THE DISTANT MUSIC gradually faded as Adah walked into the Haunted Forest overran
with ancient trees. The tribesmen
believed the spirits of those who died fighting the Guth Honkai lingered here, hence the name. She had
come to savor these private moments, away from the gossiping of the women. There were moments she truly felt like
an outsider. She did not even look like one of them. Where they bore large
bosoms and firm breasts, she had a tiny frame and small buds on her chest just enough to convince everyone she was a girl. After all
these years, she would still
see a few tribesmen staring at her with fear and suspicion.
Her
only true friend was Sakhan, her bone brother and earliest memory. Adah had
little recollection prior to the
night the Lions found them wandering the outskirts of the village, tired and
starving. She still remembered the chief pale with sickness. At six,
Adah emptied her bladder when she
saw the head of a lion staring down at her from the huge man's shoulders. It
was a long time ago, but the memory
was still fresh in her mind. Even though they were on the brink of exhaustion, there was no pity in the chief's
eyes as the council debated, his hands lingering over a wound on his chest. If he had thrown
them out, it would have meant certain death. The Lions were still agitated after their recent clash with the Abun
raiders. But just when the chief was about to pronounce a verdict, a lanky
boy sneaked from behind
the throne and ran up
to Adah.
''Who let him in here?'' the chief
snapped.
Before the guards could
grab the boy, he held out a small piece of meat to her. ''Are you hungry?'' Sakhan asked.
The men watched in a trance
as she took the chunk of beef and shared it with her mother.
Before any of them recovered, Sakhan
grabbed her arm and led her away.
If the chief had truly wanted them to stay remained a secret
between the chief and the skyfather.
The
events of that night came back to Adah whenever her mother had her sudden fits
of fever. The old woman
was sick that night as well and
every turn of the moon since. So Adah had to
find spirit flowers for her healing tea. pa
Wukhem had always allowed her in his farm to harvest some. But for some reason,
the man denied this time.
Adah
was still hopeful though. Her mother always said everything could be found in
the Haunted Forest if one knew where
to look. These woods were sacred to the Lions through the generations. There was even a popular
story of how Sakhan's mother healed the chief by following a sick dog around the woods
and taking note of the grasses it ate.
One of them was a spirit flower.
The
grey orb was bright overhead as Adah cut through a small pine grove, itchy
grasses brushing against her shin. She had a bow slung over her shoulder
and a quiver strapped to her hip. If beasts prowled here, they would not make a meal of her. Adah was about to clear the grove when, out of nowhere, the woods began to
whisper. She halted and listened. The Haunted Forest was not a place for night-time meetings. They must be runaway
lovers, she thought. Giggling, Adah
quietly tip-toed toward the voices.
''And the general wants me to bring it to him?''
a familiar voice asked.
''The ancestral blade will lift the curse,
he is certain. When should
we expect you?''
There was no reply, only the chirping of crickets.
''I will come as soon as I can. Tell him the boy and his mother are well.''
The
voices came from behind an enormous pine tree. The ancestral blade? This
meeting was a deliberate secret, she realized, and a dangerous one as
well. Adah backed away, trying to slip into a nearby bush when she stumbled on a half-buried root and crashed into a pile of cones.
The whispering stopped and a strained silence followed her fall. Then
she heard movement behind the tree. Adah quickly stood up and sprinted into the darkness.
The
tall grasses whipped and lashed at her, the moaning of the wind in her ears.
She leaped and ran, stumbled and
staggered, pine needles and cones pressing underfoot. Before long, Adah
cleared the pine grove and was racing
into the thicker woods. She heard the pounding
of hooves gaining on her. Adah tried to remember the direction of old Charchar's
cabin but her mind was blank. All it
said was run. She sprinted blindly now and tripped over a fallen sapling,
tumbling onto her chest just as something zoomed past inches from her head. Her
face scrubbed the forest floor and
pain blazed in her head.
The bow had
jolted from her grasp, and when Adah struggled
to her knees again, three horses encircled her, their riders
cutting dark silhouettes in the moonlight. For
a moment, she caressed her sprained wrist, moaning. None of the riders made to
move. The drummers could barely be
heard now. The chase had led them further away from the palace. Adah looked up at the faces and recognized they were not Lions. What was happening?
A fourth rider trotted up to the scene. ''Kill her,'' the familiar voice commanded and a bow began to creak, picking its mark.
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