Primeval Origins : Paths of Anguish - Award Winning, New Epic Fantasy / Science Fiction (The Primeval Origins Saga Book 1)

by Brett Vonsik

  “What happened here?” Kardul demanded of Firik.

  Firik stood in place, surveying the scene for long moments, as if he were considering his words. He walked casually toward Rogaan, speaking simply. “Kantus and his companions disobeyed me. They were to keep concealed until my return from a quick scout, though it looks they felt it better to do things in their manner.” Firik looked at the fern runner lying between Rogaan and a now-standing, blood-splattered Kantus. “Kantus has a good kill there, in spite of his arrogance and poor judgment.”

  “Kantus?” Rogaan protested, shocked and indignant. “Kantus could not save himself. The kill is mine.”

  “Doesn’t appear so,” Firik disagreed. Firik looked at Kardul, who only shrugged. “Doesn’t look that way at all.”

  “Kantus did no kill da fern runner,” Pax joined Rogaan in protest before a satisfied smirk came to his face. “But, he almost got pecked ta da darkness.”

  “Not by my eyes,” Firik replied sardonically.

  Pax took up a place next to Rogaan, dark-faced and with anger building to boil, again. He snatched his spear back from Rogaan, raised it in the air, and sucked in a deep breath, readying himself to hurl words at Firik. Fearful of what his friend might say and do, complicating things for him and harming his opportunities with the Kiuri’Ner, Rogaan squeezed Pax’s arm enough to give warning. Pax shot him a look with eyes ready to pop out of his head.

  “No point arguing,” Rogaan grumbled low, as he fought to maintain command over his own anger. He wanted the satisfaction of seeing Kantus revealed for what he was: a coward, a bully, a manipulator, and a spoiled youngling. But that was not likely to happen here…not now. Firik seemed to clearly favor Kantus.

  “No,” Firik coolly stated. “There won’t be arguments. Only obedience, or you’ll make your own way back to Brigum.” Firik waved for the Band to emerge from their hiding place and join him. They came limping and grimacing, and surprisingly silent. Firik looked them and Kantus over, then spoke. “Looks to be no one got hurt badly. Tend your wounds. Make sure you’re cleaned to keep the blood scent from carrying, and you don’t get the burning.” Firik scanned the area, then the distant cliffs barely visible through a section of twenty-stride tall cedars.

  “Kardul, we’re too distant from the cliffs to strip these animals and not be meals ourselves,” Firik stated matter-of-factly. “Take your...hunters...and go on. I’ll meet up with you after the younglings here are cleaned to my approval.” Firik leveled an intense gaze on Kantus, staring him down for a long moment. Kantus at first stared back defiantly; then his posture and face softened, then he seemed to cower a bit as the unspoken tension between them grew thick. When Firik looked to be satisfied, he continued. “Kantus, collect eggs...that is what you were after when you disobeyed me, wasn’t it?”

  Kantus glanced around to see if anyone was watching him. When he looked at Pax, his face grew dark -- Rogaan suspected from embarrassment. Pax returned a large, toothy grin and was obviously enjoying the moment. Kantus’ face grew darker, if that were possible, when he realized Rogaan shared his friend’s grin.

  “What are you two fools grinning at?” Firik demanded, with his harsh gaze fixed on Pax and Rogaan. “Kardul, get these two away from here before they find what regret means.”

  Kardul motioned with his head toward the cliffs to the west then waited with his stolid stare set on Rogaan until the two moved. He watched Rogaan and Pax intently until they passed by him. Quizzically, Kardul looked at Rogaan then spoke. “Youngling, where’s your bow?”

  Rogaan felt his cheeks warm and prickles dance up his back. Embarrassed that he had broken the bow, Rogaan searched for a response that would not require further explanation. Search as he did, nothing came to him. After a few moments, Rogaan decided the truth was best. “It broke.”

  “Broke?” Kardul sounded as if did not believe Rogaan.

  “Broke,” Rogaan said again, pointing to where he threw it to the ground. “It is over there.”

  “Bring it,” Kardul demanded. “I must see for myself.”

  Rogaan stopped -- hesitated, really, wondering why Kardul “must” see the bow. It was broken, and that was all. Kardul maintained his uncompromising stare until Rogaan flinched and recovered the broken tool. Once it was in his hands, Kardul inspected it with scrutinizing eyes, running his fingers over the tattered bow across the break point. The Kiuri’Ner’s expression changed every-so-slightly as he inspected the weapon. Kardul looked at Rogaan while he stripped the bow sting from the broken wood.

  “Broke it on the draw?” Kardul asked matter-of-factly.

  “Yes,” Rogaan replied. “Second draw.”

  Kardul grunted then threw the ruined wood to the ground. He looked at Pax, and then at Akaal. His eyes fixed on Akaal longest. The two baraan exchanged hard looks, with neither of them blinking. “Get moving, all of you with me. We have a longwalker to hunt before the day grows late.”

  Chapter 6

  The Hunted

  Kardul set the pace harder than before, leaving Rogaan struggling to keep up. The four traveled single file north through the valley for more than a march before Kardul led them west then south to an elevated outcrop of gray and black rock some forty strides long and nine high, overlooking another large break in the forest. Deep, reverberating honks and bellows filled the air, along with the pungent odor of dung heavy on a hot breeze. Rogaan wrinkled his nose at the air, and it looked as if Pax could not keep from doing the same. Kardul climbed the rocks and set himself crouched near the top, where he could survey a large open plain with little chance of being seen. Rogaan, Pax, and Akaal joined Kardul at the crest of the rock formation near where they all took in a magnificent scene of longwalkers, in the hundreds, spread across the open ground in between dense stands of trees. Biters and bloodsuckers swarmed about them, trying to get at their blood. Fortunately, most were unable to get past the purple flower’s invisible protection they had put on earlier.

  Longwalker nests abounded, spaced apart to allow adults passage between them. Pairs of mature longwalkers tended most nests, as yearlings weaved between both adults and nests, frolicking or looking for anything green to eat. Some of the larger young, almost mature by the looks of the size and coloring, were busy in contests of domination that seemed more about pushing and making noise than anything else. Kardul had approached the herd from the north with the warm, light wind in his face, and the strong smell of dung carried on it. The animals seemed oblivious to their presence, or just did not consider them a concern, making it difficult for Rogaan to discern what senses the animals used to bring them to alarm of dangers. Here, close to the western cliffs of the valley, the number of young seemed greatest, diminishing in numbers the farther east he looked. All stayed close to their mothers, though the large females showed little tolerance for them and shooed them away when they got too close to incubating eggs. Swirling flocks of fast-moving featherwings and soaring leatherwings high above, swooped down from time to time at things unseen on the nesting grounds. A ravine to their right ran the edge of the plain north and south near the red, rocky cliffs. A little more than twenty strides beyond the ravine, a rugged path, maybe three strides wide, twisted its way up from the valley floor to the height of the thirty strides, where it led off to their camp. Halfway up the path were two carts slowly pulled down by niisku, cutters and carriers following the last cart while armed hunters led. They were to keep their place on the path, waiting for a sign before descending to the valley below, where they were to make quick work of anything the hunters killed.

  “Why run about the valley instead of taking that path there?” Rogaan quizzically asked Kardul, while pointing to the cliffs. Kardul offered no answer, keeping his attention on the longwalkers. Rogaan thought on his question in Kardul’s silence, coming to the conclusion that they could simply have come to this place without need of traveling about the valley all morning. Frustration and anger swelled within Rogaan at having been played with by Kardul. Rogaan’s ton
e turned demanding. “Why?”

  Kardul returned Rogaan a satisfied smile. “I wished to see if you three are ready for what we’re about to do. A simple walk down the cliff path wouldn’t have told me what I needed, youngling. Besides, look over there...and there...and there. We needed to stay upwind and unseen.”

  Rogaan’s eyes followed where Kardul pointed. He looked at each place, seeing nothing at first then barely making out…leapers, packs of them -- and large animals, if he judged right. Most rested almost motionless in the deep shadows of tall pines on the other side of the herd, almost four hundred strides away. They were well hidden, disappearing so well into the background that he had to peer intensely to make out their forms. Even then only the occasional movements of the leapers betrayed their positions.

  “I no see what ya pointin’ ta,” Pax complained. “What be it, Rogaan?”

  “Trouble, Pax,” Rogaan answered solemnly. “Leaper trouble.”

  “Not so, with some good fortune,” Kardul corrected with another knowing smile and a matter-of-fact tone, confident in his knowledge and experience, Rogaan assumed. “Leapers hate heat. It tires them. Longwalkers tolerate the heat by keeping slow, unless in danger. Even when pushed, big males and most females won’t travel far. Those tending nests will almost never leave them, defending their eggs till their lights are darkened.”

  “Sooo?” Pax questioned.

  “Think, youngling,” Kardul demanded. When Pax didn’t answer, Kardul continued his teaching, though with a slightly exasperated look. “Our path has kept us upwind and from leaper and longwalker notice, allowing us to pick when and from where we strike. If the leapers move at all in the heat, it’ll likely not be far or for long. Taking down and carving a longwalker will be easier, not having to worry about them, much.”

  “What’s next?” Akaal asked impatiently.

  Kardul made an effort not to look at Akaal as he flexed his jaw muscles a few times. “We wait for a longwalker to leave the nest area -- hopefully a young one with only a few seasons on him, and that he wanders near the ravine. We attack, driving the animal into the ravine, where it’ll fall to darkness.”

  “What about leapers?” Rogaan asked.

  “If done soon,” Kardul said, looking into the cloud-peppered blue sky. “The heat will keep them from us and the ravine. We’ll be where their eyes and noses won’t notice us. But we must kill quick before it can bellow, or the three leaper packs might all come on us.”

  “Are we waiting for Firik and his younglings?” Akaal spoke with a disdainful tone, and seemed a bit anxious.

  “We attack when an animal makes itself vulnerable,” Kardul replied flatly, his eyes fixed on the herd, watching for…opportunities.

  They watched and they waited and watched and waited and watched and waited and watched. Kardul had long since readied his bow and slid his quiver forward on his belt to allow easy access its arrows. He told all of them to ready themselves and to remain so.

  Rogaan tormented over using his shunir’ra. Taking it against his father’s wishes bothered him much more than he expected, and more so the closer it came to his actually needing to use it. At first, he put off deciding to use it and did not think of it for a time, but after the other bow broke, needing it was almost certain, and that made the afternoon painful for Rogaan, his decision swinging back and forth between his father’s wishes and his need to gain the favor of the Kiuri’Ner. Kardul never gave him a second look. Rogaan feared that the Kiuri’Ner assumed he was not going to be much help in taking a longwalker. That ate at Rogaan -- his hopes, his dreams. Slowly, tormented, Rogaan decided. He hesitantly pulled his shunir’ra from its hide case and assembled it. Kardul and Akaal stared while he worked, Kardul with a curious look and Akaal wide-eyed. Pax wore a grin wider than Rogaan ever remembered. Rogaan fit together the metal-blue nisi’barzil limb mounts and handle, the grip wrapped in the best animal hide he could afford. The recurved limbs snugly attached to the mounts where Rogaan locked them in place with a set of clamps, top and bottom…a design of his father. He strung the metal-blue string to the bottom notch, then wrapped his leg around the lower limb and grunted to bend the bow enough to set the string in the upper notch. Sweat dripped from his forehead at that last effort. Try as he might to come up with a way to make the stringing easier, this was the best he could figure, though his father, watching much of his bow crafting, always looked to have a better answer, but never shared it.

  Once it was assembled, Rogaan inspected his shunir’ra, his masterpiece of tellen tradition, signifying his transition from young to the wisdom and expertise of an adult able to contribute to the Tellen Clan …though only after his Zagdu-i-Kuzu ceremony. In the centerpiece above the grip, five gems each the size of Rogaan’s thumbnail were mounted. Four sparkled in the spotty sunlight where he sat: red, blue, yellow, and green. The center gem, black, was slightly larger than the rest, and it seemed to absorb the light, appearing as dark as dark could be even when the sun’s rays touched it directly. Rogaan could not help himself and wore a prideful smile while holding his shunir’ra for the Kiuri’Ner to see. Even his pangs of guilt washing over him in waves started to wane. Rogaan sneaked a look at Kardul to glimpse his reaction. The Kiuri’Ner wore an approving look and was unconsciously nodding his head just enough for Rogaan to notice. Relief filled Rogaan. With his smile threatening to become permanent on his face, Rogaan tested his bow with a single draw that demanded every bit of his strength and left his muscles trembling at the strain.

  “Impressive,” Kardul stated with a bit of admiration in his tone. “Nisi’barzil. I’ve heard stories of Mithraam working such metal.”

  “Mithraam no make it,” Pax broke in, his voice full of pride for his friend. “It be Rogaan that worked da blue steel. It be his shunir’ra.”

  “Him?” Akaal spat, with a raised chin and a disbelieving wave of his hand.

  Pax pressed. “He did. He did. I saw him make it.”

  Kardul gave Rogaan another approving nod then returned his attention to the herd, some animals now walking by not more than sixty strides to their south. With no discerning expression or tone of voice, Kardul spoke with his eyes following a longwalker about half the size of the full-grown adults. “Can you shoot that thing straight?”

  Rogaan opened his mouth to assure the Kiuri’Ner his aim was always straight, but held his tongue from concern that Kardul might think him a braggart. Instead, he answered with a simple nod. They all followed Kardul’s lead, falling silent and watching the herd. The larger animals remained close to their nests, sometimes grooming the mounds of leaves and sticks with their snouts or foreclaws, or adding more plant stuff they returned with. A fight erupted when a longwalker not of the parenting pair wandered too closely to a nest. Such intruders were driven away most of the time with a mock charge or warning bellow, but some retreated bruised and bloodied when a mock charge was not enough. Others moved about slowly in the building heat of the afternoon, weaving their way between nests, seeking things Rogaan did not understand.

  As they watched the herd, Rogaan assembled his arrows from the eight fletched wooden shafts and two-bladed arrowheads made of blue steel that he kept in his case and blue steel based quiver. He took great care in handling the arrowheads, as they were sharper than anything he knew, and he had experienced cutting himself when making them. The wound bled and bled, then took many days to heal well enough for him to use hand again. The dangerous arrow assembly left Rogaan’s shirt clinging to him with sweat pouring from him in the hot and muggy air. Pax looked worse, fidgeting and pulling at his tunic and breeches frequently, and constantly rearranging his tan hat, now dark with sweat along much of the brim, his face paint long since washed from his sweating face. Akaal appeared comfortable despite his shirt dark with sweat where it stuck out from under his hide armor. Kardul seemed impervious to the heat, as he kept an intense watch of the longwalkers and leapers, studying them.

  Several times, Rogaan thought Kardul might order them to attack whe
n longwalkers, maybe four strides long, broke from the herd, but they veered away from the ravine before the Kiuri’Ner was ready to declare them their prey. Unconsciously, Rogaan fingered the heavy wood shafts now in his waist quiver where the blades of the blue steel arrowheads where kept safe from cutting fingers and everything else. When he caught himself and realized what he was doing, Rogaan sheepishly pulled his hand away from the blades. The arrows issued him for the Hunt was stowed in his shunir’ra case and out of the way, as Rogaan considered them inferior by far to his arrows. He fingered his quiver as much out of habit as nervousness, but wanting to put forward his best showing for the Kiuri’Ner, Rogaan wanted to look all the part of a seasoned sharur. The afternoon wore on and on and on and he fought against feeling discouraged and falling into dazed lulls caused as much from the heat as boredom. After a while, biters ignored his purple flower protection and painfully kept him alert, until Rogaan applied more of the flowery protection.

  “Ready yourselves.” Kardul’s command surprised Rogaan, making him jump. Rogaan hoped his “jump” had not been noticed by Kardul or Akaal. Unimportant at this time, Rogaan chided himself. Finally, a chance at a proper hunt caused his heart to start racing and his ears feeling as if they would explode from the pounding noise of his blood. Rogaan’s palms quickly became slick with sweat, making holding his bow difficult and frustrating him. Following Kardul’s gaze, Rogaan spotted a longwalker, their prey he guessed, maybe six strides in length, nearing the ravine. Rogaan glimpsed Kardul’s body tensing, as if the man were his bow string on the draw. Rogaan mimicked the Kiuri’Ner by setting himself ready to spring forward when commanded. “Ready. Ready your weapons. Ready. NOW!”

  Kardul exploded from his rocky perch with bow and nocked arrow in hand, and spear somehow slung to his back. The big man’s speed stunned Rogaan, mesmerizing him for a moment before he realized he was the only one left on the rocks; Pax and Akaal were already ahead of him, sprinting. A wave of embarrassment passed through him as quickly as it struck. Shaking off the unwanted feeling, he jumped from the rocks and ran after the three, losing ground to them with every stride, in spite of his best sprinting. Rogaan pushed himself even harder, trying just to keep up with the others as they covered nearly two hundred strides to their quarry. Kardul slid to a halt some twenty strides from the animal and immediately fired two arrows, both striking the massive beast’s chest just behind its left shoulder. The arrows penetrated to the fletchings.