The Awakening (36 page)

Shanek scratched at his beard as he stared out over the Great Fastness. The itch was a part of him now; he didn’t feel right without it. The ever-present wind whipped his long black hair over his face. Annoyed, he pushed it back.

This burned wind!
he thought.
It always blows out here.
Of all the various things he’d had to put up with, this wretched wind was the worst.

Recently it was bringing with it the scents and tastes of volcanic ash. Another mountain had blown its guts out. That made six in the last two months. The range marking the northern edge of the Great Fastness glowed with the angry red of lava. Every night it tinged the sky, casting an eerie light over this most lonely of places.

‘Shanek!’ called Ejaj. ‘See anything?’

Shanek shook his head. ‘They’ve made it to the mountains by now. They’re gone.’

‘There’ll be more tomorrow.’

‘There’d better be,’ Shanek muttered. Even after months of slaughter, his hunger for more Skrinnies to kill was unquenched.

‘Leave it, Shanek,’ said Ananda. ‘Let’s make camp. That knot had enough to keep us busy for a week, just counting it all. So what if three got away?’

Shanek whipped around to fix the woman with a glare.

‘I know, I know,’ she said. “‘The monsters didn’t let any of mine escape, why should I?”’

She returned his glare. ‘Don’t you ever get tired of the same line?’

He shook his head and returned to his contemplation of the grassland. ‘Never,’ he muttered.

After the discovery of the massacre, Shanek’s memory went hazy. It was as if a portion of his life disappeared, leaving only flickering remnants that haunted his sleepless nights. He caught images of hunting down Skrinnies and slaughtering them to the last one, of long hunts deep into the grasslands, of seemingly endless pursuits across miles of flat plains, but mostly he remembered the sights, sounds and smells of hundreds of dead Skrin Tia’k.

He’d learned much: Skrin Tia’k tired quickly if pursued uphill; they were afraid of the bolas; they ate rarely, but voraciously; and his mysterious ability to hear and know them was somehow linked to the ground. When riding or even wearing boots, he could hear nothing. When barefoot, he knew where his enemy was and what they were doing.

His feet grew leathery and hard as he ran across the plains in pursuit of the ancient enemy of his people. At first, none of the others with him questioned his hunting; they seemed to accept his
need for vengeance. But as the days melted into weeks, then to months, they became reticent. The first to broach it was Ejaj.

‘Shanek,’ he said one night, ‘I think it is time we put aside just hunting Skrinnies. Don’t get me wrong,’ he added hastily at Shanek’s glare, ‘I enjoy killing the monsters as much as anyone else, but we are bandits, not a forward-scouting Fyrd for the Thane.’

Shanek continued to glare, silently challenging the older man. Ejaj was a leader and he knew what Shanek was doing.
So it comes to this,
Shanek thought.

Ejaj continued. ‘We are heading back south tomorrow, back to where the pickings are easier.’ He paused, looking at the rest of the troop for support. ‘And richer.’

Shanek, too, was a leader, and a better one than Ejaj. He knew what drove people like this ragtag bunch. ‘It’s money you want, is it?’ he said quietly in the tone his Leadership Tutor had drilled him in. He knew it was a tone people heard and heeded. ‘I’ll show you more money than you can carry.’

‘Skrinnies never carry anything valuable,’ Ejaj said. ‘Everyone knows it. That’s why we’ve never bothered hunting them before.’

Shanek grinned a cold, hard smile. ‘You’ve just never known where to look.’

Ananda snorted. ‘I’ve lived all my life out here and you say I don’t know where to look! What would you know?’

‘Give me tomorrow. If I don’t lead you to a rich take, we’ll all go south and take the easy road.’

Ejaj narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re good, Shanek, I’ll warrant, but you don’t know the Fastness like we do.’

‘How many have you lost since I joined you?’ asked Shanek.

‘No one,’ admitted Ejaj. ‘I said you’re good. The best tactical man I’ve ever met, but you still don’t know the Fastness or the Skrinnies like us.’

‘Is that a no, then?’ asked Shanek.

‘That’s a no, Shanek.’

‘Fine. I’ll go alone. Wait for me by the Weeping Outpost tomorrow night. I’ll join you there and show you what you’re missing.’

Dotted across the Great Fastness were hundreds of ruined keeps, castles and defensive outposts left over from the great wars. They provided shelter and haven for people like Ejaj’s band. The one Shanek referred to was little more than a tumble of stones, but a peculiarity of its structure meant it acted as a moisture trap for the winds. Every night as the air cooled, moisture trickled down the stones like tears, collecting in a small hollow.

‘It’s been good to know you, Shanek, but if you’re planning to hunt a knot alone, we’ll be travelling south, the day after tomorrow, without you.’

Shanek’s eyes hardened. ‘We’ll see.’

Later, when the sounds of contented snoring were all that broke the silence of the night, Shanek rolled out of his bed. The ground was quiet, nothing moved close by. He rested his hands lightly on the dirt, feeling the ancient pain of battle that still lingered.

Still not knowing what he did or how he did it, he made sure everyone was asleep, even, he noted
with annoyance, the sentry. On silent feet he padded out into the night. Knowing the exact location of every rock, root and dip meant that he could confidently run across this land even in total darkness.

He ran until he sensed the now familiar presence of a Skrin Tia’k knot. It was a hunting party carrying nothing. He ignored it and continued north.

His confidence was based on the fact that he had sensed many more knots than the ones he had hunted. So far he’d only been interested in warrior knots or hunting knots. The trade knots he’d left alone, but they were out here.

He found one just after dawn. It was not a large one, only four nestlings, but they carried a fortune in diamonds and beautifully carved ebony. They were travelling west and would come across his path within the hour. He could sense no hunters and they were careless. Shanek ‘watched’ them for a while. They were spread out, with a younger one lagging behind a bit. That would be his first target. He settled in to wait.

The sun was already hot by the time they arrived. He watched the first three pass him. They were unaware of Shanek’s presence.

The lagging Skrin Tia’k wandered along, completely ignorant. Shanek waited until it had passed and then stepped out. The distinctive sound of the bolas alerted it, but too late. Its head snapped cleanly off when the heavy metal ball smashed through the exoskeleton at the base of its neck.

The sounds alerted the others but Shanek was ready for them. They split up to find him; he hid.
Knowing exactly where they were and what they were doing enabled him to pick them off one by one. Each time the bolas sang its deadly song, he could feel the fear in the remaining Skrin Tia’k increase.

The last one left of the knot, the one carrying the largest bag of goods, decided to run from its hunter. It turned away from where Shanek lay in wait and fled northwards. Shanek stood, his bolas whirling above his head, and called out to it.

‘Hey, monster! Stand and fight, coward!’

The Skrin Tia’k slowed, then stopped and turned back to him. It raised itself on its rearmost legs and clicked at him. Shanek listened, aware that the Skrinnie believed that he could not understand it.

Beast,
it clicked,
I hear you. You hunt us and we die. But the time comes when we shall hunt you. You will not kill us then. We have taken your Guardian and your Weapon.

While it clicked, Shanek slowly moved closer until, just as the Skrinnie finished, he was in range. It lowered itself to the ground and Shanek released the bolas.

The weapon flew across the intervening space with a whistle and the cord caught the Skrinnie around the neck. With a squeal, the Skrin Tia’k clutched at the barbed cable but the metal balls spun around and smashed into its face. It clattered to the ground and lay still.

‘He’ll be here,’ Ananda said.

‘No, he won’t,’ said Raol. ‘He’s either long gone or Skrinnie food by now.’

Shanek listened to them as he lay behind the wall of the Weeping Outpost. It had been a hard run but he’d made it here before them. He was sure the selection of treasure he’d brought was enough to whet their appetite.

When they rounded the wall, he was leaning back counting diamonds.

Ejaj relinquished all semblance of command after that. Shanek became their leader and he drove them hard. They had no way of knowing it, but he was training them as a Fyrd. He taught them to use the bolas, he taught them battle strategies and he taught them field communications. At first they resisted, preferring their own tested ways of fighting, but after a few easy wins they took to Shanek’s ways with a passion.

Shanek was initially pleased with their willingness, but it faded as he realised that their passion was for the ease of victory, not the point of the wins. They simply enjoyed winning, they saw no purpose in their winning. Neither, if it came down to it, did he. Time had eased the burden of his guilt, and he hunted Skrin Tia’k because he could. They were a defeated enemy, defeated centuries ago, and his personal vengeance had lost its sweet flavour. Despite that, he
knew
, at a visceral level, that the Skrin Tia’k still posed a threat and that hunting them was
right
, somehow. It troubled him both that he knew and that he did not know how he knew. No matter that he had grown up with ritual torture and casual brutality, the simple hunting and slaughter of Skrinnies should not feel so right. All his training and his beliefs led him to reject living his life by
feelings. Feelings are unreliable, they change too quickly, they can be inflamed and lead to irrational actions, yet…He sighed. That was the problem: he was doing the right thing, he knew it, but how could this be right?

The sun was barely over the horizon and ice was forming on the ground. Shanek was standing watch, looking north into the wind screaming across the Fastness, feeling for the presence of any knots.

‘Even the monsters stay at home on days like this,’ he muttered.

‘That they do, Shanek,’ said Ananda.

He had been distantly aware of her presence but had dismissed it. She was no Skrin Tia’k. He grunted in response.

‘What do you see that we don’t, Shanek?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ he said.

‘We all know that’s not true,’ she said. ‘There’s something about you that’s odd.’

‘Thanks for that,’ he said wryly. He was aware of her attraction to him but chose to ignore it.

‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ she continued hesitantly. ‘It’s…you’re not like us. You’re…I don’t know…’

Shanek suddenly sensed something. Holding up his hand to stop Ananda speaking, he focused inwards.
Someone is coming. Not Skrin Tia’k, people. A large company of people. Coming from the south. He turned around to look. Nothing visible, yet.

‘Ananda, go and wake Ejaj and the rest. I think we’re going to have some company.’

She took one look at his face and ran.

Shanek focused on the approaching people. There were one hundred and nine horses, all bearing a rider. They were all armed but there was no malice in their approach. They were peaceful.

He listened.

I still think this is a bad idea, Maru.

I don’t care what you think; if these are half as good as the rumours, we’ll do well.

But if they aren’t?

Then we turn around and go home.

Ejaj isn’t known for being friendly.

It’s not Ejaj’s troop any more. It’s this new one, this Shanek. He’s supposed to be the brains of the outfit.

Where did you get your information, Maru? No one’s been out here for months.

Never you mind, Bartin. I hear things.

‘So do I, Maru,’ whispered Shanek. ‘And I want to know where you get your information too.’ He intensified his attention on the small, wiry man on the lead horse, the man named Maru.

He was fair-skinned with white-blond hair. A Tribesman! Shanek remembered all too clearly the last Tribesman, Tapash, whom he had killed. Did this one have tattoos too? Shanek could not see. Was he the only Tribesman? No, about a third of the company was from the northern reaches of Ettan.

Shanek probed deeper, seeking treachery.

There it is
, Shanek realised. A group within a group.

Ejaj jogged up. ‘You wanted to see me?’

‘There’s a company coming,’ Shanek said. ‘I think they want to join us.’

Ejaj nodded. ‘Good. The more men we have, the more Skrinnies we can hunt. The richer we all get.’

Shanek grunted in agreement. ‘I don’t think we want to trust them completely.’ He stared into the south. ‘Wake everyone up, let’s greet our visitors.’

When Maru and his company rode up to the ruined keep known as Mischa’s Outpost, they were greeted by a lone man standing about twenty paces away from the base of the keep.

‘Greetings,’ the man called. ‘You choose a cold morning to visit.’

‘We’re looking for Shanek,’ replied Maru.

‘Oh? Why is that?’

‘We’ve heard he’s making a lot of money and we like money.’ Maru turned to his men. ‘Don’t we, boys?’

The company behind him roared in agreement.

Shanek regarded Maru carefully. He was wrapped against the bitter wind, but his long bone-white hair was uncovered and blew freely, wreathing his head in an outlandish white halo. The man was a liar and a thief, but he was also very intelligent. A plotter and a schemer.

‘What tribe?’ Shanek asked abruptly.

If Maru was taken aback by the sudden change of subject he did not show it. ‘No tribe, not any more,’ he said. ‘Just a free man making his way in a violent world.’

‘For a man who has renounced his tribe you bring a lot of your old tribe with you,’ Shanek observed mildly.

Maru laughed. ‘I can’t help it if others feel the same way, can I?’

‘No, that’s true, Maru,’ agreed Shanek. ‘Be welcome at our fire, and may you find Purity.’

And so Shanek’s company went from twelve to one hundred and twenty-one. The rest of his troop poured out from their hiding places and greeted the new members. Shanek watched Maru carefully. The man was surprised that Shanek knew his name, as he was at the size of the troop he had just joined. The First Son of the Empire needed neither extensive training, years of practice nor mystical assistance to know the Tribesman was already thinking of taking over the operation.

Wait your turn, Maru,
thought Shanek.