Kufae stepped gently
on fallen leaves as she walked through the foggy forest quiet, the
cold seeping into her bones. However, such things did not worry her.
She had braved many nights on chilly hilltops and felt even stronger
at dawn. Though Kufae took much pride in her youthful strength, there
was something unnatural about the mood of the woods, as if the fog
was trying to reach into her skull and make her slow to reason. It
was surely the work of a shaman. But she knew hunting always
heightened her senses and the unease could just be her imagination.
There was no shaman within miles of here after all. Only her people
knew of such skills, unless the prince had sent a shaman so far
north. The possibility seemed very unlikely. Even Kufae was not worth
such a hunt.
She shook her head
to clear it before sprinting forward with light steps, imitating the
movement of a small rodent. Together with the rest of her hunting
party, they advanced in a sideways line, nobody in front of the
other. After several paces, Kufae stopped and listened to the woods.
The animals were usually keen at recognising the heavy footsteps of
approaching predators who only brought them death.
”Quack! Quack!”
she heard the pregnant Carro calling somewhere to her left and Kufae
allowed herself a smile. The girl's imagination was fascinating. She
would take every lesson and attempt to make it better. It was
traditional for hunters to crow like cocks and trick their prey, but
the girl had told Kufae the animals might soon fear the crow of a
cock more than the roar of a lion. So she had better quack like a
duck, it seemed.
Out of the corner of
her eyes, Kufae saw the girl gesturing ahead to a space between some
fern underbrush. When she crawled up to the clearing, a spotted deer
was standing there, its ears twitching as it heard Carro quacking
again. But the graceful creature was still in doubt, looking into the
surrounding bushes for a sure sign of danger. Kufae looked to her
left to make sure the other archer of their group was in place before
nodding to Carro to proceed as planned. At that, the pregnant girl
walked out from behind her tree, her back turned to the deer which
quickly reared.
The laborious gait
of the intruder seemed no obvious threat to the animal, though it
continued to watch her intently. But Carro pretended to be unaware of
the deer as she walked past. All the while, the animal had been
backing away from her and unknowingly drawing closer to where the
archers hid in wait. The last member of the party was Farro, lean and
silent as the wind. The girl had just slipped between two trees to
creep further into the tall grass. Ever since they had left the
shadow of the mountain, they all trained with a bow and sword at dawn
and dusk. Farro had proven herself with a bow and Ulugae had taken to
calling her Farro the Feather. She was in charge of the hunt today
and given the honour of this kill.
Kufae had a bow as
well, though just as a back up. But now she could not see Farro
through the tall stalks, even as she slowly raised her own weapon.
Then as their decoy vanished into the far brushes, there was a loud
creak to her left, the unmistakable sound of a bending bow. Kufae saw
the deer tense and knew the game was done. Before she could pull back
on her bowstring, however, the animal dropped to the ground, an arrow
quivering in its side.
Kufae quickly
dropped the bow and drew out her dagger as she exploded out of the
fern bush. She saw the other girl rushing out with a ready dagger as
well, but Kufae reached it first. The deer was still alive and only
stunned by the suddenness of the attack. Before the animal could
recover, she put the dagger to its throat and worked the blade back
and forth until her hands were sleek with warm blood. The noise of
the attack had called back Carro to the clearing. All the heaviness
had left her movement as she jogged up to them. Kufae stepped back as
the pregnant girl knelt down and pressed her mouth to the wound.
She had never gotten
use to the sight. The Bumi girls said their people believed the life
blood spilling out of a creature could be used to fortify the birth
of another. The ritual was meant to strengthen the northern girl and
the child inside her. It must be working, Kufae thought. After a
fortnight of traveling and training, the girl had lost most of her
clumsiness, though she had not forgiven Kufae for killing the father
of her child yet.
“You did well,”
she said to Carro to make her stop. ”Even convinced me with that
act as well. Maybe we should call you Carro the Cunning.”
The girl looked up
and frowned. ”You taught me well,” she said grumpily after a
glance at her sister.
”We should be
leaving before the smell of blood brings unwelcomed guests,” Kufae
said, cleaning off the gore from the dagger on the deer's skin before
returning the weapon to her belt.
After retrieving her
bow, she threw the kill over her shoulders and they walked back to
where the horses were tethered. As they approached the edge of the
woods, they heard the bleating of goats since and walked cautiously
towards noise. Kufae could see her brother talking to a hulking
figure on a wagon drawn by a old wildebeest. It was a nervous
conversation, she could tell. Beside them was a boy on foot, possibly
the one in charge of the herd around his knees. He had an arrow
nocked on his bow, though the weapon was decently lowered.
Kufae gestured for
the Bumi girls to spread out and approach from different angles. She
chose to take the most direct route. As they began to fan out to
encircle the herdsmen, Carro stepped on a twig which cracked under
her weight and Kufae found herself the dead target of an unwavering
arrowhead.
Kufae already had
her own bow leveled with the boy's chest. “I can dodge any arrow if
I see it coming,” she said with no hint of fear. “Do you want to
find out?”
“Well done,
sister,” Ulugae called, barely hiding his relief on seeing them. He
stood favouring his left leg to keep the pressure from the wound in
his side. “This is Eduu and his son, gracious herdsmen.”
“Put that away,
boy,” the man named Eduu snapped at his son. Then turning to Kufae,
he went on amiably, “May the skyfather keep away the storm when you
travel far from home.”
“May the skyfather
bless you with everything you wish us,” she replied, kicking her
way through the small herd of three goats to stand beside her horse.
The northern girls followed the cue.
Eduu was a fat man
with a dull face scarred by some infection that had never truly
healed, his eyes watering. He cut an imposing figure with thick
fingers hugging the sheathed sword that laid across his lap. The hilt
was made of boar tusk and carved in the form of a vulture. “You
travel a treacherous land, Edorian. My people are plagued with
raiders, and these forest floor has listened to the last heartbeat
for many of their kin. I don't think any of our chiefs would take
kindly to intruders.”
“We are just
passing through.”
“And why are
Edorians so far away from the mountain?”
Kufae studied the
man for a moment. “We have a message for a chief of one of the
western tribes,” she said finally, returning her arrow to its
quiver. It looked like a gesture of good fate. However, she knew if
it came to close fighting, a sword would serve her better. Perhaps
she could test the mettle of this man who was obviously not a
herdsman.
“I am no chief,”
Eduu said, “so I do take kindly to visitors. Sit and share some
palm wine with me and my son. Let it not be said that Eduu the
Herdsman turned his back on strangers.”
“It would not be
said,” Carro replied, taking a step towards the wagon.
“Our message is an
urgent one,” Kufae put in quickly, ignoring the confusion on the
girl's face when she heard that. “The skyfather bless you for your
hospitality but we must be on our way. Daylight is wasting.”
“But you said we
could rest after the hunt,” the pregnant girl protested.
“My sister lies
sometimes,” Ulugae replied, quick to grasp the situation. “Don't
worry, you will get use to it.”
Kufae did not wait
for a response, but walked over and began securing the deer to her
mount's rump. When she was done, she untethered the horse and led it
forward by the reins.
“If you will not
drink with me,” Eduu said, “then accept my advice. The route west
is patrolled by warriors of one of the biggest Abun camps. So keep
away from the open fields.” This time, he spoke looking straight at
Ulugae. “A mile from here, there is a stream. I still would not
want to be traveling west with you, but follow the water and you
stand a chance. It would take you around the camp.”
“We will,”
Ulugae replied with a slight bow. “The skyfather bless you.”
The father and son
watched them as they rode west, the fog thinning in front of them.
Carro was all mourning for her lost rest, complaining of back pain
and sand in her eyes. The others stayed alert though, taking the
route through a forest of pine trees to hide their tracks on the
fallen needles until they reached the valley and the stream. Kufae
found shelter on one of the nearby hills and they made camp. From
here, she had a decent view of the narrow pass into the valley while
staying out of sight within the patchy treeline.
As they all tied
their reins to the thicker bushes, Kufae made them keep the saddles
on the horses in case they had to decamp quickly. The deer was eaten
raw and Kufae found a good spot against the bough of a tree to rest,
but she sat uneasy all the while. At last, the anticipated noise of
pursuers came with the dying light of the sun. The others scrambled
to her position when they heard the grunting of the wildebeests in
the pass below.
“Who are they?”
Farro asked as they watched the eight riders galloping along the
muddy bank on their way west.
It was Ulugae who
answered. “Friends of Eduu.”
“I do not
understand. The herdsman sent riders after us?”
“He is no
herdsman,” Kufae replied. “Three goats and such a valuable weapon
to guard them with. That was a poor disguise if you ask me. The one
good word out of his mouth was telling us to avoid the open fields.
But he sent us down here so he would know where to find us.”
“Why would he want
to attack us?”
Ulugae cleared his
throat. “You were listening with your ears,” he said coolly.
“They could barely hide their lust for our horses. I was afraid I
would have had to fend them off before your return. My only worry was
the fat man. He sat with the pose of someone who seemed quite deadly
with that sword of his.”
“Your worry should
have been the boy, brother,” Kufae said, listening to the hoofbeats
fading in the distance.
“Why?”
“He is a shaman,”
Kufae replied, leaving him in stunned silence as she hurried to her
horse. “We must be on our way before the bandits realise we didn't
go through the valley and ride back here.”
The pregnant girl
had remained quiet through the conversation and Kufae did not shame
her by glancing in her direction. However, it was a lesson learned,
she hoped. Comfort was usually the forerunner for downfall in the
game of survival. Kufae had learned so when the senior warriors use
to send them out to patrol the mountain passes, sleeping beneath the
stars for days at a time. It was hard to keep alert during idle hours
and they would test each other. If anyone was able to breach the
guard of another, the shameful tale would be told around the fires
until the culprit reclaimed their pride.
Here, however, there
was no tribe to shame Carro for her weakness and nobody expected a
redeeming act, but perhaps the older girl would know better than to
doubt Kufae's leadership again. As the group rode back through the
pass and directed their horses northward, only the chorus of crickets
came from their rear.
