch from the nearest tree, she ran back up the path, hastily digging and swiping the snow behind her, displacing the glistening folds over her damning footprints. Her arms were aching by the time she made it back to the fork in the path. Now to lay the false trail. There was only one other route to take from here: the path under the cliff face.
An idea formed before she was even conscious of it. If they had believed she had travelled that way…
His mind is broken. He has no compassion, no mercy. Not even for his own people.
Juran’s brother’s words floated through her thoughts. Was Eldrax’s mind broken enough to take such a risk? A grim smile played out on Rebaa’s face. The man had killed his own mother, she was willing to bet he was capable of doing anything to get what he wanted. The plan hardened in her mind and she bared her teeth.
The energies of the approaching Cro were now an unbearable burn against her consciousness, getting ever closer. She ached to get back to the safety of the copse. Back to her baby. His absence against her heart was like a physical pain.
I’ll be back. I’m coming back! She promised both herself and her son.
Stealing her exhausted body, Rebaa pushed herself to her limit, dropping the branch for now, she flew up the higher fork in the path. Ahead and swiftly looming larger was the thin trail clinging precariously between the steep wall of rock above and the sharp plunge into the ravine below.
The pathway was worse than she remembered. The storm had eroded the already cracked rocks. At the centre of the path, the rock had detached completely from the hillside and a great gap had appeared in the path, the two halves bridged only by one long crumbling pinnacle, jutting up from the abyss like a giant stepping stone.
The snow along the trail had been swept into random patterns and Rebaa was careful to place every foot fall so it could be seen clearly in the drifts. She was equally conscious of the shifting rocks beneath, fully aware that one wrong step could plunge her to her death below.
Panting from the exertion, Rebaa reached the point where the path had crumbled and fallen away into the darkness below. If one was to move forward, it would mean a sickening leap over empty air onto the precarious pinnacle rising from the centre of the void. A second leap would be needed to reach the safety of the path beyond and away.
Rebaa eyed the pinnacle briefly. One would have to be a fool to make that leap. She only hoped that Eldrax would believe she had been desperate enough to risk it and, Ninmah willing, follow to his own demise. Here was where her false trail needed to end.
Time crawled over her skin as she turned and picked her way back down the trail, avoiding the snow this time and keeping her feet on the scattering of hard, bare rocks. If she left so much as a toe print, a Cro tracker would deduce the truth and all her efforts would have been for nothing.
Their ever nearing presences pulsed fear through her veins. She had to fight the urge to break into a reckless run, abandoning all caution in her need to beat them to the split in the path and disappear before they saw her. It seemed to take forever to make it back down the trail but, at last, the fork in the path appeared around the bend ahead of her
A little further, just a little further.
But, as Rebaa comforted herself with the thought, she was forced to come to a halt. She had run out of rocks. An expanse of snow lay between her and her destination. Her concealing branch lay far out of her reach.
The whispers of distant hunting howls carried to her on the breeze. Panic threatened to overwhelm her but she fought it back, thinking hard. Her fingers cracked against Nen’s spear as she gripped it for support.
The spear. Seized by a sudden inspiration, Rebaa took one quick step back and then threw herself forward into a leap. Holding the spear in both hands, she brought the butt down into the ground, using it to vault clean over the expanse of snow. Landing neatly beside her branch, she let out the breath she had been holding in one silent rush. It had worked!
She risked a glance in the direction she knew the Cro to be approaching from. The way was still empty. She had time to make it to the fork and away before they came into sight.
I’m coming! She thought at her waiting baby. Her need to return overwhelmed all else. Keeping low, Rebaa rushed for the fork in the trail and made to continue her flight down the lower path, obliterating her footprints with the branch as she went.
Elated by her success and consumed by the longing for her baby, she was blinded to the ambush that awaited. Two tall figures materialised out of the snow ahead of her, cutting off her escape.
Crying out, Rebaa almost fell in the effort it took to halt her momentum.
She stared up into their dark, grinning faces and knew they had been waiting for her. After all her efforts, she had been the one to be outsmarted. She backpedaled rapidly as they started up the trail towards her. They were unhurried, assured that she could not get away. Their predatory eyes glittered.
No, no! Rebaa whipped around and fled, zigzagging this way and that, searching for an escape route, for a way around them.
Before she knew it, she was back at the fork. She kept her senses upon the two Cro, waiting for any signal that they were about to pounce and bring the hunt to an end. She was unnerved by their lack of activity. They could have caught her at any time but they had not. They seemed content to watch her run like a scared gazelle.
And then the reason became clear. Coming down the trail from the other direction, the rest of the Cro pack had caught up. She watched their dark figures racing against the snow. A familiar red flame flickered at the centre. Eldrax was at their head.
She was caught between the oncoming party and the two beasts who had herded her into this trap. Her fist tightened around her friend’s spear as her chest constricted to the point that she could hardly breathe.
There was nowhere for her to go. Nowhere except-
Triumphant howls began to sound as the main hunting party saw her cornered before them and Rebaa’s feet were movin
g before she could think, plunging on up the only trail left open to her. Part of her mind was aware that she was exchanging one trap for another but flight instinct had her in its grasp as she ran heedlessly up the path leading to the cliff face. All that mattered was being able to remain free and run for just a little bit longer.
One small whisper of self-preservation broke through the overwhelming need to keep running and Rebaa paused on the threshold of the cliff path. One thoughtless step and the ground would give way and plunge her to her death.
“Finally!” A deep voice called out from behind her. “Juran’s prize!”
Rebaa turned to face Nen’s son for the first time. He was standing fifty strides away from her, his men blocking the only safe escape route back down the fork in the trail. Familiar, black eyes glinted at her across the space separating them in a sick parody of Nen’s own. The sight ripped though her. Instead of seeing warmth and compassion in the dark depths, Rebaa saw only malice, cruelty and not a little bit of madness. How Nen must have suffered in her last moments when she had seen what had become of her beloved son. Agonised tears leaked down Rebaa’s cheeks as she thought of her own son abandoned and defenceless in the copse. She had failed him. She had failed Nen.
“Come to me, girl!”
Rebaa flinched away, raising Nen’s spear daringly as she took a step backwards onto the crumbling rock. Fury thrilled through her as she gazed into the burning black eyes of her saviour’s murderer. Grinning at her defiance, Eldrax took a step nearer, unperturbed by the threat of Nen’s spear. Her hands trembled. Rebaa glanced over at the abyss yawning below and took a bold step towards it. “Come any closer and I’ll jump,” she threatened. “I swear on all the gods.”
