Engraved - The Hunted Warrior

Chapter 8.2 Willowstream

It took the best part of three days, but the palisade at Willowstream was finished. Gultan and her younger cousin, Kordain, were on outer patrol duty. It was a dreadful night for such a job. Earlier in the day the dry heat had given way to monstrous black clouds of driving rain, and sky rending flashes of lightning.

"Come on cousin," Gultan shouted over the thudding of the fat drops on the ground, "this makes no sense. I don't know about you, but I can't see anything out here. Let's return to camp and patrol closer to the walls."

"Good idea," smiled Kordain.

The two cousins turned as lightning split the sky, casting the world for a second into stark black and white.

"Wait!" shouted Gultan.

"What?" asked Kordain.

"Over there," Gultan pointed back into the pitch blackness. "I think I saw metal. Thirty paces away."

They stood side by side, peering in the gloom, straining their ears. Nothing. Lightning flashed. Sprinting towards them was a man. Or perhaps a demon. Whatever he was, he was huge. Fifteen paces away. Black leather gleamed in the blast of light. His long black hair was plastered against his head. He held a monstrous sword over his shoulder. An unearthly battle cry ripped from his throat. It would not be heard in camp. The rain saw to that. Suddenly he was in the lantern's circle of light. Kordain raised his sword to block. Too slow. The massive sword arched through the air and bit deep. The blade's momentum crushed the young man to the ground. Gultan knew that she must warn the Clan. She turned and sprinted. The lights from the camp were only a hundred paces away. She was fast, she could make it. Gultan lengthened her strides. No looking back. That would slow her down.

"Attack! Attack!" She screamed.

Eighty paces.

"Attack! Attack!"

Something smashed into her right leg, driving it into her left. It was the flat of the huge sword's blade. She crumpled to the ground. The lantern flew out of her hand, shattered, and instantly died. Gultan spun herself over on the ground and thrust her sword upwards. She hoped to drive it into her foe. Instead the man's monstrous sword smashed into it and sent it flying out of her hand.

"I am Gretch the Hunter! No one escapes me. Scream as much as you want. They can not hear you behind their little walls. Even nature herself bends her will to me this night. You will not be spared. But if you answer quickly and truthfully you will die quickly. There will be no pain."

Gultan gaped wordlessly at the tall man with the raised sword before her.

"All I want to know is where is the box? I have not come to destroy your village. I simply want the box. Who has it? Which is his tent?" Gretch demanded.

"Box? What box?" Gultan asked in confusion.

"Do not trifle with me! You know what I mean! A small box of carved black wood."

Comprehension dawned - Alam's box. Thoughts raced through her mind. Gultan knew she was going to die no matter what, but she could stop the man from attacking the Clan by telling the truth. She could prevent him from harming her little girl. But doing so would throw the man at Alam and Tajar. They had left the Clan, but were still friends. Alas, she knew she had no choice.

"I have seen your box," she said steadily. She looked straight into Gretch's eyes. Forced her face to be calm.

"Well?" demanded Gretch.

"It is not here," Gultan stated.

"You lie!" shouted Gretch as he stomped on her stomach.

Gultan curled up and cried out in agony. Only through willpower born from the certainty of death was she able to recover her composure. She noticed Gretch glance quickly up. Yellow light was flickering on the metal studs of his armour. Lantern light. Gultan turned her head and saw three Clansmen hurrying towards them from the camp.

"Speak quickly or I will be forced to kill your friends," demanded Gretch.

"I speak the truth. It is gone. He who has it was banished from the Clan days ago before we left our previous camp."

"You lie!" roared Gretch, but Gultan could see doubt on his face.

"Look into my eyes!" commanded Gultan. "You will see that it is true!"

The yellow light was growing on Gretch. Voices could be heard. "Gultan! Kordain! Are you alright?"

Doubt turned to indecision in Gretch's face as he glance back and forth from Gultan to the approaching clansmen.

"Look at me!" shouted Gultan, locking eyes with Gretch. "It is the truth!"

"A name then! Tell me his name!"

"No," she said calmly.

"Tell me!"

"No."

"Tell me!!"

"No!"

Somewhere towards the camp an arrow was loosed. It passed harmlessly over Gretch's shoulder.

A smile formed on Gretch's face.

"I have met very few as brave in death as you." Another arrow passed by his side. "In honour of your memory I will keep my word and leave your village alone."

Gultan closed her eyes and pictured her baby girl as the large blade sliced down on her. Gretch was true to his word. The death was quick. There was hardly any pain.

Gretch turned and vanished into the darkness.

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-Y. V. Qualls