Azaria (23 page)

Yumineh saw a confused heifer, turning circles, not sure which way to run, death all around it. She grasped another replacement spear from her quiver and let the primary fly. "'Zaria!" she screamed again.

Once more her weapon plunged deep into the fleshy part of the neck, and the aurochs' legs crumpled beneath it.

Another male aurochs was charging straight for her.

Yumineh ran at it like a falling star diving toward the earth.

Only paces from the beast, which was many times larger than her, Yumineh planted hard with her left foot and dodged to the right. With a line of sight opened to the bull’s throat, she swung her arm violently forward, sending her spear directly at it. "'Zaria!" she howled a third time and reached back for another replacement.

But it was unneeded.

The spear in flight plunged deep into the beast's throat and it fell.

In front of her, Yumineh saw no other aurochs standing. She spun around to find another kill, but there were none left. They were all downed. In frustration, she threw her spear into the ground and roared at the top of her lungs. She was still enraged, but had no target left to direct her fury. She briefly thought about chasing the fleeing herd down, but when she turned she found it was long gone.

The muscle inside her chest pounded, but she didn't feel it.

She was caught inside a moment of pure emotion. The super-charged mental state that had erupted within her was fueled by extreme amounts of adrenaline that saturated and overwhelmed her physical senses. She couldn't feel anything. Her only focus was on beating her treacherous rival - of preventing Azaria from stealing her glory. Only her sight remained and it was amplified by her distressed state. It would take a moment before she would come out of it.

Some of the hunters approached, to congratulate her on her kills, but she didn't hear their words or recognize their signals. Most had seen her dazzling, crazed display, but it wouldn't be until later that she would truly realize what she'd just done.

Yumineh lifted her mouth to the sky, letting her frustrations explode from her chest again. A deep, hoarse roar erupted and spread over the rolling hills. Her scream resonated inside the valley and echoed back, multiplying in volume and intensity.

The hunters surrounding her stared with wide, disbelieving eyes.

No one had ever witnessed anything like it before. No one had ever charged into the chaotic center of the slaughter. The young woman was covered in splattered aurochs blood and grimy, wet soil. She held a spear above her head as she howled her battle cry. To them it appeared the Great Earth Mother had risen up from the dirt beneath them and entered the body of the toned, bronzed young woman. She didn't look like one of them. She was a walking, living goddess.

Yumineh was not the first to let her voice soar after a victory. It was a common practice. However this was more than a celebration of success. It was an explosion of frustration and pent-up despair.

But those watching her heard something else. It was a warning to all the beasts in the lands.
We might be smaller than you, but we are the dominant force here!
And it was a warning to the neighboring peoples.
We can defend ourselves. Do not test us!

Luzon was the first to join in. He craned his head back and opened his lungs, holding a spear above his head in imitation of the possessed Fox Camp girl. Another of the young warriors joined in and then two more. Dogahn joined. Then Azerban, followed quickly by Irizahner. Soon the entire band of Natu hunters was roaring at the top of their lungs in celebration of their success. The echoing, accumulated thunder swept over the hills. Even the largest, most deadly of the beasts within the vicinity - the cave lions - cowered at the bedeviling uproar.

Yumineh stopped first, slowly bringing her head down to find the scene confounding. Her other senses were returning. What was everyone doing? Why were they screaming? Her throat felt raw. Had she been screaming too?

One by one the other hunters ceased their howls and returned their gaze to her, waiting to see what she'd do next. Was she still the goddess? Or had the young woman returned? Yumineh stared back at them with blank expression. She wondered why they stared at her.
Did I do something wrong? Did I stop screaming too early?
She turned to find the elders for direction and met Azerban's eyes.

He saw the questioning look in the young girl's gaze and recognized that the Mother had departed. The young Fox Camp girl had returned. He approached and held out his arms. She fell into them. "That was amazing, Yumineh! I've never seen anything like it..."

"What?" Yumineh sobbed. She didn't know what he was talking about.

"You are extraordinary!" he repeated.

Some of the elder hunters had begun to examine the carcasses. "Four kills!" one of them yelled. "She had four direct kills!!"

The other hunters were inching toward them, the elders approaching first. Azerban braced her, making sure she was set on her own feet before letting go. "Four kills!" one of them repeated, putting his hand on her shoulder to acknowledge her.

"Amazing!" another said, taking her triceps within his hand and gently shaking.

"I've never heard of anything like it," a third, elder hunter remarked.

Yumineh didn't know what they were talking about. Four kills? She didn't remember killing anything. Were they saying she somehow had four direct kills? That was ridiculous. A hunter hoped for one per hunt. Two was considered an impressive feat. She had only
heard
of long-dead hunters who had three in one hunt. But four? It didn't seem possible. There were over a hundred participating hunters and they only hoped for thirty to forty heads. The chances of getting one was less than half. That was why those young men and women attempting to prove themselves true hunters were given the most desirable assignments with the stampeders. Only they were close enough to have a good chance of bringing down an aurochs with one spear.

Yumineh closed her eyes and saw a beast fall to the ground, blood gushing from its neck. As it slid, the horns came straight for her. She leapt out of the way. While she was still in the air, she looked down and saw her spear sticking out of the poor beast.
Yes! I did kill that animal,
she realized. She saw another vision of her spear plunging deep into the neck of a female. Slowly, her actions were coming back to her. The fog was dispersing. As she remembered each scene, her back straightened. She held herself up proudly, realizing what they were saying was true. She inhaled deeply through her nostrils and cast the warm air from her lips.
I did kill all four of those beasts!

Daneel was racing down the canyon’s side, screaming at the top of her lungs. "Yumineh! Yumineh! You were magnificent!!" She was so happy for her troubled friend, tears filled her eyes. She leapt into Yumineh's arms, nearly knocking her over.

"Daneel, did you see it? Did you see me?" Yumineh asked.

"Yes! Yes! And you were wonderful!"

I did it! I finally did it,
she told herself.
I've finally beaten her. I've proven myself. I've beaten Azaria. Now everyone will know the truth. They will see her for the fraud she is. They'll know it was me who truly deserved to win the Long Race. Dogahn will forget about her. He'll realize it's me he truly loves.

As if she had willed him to her, Dogahn approached and took her in his arms. He kissed her on the forehead. "Yumineh. That was incredible! You are amazing!"

She looked deeply into his eyes and smiled. She couldn't remember ever being so happy. All her planning and scheming had been unnecessary. She just needed to prove herself. That's all it took. She felt a hand gently grip her arm and turned to face its owner.

"Yumineh! I'm so happy for you. You were unbelievable!" Azaria said.

Yumineh looked at her rival, her jealousy and hatred now displaced by pity. She took her in her arms and held her for a moment. "Thanks," she whispered.
I know it will be hard for you,
she silently told Azaria.
It will hurt so much. I know how much. But he wasn't meant for you. He loves me. You're a beautiful girl, with a lot of status and a lot of talent. It won't be hard for you to find a good man.

---

Immediately the hunters began to skin and quarter the meat, planting the hearts within the ground in gratitude to the Mother. After the corrallers had claimed their share, anyone who had been granted a direct kill was able to do with their carcass as they chose, except for a significant portion of the meat which was expected to be handed over to the community. Some would be given to those who had stayed behind. Some would also be set aside for the winter stores. The best organs and furs were saved for themselves, but since so much work was involved in quartering the carcasses, they often shared some of the kill with those who assisted. Those with shared kills were also expected to contribute to the community supply. The rest they divided between themselves. Serious disputes were rare, but it wasn't unusual for the administering Ta'araki to have to mitigate an argument or two. Azerban made sure no one participating in the hunt would return empty-handed.

Despite the prodigious task in front of her, Yumineh had more than enough offers of help. Most of the volunteers didn't even want anything in return. It seemed they just wanted to be near her, to introduce themselves or to talk to her. Her actions had instantly transformed her into the most desired female in all the three camps, at least among the present hunters. She was quickly becoming a living legend and while the hunters worked, the stories of her feats were being told over and again. With each hunter’s retelling of what they’d witnessed, new insights were gained. The beginnings of an epic tale were forming and those with musical ability were already composing their songs.

Yumineh generously donated all the meat from two of her kills to the community, a bequest that served to further raise her exploding status. The truth was she had no use for the meat anyway. She was alone with only an aunt left in Fox Camp. Even one aurochs would be too much for them. She would eventually trade away much of the two she had left. Many of her volunteers offered to help her carry her remaining prizes back.

Azaria and Dogahn were busy carving up their own carcasses. Azaria had her own direct kill to deal with, and Dogahn had two, an accomplishment that would have brought more acclaim had Yumineh's feat not far surpassed it. But he didn't mind. He liked Yumineh. She'd had a hard life, and he was happy for her success. Tiriz had also made a direct kill and Luzon matched Dogahn's two. He'd made his first direct kill early, at the age of twelve, a feat which had also attracted no small amount of attention. He was proud of his two kills, but was hoping for three. For Azaria, Dogahn and Tiriz however, their kills proved their abilities, marking a distinct change for them among the Natu. They were now Hunters and with the title came heightened status, although Azaria already had more than she cared for.

Since Yumineh had more than enough assistance, Daneel offered to help them.

"So you didn't kill anything, Daneel?" Dogahn teased.

"No," she laughed. Killing an aurochs was the furthest thing from her mind.

"You didn't even hit anything?" Azaria asked in exasperation. She didn't understand how Daneel could be so incompetent.

"Nope! But I did throw one spear..."

"Well that's an achievement!" Dogahn exclaimed. "And what poor soul did that noble spear hit?"

"The soul of a big rock!" Daneel laughed.

Azaria looked at her, shaking her head in disbelief.

Daneel, seeing the expression, replied defensively, "What?? I was too busy watching Yumineh. I was transfixed!"

"Trans-what?" Dogahn asked. Daneel was often using strange words that her trader father brought from distant lands.

"Transfixed! Paralyzed by Yumineh's awesomeness!"

"She means she couldn't get another spear out of her quiver," Azaria explained.

Daneel laughed again. "Yeah, and that too..."

Azaria stood straight and faced her, wondering how she could laugh off her ineptitude so easily. She was about to scold her on it when she noticed two scouts who weren’t of their party running straight for her. They could’ve been making for anyone, but somehow Azaria knew they were coming for her.

Indeed, the first man stopped directly in front of her. "You and your father must return quickly, Bird-Runner," he said.

The moniker annoyed her, but she ignored it. The runner's directive disturbed her far more. "Why is that, runner?" she asked.

"It is Ta'araki's mate," he replied. "Your mother is near death."

8

Azaria tore away from the messenger, sprinting to her father. She found him with some women quartering a carcass and informed him of the runner's message. After hearing it, they started out at a fast clip for Boar Camp, leaving all of their bounty, weapons and belongings with others.

Azerban had little trouble keeping up with his daughter. His motivation was great, but Azaria also ran at less than full-gait, so as not to outpace him. They ran silently, saving their energy. With the sun nearly down, the thatched roofs of the mud-brick shelters of Boar Camp finally came into view. They burst into their shelter to find Fahim sitting vigilantly at Zephia's side.

"Shhh!" the Ta’araki matron commanded with a single finger to her lips. "She is asleep."

"How is she?" Azerban asked.

"What happened?" Azaria demanded.

"She relapsed," Fahim answered. "Her cough became very severe and she started spitting up blood. She could barely mouth a word. I have kept her sedated since. It is very painful for her when she's awake and racked by her cough."

Azaria looked to her father and saw him nod at Fahim's words. "Are there any other treatments we could try?" he asked. "Do you know of anything else?"

"There are other remedies, but nothing as powerful as the Sugarroot," she answered, referring to the main ingredient in the solution she’d given to Azaria when she journeyed to the Great Temple.

Azerban looked down upon his sleeping mate, taking her cheek in his palm. Her skin was pale and had a chalky appearance. She’d lost so much weight over the summer, he barely recognized the gaunt face within his hand. Her hair was much grayer than he remembered and there seemed to be less of it. She looked nothing like the woman he’d mated. The realization came like a sudden blow to the chest and he broke down. "Zephia," he sobbed, falling to his knees, "you must come back to me. You can't leave me now."

Azaria, seeing her father losing hope, broke into tears also and threw her arms around his neck. Neither of them had noticed the scared, young boy sitting silently in the corner, with his arms wrapped around his knees. When he saw his father break, the boy couldn't stop his own flood of tears.

"Quzo!" Azerban gently commanded, "Come here, boy." His son needed no prodding and came obediently. Azerban pulled him in with his powerful arm and the three remained huddled for a long moment, weeping together.

Fahim allowed them their space before interrupting. "She has not eaten since this morning. I think we can wake her and see if she'll take some broth."

The suggestion seemed to help Azerban pull himself together. "That is a good idea... Azaria, can you prepare some broth?"

"Yes, father, of course."

"No meat, Azaria," Fahim instructed. "No salt. It will only irritate her lungs and strain her heart. Let me know when the water is boiling. I will add some ingredients to help with the bleeding."

Azaria nodded her understanding and Fahim left her to her task. "Azerban, will you walk with me? I would speak with you."

The two left Quzo at his mother's side, his face still wet.

"As you know," Fahim began, once they were far enough away to engage in delicate conversation, "we were to have our meeting tomorrow night to prepare for the ritual. I have asked the other Ta'araki to postpone it for two nights, however. I felt it appropriate given the circumstances." She motioned with her head toward his shelter.

"Thank you, Ta'araki. I appreciate your patience," Azerban replied.

"Everyone will understand if you feel you cannot participate, Azerban. You do not have to come." Her tone sounded almost hopeful, as if she was encouraging him to opt out, but in his grief he didn't detect it.

"No, Ta'araki. I appreciate your concern. But I will be there. Our responsibilities must be met, no matter the circumstances."

"Very well," she sighed.

"Ta'araki!" Azaria came running up. "The water is set to boil."

"Very good, dear. I will be right there." She watched the young woman turn around and run back to her shelter. "The runners came just before you with rumors of the orphan girls' feats. So are they true?"

"Completely. But I won't fault you even if you never believe it. Had I not seen her myself, I would never believe it - no matter whose lips the words sprang from."

"Interesting..." she said before falling silent.

When they returned, Fahim passed dried rosemary underneath Zephia's nose and several moments later she woke. Seeing the return of her mate and beloved daughter, she opened her mouth to greet them, but the inward breath instigated a violent fit of coughing. As Ta'araki had warned, she was soon hacking up a disturbing mixture of blood and mucus. Between spasms, Zephia was able to take a few sips of tea and the convulsions subsided long enough for her to swallow a good portion of broth. The coughing returned soon thereafter however, and Azerban asked Fahim to sedate her again, unable to watch his mate so tormented. In the span of her wakefulness, she was unable to utter even a single word, expressing her thoughts only by the look in her eyes. Azerban wondered if he'd ever hear his mate's beautiful voice again.

Azaria did little that sun or the next other than sit with her mother. She made sure the rag on her brow was kept clean and refreshed with cool water. She also took to rubbing her mother's limbs between her hands, trying to entice some warmth and color to return. The hunting party returned that evening, but Azaria was in no mood to greet them or reclaim what was hers. Their bounty was brought to their shelter, but when the men asked her specifically what she wanted done with them, she had no answer. Her father ended up directing them to leave it right outside the shelter, explaining he’d find someone to take care of the meat. Normally, he would expect his daughter and mate to perform the hard work of slicing up, drying and preserving all of the meat from their kills, but it was apparent Azaria was not up to the task. It concerned him that she’d lost interest in everything but her mother.

Dogahn stopped by late that evening and offered to help. Azerban thanked him profusely and gladly accepted any assistance he was willing to give, but Azaria didn't even acknowledge the favor. Dogahn tried to talk to her, to express sympathy and to console her, but she appeared to be in a daze. After a while he gave up and simply sat with her, holding her hand. When he said his goodbyes that first night Azaria nodded acquiescence and when he kissed her goodbye, she didn't turn to smile. He left worried he'd done something wrong. He wondered if she was angry with him for not returning with her when they first heard of Zephia's relapse. He would have, but thought hauling her things back would help more.

Little changed the next sun. Dogahn spent its entirety chopping and salting the meat from Azaria’s kills and setting it out to dry on racks. His mother Miryan worked on the carcasses he and his father had brought back and Azerban found a couple of women who agreed to work on his own meat in exchange for a good portion of it. Zephia's sister Shaledar was over often and helped as she could, but she also had her mate Tobit's share to manage. All of the meat had to be prepared quickly, before the summer heat spoiled it.

Azaria was no more responsive than she had been the previous sun. In between his work, Dogahn prepared mid-sun and evening meals for her family. In fact, the only thing Azaria did do that sun was prepare more broth for her mother and tea for Fahim. Dogahn left that evening feeling confused, frustrated and a touch annoyed. Azerban sensed the young hunter's vexation and assured him not to worry. "She's lost in her grief, Dogahn," he told him. "But she’ll soon return to you. She loves you and appreciates what you’re doing, even if she doesn't now show it."

---

A few suns later, after spending the morning by Azaria's side, Dogahn decided to stop by the practice range to throw some spears at the targets. He needed to relieve his stress and knew of no better method. He came upon Yumineh giving some of the younger boys a clinic in how to properly throw a spear. He smiled upon approaching the scene, noticing not all of the boys were so young. A couple of the newly minted hunters were also there.

Yumineh had her back to him and didn't notice his arrival until he was well past her. "Dogahn!" she called upon sighting him. She hadn't seen him away from Azaria's shelter since their return from the hunt two suns ago. She was enjoying the attention and acclaim she'd received since her triumph on the steppes, but even for her, it was getting to be a bit much. Young boys had taken to following her around wherever she went. She even had to shoo them away when she stepped into the forest to relieve herself. There were also the more mature hunters. Some of them were shadowing her almost as closely as the children and she'd received a plethora of advances and solicitations to tie from aggressive suitors. Her response had evolved from flirtation, to indifference, to agitation, and was verging on almost straight-out hostility. Ironically, the one man from which she would've welcomed the attention had so far stayed away from her. It was disappointing, but she dismissed any doubts of his fidelity by reasoning he couldn't very well abandon Azaria with her mother on her death bed. It would just be too unseemly.

However, now Dogahn had come to her, and he was alone.

"I'm showing some of these young hunters how to properly throw a spear," she explained when he turned around. "Join us. I'm sure they'd appreciate any thoughts you might have." She addressed the group she was tutoring, "Dogahn is a well-respected, skilled hunter. He is already one of Boar Camp’s strongest."

The older boys humphed at this, but the younger ones looked at Dogahn with increased respect, taking Yumineh's description to heart. Flattered by the compliment from his beautiful and suddenly very popular friend, Dogahn was happy to help. "Sure!" he answered, smiling as he drew one of his throwing spears. He addressed the group of boys, "The most important point to remember while aiming is a balanced stance. If you are off balance, your spear will not go where you mean it to. Plant your back foot firmly. Strength comes from the back leg. So planting firmly is essential..."

Yumineh stood back, admiring him as he went on. She stood with her chin raised, taking pride in the fact he mostly echoed points she'd already made. She smiled as he directed his comments toward the two newly-minted hunters, as if they needed the very basic instructions. She recognized he was playing a sort of mocking game with them. They didn't belong in the group with the younger boys. It was obvious they were only pretending to need the instruction to get close to her. Dogahn was simply calling them out on it. She could also see they didn't appreciate his game at all. As Dogahn went on, they grew more and more agitated.

Finally, the taller of the boys had had enough. "Get out of my way, Dogahn. I'll show you how to throw a spear." Stepping in front of him, the boy looked at Yumineh and smiled. "Watch this!" He aimed for the farthest target, planted and threw. The spear went well past its mark.

"Oooohhh..." some of the younger boys cooed, impressed with how far his weapon had flown.

"That was a good throw, Tsikasi. You have a strong arm," Dogahn said. "But remember we were talking about precision, not strength. Why don't you try again with one of the closer targets? Maybe that first one there."

Yumineh giggled when she saw Dogahn point at the closest target. His quip was delivered with such an even, patronizing tone she couldn't help herself. She saw the boy Dogahn had called Tsikasi blush and heard his friend guffaw. Embarrassed and annoyed, he threw one of his spears at Dogahn's feet. "Piss off, Dogahn! I don't need your pathetic instruction. I'm more of a hunter than you'll ever be."

"Really?" Dogahn retorted, stepping on the spear stuck in the dirt in front of him, smashing it into the ground. "How many kills did you make during the last hunt?" He stopped to wait for the boy's answer. When he didn't immediately reply, Dogahn continued, "Because I made two. And Yumineh made four. So how many did you get?"

Tsikasi was irate with embarrassment, his face a fierce shade of scarlet red. Yumineh thought for a moment he was going to attack and began to regret laughing at him. She didn't mean for it to come to this. But Tsikasi chose a different tact. "You might have gotten lucky once, Dogahn. But everyone knows you don't control your spear."

Yumineh quickly grasped the meaning of his words. It was a common taunt among young men. Apparently, Dogahn wasn’t getting everything he desired from Azaria. She turned to see his reaction.

Dogahn's face was reddening now and the younger boys were murmuring again. A couple of them had started to call out under their breaths, "Fight! Fight!"

Dogahn didn't need much encouragement. He knew exactly what Tsikasi meant. Just as he’d feared, Luzon must have told all the other young men about his problems with Azaria. The thought sent rage coursing through his limbs. Throwing his spear down, he lunged at the other boy, rearing his fist back and swinging for his head, sending Tsikasi sprawling onto his back although he managed to block the blow.

Dogahn jumped on top of him, placing his knees on the other boy’s shoulders, raining his fists down onto Tsikasi’s unprotected face.

Tsikasi was badly bloodied before a couple of the older boys broke it up. Dogahn stormed off, Yumineh following him. She was shocked by his horrific display.

"Dogahn, are you okay?" she said, running after him.

"I don't want to talk about it, Yumineh," he growled, still livid but also ashamed he’d let his ire get the best of him.