Warrior: The War Chronicles I

by Sean Golden

  Warrior

  The War Chronicles I

  Sean Golden

  Dedicated to my longsuffering wife (Martha)

  and children (Sarah and Ian)

  Acknowledgements:

  Huey Golden – for all your support, help and editing

  Christopher Finuf – for support, encouragement and advice

  Jeff Sullins – for all your support and advice on all things publishing

  Sara Watson – for suffering through the execrable first draft

  J.R.R Tolkien – for making fantasy a serious literary endeavor

  Lighthouse Writers Workshop – for guidance and tools

  Superstars Writing Seminars – for making all of this better

  Legal

  Warrior: The War Chronicles I © 2015 Sean Golden

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

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

  The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

  Prologue

  Brooding under the pale radiance of a full moon, the vast Dwon forest spreads from the Haguille Mountains in the west to the Dragon Sea in the east, and from the desolate Red Desert in the north to the rolling Hanorian plains in the south. Gleaming like a silver thread in the darkness, the life-giving waters of the great Fedon River cleave the forest from the mountains to the sea. A darker, gray line marks the Great Hanorian Wall at the southern edge of the forest. Tiny sparks of light in the forest mirror the stars above, each marking a Dwon village celebrating the harvest.

  Nestled amongst the giant redwoods in the center of the forest, just south of the Fedon River, the village of Luh-Yi celebrates. A blazing bonfire illuminates dozens of nearly identical thatch-roofed huts and a few larger wooden buildings. Firelight throws red highlights on the steep roofs while contorted shadows sway on wooden walls. Food, flowers and jugs of water, juice and spirit water crowd a massive table. A mouth-watering aroma of roasting meat permeates the central green. Booming, throbbing drums fill the air with bone-resonating rhythms. Hypnotic chanting weaves among the drumbeats overlaid with the distinctive melodic ululations of the Dwon reed-flutes. Fire-lit faces shine brightly in the night as sweat-slick bodies surge in sensuous ancient rhythms, silhouetted against the crackling flames of the great bonfire.

  Moving with a wild and feral abandon that evokes passion even from the oldest of the elders, the dancers perform ancient fertility rituals, as their ancestors have done for time beyond reckoning. Skin-tight beaded, buckskin dresses cling to the lithe bodies of Luh-Yi’s young women. Amongst the dancing women are elaborate totem costumes worn by young men. Stylized forms of eagles, wolves, ravens, bears and salmon gyrate as they circle the central beacon of the bonfire.

  Far to the east, on the Dragon Sea shore, a similar village is also afire, but this fire ravages the huts and buildings and the villagers do not dance, but lie randomly in pools of blood and gore. In the Dragon Sea large ships are at anchor. Farther out to sea more gleaming sails dot the dark sea as they heave up and down with the pounding waves.

  Contents

  Acknowledgements:

  Legal

  Prologue

  The Great Bear

  Luh-Yi

  Elders’ Judgment

  Endsummer Moon

  A Day in the Life

  White Beast

  Sampt Speaks

  Rivals

  Broken Blade

  Fire

  Pawns

  Ko’Teraka

  The Gap

  Fire River

  Firestones

  Prophecy

  Return

  Oath takers

  Forest Camp

  Dwon Against Dwon

  Hunters

  Warriors

  Magic Stick

  Dreams

  Evening Meal

  Fire In The Water

  Retreat

  Misjudgment

  Discovery

  Winter Warriors

  Spirit Dreamer

  Choices

  Sleeping Dragon

  Ambush

  Life and Death

  Defeat

  Red Robe

  Rage

  The Great Bear

  The Seven created the stars and worlds. Earth woke after creation saying to the Seven “How can I serve you?” The Seven replied “Raise up your mountains, and fill your seas so that life can flourish. Nurture life, but make of yourself not a garden, but a forge, for your purpose is to create the weapon to defeat even death.”

  – The Prophecies

  Wait… whispered the familiar feeling in Lirak’s mind as he stood at the southern edge of the oval shaped clearing. Sweat beaded the swarthy skin of his forehead above his steely gray eyes. Silently drawing back the arrow in his bow, he watched the great bear’s head and shoulders emerge cautiously from the shadows of the massive oaks and towering redwoods to his west. His resolve momentarily faltered on seeing the immensity of the beast. In his sixteen summers living in the great forest, he had never seen or heard of anything like the man-eating monster sniffing toward the bloody deer carcass. Even the vividness of his dreams had not prepared him for such sheer gut-wrenching size and menace.

  Wait… As taut and tense as his bow, Lirak absorbed the strain on his shoulder and forearm, welcoming the sensation as a distraction from his knee-weakening fear. The bear moved fully into the clearing, nosing the slain deer. Lirak estimated it would be more than twice his height if fully erect. Each leg alone was as massive as Lirak’s entire body. Sending a short, silent prayer to Kathoias, he hoped that his careful planning had been enough. The bear’s massive head dipped down to the bloody carcass exposing glistening teeth as long as Lirak’s fingers.

  Now!

  Lirak slipped easily into a familiar sensation of time slowing down as he released his first arrow. As it flew he plucked a second from the three held in the fingers of his bow-wielding left hand. Drawing this arrow back, he stepped into the clearing, a hundred steps from the bear and twenty steps from the uprooted bushes to the east. Just as he settled the second arrow against his cheek, the first arrow’s obsidian point pierced deep into the beast’s right side. Bellowing in spittle-flying fury, the bear spun quickly to its right. Lirak loosed his second arrow, noting that it sparkled for an instant as it pierced a rare forest sunbeam. Instantly, Lirak nocked his third.

  The bear’s howling pain and fury crashed against his ears. Riding the crest of a sensory wave, Lirak could feel every muscle tingling and nerve singing. His swiftly pounding heart felt to him like a slow, rhythmic thumping. He could feel even the subtle vibration of the arrow shaft against the bow as he drew the third arrow back. The bear’s eyes locked on Lirak just as the second arrow plunged into its snout. Rocked back by the pain for only a moment, the beast lunged forward and charged just as Lirak’s third arrow flew.

  Defying the growing ball of panic in his gut, Lirak nocked his last arrow. His mind still racing ahead of his body, he drew back the
bowstring while taking a lungful of air. For an instant that felt like an eternity he studied the charging bear, and released the final arrow just as his third arrow stabbed into the bear’s chest.

  Dropping the still vibrating bow, Lirak spun on the ball of his right foot and sprinted toward the row of uprooted bushes. His long black hair flew out into a billowing tail. There was a choking cough, and he heard the bear’s charge falter for a moment. Lirak knew the final arrow had plunged through the raging maw into the bear’s throat. Slim, powerful legs drove him away from the monster and across the small clearing. Closer and closer from behind came the deadly roaring. Hearing each paw slam into the hard ground behind him, he feared the bear was about to crush his back with one massive blow. Faster he prayed, wishing his body could match the racing speed of his mind.

  Knifing between the bushes at the far edge of the small clearing, Lirak leapt with all his strength, stretching his body out and reaching forward as the ground fell away below him. A sudden sharp impact on his left calf sent a blast of pain through his leg and a shock through his body. Desperately reaching out with his right hand; he managed to grab the dangling rope which bit into his palm and fingers. With a painful jerk to his shoulder, his body whipped around and he frantically brought his left hand onto the rope as well. Now facing the bear as he swung outward, both hands burned as the rope slid through his hands for a brief moment before stopping against a knot. Arcing upwards, his body’s weight on the rope abruptly bent the branch above, jolting free a sudden cloud of leaves and dust which sparkled in the sunlight.

  Blinded by an all-consuming rage, the bear plowed through the line of uprooted bushes, scattering them right and left. And down. Twisting halfway around at the last instant, long lethal claws desperately dug into the dense clay at the crest of the cliff. Eight deep parallel furrows in the hard earth ended in a cloud of dust at the rim of the ravine. The heavy bear’s roars of rage and frustration suddenly ended in a piercing shriek as it crashed into the rough boulders thirty feet below.

  Swinging slowly under the massive oak limb, Lirak watched the bear die. Only now did he feel the burning pain in his hands and the wetness of blood on his leg. Ignoring the pains as much as he could, he climbed to the tree branch above, untied and coiled his rope and climbed down the ancient oak to retrieve his bow, quiver and pack. Moving past the uprooted bushes he had placed to hide the cliff edge, he descended to the dead bear, noting how his third arrow had been driven deep into the bear’s chest as it hit the rocks. With a sense of relief mingled with satisfaction, Lirak drew his sharp stone knife from its buckskin sheath and began the laborious effort of skinning the great beast.

  Luh-Yi

  Vurl, lord of fire, leads the Seven. Faydah spins her webs of fate. Kathoias nurtures and protects the woodlands. Rysdun guards the secrets of magic. Wyla tends the harvest and heals the sick. Dalpene roams the deep and sends the storms which share his water with the world. The last is now unNamed.

  – Dwon oral tradition

  Reluctant to enter the village clearing, Lirak took comfort in the cool quiet under the redwoods guarding the south side of the village green. Massive oak trees reached high above, their leaves and branches creating an interwoven canopy over and around lesser trees. Birds and small animals flew, jumped and scampered from branch to branch, twittering and chattering with the eternal voice of the forest.

  Lirak swatted idly at the vexing flies swarming the bound, bloody bear hide. Sipping from his water skin; he sat on a fallen log beside the well-trod trail and soaked in the sights, smells, sounds and feel of the forest. There was gravity to his demeanor which belied his sixteen summers. An ironic smile fleetingly disturbed his lips as he considered that killing the great bear was likely to be the easiest part of his day.

  Sighing, he reflected on the whispers in the village which blamed him for the bear’s sudden and deadly appearance. Shaking his head slightly, he considered that the very dreams which frightened the villagers had shown him how to kill the bear. Some small part of his mind realized that some would only find more to fear from his killing of the beast. Regardless, the bear would kill no more Dwon children. And despite himself, Lirak was growing resigned to the pointing fingers and whispers.

  Impassioned voices from the village green disturbed the calm forest.

  “We will kill it this time!” Jerok’s voice brought a grimace to Lirak’s face as he heard the familiar fierce urgency of his impulsive older brother.

  “Just you and Gawn alone, when a larger party has already failed?” asked Chutan, an elder of Luh-Yi whose rasping voice was faint with age.

  “The others make too much noise and interfere. We’ve killed bears before!” Jerok said.

  “Not like this one,” Chutan warned. “This is a great brown bear from the east, not one of our black bears.”

  “A bear is a bear,” Jerok said. The arguing voices were approaching Lirak and would soon reach the edge of the village green and the mouth of the forest trail.

  Sighing, Lirak stood, hoisted the gore-spattered pelt on his shoulder, and steeled himself to trudge the last few steps up the path and into Luh-Yi. In a few moments he reached the end of the forest path and stood on the cool grass of the village clearing.

  Jerok loomed over the frail and thin Chutan. He did not look like a brother to Lirak with his stoutly muscled frame, auburn hair, brown eyes and pale skin. His broad face was set in an angry grimace as he faced Chutan. Gawn casually stepped between the two, as if by accident, his broad, boyish face grinning widely as one huge hand slapped Jerok on the shoulder, his massive body cutting through the staring tension between Jerok and Chutan. Gawn was the largest man in the village, muscular and fit, his imposing size was offset by an ever-present grin and a wild shock of blond hair above bright blue eyes.

  “Less talking, more hunting!” Gawn said. But even as Jerok reluctantly turned away from Chutan to enter the forest, Lirak emerged from the foliage at the path’s edge.

  “Lirak,” Jerok said, “What are you doing in the forest? I told you to stay in the village until Gawn and I returned.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” Lirak dumped the bear pelt on the ground in front of Chutan.

  The group fell silent. Jerok’s broad face and brooding brown eyes scowled as he reached out with one foot and prodded the pelt, sending a swarm of flies buzzing. Gawn’s open mouthed gape of astonishment changed quickly to a grin as he winked at Lirak.

  “What is this, Lirak?” Jerok accused.

  “The bear is dead,” Lirak said.

  Jerok appraised Lirak. “You killed the great bear?”

  “Yes,” Lirak said. “I need to go clean up.” He began walking north toward the Fedon River.

  Jerok seized Lirak’s elbow, his large, powerful hand squeezing hard.

  “What are you doing?” Lirak asked, trying to yank his elbow free.

  “What game are you playing Lirak?” Jerok demanded. “What’s the meaning of this?” He pointed at the bound, rolled up pelt.

  Suddenly cold, Lirak’s steel gray challenged Jerok’s angry brown. “Let go of my arm,” he said.

  Chutan and Gawn both stepped forward, Gawn placing his hand on Jerok’s shoulder. “Jerok, let him go.” Gawn spoke quietly, but his voice carried authority.

  Jerok roughly yanked Lirak’s arm forward, then released it, nearly causing Lirak to stumble. “Go to the river then. We will deal with this later.”

  Walking north, Lirak ignored the stares of Jerok’s friends. When he was several strides away but still within hearing, he slowed and gingerly rubbed his smarting elbow. Reaching the shade of an outlying hut, he turned and looked back, curious to see what would happen next.

  Jerok looked down as Gawn and Chutan untied and unrolled the pelt. Gawn let out a low whistle. Toldek and a few of Jerok’s other friends knelt down to examine the bloody pelt.

  “That’s the great bear. Look!” Gawn exclaimed, reaching as high as he could with the shoulders of the pelt while the back legs only ha
lfway left the ground.

  “How could Lirak kill this bear?” asked Toldek, looking back toward the forest, his long, thin neck twisting around above his lanky torso as he nervously tapped his knee with one hand.

  “Didn’t you say he had a dream last night about the bear?” Gawn asked.

  Jerok’s face hardened. “Lirak is always having dreams, they mean nothing.” Gawn frowned at Jerok as he rolled up the still bloody pelt. Toldek and the others laughed before a glare from Jerok cut them off.

  “What was the dream?” Chutan asked, stepping in front of Jerok.

  Defiant for a brief moment, Jerok locked eyes with Chutan, but even Jerok found it hard to refuse an elder and he finally looked away. “He said the dream showed him how to kill the bear,” he finally spat out.

  “And the bear is dead.” Chutan stroked his chin with thumb and forefinger, his sparse gray hair waving in the gentle breeze. “Lirak should tell us when he has dreams like this.” He frowned slightly, his eyes seeming to focus on something far away. “Why did Lirak tell you this?” Chutan asked Jerok.

  Jerok looked down. “He wanted me to come with him.”

  “I see.” Chutan’s eyes narrowed.

  “I told him to go back to the hut and wait in the village until Gawn and I returned.”

  “But he went into the forest, on his own, before sunrise, and killed the bear,” Gawn stated in a matter-of-fact tone. He smiled and looked at Jerok, his blue eyes laughing. “That boy is something else.”

  Jerok glared at Gawn. Toldek glanced between the two, his knobby adam’s apple bobbing nervously, seemingly unsure whether to laugh or not.

  “There is more to this story,” Chutan said, as much to himself as anyone. “Bring the pelt to Radul’s hut!” he said. “It will make a fine robe.” As Gawn knelt down, Chutan leaned close to Jerok and spoke so no others could hear. Jerok’s eyes narrowed and he nodded, then Jerok and Gawn followed Chutan. Lirak sighed and continued on toward the river.