The Hunter (17 page)

Many of the buildings bore carved runes above their doors, all of them different and indecipherable to Braldt, and while many
of the homes were unadorned, an equal number were embellished with carved designs of leaves and flowers that curled around
doors and windows or up the sides of blank walls in a cheerful show of exuberance unknown to the dour Duroni.

There were several large buildings in the village, although none as large as the Temple of the Moon or the various schools
or the Council chambers of his own city. Braldt found himself wondering at the governing structure of the karks, no, the Madrelli.
Considering that they owed them their lives, he would do well to change his thinking, for they were anything but the simple
beasts he had thought them to be. That thought jogged his memory and he slipped his hand into his robe and felt Beast stir.
Good. He curled his hand around the small one and stroked him gently to let him know that all was well. Beast settled quietly
beneath his hand.

Uba Mintch led them over a bridge that was built entirely of worked stone and arched over the ugly red flow. Braldt looked
down and wondered at the strange color that fouled the water, for never had he seen such a thing before; water was clear or
blue or sometimes brown, but never this dark, ugly shade of red.

The old one stepped off the bridge and led them to one of the largest homes, unusual in that it was twice the size of any
other as well as a full two stories in height. It was built entirely of the shining, black stone and its roof was shingled
with grey stone tiles. The building itself was unadorned with the single exception of a rune inscribed above the lintel, while
two immense silverwoods of great age flanked the double doorway and herbs and flowers had been planted in neat borders.

Uba Mintch paused before the doorstep, a large block of black stone, which had been worn smooth in the middle from the tread
of many feet. He looked up at the inscription and touched it gently with the end of his staff before turning to face the others.
“This is my home. You are welcome under my roof and safe from harm, so far as we are able to protect you.”

Braldt nodded to the old one to show his appreciation. Keri emulated his move, bowing more deeply, and after a moment Carn
did so as well, although his obeisance was stiff and almost rude in its brevity.

“Please, sir, what do the runes say?” Keri asked hesitantly.

The old one looked up, his face relaxing in a smile, and he turned to Keri. “It says, ‘Protect this house from evil.’ Come,
enter, we have much to speak of.” And with a last look at the sky above, they entered the home of the Madrelli.

The building was completely different from those of the Duroni inside as well as out. Duroni homes consisted of a single large,
great room where most family activity took place. Smaller rooms were set aside for individual sleeping places, but these were
used for little else and generally held no more than a sleeping mat and a few items of a personal nature.

Madrelli dwellings, if this one could be taken as an example, allotted rooms to each and every member of the household and
contained a raised sleeping place piled high with thick, woven coverlets, several strangely shaped chairs, which were much
too large for the smaller Duroni, and other pieces of wooden furniture whose meaning was not immediately apparent. Walls were
adorned with handworked items that had no function except to please the eye and the stone floors were warmed by hand-woven
mats, brightly colored with intricate designs.

Each of them was shown to a room that they were told was theirs for as long as they remained under Uba Mintch’s roof. A serving
girl, obviously young and more curious than afraid, was instructed to tend to their needs.

Uba Mintch took his leave of them, saying only that they were to rest. It was easy to see that it was Uba Mintch who was tired
and needed to refresh himself, but no one voiced an objection, not even Carn.

“If you will join me later, after the sun has passed beneath the twin peaks, we will eat and talk of the things that must
be said. Until then I bid you peace.” He raised his hand in a benediction and then shuffled slowly down the corridor to his
own quarters.

Sytha Trubal showed no sign of wanting to linger and she too hurried after the old man with only a single glance
at Braldt, a glance filled with meaning that he did not understand.

Carn waited until both Sytha and Uba Mintch had gone and then turned to Braldt with a wide grin on his face. “Well, what happened
between you two, eh? Must have been something special to get us fixed up this good!”

“Carn!” Keri’s voice was sharp with disapproval and she looked at Braldt with hurt in her eyes as though waiting for him to
deny Carn’s words.

“Don’t be stupid, Carn. Nothing happened. What do you think? No, don’t tell me; do not judge me by your own lack of morals.”

“Whatever you say, brother,” Carn said in a tone that indicated his disbelief. “When do we leave? Now or later?”

“We do not leave at all. This woman has saved our lives at a considerable risk to her own. It is only fair that we stay and
talk, conduct ourselves honorably. There is much to be learned here, many questions that need to be answered. We will not
betray them and return their offer of protection with duplicity.”

“What are you talking about, Braldt? These aren’t people, we don’t owe them anything, they’re no better than animals!”

Braldt stared at Carn coldly, then turned on his heel and entered the room that had been assigned to him. Hand on the door
frame, he turned and spoke in a voice devoid of emotion, his blue eyes blazing in anger. “They have given us their word in
honor, a word that I do not intend to betray, and animal or no, one of them has chosen me as mate. Do not cross me, Carn,
or you will live only long enough to regret it.”

The serving maid entered the room shortly after his exchange with Carn, carrying a bowl of hot, steaming water and several
thick towels draped over her arm. She would not look him in the eye but burst into giggles when he thanked her and rushed
from the room, hand cupped over her mouth. Braldt could all but imagine the girl regaling a confidant with the story of her
terrifying encounter with the horrible two-foot. Only in the retelling, the maid would no doubt
have made some brave comment before leaving. He grinned at the thought for it appeared that young maids were the same everywhere.

Braldt took advantage of the hot water and a bar of fragrant floral-scented soap and cleansed himself gladly, luxuriating
in the thick, fluffy towel. When his toilet was complete, he investigated the room with interest, taking note of the thick
rug that covered the stone floor and the intricate colorful pattern that was woven throughout. Drapes of similar construction
hung on either side of the double windows, brightening the room with their colors. Dominating the room was a large bed that
stood several feet off the floor and was piled with multiple layers of soft, thick mattresses. It was four times as wide as
a Duroni sleeping mat and a good deal shorter. Braldt placed Beast on the soft surface and the pup groaned and curled into
a tight ball. Braldt could find no sign of a wound and it would seem that Beast had escaped serious injury.

Braldt sat down beside the pup and immediately sank like a stone in quicksand with the thick comforters wedging him on either
side. Beast tumbled into his lap and opening his eyes he snarled at Braldt, leaped nimbly off the bed, and stalked away to
the far side of the room. Braldt struggled to extricate himself, wondering how anyone could sleep in such a creation and knowing
that he would not.

Beast had settled into one of several strange basketlike objects that dotted the room. Braldt studied them with a grimace,
assuming that they were chairs, yet knowing that they would never accommodate his body.

He was studiously avoiding the topic that screamed for his attention, the supposed mating with Sytha Trubal. He was grateful
to her for she had undoubtedly saved their lives, but such a thing was impossible. He settled on a broad stone shelf under
the window and pondered the problem, trying to find a solution that would permit them to leave with their lives without offending
Sytha Trubal or arousing the anger of the tribe.

His thoughts were interrupted by the entry of Keri and
Carn, Carn in the lead, flinging the door wide and entering without a knock or a salutation.

“All right, so they live in houses and sleep on beds and they talk. Someone else probably built the stuff and they killed
‘em and took over. The gods only know how they learned to talk, but it doesn’t make any difference, they’re still animals.
We don’t owe them anything, Braldt. We’ve got more important things to do, or have you forgotten Auslic and what we promised
the priests?”

“Don’t be a fool, Carn, I’ve forgotten nothing!” Braldt snapped. “I know where my duty lies!”

“Then do it!” Carn replied hotly, closing the distance between them.

“Stop this, it is you who are acting like animals rather than people,” Keri cried angrily as she stepped between the two men.
“You are both right and there is a way to settle this properly if we but think on it calmly, like civilized people!

“You go sit down there,” she said to Carn, pushing him in the direction of the bed, which he avoided, sinking cross-legged
to the floor, evidently having had a similar experience with his own bed. “You go over there,” she said to Braldt, directing
him toward one of the basket chairs, while she herself settled on the window ledge.

“Now,” she said, “let’s talk.” And so they did until the sun had disappeared behind the twin peaks and the room had become
grey with dim twilight, but despite their efforts, they had reached no agreement by the time the giggling maid knocked on
the door and summoned them to speak with Uba Mintch.

The halls were glowing with a soft light that emanated from steady flames enclosed in transparent globes affixed to the walls.
Braldt stared at them in wonder and would have stopped to study them, but was given no opportunity to do so as the maid ushered
them down the long hall that opened onto a large room that took up the entire end of the building. At the last moment, Beast
had roused from his slumbers and now trotted at Braldt’s heels.

Uba Mintch was settled in one of the basket chairs, the
hard surface cushioned by a thick comforter. It fit the shape of his body quite nicely. Across from him, seated in a second
chair, was Sytha Trubal who held a smaller version of herself on her lap.

Once they were seated in the same uncomfortable chairs, the maid carried in a tray laden with steaming mugs that she offered
to them one at a time, giggling all the while.

Uba Mintch waited until she had left the room before he spoke. “Your health and safekeeping,” he murmured as he raised his
mug in a solemn toast. They echoed his words with a Duroni toast of their own and then sipped at the steaming brew that was
sharply sour on their tongues and somewhat bitter although it warmed their bellies and left a pleasant aftertaste.

“Your presence here among us at this time presents us with somewhat of a dilemma,” began Uba Mintch.

“We will gladly take our leave,” said Carn, seizing the opportunity to make his wishes known.

“Would that it were so easy,” the old one said with a sigh. “Had you not come in such a dramatic manner, there might have
been some choice, but arriving as you did, you have left us few alternatives. The wife of my son was forced to claim your
friend as a mate and that is not a thing that is done lightly among the Madrelli. I do not know the customs of your people,
but Sytha Trubal is our regent, and as her chosen mate, you have now become leader of the tribe. You can scarcely imagine
that your presence here will be lightly marked.”

“I thank you for this honor, Sytha Trubal, and even more I thank you for the gift of our lives,” Braldt said quickly, cutting
Carn off before he could speak. “I realize the sacrifice that you have made in order to save us, but you must know that I
cannot accept this honor. Your people will never accept me and it would not be right for me to hold a position of such great
responsibility. A tribe should be ruled by one of its own.”

Sytha Trubal raised her eyes to meet his own and in them he could read her confusion as well as her unhappiness.

“But what can we do… I—I do not even know what
you are named,” and as the tears gathered and threatened to spill, she looked down and busied herself with the active arm-
and leg-waving figure of her daughter.

“I am Braldt, the Hunter, and this one here is my brother, Carn the Stalker, and my sister, Keri, the mischief maker.”

Keri shot Braldt a look that he could not decipher and, rising from her chair, crouched beside Sytha and placed her hand hesitantly
on Sytha’s arm. The two women gazed at each other and a look passed between them that spoke of many things, womanly things
that somehow transcended their different races. Without speaking, Sytha picked up the wriggling bundle and handed her to Keri
who cradled her expertly, cooing gently and making sounds understandable to infants of any nature. Beast suddenly appeared
at her side, studying the infant with interest, his bright eyes watching closely.

“We are puzzled, Uba Mintch,” Braldt began in a respectful tone. “You are not what we had imagined you to be. How is it that
we have remained ignorant of your true nature. Why is it that we have no knowledge of the fact that you have speech, a cultured
way of life equal to our own?”

“Have you given us any opportunity for speech?” Uba Mintch asked softly. “Our encounters are few but violent. Whenever those
of your kind meet ours, there is no time for words. The Duroni hunt and trap and kill us like animals for sport or merely
for our pelts. There is no thought of speech.”

Braldt could only admit that such was indeed the case, but before he could argue the point further, Carn spoke out.

“Look, you can put all the blame on us if it makes you feel better, but you know as well as I do that the violence is not
all on our side. What about all the times that your people have attacked the Duroni without warning or reason. What about
the herdsman who was tortured and burned to death not two days’ march from here. What did he do to deserve that kind of death
other than try to protect his herd? Your people are no better than wild animals and the fact that
you live in houses and sleep in beds and talk doesn’t change that at all!”