Call of the Wild.
By HuntressDiana
Disclaimer; The title of this is from the book 'Call of the Wild' by Jack London. I own none of the characters in this, they all are property of Tamora Pierce. I am getting no money from this at all.
However, the plot and story do belong to me. Anyone found using them without my permission is plagiarising.
At the moment I have no plans to continue this and make it a proper story, it is simply a one shot, what I think happened at Daine's farm in Snowsdale. I am concentrating on my other stories at the moment so even if I do see a way of continuing this it may not happen for some time.
Bandits roam the hills of Galla and the village they are coming to next is Snowsdale. Here is a girl who, at the moment, is quite unremarkable. But, little do they know, how she will revenge herself upon the murderers of her family, and how their cruelty will alter the course of her future...
This is for those people who wanted a Daine story.
A scream rang from over the hills…
Dozens of men riding shaggy mountain horses roamed through the blazing village. The first house they set alight had been that of the headman. He now lay dead before his burning home, his blood the first spilt that morning. His wife screamed again as she was pulled up on a horse by the rider, who then rode off with his prize, into the woods where none dared follow him.
The fires were spreading, and so was the panic, some of the men banded together to try and repel the invaders, but they were soon cut down as their families wailed with grief. The miller, the carpenter and the old priest were all ruthlessly slaughtered as they attempted to defend their homes. Younger women fought to hold the men back, but their resistance was wasted when the prettiest of them were stolen from the grip of their fathers, brothers or husbands, and carried off.
The raiders left the main part of the village and headed up a slight slope to where they knew a pretty woman lived alone. They didn't expect the fierce resistance that met them though. The woman brandished a dagger and a bow and arrows. The older man too had a bow but carried in his other hand a sturdy staff of oak wood. But the most surprising thing was the mass of shifting bodies before them.
The dogs were the first to attack, barking fiercely, they managed to unhorse ten men in the first surprise wave. The fallen were soon dealt with. None rose again.
The ground was soon stained red.
Horses pawed the air and struck men, fighting with their teeth and hooves. Some of the bandits' mounts shifted uncertainly, some fled, leaving their riders sitting in the dirt.
The humans killed several with their arrows before the leader of the bandits rode up to them and, before the old man could move, stabbed a long, curved blade deep into his chest.
The woman screamed, but continued to fight. However, the men were now recovering from their shock and were fighting back, killing the animals.
About three hours later, a young girl, no older than thirteen, rode over the crest of the hill. A thick mist had fallen, hiding the destruction from her eyes and the scent from her nose. When she reached her farm home, she screamed. Her Ma and Grandda lay face down on the ground. A dagger stuck out from each of their backs, a final insult. A low whine drew her attention to Mammoth, her boss dog. He lay by the burned house, an arrow in his side.
"What happened?" Her voice was thick with tears. So he told her.
Five minutes later, he died in her arms. Unsteadily she rose to her feet, only to see her horse nuzzling the bodies of her dead family.
"We're on our own Cloud. They killed everyone." She knelt and stroked the long manes and soft noses of Cloud's dam and sire, of her brothers.
Slowly, as if she had aged sixty years, the girl walked over to the burnt house. Numbly she saw that only the top was totally destroyed, the rest had been protected by the charms against fire in the kitchen. She retrieved a spade and, along with her mare, dug the first graves in the field on the other side of the fence.
Her mother and grandfather were the first to be buried. Cloud's family and the other brave animals were next. Mammoth was the last one she laid in a grave. As she let the first clod of earth fall upon his noble, broken body, the tears fell fast and hard.
Slowly the grief faded and the girl and horse mourned together. It was replaced by a hot rage, and unquenchable anger. They must have been dead for sometime before they had found the bodies, and another few hours had been spent burying them all. No one had come from the village to see if they were alright. The smoke from the house still hung above the farm, a clear sign to anybody who wanted to read it.
The girl stood and, seeing the chaos and ruin of her childhood home, she let all her anger out in a harsh scream. Cloud added her own cry to her mistress'. Swiftly, animals gathered to the girl, the people came to see why she had called for them. Unaware that she had called for the wild creatures to come for her, Daine crouched down to talk to them.
And her scream rang over the hills…
I've had a lot of people asking me if I am going to continue this. At the moment the answer is no. I have not got a clue where it would go from now on. I may add little bits and periodically 'update' this so more people read it, and so I can alter any bits I don't like, but I if I do add another chapter on, I will try and let you all know.
Thanks for all your reviews so far. I look forward to hearing from you again on my other stories.
HuntressDiana