Kufae and the shaman

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.