2. Nine Years
.o0o.
Shouts and the clash of weapons ripped the smoke-filled air, the halla's frightened bugling adding an eerie descant to the chaos of the human raiders' attack.
"Here! In here!" Tamlen beckoned urgently from under an aravel. Akela gauged the distance, then charged across the open space to slide feet-first beneath the wagon. Spitting dust, he squirmed further in with Tamlen's assistance until he lay prone next to his friend.
"They fired Odran's aravel," Akela gasped. "He was still in it. Got him out, but, but his shirt, his hair was burning." A hoarse bellow sounded nearby and they both flinched.
"The ones that came up lakeside, Junar and the other scouts filled them full of arrows, but the hairy monsters had already smashed all the racks and nets and—" Tamlen broke off, eyes widening, and clutched Akela's arm urgently. "Akela, have you seen my mother?"
"I—no. I saw some of your cousins with Ashalle safe with the Keeper, and then I got away to find you." Akela answered with rising alarm. "Where'd you see her last?"
"She went off this morning down to the little clearing that's all over honeysuckle to do some weaving. Alone!" Tamlen moaned. "Oh, Mythal, she's alone! Akela, we have to get her now!"
Akela was already starting to move. "Let's g—" They froze as the aravel shook under a violent impact and a hunter's body hit the ground. Not two feet away, Fomhar returned their horrified gaze, gargling hideously around the crossbow bolt imbedded in his throat before going still. A bloody froth drooled over the vallaslin he had received little more than a fortnight past.
"Come on, come on, come on!" Tamlen yanked at Akela's sleeve. They wriggled backwards and emerged to crouch in the lee of a woodpile, feeling exposed and determined.
"It's a straight run across past the crooked oak."
"But it's better cover if we cut right to the bales there, and then circle the Hahren's aravel." Akela gestured, and at Tamlen's mulish expression added, "Crossbows?" The other boy swallowed and nodded.
"Ready?" Tamlen pulled out his knife.
Akela patted his own empty belt in quick dismay, glanced about and seized the hand axe from the nearby wood block. "Ready."
"Now!" Tamlen darted out, Akela close on his heels. They skidded to a halt behind the canvas bales and, with a gulping pause for breath, fled past Paivel's aravel and down the trail. There seemed to be no indication they'd been noticed. Impossible to tell if that was a good sign or bad, although they prayed for the former.
The honeysuckle's sweet fragrance wafted toward them as they approached the dell, intensifying when the towering human brushed the foliage as he exited, adjusting his trews. Grinning, he reached for the little blond elfling that charged him, screaming inarticulately.
Tamlen slashed at him, and the brute roared, clutching the deep gash on his hand while Tamlen ducked around him to sprint into the clearing.
"You knife-eared little piece of shit!"
He grabbed for his blade and had half-turned to follow when Akela swung the hand-axe with all his strength directly into the man's groin.
The human folded with a retching screech, and Akela leaped onto his neck to drive his head into the ground.
"Mamae? Are you all—mamae? Mamae! Mamae!"
The agony in his best friend's voice sliced through his gut, and with a snarl Akela seized a rock and smashed it into the shem's temple. That for Tamlen's mamae.
And again for Fomhar.
And again for Odran.
And again for scaring Ashalle and for breaking our homes and ALways HURTing and KILLing and for EVery SINgle TEAR beCAUSE of YOU you STINKing HAIRy SHEM—
Master Ilen had to pry the rock from Akela's grip, drawing the boy away from the pulp of brain and bone chips with fierce words of praise before passing him to Ashalle, who checked frantically to be sure none of the splattered blood was his own before enfolding him tightly in her arms. He stood rigid and trembling in her embrace for long moments; not until he saw the weeping Tamlen being ushered away by his family did the little boy begin to cry in turn.
.