Tyler's Story (Tales of Quelondain) (3 page)

Tyler took a small rock, this one bigger than the one
from the previous night, and threw it at John. It hit its mark and
John groaned, swatted at whatever had hit his chest, and rolled
over. Tyler repeated the process three more times before the older
Maj finally sat up drowsily.

“What’s going on?”

Tyler grinned. “You sleep like the dead. It’s a
miracle no one has killed you in your sleep.” He stood and went to
his pack and pulled out the things he would need for breakfast.
“We’ll have something to eat and then we’ll do a bit of
sparring.”

John visibly paled and Tyler laughed.

“I’m not going to try to kill you; I’m going to show
you how to not be killed.” He proceeded to make a new fire, put
some meat over it, and warmed the first fire that was still drying
the strips he had cut the night before. He smiled. “It will also
help you with your hunting so I won’t feel bad when we part
ways.”

John stood and stretched. “Alright.” Though his
answer was a positive one, his face was still pale and Tyler
noticed the nervous way he bit his lip. It made him wonder what had
happened to his new friend the last time the man had tried sparring
with someone.

“How much training have you had?”

John shook his head.

“None?”

John shrugged.

“By the moons, John, you can’t be serious.” Tyler
shook his head in disbelief.

John ran a hand through his blond hair. “My dad
passed when I was young and my mum was ill.”

“It was just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

“How did you eat?”

“The neighbours used to bring us meat whenever they
could.”

“So you never hunted?”

“I couldn’t!” John’s grey eyes darkened with anger.
“She was bedridden. I couldn’t just leave her! The instant I would
leave the house she would scream. She couldn’t handle being left
alone!” He stalked off in the direction of the lake. Tyler blinked
and watched him walk away.

So, John was capable of emotions that surpassed fear
and cowardice. He finished getting breakfast put together, letting
his new acquaintance work through whatever feelings he was dealing
with.

An hour later, John still hadn’t returned and Tyler
started to wonder if something had happened. He made his way toward
the lake. He found the elder Maj sitting on a fallen log, staring
at the water.

John continued to look straight ahead as Tyler sat
beside him.

“She died a week before Rainen’s announcement that we
were going to war.”

Tyler glanced sideways at him then turned back to the
calm waters of the lake. He ran a hand through his dark brown
hair.

“I’m sorry.”

John stayed silent.

“No, really, John, I am. I lost my brother during the
war.”

John relaxed. “Was he older?”

Tyler shook his head. “We were twins.”

“I’m sorry.”

The two of them gazed at the water and watched as a
dark grey bird swooped down and plucked a fish from the shallow
waters. It turned its red eyes on the men then flew over them
toward its nest. The breeze blew through the trees and over the
lake, bringing the smell of rain to their noses.

Tyler looked at the sky. “Here’s hoping that rain
stays away a few more days. I’d hate for the meat to get wet.”

John’s stomach growled at the mention of food.

“There’s some breakfast left.”

John glanced at Tyler, his grey eyes meeting the
other’s brown ones. “Why are you insisting on being nice? Most
people would have chased me off or simply let the buck kill
me.”

Tyler stood. “Now, why in the world would I have let
the buck kill you?”

John shrugged and the quick glimpse of the stronger,
angry Maj reverted back to the scared one.

They walked in silence back toward the campsite. A
grunt caught his attention and Tyler put an arm out, stopping John
in his tracks.

“Get down!” He crouched low and pulled the older man
down to make sure no one saw them.

“What are you going to do?” John’s whisper was high
pitched and Tyler cringed, hoping the sound hadn’t carried to two
tlarrisons ransacking the campsite. The slimy long haired animals
glanced up before resuming their consumption of the meat that hung
over the fire. Tyler tried to think back to the picture his Aunt
Hayden had drawn for him after her first sighting of a tlarrison.
What had she called the beast it reminded her of? He glanced back
to the six foot tall, four legged creatures. They were covered in
long dark brown hair which was always thick with an awful smelling
goop, their pointy ears perked toward their meal which they were
picking off of the stand with their trunks. Mammoths! That was what
she’d called them, though she’d been sure that her mammoths had
been herbivores and much bigger. Tlarrisons definitely were not
plant eaters and weren’t scared to take down live prey should it
present itself to them. He glanced at John just as one of them
tried to spear the other with its tusks.

“What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything. I’m
going to wait until they’re done and hope they decide to leave once
they are.”

“You took down the buck.”

Tyler frowned but didn’t take his eyes off of the
beasts. “Bucks don’t try to eat you.” His head snapped to the right
as a woman made her way into the clearing.

“Run! Run fast!” Tyler yelled to her and sprinted
towards the closest tlarrison as it started to lope in her
direction. He jumped forward and shifted in midair, throwing his
shoulder and all of his weight into the beast’s side. He had a
quick thought that the goo was going to take ages to clean off
before he found himself rolling on the ground, the tlarrison
rolling along beside him. He chanced a glance in the woman’s
direction and saw her disappear into the woods. He shifted back and
pushed up from the ground, hissing in pain as his right palm landed
in the embers of the fire. The tlarrison’s trunk slammed into him
as he reached for his dagger. The knife flew out of his grip with
the impact and he swore under his breath. He fell onto his back
near part of the drying stand that had been broken and scattered by
the beasts.

His breath left his body in a rush and he gasped,
trying to suck in some much needed air.

“Tyler! It’s coming back!”

He looked up in time to see John throw his dagger at
the tlarrison. The blade stuck itself in the mounds of slimy hair
but didn’t seem to faze the animal. John shifted and sprinted away
from the irritated beast.

Tyler scrambled backwards frantically, trying to see
his dagger in the tall grass. His burnt hand fell on a piece of the
stand and the pain shot up his arm. The animal stomped in his
direction, its dark, beady eyes focused on the small form trying to
get away from it.

Tyler resisted the impulse to let go of the stick as
his hand screamed in pain and brought it up just as the beast fell
upon him. It bellowed and collapsed on top of him. He felt the air
rush out of his lungs once again. He pushed and squirmed, trying to
get out from under the slimy mess that pinned him to the ground.
The smell of rotten meat or eggs filled his nostrils and he gagged,
his efforts to get to his feet reenergized by the need to get away
from the disgusting smell and feel of the tlarrison.

With a final grunt, he pushed himself to his feet,
grabbing another of the sticks as he ran toward the other
beast.

Tyler screamed, trying to get the tlarrison’s
attention when it became obvious it was going to go after the
woman. When it became obvious he wasn’t having the desired effect,
he dropped the stick and shifted into his wolf in an attempt to
reach it before it caught up to her. He’d almost gotten to it when
it turned suddenly in his direction. It charged, its tusks aimed at
him. He skidded to a stop and shifted back so he could jump
backwards and away from the angry beast.

In the back of his mind, he could hear his father and
uncle yelling instructions at him and Trent during sparring
lessons. “Shift! Jump Back! Shift! Duck and dodge!” He did just
that and managed to scramble away just as the tusks speared the air
where he’d just been.

“Tyler! Dagger!”

John’s shout was punctuated by the sound of his
dagger implanting itself into the dirt not too far from where he
was now standing. His chest heaved with the effort to breathe from
the exertion. He ran his arm across his face to wipe the sweat out
of his eyes.

The tlarrison turned and faced him. Tyler bent
slowly, pulling the dagger out of the ground. The forest was quiet
as the two of them stared at each other. The moment dragged on and
Tyler was starting to think he was going to have to make the first
move when the slimy creature snorted and trotted off in the
direction of the Wedelven Woods.

He fell to his knees before sitting down, his knees
up, his head on them, John’s dagger still in his hand. He heard
John jog in his direction. He raised his head to look at him and
grimaced as the goo on his face pulled with the effort to stay
attached to his knee. He ran a hand through his hair and smirked as
he got the same result.

“Tyler! Are you alright?” John moved to help him up
and wrinkled his nose at the smell.

Tyler grinned. “You don’t want to touch me right now.
I feel like I’m covered in raw eggs and I smell like they’d been
left to rot before I was doused in them.” He noticed John eyeing
the way he was hold his hand to his chest. “I fell into the fire
when I tackled the first one.” He looked at his palm and cringed at
the blisters that were appearing then glanced at the woods where
the woman had disappeared. “Did you know her?”

“Who?”

Tyler frowned. “The woman that walked into the
clearing.”

“I didn’t see anyone.” John looked into the woods.
“I’ll go have a look. You go get that hand cleaned.”

Tyler stood slowly, testing all of his limbs to make
sure everything was still in working order before walking to his
pack. He wiped his good hand on his pants, smirked, and went
through the motion again on a patch of grass. He picked up his
pack, careful not to get any goo on it, and walked away.

By the moons, had that just happened? His aching
shoulder and throbbing hand along with the slime and smell told him
that yes, it had. His eyes stung from the sweat and goop that had
leaked into them and he blinked. He grunted. Trent would have loved
to have been here for this. He could hear his brother’s laugh and
the comment he would have made about all the slime. Of course, he
would have been just as goopy and smelly and the two of them would
have been walking to the lake together, razzing one another about
how they’d taken turns saving each other.

Tyler blinked again and this time tears streaked down
his cheeks. He took a deep breath, wiped his arm over his face and
smirked at the goop the motion left on his nose.

Once on the beach, he knelt and carefully removed the
soap from his pack. He glanced down at his clothes and only
bothered pulling off his boots before walking into the cold lake.
He ducked under the water, scrubbing the bar of soap into his hair,
over his tunic and pants, and came up sputtering. He struggled to
strip off the clothing and scrubbed it again, making sure to get
all of the goo off of them. He ran his hand through his hair to see
if he’d gotten all of it out then washed again just to be sure. The
pain in his burnt hand dulled slightly in the cool water. The rest
of his body, however, was not as keen on the chill and he gathered
his clothes and soap before making his way back to shore.

Tyler spread the wet clothes on a rock and pulled on
a clean pair of dark brown pants. He searched in his pack and found
the root he was looking for. The bitter taste flooded his mouth as
he bit off a piece and chewed as quickly as he could. He spit the
mush into his hand, pulled a strip of cloth out of the pack and
wrapped his hand so the burnt area was covered then used his teeth
and free hand to tie it. Drops of water dripped from his shaggy
dark brown hair onto the freshly wrapped hand and he shook his head
like a dog. He found a dark green tunic and pulled it over his
head.

“There,” he said to himself. He made his way back to
camp. He paused and watched John cleaning the mess the tlarrisons
had made.

He smiled and nodded his friend. “John, my thanks go
to you.”

John frowned. “Me?”

“If you hadn’t distracted him I never would have had
time to get the stick into position to spear it like that. That was
a great throw.” He raised an eyebrow at his friend, wondering how a
man who couldn’t fight or hunt could throw a dagger with such
accuracy.

John dropped his grey eyes to the ground. “I used to
get bored at home. Throwing a dagger is the only thing I can
do.”

Tyler grinned and gave him a friendly slap to the
back. “Well, I’m glad.”

John smiled shyly. “Do you think it will be back?” He
glanced around at the woods around them.

“It knows there’s food here now, so the chances are
good. We’ll have to move on.”

“Are we going to cut up the one you killed like we
did with the buck?”

Tyler grimaced and stared at the slimy beast lying in
the middle of their camp. “No likely. Didn’t you smell that thing?
I’m not getting any closer to it than I have to. We can hunt
tomorrow when we make camp again.”

John nodded. “I didn’t find the girl, by the way. I
didn’t find a trace of anyone.”

Tyler frowned. “That’s odd. Well, whoever she is, if
she wants anything, she’s knows we’re in the area now.” He noticed
John giving him a look. “What?”

“I just… you’re talking as if I’m coming along.”

Tyler groaned to himself. He was, wasn’t he? “I
suppose that’s if you want to tag along.” He couldn’t very well
just leave John to his own devises, now could he? It was a miracle
the man hadn’t starved to death yet and now with tlarrisons in the
area…