The Hunter (6 page)

Braldt skirted the edge of the great stone and leaped out into the open, dropping his sword and staring in some confusion
at the figure of the girl who crouched there, spear and sword gripped tightly in her own small hands, staring up at him with
equal surprise.

“Keri?” Braldt said in amazement as he recognized his adopted sister. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. Hoping that you would come this way if you came at all.”

Her voice faltered as she looked at the terrible scar that swathed his shoulder and the numerous wounds that marked his body,
then down at the pup who had not ceased his growling despite the fact that Braldt had made no attempt to kill her.

“Well, so you have found me,” Braldt said impatiently, his heart hammering in his chest. “What is wrong?”

“Auslic,” the girl replied in a stammer, dragging her eyes away from Beast. “He is failing. I do not know if he still lives
for it was four moonsets ago that he took to his bed. The full Council is gathering and Carn says that Auslic will die, although
Father says no. I took him a bowl of Mother’s broth, and when none were listening, he bid me to find you. I dared not venture
into the Forbidden Lands by
myself and I could but pray that the Guardian Stone and the Moon Mother would protect me and that you would return by this
same path.”

Keri’s bright brown eyes were filled with defiance and the old anger that she had not been born a boy. Braldt knew what it
cost her to admit that she had been afraid to enter the empty lands by herself, for throughout her young life Keri had competed
with Carn and Braldt and had often bested Carn even though he was older by fully eight moon turns. She had never ceased to
resent her mother’s insistence that she don long skirts when she reached the turning age and was always willing to slip away
with bow and arrow and spear when she should have been learning to cook and mend and tend to household chores. Braldt admired
her fierce nature, so like his own, and felt his heart quicken at the risk she had taken in remaining alone in this isolated
and dangerous place waiting for him to return. He doubted that even Carn would have had the courage to do so.

“What happened,” he asked as he began to pace swiftly toward the city.

“I don’t know. He fell silent when he learned of Hafnor’s and Solstead’s deaths and he had no interest in his food, even though
Mother prepared all his favorites to tempt him and the priests lay their hands upon him. Since then he has not moved but sits
in his chair and looks before him, seeing nothing.”

Keri glanced back at her sleeping bundle and her small pile of possessions and then at Braldt’s back as he drew swiftly away
from her and shook her head impatiently as she hurried to catch up with Beast darting in to snap at her heels.

“I knew it. I should never have gone,” Braldt muttered, blaming himself for Auslic’s collapse.

“How could you not go, it is your… ow! Braldt, call off your monster, it keeps biting at my ankles! Why have you brought this
thing back with you? Ow! Stop!” She turned to swat at Beast and he surged forward and snapped at her fingers.

“Beast,” Braldt said with a grunt as he swept the pup
up and slipped him inside his robes. Immediately the pup’s head emerged from the confining robes and kept Ken in constant
view, growling as though to let her know that Braldt was under his protection. “He is with me, now.”

“So, it would seem,” Keri mumbled with displeasure, glaring at the upturned lip and glistening incisors, as she wiped the
smear of blood from her fingertips. “I thought the idea was to kill the tupebeasts, not tame them.”

Braldt did not reply, saving his energy for the distance yet to be covered and whatever he might find when he arrived.

The Guardian Stone stood a full day’s travel from the
center of the city as did all the stones that ringed the perimeter. In all, there were two hundred and forty Guardian Stones,
as many stones as there were moonsets in a full turning, and Braldt had visited all of them during the long years of his youth
as he passed through one station and then another of his initiation into adulthood.

All boys began together in one raw lump, undistinguished from one another, having only their age, five, in common. They were
taken from their parents then and reared in communal buildings by the priests and the men who did their bidding, who would
decide their futures.

The priests were silent, never speaking, their features hidden away behind voluminous folds of dark material that swathed
them from head to toe. Even their hands were covered by gloves. A large silver plate, an image of Mother Moon, hung in the
center of their black robes, not a necklet or even woven into the heavy material, but seemingly fitted directly into their
bodies. This emblem was matched by a smaller image on the palm of their right hand.

Every boy wondered what the priests really looked like beneath the concealing folds of their robes and whether they disrobed
at night, but none dared to implement any of the plans that were brewed under the blankets in hushed whispers. There was something
mysterious and frightening about the priests, despite the fact that they were Mother Moon’s emissaries, something that could
not be defined. But as one grew older, the boys who were now men laughed at the memory of their younger selves and tried to
convince themselves that their fears had been nothing more than the
overactive imagination of youth. Braldt did not join in that laughter.

The priests going about their business wrapped in eerie silence, in robes of black and midnight blue, had decided their lives,
directing them first into classes where the basics of knowledge and religion were pounded into them. Those who showed quick
minds and aptitude were separated from their classmates and advanced to higher classes where they were taught all that their
minds could hold of mathematics, geography, religion, history, and philosophy. Those few who excelled were divided yet again
and given to the appropriate teachers.

Those who advanced no further than the first level completed their limited education and were then trained to become the farmers
and herdsmen and menial laborers of the tribe. There was no onus in these chores for they were necessary, the basis of the
wealth upon which the clan depended for their daily sustenance. But neither was there glory.

Others became teachers themselves or were slated to join the ranks of bureaucrats who functioned, mostly unseen, in the myriad
of chores needed to maintain tribal affairs. A few were chosen to become acolytes to the priests, and while their parents
accepted the rare honor with a glad face, in private they wept for they knew that their sons would be sent to the Temple of
the Moon and when and if they were seen again, they too would be wrapped in dark robes of silence.

All boys, even those destined to become priests and scholars, were required to learn the rudiments of battle. But, as with
education, those who excelled advanced on to other stations where they were taught all that they could learn. Those few who
were the very best, such as Braldt and Carn and a handful of others, would become the protectors, the very backbone of the
city-state, sworn to keep it from danger at the cost of their own lives if necessary.

Only a very few of these boys survived the keen scrutiny and winnowing process of the teachers and priests and went on to
form the elite cadre of those who were
deemed superior in both mind and body. From these precious few would come the future leaders and Council members of the tribe.
Braldt could count himself among those few, as could Carn and four others. Those who had gone before them had already taken
their places in the Council or other positions of responsibility.

Braldt had thought little of his future role in the affairs of the clan for he was content with his life as he knew it. Auslic’s
friendship warmed him and fulfilled his need for human companionship, and the duties that took him off into the desolate far
reaches of their lands satisfied his need for action as well as solitude. But if Keri’s words were true, his world was about
to crumble.

Braldt himself had no desire for a higher station and dreaded the day when he would be charged to take his place on the Council,
for he had no liking for the incessant yammer of voices arguing matters that for him held little interest. Nor could he picture
the clan without Auslic at its head. But all men must pass in their time, even Auslic.

Braldt knew that the title of chief would never pass to him for he was an outsider even though he had spent his life among
the Duroni. If Auslic should die, the title would undoubtedly be passed to Carn. Braldt shook off the feeling of dread that
accompanied this thought, trying to think of Carn’s good points, trying to convince himself that all would be well.

Carn was the obvious choice. He was a direct descendant of Auslic. He was intelligent, of that there was no doubt; his bright
eyes spoke eloquently of the brilliance that lurked behind them, the sharp, cutting wit and barbed words that flew straight
to their mark defeating any reply. Nor was he short of courage and his skill with sword and dagger were well known.

But there was something dark that lurked in Carn, some hidden anger that rose to the surface under stress and unleased sudden
rages that he could not always control. Carn had once killed a man during such a rage, over an imagined slight, and only his
unfeigned grief and his father’s
influence and several circles of silver had managed to sweep the matter under the table.

These thoughts and more filled Braldt’s exhausted mind as he drove himself over the last remaining distance into the outskirts
of the city. Beast had long ago given himself over to sleep for it was impossible to keep up and Braldt had kept him firmly
wrapped inside the sling of his robes. Ken had fallen behind early in the day and though he would have welcomed her presence,
he could not afford the delay of waiting for her or matching his strides to those of her own. She had been sent to find him
and she would understand his actions. He hoped.

The open rangeland where the beasts of burden and those who provided meal and drink roamed had long been left behind, their
keepers, many of whom were old friends, had raised their spears in greeting as he passed. The long, straight rows of the farmlands
had appeared then, the abundant crops of hot time having been gathered in and the pale green shoots of cool time just emerging
from the dark soil. Now there appeared the long, low rows of barracks that housed the young boys, serving as their homes and
their schools as they grew, determining their futures and the course of their lives.

The red sandstone circle that was the ring rose up before him, blotting out the sight of the newly risen moon. Braldt could
picture the rows upon rows of stone seats that circled the hard-packed earth that lay at the center. The ring. The place where
they played, studied, worked, trained, and ultimately fought, pitting themselves against their teachers, one another, and
then warriors from other tribes and, occasionally, fierce animals, all for the glory of the Moon Mother. Or so the priests
would have them believe. Braldt had his doubts.

The red sandstone cubes and high-walled circles that were home to the clan came next, the size and number of their cubes and
circles dictated by the size of the family that dwelled within. Some families, blessed with numerous offspring and extended
marriages, took up entire blocks with their enclaves. Other families, such as Carn’s, were quite
small, composed of but four members: Carn; his father, Otius; his mother, Jos; Keri; and Braldt. Each had his or her own cube
for sleeping and there was a central cube for the purpose of eating and family matters, but they had no need for their own
circular courtyard for they entertained no one but themselves and to Otius’s great sorrow, no grandchildren clung to his fingers
or bounced upon his knee.

The inner city with its labyrinth of buildings lay beyond the warren of dwellings, filled with the offices of those who ran
the city-state and all their hundreds of minions forever scurrying thither and yon like demented rabbits. Braldt took little
notice of them for the thought of them numbed his mind. Not for a heartbeat could he bear to imagine their dull, confined
lives. All of his attention was focused on the circular building that rose beyond the conclave of the bureaucrats, and was
constructed of shining black stone. It rose three times the height of any other building in the city and surpassed even the
ring in size. Only the Temple of the Moon was larger, more imposing. But here was the heart of the city, here was the Council
chambers, the place where the full Council convened and where Auslic ruled.

Braldt passed through the tall, narrow silver doors crowned by the emblem of the full moon, flanked on either side by a trail
of stars. This image was engraved upon the metal doors as well as the breast plates of the guards who stood watch on either
side, acknowledging Braldt’s presence by the fact that they made no move to stop him from entering.