Ch. 18

  Secrets Come to Light

  Sutama sat before a burning pyre in the middle of the village. The flames danced in his eyes watching as if entranced by their glow. He scratched his cheek raising both hands; they were bound together. The hunter sat alone as a line of guards stood with their backs to him refusing any who attempted to speak with the man. Jogia and Caluu waited close by with Odaru standing near trying to reassure the family’s worries as they wept. The hunting leader could hear them as his chest ached. He knew he must turn to them, answer to them. Answer to Lord Kelvert. He had lost his eldest daughter, his first wife, and now his son. Other villagers argued with one another about the events. With so many witnesses, many argued he was a hero for fighting the blade-jaw but, cold for leaving his son. Others argued he was a fool for two of his young lost in the drylands and blame him even for the beast.

  The hunting leader said nothing to them. Spoke to none as he waited for the elders and village leaders to speak. He then looked down at his tool strap finding only his stone knives confiscated and loosened one of the pouches. Sutama undid the knot closing the bag and rummaged through the flintstones to retrieve a blue wooden bead. He rolled the beads from beneath his tunic looking at the hundreds that lined the thread. One of every safe journey through the drylands. One for every thankful prayer he had in returning home. His eyes grew red as he dropped the necklace and sighed.

  Looking back to the lone bead, he turned it so he could peer through the opening. “I failed as a father,” Sutama told himself as the pain increased. He gritted his teeth as he strained his grip on the bead. The path started to warp and collapse as he thought back to Nuyani’s disappearance.

  “I think you should start leading. I failed twice,” Sutama stated.

  “Tsk. Have more faith,” Odaru started. “The Great Lord has a plan for everything. You are giving up too soon.”

  Sutama blinked several times. “Such strength, old friend. I am certain you’re the better hunter.”

  Odaru shrugged his shoulders. “I learned from a great one. Lord Kelvert willing, Cuganwa will be alive and well.”

  The older hunter’s brow furrowed. “Don’t do that, Odaru. Building such a belief can only make the fall harder.”

  “If it isn’t true.” The two looked at one another trading competing stares to drill their point. Sutama’s heart started to race. The thought of his boy still breathing made him wish it so as his breathing increased. His back straightened.

  “Why? Why do you believe this?” Sutama looked at him.

  Odaru smirked, “She hasn’t tried anything before even after To’anu’s attempt. Why start now? Why tell us all to run when she was pushing that beast into the river, err trying. There seems to be a kindred spirit of Lord Kelvert. Not a witch.”

  Sutama narrowed his eyes at the man. “Tell me this is more of your belief in the Great Lord and not affection for her.”

  “Belief, Sutama.” Odaru’s tone grew stern. “Faith. More things transpiring than just the witch running about.”

  Sutama’s thoughts returned to the news of the worms that burst from the blemish of the blade-jaw. After he was knocked out, they rose and moved about as if searching for something and another was severed as it was wrapped around the animal’s spine. Odaru’s eyes then shifted to the side for a moment before two sets of arms wrapped around the man on either side. Jogia buried her head into his shoulder as Caluu did the same. The two wept as they held on. Sutama breathed deeply as he raised his head to the sky. A sense of relief washed over him. He feared his family would reject him for their loss. Sutama moved his hand to sit on Jogia’s. Odaru then rose as he turned away from the others and headed toward the rest of the village.

  “The Great Lord’s light is shining now, Sutama. Have faith,” the man said as he hobbled back to the others.

  “He is right. This should not have happened,” Sutama started.

  “No. I believe in Odaru’s words. Lord Kelvert’s will, that is all we have,” Jogia stated as she trembled. “I don’t know what else to do but, pray.”

  Sutama rested his head on his wife’s. “What will we do? If it weren’t for that beast, I don’t think the witch would’ve taken Cuganwa.”

  “What!” Caluu then called out. Her parents looked at her in surprise.

  “The witch had taken your brother,” Sutama explained.

  “Then Cuganwa will be back,” the girl said. Her red eyes filled with a sense of joy. Her parents then looked at one another before turning back to the child. Sutama looked at his youngest worried her hope could lead to a harsh reality. “Well, she never bothers you.” Caluu lowered her head recognizing her father’s confusion.

  “Caluu, my dear, I hope you are right,” the hunter said wearing a weak smile as he rested a hand on her cheek. “I should still have hope.” Sutama continued to smile but, knew even with his return, the village would not treat him the same. He would be looked at as cursed and any accomplishment a mere twist of his affliction. Only if they accepted him afterward.

  “Do not look so dower, Sutama,” someone sounded behind him. The family turned around finding the village chief and elders standing behind them in his hand was the curved blade resting against his shoulder. On his wrist, however, was the same usual jewel every chief wore before. Sutama’s eyes trailed to the crystal in the leather bracelet gawking at the realization that there were now two blades. “We’ve worked with you for too long to throw things away with sudden speculation. Cut him free. There will be another caravan.”

  Jogia and Caluu moved away as they let two guards cut Sutama’s binds. Free of them, he pulled his family in for another embrace. Parts of his fears lessened as the relief broke his tears free.

  Gamaunda then turned away passing the line of guards as he held up the blades. Many of the shouts and conversations ended or were reduced to murmurs. The chief then raised his other hand. The stone embedded in the leather piece shined with a white glimmer against his palm as before another identical blade poured from it rising to the sky before Gamaunda closes his hand around the hilt. The other villagers were stunned by the reveal. Suspicion passed through the village of the witch stealing the blade for Sutama to usurp the position. Other theories came that his party wanted to form another village.

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  The villagers were mixed with several emotions as Gamaunda said, “It seems there is a truth that we must discuss on our history. This blade is from a past we have fled long ago. One that has not risen in the three hundred years since we’ve arrived in the drylands.

  “What is this?” a villager challenged. “We came from water and soil under Kelvert’s will. We are the children of the Great Lord. Why are you repeating a fable?”

  “Proof of the fable lies in my hand here,” the chief said.

  Yanuma then stepped forth. As she raised her ring to the people pointing the green gem toward them. A bright glow rose from the stone. Emerald lights shot forth onto the ground. Varying shades of green took shape showing hundreds of stone structures that rose to the sky large crystals floated on several tall structures. A single structure with a dome roof sat in the middle. To one side sat several strange trees topped with wide fanning leaves, the other side containing endless waters that crashed against the stone platform. Some stepped back from the images that were displayed by the elder.

  “We are not from the drylands, but another place long forgotten. There, we were still hunters that traveled the oceans to capture beasts and fight other people from other nations,” Yanuma started. Confusion arose in the faces of the villagers. Some looked to one another trying to find some answer. Never had any elder displayed such abilities. Some were more perplexed by the words of ocean and nations. Two figures then rose above every building carrying the same weapons and the strange knife. “Young gods lead us in that old faith to battle and fight but, it ended when something worse came to follow us.” The pristine civilization turned into a scene of horror as branches and flames rose as people fled from the area. Many of the structures had toppled over or were damaged. The bodies of the gods lying on the ground are still larger than the structures around them.

  “You lie!” a villager declared as the image of the enormous, masked figure came into view. “What is that?”

  “What made us flee. Creatures and beings beyond our strength drove us into the drylands,” Yanuma continued. “There is a world beyond the cliffs that we’ve survived. And those captured faced a fate worse than death. Even now, some may be in servitude to this monster attacking other people.”

  “This can’t be true,” a villager stated. “You’re saying people three hundred years ago are still being used to this day?” The elder shot a look at the man with an unflinching glare. The villager opened and closed his mouth several times thinking the elder was bluffing.

  “Who here challenges my knowledge when I’ve known so much about you?” Yanuma scanned the crowd. None stepped forward or spoke up. “There is a history we have in and beyond these cliffs.”

  A woman began to weep. “Are you telling us that Kelvert is a lie?” the villager asked.

  “No!” Yanuma turned her palm to the sky as the green lights shifted into the shape of the drylands outlining a familiar river and a ball of light one could mistake for the sun. “When all was lost, we were protected by the power Kelvert. Raised and strengthened by his will alone. We are the children of Kelvert. There is no one left tied to the old, failed gods.”

  “Then what of the blade?” the same man asked. Yanuma narrowed her eyes at his boisterous attitude but, saw his questions were keeping the villagers at ease.

  “The blade is but, a relic from that life. A useful weapon for battle,” Yanuma explained.

  “Then why did the witch have it and why do we use one?” the man pressed.

  Yanuma’s tone grew stern and stronger as she addressed the villager. “It would be foolish to leave such things forgotten. We came to the drylands to survive, and the blades aid us in fighting true terror. The witch…may know something worse is coming or is here.” She then looked back to Sutama staring into his eyes as hers grew green. The lights changed once more as they transformed into the large blade-jaw from Sutama’s perspective. “Your arrows did nothing to the beast.” Others started to whisper once more. The memories of Sutama looking at the beast and tracking his shot carefully measured to hit the creature and not the witch. His memory shivered as the beast roared with the witch trying to push the creature into the river. It only cleared as his son and Nuyani disappeared before he flailed after the monster cutting into its neck. He then fell and grabbed the blade instead. Yanuma sighed and closed her eyes. She then turned to another hunter showing the worms that burst from the enormous blade-jaw. Others gasped at the strange creatures.

  Gamaunda then spoke, “This is a new threat we may face in the village or the drylands. We must learn what the witch knows and get our answer.”

  “W-why keep such a secret?” one of the villagers asked. “This is too much to hide. Who were those gods?”

  “No!” Yanuma shouted swinging her hand to her side. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the villager. “There are things you cannot know! Just the names of any of them could call those forces here. We survived and grew under the protection of Lord Kelvert. Otherwise, we would’ve perished long ago. I hear the screams of everyone who fled and lost loved ones. We survived. Accepted it and be grateful.”

  Yanuma stepped away as Elder Belractu came forth. “There is little I can add but, learn this. There are new creatures that have come to infect the demons, and even the witch had to flee. Take what you will from that but, the only thing we can do now to survive is get her word, her knowledge.” The elder emphasized his point raising and lowering his hand in subtle arches. “We must focus on the trouble at hand and answer the important questions. For now, you at least know where things are going.” The elder then turned from the group and looked toward the west seeing the fading sun crawl over the edge as violet colored the sky.

  Gamaunda then added, “Ten hunters and ten guards will accompany me to the witch’s den. We will retrieve Cuganwa and learn of the witch’s actions or we will slay her. We leave tonight.”

  “What of the storms?” the same man asked.

  “The drylands remain surprisingly calm,” Elder Moyaud interjected. “The winds are stronger but, I see the storm arriving in a few days. By the Great Lord’s will, this should be a few days but, reasonable time.”

  Sutama looked to the dirt as his thoughts replayed on the slain gods and villagers fleeing from their ancient home. ‘What were you doing there, Nuyani? Why’d you leave the drylands?’

  Gamaunda then nodded his head as he flipped the second blade around and pointed its hilt toward Sutama. The senior hunter raised his chin and glanced at the weapon. The village chief then said, “You must always bring your effort. Redeem yourself. Help us talk to your daughter. Keep the village safe.”

  Sutama’s expression hardened as Caluu looked between Sutama and Gamaunda gawking at the news. Jogia wrapped her arms around the child. She knew Caluu was upset. The child lowered her head as her face wrinkled. Jogia sat low to the child’s height to console her but, Caluu merely started running as she shouted, “Cuganwa is fine! He’ll be back!”

  Jogia started after her daughter but, stopped as she glared at the chief. “Bring “them” home,” Jogia said before walking off. Sutama sighed.

  “Too many truths, Brother Sutama,” Gamaunda stated keeping formal. He gnashed his teeth as he looked the older hunter in the eye.

  “Too many secrets, Chief Gamaunda,” Sutama replied.

  “It was not my intention to upset her…” Gamaunda started.

  “No,” Sutama interjected. “She learned now during a stressful time. She would’ve learned later. She and Cuganwa. But, I just want to get my boy back.”

  Gamaunda nodded his head before turning to the other guards. “Get the mounts ready with three-days’ worth of supplies for food and water. We don’t know what we will face out there.”

  As the village moved, several groups of hunters were chosen for the caravan. Within the half-hour, as the light died over the horizon, the whip-necks were lined at the gate. Sutama sat on his mount looking at the gate as the sun was dying. He gripped the reins of the whip-neck tightly as the bone gate was picked apart. On his left was a fixed torch lighting the way and on his right side, the blade sat in his quiver.

  “Sutama,” someone called. The senior hunter turned to the side seeing Lamoy. “May the Great Lord’s light guide you.” The huntress held a hardened stare.

  The man nodded his head before the group rode through the gate.