Warrior of the Wild(5)



Peruxolo climbs into the last wagon in line.

He leans down to examine the drugged girl lying across the floor. He places a thumb and forefinger on either side of her chin, turning it from side to side as if she were a doll.

“She’s pretty. She will make a fine sacrifice. At least I can count on the Mallimer village to do their part each year.”

The Mallimer village leader nods. Actually nods. As though he’s done some great service.

My father turns away from the scene. Does he imagine how it would feel if one of his own daughters were taken? I know how much our people suffer, because I see the shrunken bodies and hollow cheeks that follow the Payment each year. But now I’m reminded how some villages have a heavier Payment than we do.

“Hitch the wagons together,” Peruxolo orders.

My father and the others remove the nocerotis from each wagon, yoking them all together in front of the first wagon. They connect the wagons in one long train. Peruxolo sits at the head of the reins and slaps them down on the hides of the wide beasts in front. So very slowly, all those goods, the wealth of seven different villages, roll away.

My whole life, I have heard whisperings about the god Peruxolo. He moves objects without touching them. Kills men who displease him with a look. Floats above us in the air. Sometimes the ground shakes when he walks. He has even been known to kill entire villages. Only twenty years ago, the Byomvar village was eradicated in the short span of a week when they failed to meet the requirements of their Payment for the second year in a row. They all grew sick until their bodies collapsed.

Peruxolo appeared hundreds of years ago in our lands and made it his home, demanding tribute every year in exchange for not slaughtering us all where we stand. His power is unlimited, he himself is immortal, and we have no choice but to abide by his wishes.

We’re taught to pray for Peruxolo’s mercy each night, but I do not. My prayers are only for Rexasena, the high goddess. She is an unseen deity who lives in the heavens. But I feel her all around me. In my sisters’ laughter. In the sun’s warm rays. In the peace I feel inside. She encourages goodness and kindness in this life so we may experience bliss in the life to come. But Peruxolo? He is a bane on the mortal realm, making us suffer unnecessarily for his own gain.

“Let’s go,” Torrin whispers. “Your father’s leaving. We should try to beat him home. We don’t want him to notice you’re missing.”

I nod and let Torrin lead me back the way we came. Despite the dangerous terrain, my thoughts circle around that girl in the last wagon. I wish I could help her. But to do so would be to doom the entire Mallimer village to a worse fate. We have no choice but to let her go.

I shiver from the thought of the death that awaits that girl.

“What’s wrong?” Torrin asks as we dodge another tree branch. “Did you see the gunda?”

I nudge him with my shoulder. “The gunda isn’t real.”

“How would you know? You’ve never been out in the wild before.”

“It’s an imagined monster meant to scare children away from the dangerous wild.”

“Don’t shrug it off until you see one.”

“You do realize the flaw in that logic?”

He grins, and I look away so as not to be caught staring at his mouth.

“Come, now,” Torrin says. “You’d love to stride back into the village carrying the gunda’s head. Imagine the look on Havard’s face!”

I know he’s trying to make me feel better, and I let him, because I want to feel better.

“Imagine how spent we’d be then before tomorrow’s trial,” I say.

“Worried you’ll fail?” he teases.

Though we’re both eighteen, we will not be considered adults by the village until we pass our trial. It is a dangerous challenge filled with ziken, the same creatures that roam these very woods. And the consequence for failing is no small thing. Tradition dictates that those who fail face banishment and the mattugr. It is the absolute worst disgrace to be bestowed by my people. If any individual isn’t excelling in their profession, they’re smart enough to switch to something more befitting their abilities before the year of their trial.

“If I were to fail,” I say, “who would trounce you so thoroughly during training drills?”

“An excellent point. We’d best stick together tomorrow, then.”

I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing the word we leave his lips.

After tomorrow, things are going to change. When I beat my trial, I can finally move out of my father’s house. I can see Torrin whenever I like. No more sneaking around because Torrin is afraid of my father.

And I’ll finally be free of my mother.

A sharp yank snaps my head backward. I think I’ve caught my hair on something, until I’m suddenly spun around, and a powerful pain shoots clear to the back of my skull, starting at my right eye.

I barely manage to catch my balance as my hands fly over my eye. Then I hear quiet laughter.

It would seem that Torrin and I were not, in fact, the only ones to sneak out tonight.

“Something in your eye?” Havard taunts as he shakes out the fist that struck me. That sends his accomplices, Kol and Siegert, into a fit of laughter.

I wipe at my watering eyes so I can properly see the threat, but my right eye appears to already be swelling shut. I can’t believe I didn’t hear Havard coming. I was too distracted thinking about Torrin.

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