Chapter 4
"The path of Mandalore is paved with conflict."
Out on the open plain, my voice carried much farther than the girl behind me. It bounced along the top of the shoulder-high grass, carried by the breeze to thin and windswept trees. The dirt under our feet had been tramped clear of grass by countless others making this same journey.
"It is a road made of struggle, of violence. Of sacrifice. You will pit your body, your mind, your will against ever-greater foes, and through that crucible you will forge yourself into something greater."
Behind me, Mara's spear beat a cadence against her back with every step. I'd chosen my pace carefully, forcing her to move just barely too fast to be entirely comfortable. She didn't complain at the pace, nor at the mid-day sun beating down on her.
I turned to look at her without breaking stride.
"There is nothing that embodies this ideal so purely as the hunt. It is a battle of wits, patience, skill, and will. Your abilities pressed against your enemy's with only one victor." I paused for a beat, letting the sound of the wind rustling through the grass fill the silence. "It will push you to your enemy's limits."
"The enemy's limits?" Mara cocked an eyebrow. "Don't you mean my limits?"
"No." I gave her a direct look. "You cannot be pressed further than your enemy can go. And your enemy will not stop at yours. You will be pushed exactly as far as your enemy is capable."
Mara frowned.
"That's why there is no honor in a weak opponent?"
"An enemy that can't reach your limits is not an enemy. It is an obstacle." I nodded at her. "It requires no risk, no sacrifice, to face them. And without sacrifice-"
"There is no value," Mara finished. She made an agreeable sound. "I understand. What about the other way? If I find an enemy whose limits I can't reach?"
"Then you will die with honor." Mara sucked in a surprised breath. I nodded, lips drawn in a grim line.
"That is why we hunt. That we may hone ourselves and, with luck, never face such a foe." I slowed enough to put a hand on her arm. Her frown faded slightly. "Peace. It is time to begin honing your edge."
At the same time, the dirt under my feet began to soften, heralding our arrival at a small pond. A couple of trees cast swaying shadows across the area, while grass ran right up to the soupy mud that marked the water's edge. With only a cursory glance I could see recent traces from several animals.
"This will do." I lifted a hand, stopping Mara at my side. I turned to her once more. "We are here for a reason. Can you tell me why?"
"Water." There was no hesitation in her answer. "Animals have to drink too, so water is the best way to find them."
I gave her a look. She shrugged and grimaced.
"Dad taught me a bit, before..."
"Good," I said when she trailed off. I waved a hand at the scene before us. "Tell me, what do you see?"
She paused and carefully studied the oasis before answering.
"Two trees, tall grass. Um, that rock over there would be good cover?" She trailed off uncertainly and looked at me. I stared back. She looked away.
"Um... Oh! Tracks!" She pointed at shore, and the footprints that had yet to fade from the mud. When she looked at me, I nodded.
"How many animals?"
"Uh..." She bit her lip and stared back at the water's edge. I waited in silence for almost a minute. Finally, she blew out a heavy breath and sagged. "I'm not sure."
"There is no shame in ignorance," I said. "You will learn. I ask so I know what I must teach."
"Right, okay." Mara shook herself. "So how many animals are there?"
"At least six." With my spear, I pointed at the nearest set, a small cluster of hoof prints. "These are from a small herd of iriaz, the local equivalent of deer. There were at least three of them."
Her brow furrowed.
"How can you tell that?"
"The shape." I took a step forward and turned around. My own footprints were clear and sharp in the mud. I traced the edge of of it with my spear.
"The edges of this are crisp, the lines sharp. Do you see?" Mara squatted down and, after examining the footprints for a long moment, nodded. "That means it is fresh. As time passes, gravity warps the edges, the wind strips it of strength. They soften and fade."
I turned back to the iriaz prints and traced my spear along one.
"The edges of these are curled, blunt. They are a few hours old at least." I pointed to the next. "But they are all in a similar state of decay. None of these are more than an hour apart."
"And they're herd animals, so it must have been a group of them," Mara said. She smiled at me.
I nodded.
"Yes." I pointed to several other prints in turn. "These prints are different sizes. They can't all be from the same animal."
She hummed and nodded.
I moved carefully to the other set of tracks, a couple of thick depressions in the mud right at the water's edge. Mara followed, doing her best to avoid disturbing the other tracks.
"This is from an indaraz, a large, solitary herbivore. They are docile creatures, but can prove deadly when provoked." I gestured at the holes. "These are from its manipulators, small arms below its head it uses to pull leaves off of trees. They were pressed into the mud when it went to drink."
Mara looked from the depressions, either of which was wider than she was, to me.
"How big is this thing supposed to be?"
I pointed at one of the trees a bit further down. Half of it, the half pointing toward the water, has been scraped down to the bark, empty branches hanging twisted and broken, from the base to nearly four meters off the ground.
She blinked.
"That's big."
I grunted an agreement.
"There are other tracks here," I said to bring her back on track. I pointed to the handful of remaining signs of animal life, and spent a moment explaining each one.
Mara absorbed it all with the same attentive focus she'd shown with everything else I'd taught her.
By the time I was done, the sun had reached its zenith and it was time to move on.
"So what now?" Mara asked when I fell silent.
"This is your hunt," I told Mara. I swept a hand around the oasis. "Choose your prey."
She frowned at me.
"Aren't you supposed to do that?"
"This is your hunt," I said. "I am a guide and teacher, nothing more. You must hunt, or the olar'oya has no meaning."
Mara sighed and gave me annoyed look.
I returned it as evenly as I could.
She sighed and turned back to the different tracks, bending down to examine them carefully.
"Well... the iriaz and indaraz, was it?" She glanced at me. I nodded. "The indaraz are the freshest tracks. I think."
I made an agreeable noise. She took it as an encouraging sign.
"So those would be the easiest to catch up to, so I'd want to go after one of them." She glanced between the two sets of tracks, then back to me. I nodded again. After a moment's hesitation, she continued. "How would I take down either of them?"
"The iriaz are skittish, you would have to sneak up on one and separate it from its herd. It will try to run. You must chase it, pursue until its stamina has been exhausted and end it. It will be long and tiring, and a worthy beast for your first hunt.
"Indaraz are different beasts. Their size makes them docile, they will not flee your approach, but that is not without good reason. They are large and when roused, can be quite fierce." I paused for a moment and gave her a considering look. "Their leg joints are weak, however, and your spear would allow you to bleed it from a distance. It will be difficult, but should be within your means, and it will reward you with meat enough for the whole of olar'skraan."
Mara took in my words with her usual steady focus and stood in quiet thought for several seconds.
"We're going for the indaraz," she said at last. She gave me a challenging stare, daring me to contradict her.
I gestured for her to lead the way. She had the attitude of a Mandalorian, if nothing else.
She nodded at me and glanced around. I could almost feel her attention as it moved from the holes near the water to the enormous footprints and then over to the stripped tree. She knelt down and examined the footprints carefully, then stood up with another nod.
"This way." She led me, correctly, past the tree and back out into the grasslands. It didn't take long before we were forced to slow, however.
The indaraz's trail was harder to follow here, captured in broken blades of grass and tough earth, rather than mud. More than once, we were forced to backtrack and pick up the trail anew.
Each time, once we'd returned to the tracks, I stepped in and explained what she'd missed, showed her how to look. She was as attentive as always, patiently absorbing the lessons and trying to put them to immediate use. It didn't always work, but the effort was genuine and she improved dramatically over the course of the next couple of hours.
Which is when the plains gave way to stone.
Enormous rocks, worn flat by wind and rain, slid a few centimeters out of the ground in the middle of the grasslands, forming a long plateau of open ground. The grass grew out between them in winding rivers of grain, the largest of which was nearly four meters across. All the way off to one side of it, a large, rocky bluff rose out of the grass, likely the original source for most of the stone.
Mara paused at the edge of stone and frowned. She followed the trail of the indaraz and stepped up onto the nearest piece of stone. She began to turn around and examine the stone carefully, trying to divine any sign of the beast.
I joined her and cast my own eye around. There was no trace of the indaraz that I could see nearby, though some of the grass a few rocks over suggested it might have passed that way. I was confident she wasn't going to find the trail again any time soon. I debated with myself the best way to handle it, but the decision was not a difficult one. By the time she'd straightened up, a defeated frown already on her lips, I had a plan.
"Peace," I said. One foot tapped against the rock. "The terrain is working against you. There's little here to leave a trail in. It's not a failure to lose track of it."
"I guess. It's just..." Mara's scowl said more than words could. "I don't want to lose it."
"You won't." I approached her, opening myself to the universe in the same motion. "For you are not limited to the physical trail."
She blinked, confusion writ large on her face, until surprise, recognition, and anticipation replaced it.
"You mean..."
I nodded.
"You are more than simple flesh. It is time you learned what that means." I sat down on the stone and gestured. "Sit."
In moments, she was sitting cross-legged before me, an excited grin on her face.
"To be Mandalorian is to be both Hunter, and Prey. That is a truth all Mandalorians must recognize." I nodded to her. "But it is more literal for us.
"You are a part of the world around you. You know this. What you must learn is that the world is also a part of you." I gestured and at the same time let my presence shine. Mara twitched at the sensation. I grinned. "Everything is connected. The wind, the grass, the rocks, the people. Everything.
"It is a vibrant web that runs through everything in the universe. The Jedi call it the Force. The Witches of Dathomir call it magic." I paused and watched her eyes light up. "I call it life."
"Your prey has eluded you. Focus." I gestured and she closed her eyes. "You have studied its wake, learned from its passing. Concentrate on what it is. The way it walks. The trees it eats. The paths it chooses. Know it as you do yourself.
"Hold it in your mind and your heart. And know that it is a part of you, just as you are a part of it." Mara's face scrunched in concentration.
"Breathe." My voice shifted, growing quieter as I felt her presence begin to grow.
"Let the world flow through you," I whispered, closing my eyes. The gentle embers of her presence flared into an open flame. I embraced it with my own, guiding her awareness out.
"Let yourself feel that distant part of you." In the distance, a faint echo of her shone like a beacon. I injected a hint of predatory glee into my tone. "And seize it."
The world shuddered and the bond was forged.
I let my presence recede and opened my eyes. Mara had frozen half-turned, her sightless eyes locked on the disturbed grass in the distance. We remained like that for several seconds.
She blinked, and time began to move again. She nearly fell, catching herself with one hand. Sweat stained her shirt. Her breath came in quick gulps. She tore her gaze away from the trail and over to me. Her eyes were wild.
"W-what was that?"
"That," I said. I didn't bother to hide the approval and satisfaction in my voice. "Was your first step. Very well done."
"It was... more," she said after a moment. Her breathing began to slow as she marshalled her thoughts. "Just... more, than I expected."
"Yes." I smiled under my helmet. "It always is."
She stood up, and I followed. She pointed toward the trail.
"It's that way," she said with a shake of her head. She looked back at me. "I'm not sure how, but I know it."
I nodded and gestured for her to lead on.
She charged off. I had to hurry to follow.
She led me along the indaraz's trail without hesitation. No more were there false trails or doubling back. Every sign of its passage was noted, the trail as clear to her as an open road.
We followed it for almost an hour, until I spotted a small scuff torn into a tree.
"Hold, Mara." She stopped and turned to me with a questioning gaze.
"It went this way," she said. One slim finger pointed to a depression in the grass, a swathe torn out by the indaraz's belly. "Didn't it?"
"It did," I said, and fell silent. I could feel the wheels turning in her head. She knew by now I wouldn't have stopped her for no reason.
"Okay..." She walked over to me and tried to follow my gaze. When she didn't find anything, she turned back to me. "What did I miss?"
I walked over to the tree and tapped it next to the mark. Then pointed at the torn up dirt a few meters beyond. The claw marks were unmistakable.
"These are from a cathan'dare," I said. My finger moved along its faint trail, in the same direction Mara had pointed moments before. "There is more than one hunter after this prey."
She cursed.
"A cathan'dare," she said, Mando'a clearly awkward on her tongue. "That's what that big skull was, right? In the Trophy Hall?"
"Originally." I nodded. She studied the cathan'dare's tracks and bit her lip uncertainly. I let her digest that for a long moment before I spoke again. "Do you wish to continue this hunt?"
She twitched, her eyes shooting over to lock on me. Horror was etched into every line of her face.
"What? Yes!"
"There is no shame in yielding your prey to a superior hunter," I said. I gestured at her and the other predator's tracks. "It's not ideal, but you would not be the first."
She scowled at me and looked away. Her mind and emotions raced in frantic circles, until she seemed to come to a revelation. The tension leaked from her body and was replaced by a calm determination.
"You said a Mandalorian needs to find enemies to push their limits." She gave me a steady look and gestured at the tracks. "I just found one."
I blinked. I... hadn't been expecting that response. A laugh began to bubble up from my gut, and it was clear in my voice.
"So you did."
(*)(*)(*)
"It's close." Mara's whisper was barely audible over the wind. She reached back and pulled out her spear.
Behind her, I nodded. The indaraz's simple contentment shone like a beacon. It lay in a half-doze just few dozen meters past the trees we hid behind. Mara's attention was locked on it.
Which meant she hadn't noticed the silent hunger stalking toward it from our left.
I felt the cathan'dare slink through the grass. Its progress was slow, methodical, and fearless. Its attention swept around like a searchlight, never resting on any single place for long, only to return to the indaraz. Between the distance and the wind, it was as ignorant of us as Mara was of it.
Satisfied, I turned my attention back to Mara. The spear sat comfortably in her grip, a far cry from the previous day. She was mumbling to herself and mentally running through the handful of strikes I'd spent the previous evening and morning drilling into her.
"Remember," I said. She gave an aborted flinch and looked at me. "Low and slow until -"
"It reacts." She nodded. She blew out a heavy breath. "Let's do it."
I grunted and slid out from behind the trees, and Mara slipped into place behind me. The grass hid me easily, but Mara had to crouch. She moved as I'd taught her as we followed the trail. Her steps were light, her body low, taking full advantage of the cover the grass offered. Her motions were awkward and unpracticed, but she had a natural grace that compensated for it well.
I had no doubt she'd move like a whisper on the wind, in time.
Ahead of us, the indaraz was resting in the middle of the open plain like an enormous, hairy spider. Six thick legs, each one wider than most trees, rose in arches, the peaks almost three meters above the top of the grass. The legs all met together in a massive ball of fur and flesh, one side of which was dominated by an enormous maw and two pairs of eyes. A pair of, comparatively, small tentacles twitched on either side of its mouth.
The approach was easy. Indaraz were never the most alert or aggressive of beasts; at their size, they had no need to be. It didn't react until there were only a few meters left to go.
It leapt and toward us, letting out a sound like rocks being fed into a grinder. Mara hesitated, surprise and sudden, instinctive fear gripping her. I surged forward and to the side, my spear flashing.
Beskar cleaved through skin and fur like paper. Thick, purple blood, splattered across the grass.
The indaraz reared and its injured leg lashed out at me. I dove forward, its foot slamming down with enough force to make the ground shake. My spear lashed out again, thrusting toward its eyes. The beast flinched back, getting away with only a light cut across its snout. It made another grinding sound of pain and rage.
In the distance, I felt surprise and excitement spike in the cathan'dare. A small, distant part of my mind noted the way its approach became a circle. The rest of me ignored it to focus on the beast in front of me.
While the indaraz was distracted, Mara charged in with a cry, thrusting her spear into the base of one of its legs. The spear struck true, sinking deep into the closest thing it had to an armpit. The leg went limp, and nearly pulled the spear out of Mara's hand.
She threw herself back, the spear going with her and pulling more blood and pained cries from the indaraz.
I repeated my earlier thrust, jumping over its wild thrashing in the process, and this time hit. Blood and bits of eye flew through the air.
The indaraz panicked and tried to run, its dead leg dragging behind it.
On its second full step, Mara surged out of the grass and thrust her spear once more. Beskar slid cleanly between the indaraz's ribs, and in the blink of an eye, over half the spear disappeared inside it.
Raw momentum tore the spear out of Mara's grip, sending her spinning away as the indaraz tried to continue on.
It made it almost a dozen meters before it collapsed.
"It, it's dead?" Mara asked, panting, as she got back on her feet.
"Soon," I said. I walked over and joined her in approaching the dying beast. I reached out with my power and pulled her spear from the dying beast. It let out a pained groan and went still. The spear hung beside her, dripping gore into the grass. "You did well."
"Thanks." She looked at me and grabbed the spear. A shake of her hand tossed the worst of it aside. "Now what?"
"Now you defend it." I jerked my head at the rapidly-approaching presence of the cathan'dare and jumped away. She turned in that direction.
"Fro- Sithspit!" Mara snapped and threw herself back, moments before the beast burst out of the grass.
It was a large quadrupedal reptile, the mottled green and orange of its scales shining in the late-afternoon sunlight. Each of its limbs ended in vicious, serrated claws. A short, rigid tail stretched out behind it. It's head is what captured the attention, though. It had a long, ridged snout that swept back into a bony crest. Its crest was at full extension, the shockingly bright red of it eye catching like nothing else.
Enormous, razor-sharp teeth were bared at Mara and I in turn.
"What does it want?" Mara asked, her voice quiet and tense.
"Your kill," I said, just as tense.
"Well it can't have it," she snapped.
The cathan'dare snapped its attention to her and she paused. It hissed again.
I nodded.
"Then defend it," I said, my voice as calm and even as I could manage. I backed away slowly and forced my body language to be relaxed and non-threatening. Mara sent me a sideways, incredulous look, one eye locked on the lizard. "This is your foe. That is your kill. You must defend it. This is the way."
Mara growled and spat out something unkind.
"It is a part of you," I told her. It hissed again, even louder and snapped its jaws at her. She gave me a sharp nod. "Seize it."
Then there was no more time for talk.
The cathan'dare charged at her with a sound like a boiling kettle. She yelped in surprise and fear, but terror lent her wings. She threw herself to the side moments before it barrelled through, and just barely missed being gutted by its claws.
She shrieked in fear and anger and before she'd even returned to her feet, stabbed after it with her spear. Beskar cut through scales as easily as flesh, and a line of red blood welled up along the lizard's tail.
It shrieked, more from surprise than pain, and whirled around in an instant. Mara, still struggling to her feet, had no time to dodge. The bony crest caught her in the chest and flung her over a meter through the air.
She landed heavily, a pained wheeze the only sound she could make.
The cathan'dare hissed in triumph and charged once more. It crossed the distance in an instant and pounced
My hand shot up, my mind already reaching beyond my physical shell, when I felt it.
Mara suddenly blazed in my senses once more, a roaring flame of focus, passion, and stubborn refusal. She spun, rolling up over her head and snatching up her spear in the same motion.
She thrust, even as the beast was falling onto her. Beskar, honed and shaped by generations of skill, and driven by the creature's own immense weight bit into its throat, through its spine and out the other side.
The cathan'dare died instantly.
I caught its body with my power, holding it in midair as Mara collapsed beneath it. With a gesture, I dropped it safely to the side, then walked over to her. The girl stared up at me, her breath coming in pained gasps. She'd bruised a rib or two, at least. In addition, a long and shallow, but painful looking, cut ran down the length of her forearm.
But despite all that, she was grinning.
"I, uh." Her voice was thin and pained, and full of far too much adrenaline to care about that. "Do all hunts end like this?"
I sat down beside her.
"Only the good ones."
A quiet snore was her only response.