Seers of Verde: The Legend Fulfilled: Book One (16 page)

7

The Nuven climbing party had made excellent progress as they followed the gap in Mount Barrasca that Darya had discovered. Even when they stopped to mark their trail by carving signs on trees or building markers out of small rocks, they proceeded quickly, driven by an excitement about what lay ahead of them.

On the morning of the seventh day, Juban Caleria poked at the leftovers of the previous night’s meal, a combination of rabbits and birds they had hunted and prepared for third meal. “I’m getting tired of eating rodents,” he complained. “When can we go hunting for grazers that will yield some real meat?”

Raaf Vonn scowled at his circle brother, but said nothing. He, too, was hungry for a more substantial meal. “Let us break camp and keep moving until second meal. If we find nothing of interest before then, we can split into hunting groups and bring back something more to our liking.”

Juban and the others nodded their approval and broke camp to continue their journey. The young Nuvens had been traveling for about two hours when the tree line stopped unexpectedly. They stared in wonder at the vast valley that stretched out as far as they could see.

“Have we found the other valley?” Ganick Nels whispered, not daring to say it aloud for fear the scene would melt away. Before anyone could answer, strange bellowing from far away caught their attention. Ganick scampered up the largest nearby tree to find the source of the strange noise. The others stared up at him impatiently, waiting for his report.

“It’s a herd of grazers. Hundreds of them. Maybe more,” he shouted. Ganick climbed down, shaking his head at the wondrous sight. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The grazers are just over the next ridge. They are large and all colors — red, white, brown, black, even spotted.”

Raaf and the others exchanged excited smiles. Such a large herd would mean they would be enjoying a fine meal. It did not take long for the Nuvens to reach the herd. With instincts honed from two centuries of subsistence survival, they approached the strange animals downwind so the herd would not be alerted to their presence.

Darya hid herself along the ridge. The young woman would not take part in the hunt, but she had already pulled out her sketchbook and was recording the scene in her usual extraordinary detail.

When the group drew near enough to take a look, they gasped at the size of the beasts, which were grazing peacefully in the long grass. The animals were noisy and appeared to be unconcerned about their safety. Bellows rang out constantly. They were very different from the silent deer and mountain goats the Nuvens were accustomed to hunting.

Mothers called to their young and sometimes were answered by a bleat. Lower-pitched rumblings also rang out from even larger animals, which appeared to be males.

“Remember, we only need to take a grazer that will feed us for the next meal,” Raaf whispered to the others.

Ganick nodded and surveyed the herd for an animal that would fit their needs. After a few moments, he whistled softly to the others and pointed out a black half-grown grazer that was eating at the edge of the herd. Without exchanging further words, the circle automatically broke into three groups.

The first two groups of three led by Ganick and Juban slowly made their way around either side of the young grazer. The grass was so long, the hunters’ crouching approach went undetected. The remaining four men led by Raaf formed a semicircle and edged its way forward. The hunters closed in on the oblivious calf as it wandered about looking for tender morsels of grass.

Using soft, birdlike chirps, the hunters called back and forth to alert each other of the grazer’s movement. At the moment all groups had signaled affirmative, a loud, sharp whistle sounded.

With a whoop, the six hunters who had cut the grazer off from the rest of the herd sprang out of the grass and ran toward the animal. It snorted in surprise, turned and ran toward Raaf and his men, who waited with their bows drawn and ready. When the animal drew near enough, the four archers sprang up and unleashed their arrows. All the missiles hit their intended mark.

Even with four arrows in it, the young grazer bellowed painfully and tried to bolt away. Terrified by the attackers and pain from the arrows, the animal tried to limp back to the herd, but another covey of arrows from Ganick’s men hit it. The grazer stumbled to its knees. It desperately tried to rise, but the arrows had done their job. With a last painful gasp, it fell twitching on its side.

Raaf and the others triumphantly ran toward their prize. The hunters had barely lowered their bows when an angry bellow erupted behind them. Juban’s group twirled around and barely had time to dodge out of the way of a larger grazer that charged into their midst. Caught unprepared, the other hunters had to retreat quickly as the angry mother charged over to her baby.

The female grazer bellowed loudly and stomped her foot in the grass when she reached her offspring. She sniffed her unresponsive calf and bellowed over and over again. By this time, Raaf and his nine circle brothers had reconnoitered nearby. The Nuvens had never seen a grazer react this way. Deer and mountain goats always fled for safety when hunters felled a herd mate. Survival was always the first instinct with the wild animals.

However, this mother now protected her fallen offspring. She called loudly, tossed her head up and down angrily, and trampled a ring of grass encircling her calf. The hunters formed a line and charged the grazer, yelling loudly and waving their arms in an attempt to drive her off. Instead of fleeing as expected, the mother lowered her head and charged the Nuvens.

For the first time in their lives, the hunters had to run from an animal. The grazer ran after one hunter, then turned and chased another until all the Nuvens had retreated to a safe distance.

“What kind of an animal is not afraid of being attacked?” panted Ganick, who had barely avoided being trampled by the angry mother.

Raaf shook his head. “These animals must have never been hunted. She is unafraid of us.”

Juban frowned and stood with his arms folded across his chest. “We need to dress that dead one quickly or the meat will go bad. There is only one way to solve this. We have to kill the mother.” Even though they were frustrated and hungry, the other Nuvens started to object.

Juban’s suggestion contradicted the first rule of the hunt — never kill more than absolutely necessary. Dropping this mother grazer would rank as an obscenity in their eyes. Wounding her with an arrow or two also was unthinkable because the beast probably would suffer painfully before she died.

While the other hunters were arguing loudly, Ganick slipped away and slowly approached the grazer, who stood snorting near her dead calf. Instead of wielding a bow, he pulled a sling out from his belt and placed a palm-sized rock in the pouch. His circle saw what he was doing and stopped arguing. Ganick was the only one among them who was proficient in using this ancient weapon most Nuvens had given up on in favor of the more-efficient bow. The other nine fell in a few paces behind him, holding their bows at the ready, just in case Ganick was unsuccessful.

The mother grazer bellowed a warning then charged Ganick, who braced himself and spun the sling with dizzying speed around his head. With a snap of his wrist, a stone struck the animal in the snout with a dull smack.

She stopped and shook her head painfully. The grazer stomped her hoof as a warning but held her ground. Ganick reloaded his sling, twirled it again, and hit the grazer between the eyes. This time she bellowed in pain and backed up as blood dripped down her nose. The confused animal shook her head and retreated to her calf. Ganick followed and fired another stone, which caromed off the top of her head. She snorted at her baby once more then turned and trotted back to the herd.

Ganick smiled at his compatriots. “We will eat well tonight.”

8

“Who could have done this?” A little boy wailed to his father as he pointed to the site where his favorite calf had been slaughtered and then cooked for a meal. Meat scraps were strewn about the area. About thirty meters away, the hide had been scraped clean and was stretched out on the ground, held tightly by pegs pounded into the earth. The father and son had been checking on the grazer herd when they made the gruesome discovery.

“I have never seen anything like this before,” the father, a ruddy-faced man, said as he tried to comfort his son. “Didn't these people know all they had to do was ask for food if they were hungry?”

Another man shook his head sympathetically as he strode around the area, examining the strange scene. He knelt to feel the ashes, finding them barely warm. “It is as if these people hunted the beast then cooked it here as in the old times before our herds grew large enough to provide for us,” Agusto Harn said. “Apparently, whoever killed the calf plans to return to collect the hide. Otherwise they would not have taken the trouble to clean it and stretch it out to dry.”

The first man nodded. “It is very fortunate for us a troop of Tarylan guards were close by. Normally, it would take us at least two days to travel to Verde City to report this crime.”

Agusto smiled and clasped the older herdsman on the shoulder. “We were on maneuvers when one of your villagers found us. It will be our duty to find these criminals and bring them to justice.” The Tarylan captain turned to face one of his men, who had approached a moment earlier. “Well, Sergeant, have you found their tracks?” Agusto asked, his eyes glinting in expectation.

The younger Tarylan saluted. “Yes sir, their trail is hard to read, but apparently they are following the line of foothills down the valley.”

Agusto returned the salute. “Gather the troop quickly. We need to find these interlopers before they can escape. It appears they are possibly three or four hours ahead of us.” He bade farewell to the herders and smiled as he strode away.
What luck to have stumbled upon a trace of the intruders we are hunting,
he thought.

The Tarylan captain had expected it to take at least a week to find the strangers who had somehow found their way over the mountain. It was obvious these strangers were not familiar with Verdan laws and customs or they would not have killed the calf without permission.

Agusto and his men tried to follow the strangers' path, but they were slowed by the hard-to-find tracks. The Tarylans had to stop often and backtrack when the trail seemed to disappear. Apparently, the strangers were not traveling single file, as was the norm for Verdans. The tracks would spread out almost nine or ten persons wide for half a kilometer or so and then change arbitrarily to a different pattern, making it difficult to follow.

Growing frustrated with his troop's slow progress, Agusto sent three scouts to fan out and sprint ahead in hopes of finding the strangers. It was midday and he feared they might not catch the others before nightfall. Three long excruciating hours passed as the Tarylans slowly followed the trail. The shadows of late afternoon were growing long when one of the scouts returned with good news.

When the young man regained his breath, he reported seeing a small band of people traveling at a quick pace. The scout had followed the group for several kilometers and watched as they routinely changed into different formations while they continued their journey.

Satisfied he had found their targets, the Tarylan signaled to a fellow scout and ordered the other man to follow the group while he returned to the troop.

“Excellent work,” Agusto crowed, slapping the scout on the back. “Now we can go double time, catch up to these criminals, and perhaps take care of our business before nightfall.” The other Tarylans grinned in anticipation as they hurried to catch up with their fellow trooper, who was trying to keep the strangers in sight.

After another long hour of double time, the troop spotted their scout, Vitor Pratern, crouching at the top of a hill. He signaled them to slow their pace and take cover when they neared his position.

“Where are they?” Agusto asked, panting from his run.

Vitor, who was Agusto's nephew, grimaced as he pointed to a small grove at the edge of a foothill.

“Sir, the strangers disappeared into those trees less than half an hour ago. They have not come out nor have I seen any movement. I suspect they are bedding down for the night.”

Agusto nodded in agreement. He looked with pride at his sister's son.

At first, the captain had been reluctant to add the tall, gangly youngster to the troop. But the youth's skill in long-distance running had proven to be invaluable.

“Night is falling, but at least we know where they are,” Agusto said, smiling. “They are trapped. We will surround them during the night and take them when they move in the morning.”

The captain turned to his men. “The Seers will be pleased that we have brought this dangerous situation to such a quick resolution. They will be pleased with all of you.”

Looking up and down his troop, his eyes rested on Eret Drumlin and Yev Serrat. The reprieved criminals stared with savage intensity at the grove.

“Remember, men, the rewards will be substantial for successfully carrying out this mission,” Agusto called out. The captain nodded curtly at Eret and Yev. They both nodded, fully understanding what their reward would be for completing their deadly assignment.

9

The sun had barely cleared the mountain range when the Tarylan troop crept its way into the grove where they believed the intruders were bedding down. Agusto Harn planned to have his men catch the slumbering strangers and kill them quickly. With javelins and clubs poised for combat, the Tarylans eased through the trees, stopping often to listen and look for signs of the intruders.

Halfway through the grove, the troop found nothing. The only sound came from twitters and odd whistles of birds in the trees. At last they came upon a depression in the ground where a campfire had been made, but it had long since died out.

The strangers they sought were nowhere to be found. A quick inspection of the campsite only gleaned a few scraps of food. The Tarylans continued their sweep through the grove, but found nothing. When they reached the opposite side of the grove, the men lowered their weapons, seeing only the steep embankment of a foothill looming before them.

Agusto exhaled angrily. The intruders apparently had crept away in the middle of the night. The captain shook his head in disbelief. His men had kept watch on the grove all night. They hadn’t seen or heard anyone emerge from the trees. The troopers, who had been primed for battle, now grumbled with disappointment.

As if to mock the Tarylans, the trees suddenly came alive with the sounds of birds awaking for the day. Agusto turned and signaled for his men to make their way back through the grove. This time, the troopers did not bother to disguise their movements. They noisily chattered and strode through the trees, eager to reach the edge and try to find the intruders' trail.

The Tarylans had not made it as far as the abandoned campsite when one of them called out an alarm. Ten figures quietly emerged from behind trees only about twenty meters in front of them. Agusto swore under his breath at being surprised. The strangers obviously had been watching and waiting for the Tarylans.

One of the intruders, a young man with blond, curly hair, stepped forward a few paces. He smiled and raised both of his hands in a strange gesture. Seeing the young man wielded no weapons, Agusto carefully returned his javelin to its holder on his back, turned to his men and warned them in a hushed tone to be ready for his signal.

Both men slowly advanced until they were only a few meters apart.

“I am Raaf Vonn of the Nuven people,” the young stranger said proudly, touching his chest. Agusto just shook his head curiously, unable to understand. After two hundred years of separation, the Nuven dialect was very different from the Verdan tongue, which had evolved from a blend of Old Earth languages.

Raaf seemed unperturbed, however, and repeated himself. The Tarylan captain smiled, stepped forward and feigned a helpless gesture. Hoping to catch the young stranger off guard, Agusto snatched the knife fastened behind his back and thrust it savagely at the younger man.

Raaf instinctively sidestepped the clumsy attack. In one smooth, quick motion, he snatched his own knife from his belt, whirled toward the Tarylan and plunged it into the attacker's neck. Seeing their captain collapse, all but two of the Tarylans shouted in unison and rushed toward the waiting Nuvens. However, a hail of arrows struck the attackers, felling about half their number.

The remaining troopers flung their javelins in desperation, but hit nothing. The two groups met in a clash of bodies, knives, and clubs. Even though the Tarylans were older, they were no match for the Nuvens, who were descended from generations of people who had to fight for their very existence.

As ordered, Eret Drumlin and Yev Serrat hung back, looking in vain for the young woman they had been ordered to kill. However, after seeing all their comrades fall at the hands of the strangers, the two surviving Verdans tried to flee for their lives. The two escapees failed to get far. Another batch of arrows easily cut them down.

Raaf shook his head in disgust at the useless loss of life. “I thought the others would be happy to see us,” he said to Ganick Nels who stood nearby.

Ganick shrugged. “They obviously must mistrust strangers. Perhaps they thought we were Tanlians.”

Raaf started to answer when he was interrupted by a shout from Juban Caleria.

“One is still alive.” The circle surrounded the fallen Verdan, a thin, harmless-looking youth about their age. Juban stood with the sling in one hand and a knife in the other. He pointed at an ugly gash in Vitor Pratern's forehead. “He still lives. I missed his temple. Shall I finish him?”

The young men looked at each other, not knowing what to do. However, Darya interceded on behalf of the injured youth. Raaf's sister had been hiding in a tree during the fight. She now scrambled down and rushed to Vitor's side. “He is hurt, Raaf,” she said looking at her brother.

Raaf gestured helplessly. “I think Darya has made the decision for us. Killing him now would disturb her greatly. Besides, he doesn't look like much of a threat.” The others agreed. Bandages were made by ripping the dead Verdans' clothes and applied to Vitor's wound. A stretcher was put together to carry him.

Ganick frowned. “It looks like he will live, but what do we do with him?”

Raaf thought for a moment. “We came here to contact the others. Perhaps they will be friendlier if we bring back one of their young men.” The circle marched through the valley for almost an entire day without seeing any signs of other people. As dusk was approaching, flickering lights from a small village could be seen.

It was nightfall when the Nuvens approached the edge of the village with caution. Raaf and the others would have waited until daybreak to approach the strangers, but the wounded man needed attention. He had not regained consciousness.

After making sure no one saw them, the circle silently approached a large cabin and placed Vitor's stretcher near the door. The Nuvens melted into the shadows and waited. Juban stepped forward, placed a stone in his sling, twirled it and let the missile fly. The stone hit the door with a loud crack.

After a moment, the door flung open. A man peered out and called to others when he saw Vitor in the stretcher. In less than a minute, the wounded Tarylan had been picked up and taken inside. The first man from the cabin strode outside and looked around. He shouted several times.

The Nuvens could tell he was calling out questions by his tone, but they did not understand his words. Finally, the man called out something familiar, “Allo? Allo? Is anyone out there?”

The Nuvens smiled at each other. “Is he saying hello; our greeting?” Juban asked excitedly.

Raaf nodded. “Finally a word we recognize. Perhaps there is hope to talk to these people.” A scratching sound drew his attention to Darya, who stood beside her brother. Sketch pad in hand, she gazed intently at the village while her hand effortlessly glided across the paper, recreating the cluster of houses perfectly.

Raaf smiled. “I know a way we can communicate with these people.” He playfully tugged his sister's hair. “You've already proven to be a valuable part of this troop, Darya. I think you're going to help us again.” She stopped drawing for a moment to gaze in puzzlement at Raaf. Darya reached out and pulled his hair and then returned to her work.