The Ostyragor - Chapter 3 - The Beast

Chapter 3 – The Beast

“Who is that?” The young woman, a wealthy merchant's daughter, asked in awe. She watched as a massive man hammered in a fence post with a large mallet. Her mother nodded approvingly.

“Not sure. He's big though. Make a fine husband.” The matron, similarly attired in fine linen and cotton clothing, remarked. She couldn't understand why her lovely daughter was still not bonded to a man of means. She had a good bone structure, good health, obvious feminine charms, and came from a family of wealth. Every suitor who had ever come to call upon her quickly lost their interest.

Her father barked out a laugh, to which her mother narrowed her eyes. This time he didn't back down. His smile was almost malicious.

“That is Ta'rak.” He didn't explain what that meant, and to the daughter, it meant nothing particular.

“Ta'rak...Ta'rak, why does that name sound familiar?” His wife could remember something about that name, and his eyes remained gleeful while she tried to remember. His lovely daughter let her anger show, and her demeanor showed her father why she was still single. She was spoiled rotten.

“What do I care if you know who he is? He's strong, would make a good soldier, and could easily join the Soturi!” Her petulant whine gave way to a groan of exasperation. How could her parents not see that she wanted this man and it was their job to get him for her?

“You should know him, my dear. He was Haltija's first student.” His wife's eyes opened wide with recognition. Her daughter still had a look of boredom.

“Who's Haltija?” She rolled her eyes disrespectfully. Her mother turned her way, anger in her features, the first she's seen in a long time.

“Only the last Kalpa Mestari of Arouna Dell! You had better remember proper respect when saying his name! Do you know the trouble you could cause us should one of the Soturi hear you speak so disrespectfully?” Her daughter looked a bit confused.

“Our Kalpa Mestari? I thought Annikki was his student!” Her father nodded, a vicious smile still on his face.

“She was his last one, but she was never raised. Ta'rak was his first student, and although he could never be raised to Kalpa Mestari of Arouna Dell, he defeated Haltija.” He did not need to say what that resulted in, or the skill needed to pull off such a feat. His daughter's eyes became even more interested in the vision of muscle before her.

“Even more reason to have him as husband.” Her mother rolled her eyes while her father laughed evilly. “Why are you laughing at me?” Her whine was irritating, and most likely another one of the reasons she was not bonded.

“As a Sword Master, Kalpa Mestari, he is no doubt already bonded! Even if he wasn't, you aren't worthy!” Her mother patted her hand. “He is, my dear, above your station.” Her mother took her by the hand and pulled her away from the fence, though she turned back one last time to admire the strength the man obviously possessed.  “But you are right. He would have made a fine husband.” She said it sadly as she walked away.

“You could have been easier on her then that, Rudon.” Nongul appeared at the merchant's side, a slight smile on his lips.

“Nongul, you old goat! Ahh, you're right, but you don't know what I put up with just to please those two! I want to marry her off, but her attitude leaves a sour taste in every suitor's mouth.”

“You spoiled her too much. Told you that years ago.”

“I know, I know. What could I do? I made so much silver trading, and since my family had never seen so much coin, I ended up spoiling both of them. Now, I regret every silver spent making them happy because they never are!” Nongul chuckled. At least when he spoiled his wife, she appreciated it.

“Get the girl bonded to someone of at least average smarts, he might stick around long enough to get her out of your hair! A little reality might straighten her out.”

“Probably right. Real life has a habit of doing that. Is Ta'rak competing this year? Got some coins I wouldn't mind risking on his sword.”

“Not a chance. His wife would make him regret even trying to step into the Ring.” Rudon laughed.

“I feel for him, I really do. Too bad. He's almost a sure thing.” He looked at Ta'rak as he raised the mallet. “I think those posts regret getting in his way.” Nongul chuckled as the mallet landed and drove the post deeper into the hard packed soil.

“I feel bad for the mallet.”

* * * * *

Wild and angry eyes were burned into his mind as Ta'rak swung the mallet again and again. They always burned with passion and desire, but were quick to anger. The heat of the day, the work of setting up the Ring in its new location, and memories of her hands dancing across his chest last night drenched his back with sweat.

Ta'rak sighed and set the mallet down for a moment. He didn't want to leave his wife alone again this year, but the Hunt was a commitment he had to keep.

“Maybe next year, Nongul or A'ton will run it.” He picked up the mallet again, raised it over his shoulder, and hit the top of the post with one last strike.

Akeena was not going to make it easy for him to go this year though. When she said she would torture him, she meant it. There was no sense in fighting her pull either. Akeena curved her lips in a small smile and looked up at him from under her lashes, or swayed her hips while she walked, and he melted like snow in a frying pan over an open camp fire. Her pull was powerful, her will intense, and her desire smoked hotly whenever he was around. If Akeena deliberately set herself to force him to fall in love with her, she was well on her way to doing just that.

He needed to see her smile.

Ta'rak walked over to the table and looked at the plans again in an attempt to clear his mind of the clutter, and his wife's overpowering influence. The Ring had been pushed off the center of the village this year, off the market square, and against the wall. That didn't bother him much. They needed the room for the competitors to spread out and be able to circle each other comfortably.

New seating areas had been planned for the ones who organized the gambling. They grumbled a little, but Ta'rak reminded them that they would get to see the fighters as they entered the Ring and when they left, which gave them excellent views for the purpose of gauging who would win, and who was too injured to continue. They had to pay ten percent of what they made off the bets to Ta'rak, his personal cut, but he did no betting himself. His experience gave him an unfair advantage.

Most of the participants were already signed in, with only a few stragglers not yet present, most of whom were from Arouna Dell. Their travel held them up sometimes, so he granted them leave to show up the day the Ring's first match was scheduled for. He would hold the matches in the second half of the cycle, which allowed the markets to continue to do business with the fighters. That also allowed him to start the Hunt at the beginning of the new dark moon.

“Hitto.” He muttered a couple of times. He put down the plans and rolled the scroll back up. He had seen them dozens of times already, and the setup would not get any better.

It was time to take care of a little personal business that he had been avoiding. He walked towards the center of the square, and approached a stall he knew to be the silversmith.

“Smith, I have something for you.” The man looked up from his display case, several pieces were laid out behind the glass, showing off his skill.

“What can I do for you, this fine day?” Ta'rak placed an old parchment on the stall counter. He recognized the design after taking a quick look. The smith had been asked to create a pin for a man's wife, and paid well for the pattern. Once it had approval, he would make it for a generous fee and ship it.

“I remember this, even though it was years ago. I thought you changed your mind on it.” The silversmith squinted his eyes, and checked for any type of deception. Ta'rak shook his head.

“The Jakt Agor took my wife ten years passed. There is another who it would be perfect for, with a variation. Is the agreed upon fee still good for you?” The fee was more than generous back then, and then some today. Villagers were less likely to spend silver on jewelry, but preferred to spend it on arms for protection, or food and basic survival supplies.

“Of course. Two ounces of silver for the piece, up front,” More then enough silver for the setting and delicate work required, “a stone for the setting, and five for the work. The stone if you still have it, but if you don't, I will have to get another and that would be another five ounces.” Ta'rak nodded, put the seven ounces of silver on the counter of the stall, along with a green stone, the variation being the stone itself. His previous choice was a ruby. The jeweler whistled lightly. It was a little bit larger then he expected, but that should be easy enough to work around.

“I thought you would pay the rest when you picked up the piece, or I shipped it to you?” He wasn't likely to try and sell it on him, but that was still a large amount of trust he was placing in the smith.

“No need. I know enough people in your town that I should be able to get it shipped with little trouble. Some are here today for the competitions.” The smith looked up from the silver, his eyes showing the recognition of who he was speaking to. He nodded. There was no need for this man to fear theft from him. It was the smith who had to make sure this man got what he paid for.

“I'd say it should be ready in about a dark moon's time. That suit you?” Ta'rak nodded, pushed the silver and the stone across the counter and walked off. The smith quickly gathered up his pay and the stone to put it in his locking chest for security. Many people knew he had the chest, but what they didn't know was that he was able to drop the silver and stone into a small secret cubbyhole just beneath the chest. It was just in case the wrong person saw him with the silver. Money was hard to come by, and some people would just as soon take it from him then earn it themselves.

* * * * *

The Soturi shook his head. He was one of the most skilled fighters in his city, a relief guard to King Ky'ran himself, and that was what people tried to do. He looked at his adversary who was laid out unconscious on the ground, then looked at the body of the one who tried to put a knife in his ribs when his back was turned. He lifted his gaze to the Ring's organizer and pulled the big man's ax from the cutthroat's chest. He had heard of the man's prowess with an ax but he thought he might be able to see it in action in the Ring.

The order to strafe right had been barked out at him while he was fighting. His own training compelled him to follow the order and the ax flew past him, through the spot he occupied just a second before.

“That was quite the risk you took, firing that where I was standing. I thought you used the sword.” Ta'rak smiled only slightly. The Soturi knew who trained him. Teuvo was slightly put off by the fact that his life had just been saved and he hadn't known the attacker was there.

“Not really. I knew you were Soturi. You follow orders.” Ta'rak wiped the blood off his ax with a piece of leather before returning it to its sheath. “I tell everyone who climbs into the Ring that if they plan to cheat, plan to die. That one will be hung outside the village, unless you would prefer to do the deed yourself?” The soldier shook his head.

“He didn't show me one bit of respect in the Ring. He would have been executed in the city as well anyway, so what does it matter which method is used?” Ta'rak nodded, grabbed the man by the ankle and dragged him out of the ring. He motioned for the matches to start again, the crowds still betting on the outcomes, and the competitors lining up on each side of the venue. He turned the man over to a guard who had him taken outside the village into the forest. He would be cut down in a few hours and the body thrown deeper back into the forest. Good people were sent to their Final Rest. The rest were to be considered manure on the ground.

Ta'rak saw the soldier wandering around the village later, looking at the various stalls, sometimes stopping to admire one of the pieces, other times just walking passed. He caught sight of Ta'rak and made his way over.

“I see you are still undefeated, Soturi. How does the day find you?” The soldier grunted.

“It was a good day for fighters. Some good ones, some bad ones. The bad ones I taught them a lesson or two, the good ones I told them to make their way down to the city to enlist if they wanted to be paid for their skills.” Ta'rak smiled. The soldier in the man rarely did anything that did not benefit his King, even if it was considered free time.

“Back to the city after the competitions?” The soldier shook his head.

“No, I will be going on the Hunt this year.” The soldier did not relax against the railing, but seemed to be ready to switch into a defensive stance in the blink of an eye.

“I don't remember seeing your name on the list going out with me this year.” Ta'rak leaned against the closest rail, and even though it bent under his weight, it still held.

“I'm going as an aide to a merchant.” If there was a sneer in his tone, there was none upon his face.

“Its always good to have a skilled arm in the group. Some folks down south don't realize just how close we come to the bridge, or how close we hunt to the border.” The soldier grunted. He would keep his peace, his reputation for tight lips in Arouna Dell had been well earned. He was a man of action, not words.

Ta'rak took his leave of the soldier, noted the fact that he did not respond, and walked back to the ring to check the area for any weapons left lying around before going home. He felt jumpy for the last couple of days and couldn't put it down to any one thing, so he was exercising more caution then normal. He didn't like these feelings as it normally meant trouble.

* * * * *

Ta'rak walked around the courtyard, and found his wife just inside the doorway with a perturbed look on her face.

“You're late!” Akeena had been tempted to try and find out where her husband had gone, but she hadn't left the house alone since he took her home the night of Furlon's Final Rest. He encouraged her to go out into the village, or at least out on the steps and get some sunshine. She always just shied away from the door, and only stepped out when he was there.

“Supper is ready!” Her face cleared of her anger. She smiled seductively. “And so am I.” Her hands came out, reached around behind his neck, and pulled his face down for a kiss that turned up the temperature. When she told him she wanted him to suffer and miss her terribly while he was on the Hunt, she meant it. He hated the sense of loneliness he felt while she was not by his side, and he couldn't think straight while she was looking at him in that way. It felt like she had sewed herself to him and that to be separate from her would be painful.

Akeena walked away, looked back over her shoulder at the top of the stairs, and slipped an arm out of her dress. He heard the fabric hit the floor after she disappeared into the bathroom. For the first time since their bonding, he didn't feel guilty about his close relationship with Akeena. He didn't think of Jaana, his long dead wife, or Furlon, his best friend. He thought of his wife, and how she rubbed her skin with warm wet sand, and how the water rolled off her skin when she poured a bucket of hot water over her freshly scrubbed skin.

The groan was audible.

* * * * *

Akeena slid beneath the sleeping furs a few hours later. There was a sultry look in her eyes, and her lips had this pout that made his knees go weak. She held up the vial of rose scented oil he had just given to her as a gift. Akeena pulled the fur blanket off her back, her light brown flesh called to him. She smiled and laughed.

“Will you rub this into my back?” Her voice dripped sweetly like honey, the look in her eyes more then telling him what her intentions were.

He felt the chains that bound him to her as surely as any prisoner would. As soon as she smiled at him, touched his hand, or kissed him lightly, the burdens he carried would be as light as a feather, but when out of his reach, the chains pulled him back into that pit of loneliness that he hated.

He groaned as he took the oil. She laughed lightly again. He still did not know how anyone could make love so enjoyable, and so horrible at the same time. It took willpower to crawl out of bed in the morning, to pull himself away from her, and take his eyes off of hers. Ta'rak knew that this Hunt would be his worst one yet. Akeena promised him that.

* * * * *

Ta'rak rode high in the saddle, without a slouch and no off balance movements that would make the ride harder on himself, or the horse. His face revealed only one thing, a lack of patience. Akeena's plan had worked to perfection, and he ached with longing for his wife. He missed her scent, her smile, and her touch at night. The party had only been riding for just over two days, but it already felt like too much to bear.

The road they traveled on was not a well used one, but in spite of the lack of use, it was not overgrown with weeds. The stones were as smooth and unbroken since the time they were laid over two thousand years ago. The most gifted scholars and artisans have tried to figure out how the Fallen paved the road, and what methods their builders used but with no success. Whatever they did to the stones themselves, they could not be pried up from the area they were placed, they could not be dug out, nor could they be marked or damaged.

Ta'rak's level of patience was being tried on all sides. The merchants and nobles grumbled about the distance to the camp, and their pampered behaviors only highlighted his desire to not be on this trip. The Soturi closed up on his right, apparently with instructions.

“I have been instructed to inquire as to when we would arrive at our destination.” Ta'rak didn't hear anything in the soldier's tone, or a hint in his face of the tension that he knew was there. The soldier's white knuckled grip on his sword gave it away.

“We will be stopping in another half a day. This will be a half moon long camp, and once we're there, no one will be permitted to return to the village without permission. This close to the border is not the place for anyone to be in a small group. Remind him of that.” The soldier's grip on his sword eased and he returned to his post with no hint of a smile. His eyes did betray his amusement at giving the merchant the instructions.

Polkkypaa! No clue about where we are going and where we'll be camping! There's no inn out here, and the only one's likely to kiss their backsides will be the riivaaja before they tear a chunk of meat out of it! Patience was a commodity he wished he could buy at a market stall. He was almost out of it.

Ta'rak's thoughts continued to follow dark paths, and if not for the hardships his village would suffer should he just turn around and cancel the event, he would have done just that.

He missed having those dark eyes follow him around, and see those lips turn up in a pout. Ta'rak finally admitted it to himself.

He loved his wife.

* * * * *

“When I said to hit me, if my guard is open, you better well hit me!” Herra Kai was angry. The soldier held his jaw, a surprised look on his face.

“But sir....” He had to duck another swing.

“How am I going to learn anything if you take it easy on me? Do you spar this way with your fellow guards?”

“No sir! They'd hit me too!” The guard had to back away from the angered Herra. Ta'rak smiled as Nongul sat down beside him.

“What's he doing?” Nongul couldn't see why the noble would want to be hit.

“Learning. Watch.” The guard had to duck a few times, but as his defenses were overwhelmed by a man who didn't behave as a noble should, he went from defensive and started to attack. Lord Kai smiled as his hand was rapped with the end of the practice sword. Kai circled, tried the maneuver again, got rapped again, and lifted his sword.

“What did I do wrong? I don't think I am seeing where I'm leaving my defense open.” Ta'rak decided to help the man.

“Remember how his sword came in and flicked sideways? Watch to see where the tip of his sword ends up. If your sword grip is higher then his tip, he can flick in like that. Either step back and reset your defense, lower the angle of your sword, or lower the position. Move with him. Your job is to turn his work against him. Find his weakness.” There was a substantial improvement in his defense, but he still had weaknesses that could be exploited. The guard smiled as Kai managed to deflect his next few incoming attacks.

“You didn't let me block you, did you?” he asked. The guard backed off with a smile.

“Not a chance, Herra. If I could have rapped your hand again, I would have. You need more practice, but its better.” Kai continued to practice with the guards, earned a few more bruises, but several soldiers saluted him respectfully. He had earned that respect.

Ta'rak examined Lord Kai once again from his side of the fire. He was thinner this year, more muscled, and he noticed some bruises still fresh on his arms. He earned those sparring with his local guards. It was said that the Hunt from last year woke him up to the dangers of the wilds and he wanted to be in better shape to deal with them as he got older. It looked like he was well on his way to doing good things with his time.

The rest of the rabble just set his teeth on edge. It was not normally the word you would use to describe the wealthier members of society, but he couldn't see any good qualities, so rabble was what they were to him.

They stank of perfumes, wore linen and cotton clothes, finer furs were used to line their robes, and silver adorned just about every part of their clothes in the form of buttons and tassels. If they weren't mostly fat and balding, they would have been dressed prettier then most of the women of Harm's End.

They also made too much noise for the time of night, and drank too much wine. Not far from where they were set up, Ta'rak had downed a bear with an arrow straight through the eye. It reminded him of just how dangerous this forest could be.

“Ta'rak, there is no activity around the campsite, but I don't want to risk it around here. How many guards do you think we need for the night?” The Kantava Soturi, second in command of Arouna Dell, was as pure an example of a soldier he had come across, and he didn't see any reason to sit down yet. He wasn't asking the question because he didn't know a good number to use. It wasn't his command.

"Four guards in shifts of two hours each are the standard. One at each corner of the camp, with torches, bows and blades. They should be able to wake everyone in case something goes wrong. Assign who ever you think will do the job well.” Ta'rak closed his eyes. “Their lives may count on it." One of the herras caught his last statement and looked up.

“What do you mean that their lives may count on it?” A sneer was in his voice, as though someone would dare to say something to him. He was a herra, a leader, a ruler by birthright, albeit of a poor insignificant village, but a noble nonetheless. Ta'rak opened his eyes, and the intense expression on his face made the noble sit back a bit.

“Should any of them fall asleep in this area of the forest, a bear or wild cat could easily slip into camp and kill before the rest of the guards were awake enough to stop it. Not to mention what can creep across the bridge.” He paled at the mention of the bridge into the Jakt Agor.

“Do what you see fit then. I would like to see the morning sun, thank you.” The herra tried to make it seem like an order that he issued for their safety. Ta'rak didn't crack a smile.

"No need to warn them. They don't do their duty, they die. Same as in Arouna Dell." The Soturi didn't wonder if Ta'rak would indeed kill someone asleep at their post. He was aware that he had no problem executing someone if it became necessary.

Ta'rak sat with his back to a large tree, looked around the fire, and sighed when his eyes rested on Rodan and Nongul. They were enjoying a good mug of wine, and listening intently to Lord Kai's tale of his first Hunt. Everyone seemed to have a good time, everyone but him. He still worried about his wife.

As though he had requested the event by thinking about Akeena, an incredibly powerful wave of energy, black as coal, highlighted in blue at the edges, swept through the camp like a tidal wave. Everyone, except for Ta'rak, threw up violently, and felt as wretched as though they had a hangover. The feeling passed as quickly as it came.

Ta'rak was the only one not to vomit. He felt immense hunger as the wave passed through him.

“I think your wine has gone bad.” One of the soldiers joked after he wiped his mouth.

By mutual agreement, everyone laid off the wine for the rest of the night, just in case they had gotten into a bad barrel. Amid the cursing and swearing, the assorted nobility brushed the vomit off their clothes, and changed their soiled garments. One thing was apparent with the event though. Ta'rak was the only one to see the energy wave.

* * * * *

“Rough night?” Nongul asked. He sat down on the log next to Ta'rak. The big man looked like he hadn't slept at all during the night, even though he did not have any of the watches.

“Feels like I just closed my eyes. When she said she would make me suffer, she wasn't kidding.” Ta'rak stood up to stretch and warm up his muscles.

“My wife does the same thing to me. Get used to it. Wait until you get home! You think you're suffering now!” Nongul chuckled heartily at Ta'rak's groan. He hadn't thought about just how his wife might make his life worse, at least until now. When he returned home, he would need to spend a large amount of time catering to her, and make her feel loved again.

"The Soturi has sent out some scouts to see if they can find any tracks for the hunters to follow."

“Not what I'd have done. I wanted these soft men to learn some lessons. But.... it is a bit better method, to know where the tracks are, and allow the nobles to follow them. Never know. Might be able to cut this session short and get home earlier then expected.” That seemed to brighten Ta'rak's outlook, and he gulped his hot tea, grateful for the sweet taste he couldn't do without. Ta'rak shivered, a chill ran over his skin in spite of the warmth of the sun.

“Something feels....wrong.” He just couldn't shake the feeling he's had lately, the one of some impending disaster. The sensation was similar to an ant walking on your skin and one that he remembered well. He felt this way every time he went into battle.

"Sir!" A guard stumbled into the camp, visibly shaken, his face pale. Ta'rak could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Report soldier." The Soturi's eyes narrowed, and stared straight at the soldier until he drew himself up from his slouched stance and snapped a quick salute.

"Sir, there are tracks! Unlike anything I've ever seen! Huge, deep, like a boar, but ... I don't think it's a boar!" The soldier tried to tell them about the tracks, but he fumbled over his words until Ta'rak stepped up.

"Where are they?" The soldier pointed behind him.

"About two hundred yards in that direction sir! Take your weapons! The beast that made those tracks has to be absolutely monstrous!" Ta'rak picked up his ax, left behind his bow, and ran through the woods. His long strides allowed him to jump over fallen logs as sure footed as a deer running from a predator. The Soturi reached him barely winded, but nowhere near as fast.

"By the Fallen! What could have made that?" The Soturi had never had the misfortune to meet one of these creatures, but Ta'rak was all too aware of what it was. The sheer size and depth of the hoof print showed him that it was abnormally large and heavy. The tracks also seemed to amble along from the direction of the bridge, and barely missed their camp.

“Its Kirosi! From the Jakt Agor!” His face paled. Ta'rak had never fought a riivaaja from the Jakt Agor, but he knew of their destructive tendencies. Teuvo pulled his sword from its sheathe, swept his gaze back and forth, a search for movements that might give the beast away.

“Which way did it head?” Ta'rak followed the tracks for a few dozen feet. They headed south east, along the road that would eventually turn southwards, right along the front of the village of Harm's End.

“Its following the road!” He ran back to his horse as fast as he could manage. He cursed his fingers as they struggled to put the tack on his horse. He barked out orders to the guards, and told them to break camp. They were to head back to the village.

“Ta'rak, what is it?” Nongul walked up to his friend who was frantically doing up the girth strap on his horse.

“Kirosi! It might be heading to the village! I have to track it!”

“Hitto!” Nongul ran off towards Rodan to tell him the news, and cursed Mia for his treachery. “If anyone dies, I'll kill him myself!” He said under his breath. His stout legs carried him fast across the camp.

Amid the chaos, the guards tried to get everyone in some sort of order and the camp broken down. Ta'rak heard nothing. His mind played out the dance of fears and regrets.

I have to get home!

Ta'rak pulled himself up into the saddle and galloped off towards the area where he found the tracks. He slowed to a trot, kept an eye for the telltale signs of the beast, which slowed him down enough for Rodan and Nongul to catch up. They arrived at the turn in the road where Ta'rak had to dismount.

“Where is it heading?” He followed the tracks until he was certain.

“It follows the road! Its heading home!” Rodan cursed loudly. Ta'rak swung back up into the saddle of the large brown sorrel, and galloped off at a frightful pace. His fear and urgency seemed to infect the horse as it ran on.

Rodan could only stare as Ta'rak pulled away as though they stood still.

“What is that around him? Black fire?” Rodan asked.

“If you don't know, how can I? You're the Raaka!” If Rodan did not understand what was happening to Ta'rak, who did?

Ta'rak's eyes turned black, blackened pools of power flowed out of him, and surrounded the horse. The beat of the horse's hooves as it galloped echoed Ta'rak's thoughts.

Faster. Faster. FASTER!

* * * * *

The beast continued its easy lope along the road, oblivious to anything other then its hunger. It couldn't hear the normal creatures that crashed through the woods on its side of the bridge. It couldn't smell any fresh kills that told the pig it was time to fight for food. It would have to search for food, but trails often led to food. This wide trail would lead the pig to food.

Its tongue lolled about in its maw, multiple tusks stuck out from several different angles, ready to skewer and kill its victims. It was hungry.

* * * * *

“I am a councilor! If you don't want to be shoveling manure in the barns for the winter, you'll do as your told! Open the gates, and allow any visitors to come in as they please!” The guard looked uncertainly at the councilor in front of him.

“We are not to keep the gates open, sir. What if there was an attack? The Elder specifically said to keep the gates shut.” He couldn't believe this polkkypaa would open the gates like this. It was an open invitation to come in and steal or kill whoever you wanted.

“The Elder is not here. I am. Open the gates!” The guard shrugged his shoulders and obeyed, as he was supposed to. Mia walked away, and congratulated himself on the victory he had scored against the Elder. He would promote the village's openness to traders and possibly get some more silver to flow through this village. He might then be able to convince the rest of the council to throw Rodan out of the village and place him in his rightful position as his father's heir.

Ta'rak had rightly called him a polkkypaa, an old word for fool, and whatever else a person might call one whose ability to reason was questionable.

* * * * *

“I can do this. I've lived here my whole life! There's nothing to fear with our walls to protect us, is there?” The question was not meant for anyone to answer, but meant to steady her nerves.

Fear dogged her relentlessly as she stepped down off the stairs. This was the first time, since Furlon's Final Rest, that she left her new home without Ta'rak present. It made her feel exposed and frightened.

Akeena looked around the corners of the porch, took note of the pathways, the walks her husband used, then squared her shoulders and stepped into the lane. Ta'rak had encouraged her to do as she pleased, but he also pushed her to find herself again, to find her inner strength, instead of using his. He wasn't mean about it, but he was worried that she would just fall into herself and be fearful of everything for the rest of her life.

“You will be proud of me, my husband. When you come home, we will go to the inn and have a meal. That should please you.” She said it almost in a whisper, uncertain, yet hopeful. She did truly love her new husband, enjoyed his company, and the way he made her feel loved and protected. She smiled.

“I hope you miss me as much as I miss you. Oh, how I am going to enjoy tormenting you when you come home.” She smiled an evil little smile. At the same time, she knew her own hunger for Ta'rak had increased, and that would not make it easy for her to deny him for very long. Probably not much longer then it took him to get out of his clothes and into a bath.

“I miss you so much, Ta'rak! Please come home safe!” She remembered watching him practice the sword in the backyard when he didn't know she was looking. His skill astounded her, in how he moved and flowed like water, and how he relied on his speed and skill, not his strength.

He was still far away, and so close to the Jakt Agor that he would not be home for a couple of cycles yet. She missed him so much that it scared her!

* * * * *

“Its too hot out here!” The heat of the day made the guard feel like he would wilt in his bronze plate armor. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and stained his tunic. It was unseasonably warm for this time of year. Heiketa was the time of decline, when the trees began to sleep, and the local harvests were brought in. He stayed under the shade of the wall, within sight of the gate, and mourned the stupidity of those in power.

A powerful rotten stench assaulted his senses.

“Ugh, what is that smell?” The guard's face lost almost all color when he turned to face the gate.

“Ancient preserve us.” His voice barely came above a whisper. The massive boar was hideous in its ugliness, a monster with hairs so thick that they looked wooden, bony plates lined its spine for protection, huge tusks that jutted outwards at many angles, and red malicious eyes with no trace of mercy in them. It was larger then any boar he's ever laid eyes upon, and more massive then their local bears. It was a few thousand pounds of destructive force, with murder and mayhem on its mind.

The guard barely felt the tusk skewer him as it rammed through his bronze armor. He died quickly in the face of such power.

* * * * *

The blood of the guard dripped into the beast's mouth, out of his wound and down its tusks. The beast shook its head, shredded bronze plate, and opened the wound further. This was only the first of many things to kill here. Its next target walked into sight. The beast threw its kill aside to be eaten later, and pushed forward on powerful legs.

Now, its eyes were on the soft morsel coming around a corner.

* * * * *

Ta'rak rounded the corner of the road, the walls came into sight, and almost felt relief to see the walls still intact. His relief was short lived as he heard the screams from within. His heart beat faster in his chest. He reined the horse in and slid from the saddle.

He stopped dead in his tracks outside of what should be a closed gate.

“Why is this open!” He pulled his ax from the saddle. The wooden gate was undamaged, just left open and free. His eyes regained their color. His horse felt fear for the first time since the insane ride began, galloped away from the gate, and headed for anywhere but there.

Ta'rak walked through the open gate. There was blood splattered on everything in sight. He saw the guard's body, a huge hole in the middle, his armor broken through like it was cloth, and his face devoid of life.

Instincts for battle warred with his panic for Akeena's safety. His grip tightened on the ax, and his eyes darted from place to place. The path of destruction was obvious and easily followed. Wooden posts from the courtyard and the market were splintered off at the base, while the stalls were destroyed as though they were only tinder for a fire.

Ta'rak was a fighter. He took it slow, step after step, followed his instincts, and trusted in his experience to help him. His eyes fell on something behind some unbroken crates, near to the baker's shop.

“No!” Barely a whisper passed his lips, but the sight tore open the wound that would not heal, the pain that never seemed to end. Barely hidden behind the crates, he caught sight of Akeena's dress, one he knew she wore. There was blood all over the crates. He slowly moved closer, that wound now open wide, his misery there for all to see.

The monster that killed her stalked around a corner.

* * * * *

The boar walked towards the courtyard again, its belly no longer empty, and its appetite for food temporarily sated. What it desired now was more death and destruction.

The boar seemed to enjoy the screams of fear around it. The beasts of the Jakt Agor killed for pleasure as much as for food or self preservation. This boar relished the kill as much as any of its brethren.

A much larger target came into sight. It snorted, lowered its head and began to charge.

* * * * *

Ta'rak saw the beast come around the corner. A massive creature with blood stained tusks, and its red eyes fixed on him. There was no fear in him at the sight of the Kirosi beast.

There was only anger.

Ta'rak couldn't remember lifting his ax. He couldn't remember anything but the hatred in his heart for this creature, one of those that stole his love from him, his first wife, his father, and now Akeena, his new wife. He boiled over, anger at the injustice of his losses, and an insane rage at how this thing dared to kill another of his loved ones.

Power he didn't know he had began to bubble up inside him, a spring filled with energy that seethed like a hurricane. It flooded his limbs, and powered his muscles with a strength that had not been seen in over two thousand years, not since the time of the Fallen.

His eyes turned black, swirled with static in uncontrolled bursts of energy, the black aura around him grew larger and more wild by the second.

Energy poured out of him like a river that burst a dam, varied and out of control. Static discharged throughout his aura, flashed like lightning within a thundercloud, flames randomly swept out from side to side, while the wind howled around his feet and roared in anger at the beast as it charged.

* * * * *

A'ton came around the corner, the sword his friend had given him in his hands. He knew that Akeena had left the house only a few minutes earlier, but he heard the screams. Without hesitation, he picked up the sword and headed outside, all the while, Colli yelled at him to come back, tears streamed down her face.

The houseman walked with his sword at the ready, tried to keep his head while he surveyed the level of destruction he found outside the manor. A'ton tore his eyes away from the bodies, pushed himself forward, and refused to allow any level of fear to penetrate his resolve. He remembered the hours Ta'rak spent with him, how he drilled him, practiced the blade. He taught him lessons that came second nature to Ta'rak, but were a struggle for everyone else.

He needed to protect Akeena. He needed to make sure Ta'rak's last chance at happiness didn't die today. What he witnessed chilled him to the bone.

* * * * *

The power he wielded was not disciplined, and it lacked the rigid control that a Raaka exerted over his elemental abilities. If anything could be called Hajjakar, random  divine chaos, this was it.

The wind that howled at his feet picked up in strength the closer the boar got to him. Within only a brief second, it went from sweeping the dust into a focused pillar of wind and flame that rose several dozen feet into the air. Ta'rak remained with his feet planted, static flashed, and the sound was like the clap of thunder.

Everything he had, all of the energy he could grab, was focused around him. The winds caught the boar off guard, and caused it to stumble as it approached.

The boar was pushed off course. It could no longer hit its intended target with its first attack. It had to run passed.

In the brief second the Kirosi took to recognize that it could not kill its target, it felt something else. This creature felt familiar. To the denizens of the Jakt Agor, familiarity also meant danger.

With its neck exposed as it ran by, Ta'rak swung the ax with all his strength. The blade never touched flesh.

In his mind, Ta'rak pictured a blade passing through the neck of the beast. Just before the ax connected with the boar's flesh, a pure white light sheered through the beast ahead of his ax. The boar's head flew off, sliced from its body as though a razor's edge had done the job.

As clean and straight a cut a butcher would not find anywhere.

The ax continued its journey downwards, struck the flagstones in a shower of sparks and light. It was embedded up to its handle, and did not crack the stone.

* * * * *

A'ton's jaw dropped. He tried understand what he had just witnessed. Nothing in his life had prepared him for that.

The winds dissipated, the static died away, and the flames ebbed until they too disappeared.

Ta'rak caught sight of his friend, and felt relief to know that A'ton was still alive. The black aura bled away as though it was fog burned away by the sun. As soon as it was gone, Ta'rak crumpled to the ground.

The Ostyragor - Chapter 2 - The First Sign

Chapter 2 – The First Sign

“Shh, its alright. The dreams are over.” Ta'rak kept whispering those words, over and over, but the small woman still shook and shuddered in his arms.

Akeena had tiptoed into his room, slipped under the fur blanket and pulled his arm around herself. She proceeded to tear out his heart as she sobbed helplessly against his chest. He did the only thing he could do. He held her tightly and let her cry.

Early in the morning, he carried her back to her bedroom, still asleep, covered her with a blanket, and went back to bed to try and get a few hours of rest.

For the next three nights, she softly paddled into his room, crawled into his bed, and used his strength to get the comfort she needed to get some sleep. On the fourth night, when it was time for bed, he carried her to his bedroom. She cried herself to sleep, comforted as he held her close.

* * * * *

A'ton cringed visibly as he heard his wife mutter under her breath. She watched as Ta'rak carried the widow upstairs, and the look in her eyes was dark and thunderous.

“Let it go, Colli.” A'ton's his tone patient as he watched his wife storm through the kitchen.

“You saw her tears! Its too soon for her to be in his bed!” She turned back to the dishes, placed the large copper pot in the tub of water, and set a brush against the remains of night's supper like it was an enemy who dared to get too close. “She's leski! A widow! She's too upset! She might do something she would come to regret, and then where would he be! Closer to the Jakt Agor is where it would push him!” Bang! The remainder of the sauce stuck to the pot was no match for an angry housewife from Harm's End.

A'ton shook his head with a smile. Both of them cared for Ta'rak, and he could see almost a mothering love that burned within, but she was ten years Ta'rak's junior. He's had to endure much in his lifetime, and he should not have to deal with well meaning meddlers.

“Let it go. He can handle his own battles.” She turned on him, a snarl on her lips.

“A pretty young woman wraps herself all around him, the first one in a decade, and you think he can handle it? Men!” A'ton's eyes opened wide as his wife's anger turned against him. “He's more vulnerable then she is! He lost his wife, his father, and now his best friend!” Tears formed in her eyes at the thoughts running through her mind, her compassion obvious to anyone who would care to look. “He has no other family now.” She said it softly, but just as quick, her eyes became angry again. “Now that she has no family, they will have too much in common! What happens if he falls in love with the woman? She'll kill him even worse then when Jaana died. You didn't see it, A'ton! You didn't see what it did to him when she died!” Colli continued to slam pots down on the counter, punctuated her statements with a bang.

A'ton stare hardened. He hated when he was angry at Colli, but if he didn't stop her quickly, she would say something she would come to regret. He didn't want his wife to feel even worse now that their friend was dead.

“It is his life to live, and his heart to lose! Leave it be!” Colli turned, her lips still pulled back in a growl, but when she looked A'ton in the eyes, she knew that he would be unmovable. He would not back down if he thought he was correct, in spite of her feelings on the matter.

“Alright, alright, I just don't like it when things change so quickly.” A blush found its way onto her cheeks as she looked her husband in the eyes.

His blue eyes pierced right through her anger, and she remembered why she loved this man so much. In spite of his obvious good looks and muscular frame, he loved her, and choose to bond with her. After ten years of being bonded, he could still make her smile and blush like a young fresh faced girl not yet a woman.

Colli turned away, still blushing, and honestly hoped that the young woman wouldn't take advantage of the big oaf, as she called him sometimes. A'ton came up behind her and wrapped his large arms around her middle. Colli laughed when the stubble of his beard brushed against the back of her neck.

“Come. Ta'rak wants a family. Lets go try to fill up this home with babies.”

* * * * *

“I don't understand! Why do you want to do this?” Ta'rak was baffled. Akeena had just told him something that put his head in complete fog.

“I want us to be bonded. I can't live here, sleep in your bed, and be considered your wife until we do the ceremony.” Akeena said it plainly, but there was more to it then that.

“You don't have to go through the ceremony! That's what Avio'Lanko means.”

“No, that's what Avio'Lanko Valmiina means.” She stomped her foot in anger.

“I know that!” He snapped irritably. “You get to behave as my wife and have with no extra demands put on you. You get taken care of, regardless of whether or not you fall in love with another man, or you don't fall in love with anyone.” She had just managed to stop crying for a day, and last night was the first night she hadn't cried herself to sleep in nearly a week. Why did she want to do this now?

“It isn't just about me!” She snapped back. “You are in this relationship too!” He was taken by surprise when she turned on him in anger.

“It IS about you! My feelings don't matter! I am doing this so you can be protected!”

“It is about you too! I sleep in your damned bed!” She was as prickly as an angry cat, and she fairly spat the next sentence at him. “I am no huora and will not be treated like one in public! If people find out I sleep in your bed but we aren't bonded, do you know what they will think of me?” She looked ready to cry, her anger had started to subside, but the tears she held in check were ready to drop in an instant.

I sleep in Furlon's best friend's bed! How can I do that if we aren't bonded? This gentle bear will never hurt me, and he's so much stronger then Furlon. He would never get killed and leave me alone like that. But why does he have to be so handsome? She silently berated herself for her feelings, and desires, but they would not go away.

The bonding will make it right again. It must make it right! She looked up at him and saw the anger in the depths of his eyes, but it wasn't directed at her.

“If they dare say anything, I will make them meet their Final Rest faster then they would like!” Ta'rak's faced closed in anger at the thought that anyone would dare say something bad about Akeena. She smiled at how quickly Ta'rak would stand up for her, and took some comfort in his already firm loyalty.

“And what if you find someone else? Where would that leave me?” The fear she felt was now revealed. That question had plagued her since he offered her the position of his wife.

“I've already given you Avio'Lanko! To even think about leaving while bonded to you is unthinkable!” He got up from the chair and paced around the room. How dare she infer that he would ever leave his vows!

“Then bond to me! If you won't leave me unless I leave you, give me Kilhaus! Give us that year to find out whether or not we'll be together for life, or just until someone else 'catches' my eye!” As if she would be so fickle to fly from man to man, from bed to bed! She walked over to stand in front of him, looked up, and when he seemed to waver, she reached up and grabbed him by the beard.

“Yes or no? Bond to me!” He had to stare into her lovely liquid brown eyes, seeing them flash fiercely. For such a small woman, one who's already been through so much, her will was strong, and more then a match for his. She dominated him so quickly that he couldn't think of any type of response or argument against her suggestion. Just like Jaana.

“Alright! Fine, if that is what you want! I'll perform Kilhaus and bond to you!” She released the hair on his chin, allowing him to rub the pain from his face.

She lifted her eyebrow, and planted her hands on her hips.

“Oh. You mean now.”

* * * * *

Polkkypaa! They don't even know how to hunt! They don't even remember where they were hunting! We were close to the Jakt Agor, not outside a tavern! Ta'rak seethed inside, and his thoughts raced.

Every year was the same as the one before, and every time he came home from the Hunt, he was always in a foul mood. His sword would taste the wood of his practice posts out back and may the Ancient give him enough patience not to kill anyone foolish enough to piss him off while in this mood.

Kyla-Herra Kai, a governor of Stone Hollow Harbor, rode up beside him, and took note of his black mood.

“We've returned, with no deaths, and the only injuries were caused by drunkenness. A fairly successful Hunt, Ta'rak.” He turned to the lord, and there was a slight hint of amusement in his face.

“Successful, in spite of the polkkypaas we took with us, you mean, Kyla-Herra.” The man smiled a bit more.

“Just Kai please. I am not the Herra of Harm's End. I wished to thank you for keeping my fool hide intact out there. I was not prepared for the possibilities of where we were. Those sounds...” The man shivered in spite of the heat of the day.

“Yes. The Jakt Agor. We were quite close. A fact many of your fellow Herras could scarcely grasp.” The man shrugged.

“There are many facts they don't grasp. How much danger they were in every moment we were there is just one more in a long list. Again, I would like to thank you. I will only be staying one night in the local inn, just to give a bit back to your remarkable village for its hospitality. I would like to put my name on the list for next year, if I may.” Ta'rak nodded.

“Come over to the house before you leave. You can sign the list there.” He watched the Herra return to his guard, and noted the respect they gave to him. It was quite the change from their demeanor when he first arrived in Harm's End nearly a full dark moon ago.

Herra Kai had started the trip like the rest of the assorted wealthy leaders and merchants, completely oblivious to any and all dangers the world around them posed. His first night in camp was also the night he began to change. He became rattled as the denizens of the Jakt Agor went hunting for their meal.

Stories of the Jakt Agor have been told for hundreds of years, and like everyone else, he's heard them since he was a child. They went from being just stories to scare children, into living breathing horrors that can and will kill a man if he should come across one on this side of the bridge. He listened to the soldiers, to see how they behaved, and moved. Ta'rak taught him what to look for when he tracked an animal, and he seemed to learn. If anything, that town leader was the only highlight of the whole experience.

The list for the Hunt was already full, for at least the next two years. However, Herra Kai made this trip more bearable, so he would push him into a slot, even if he had to make a new one, or force someone else out.

“Home.” He breathed a sigh of relief when the walls of his village came into view. The sounds of life came over the walls, filled his ears, and told him that everything within was still safe and secure long before he reached the main gate.

One dark moon and I missed her each and every night. Her hair, her scent, and oh, those eyes! What wild eyes she has! The groan he suppressed was from deep within him as he remembered her liquid brown eyes lit up with anger.

Akeena had been bonded to him just before he left on the Hunt. She had insisted on a traditional Kilhaus ceremony. They put their heads side by side, Rodan took a lock of hair from each of their head, bound it with string, and then clipped it from their heads. Rodan gave it to his wife, for safe keeping. It symbolized their union, a loose engagement where they could determine if they would be together for life. If at the end of one year they decided not to formally bond, they could both walk away. If they chose to bond completely, their hair would be braided together. The tied piece was symbolic of a loose engagement that could easily be pulled apart. The hairs of the braid could never truly be fully separated. Once formally bonded, it would be until death claimed them.

The return of the Hunt's participants always resulted in an increase of business at the market. Farmers and merchants were quick to bring their wares out once again. The new inn flourished during this period, its fresh clean rooms were flooded with guests, and its main room overflowed with patrons who only wished to eat fresh food, and drink good wine. Families were reunited with their loved ones, while the hunters happily showed off their trophies. Ta'rak didn't see Akeena among the people in the courtyard.

“Ta'rak! Over here!” Nongul walked over to him from across the square and noted his haggard appearance. Ta'rak didn't miss the healthy chuckle at his expense.

“I see you've been getting as much sleep as the rest of us. You better get home. She's gotten herself so worried that she can't eat or sleep. I guess its to be expected though.” The deep circles beneath Nongul's eyes also showed a lack of sleep.

“Been worried sick over her myself. I didn't know how she would take it, me being gone for a full dark moon. I wasn't far wrong, I guess. You want to come over for supper?” Ta'rak asked hopefully. Nongul smiled and shook his head.

“Going to spend my time soothing my own wife's feathers. May the Ancient protect you.” He laughed wholeheartedly as Ta'rak swore. It was going to be a long night.

He watched Nongul walk away before he turned down his own lane. He missed Akeena, her warmth, and her smile, but he didn't miss the crying. He felt like an unfeeling boar for all the pain he caused her. He walked slowly up the few stairs into his home, and reluctantly opened the door.

What he expected was to have to fold the young woman into his arms and hold her until her tears stopped flowing, and then take the next week saying he was sorry and would not leave her like that for at least another year.

As soon as the door closed, a small body flew across the room, jumped and landed against his chest. Akeena's weight sent him backwards into the door. She held onto his shoulders with her fingers linked behind his head. Her eyes were shining as she pressed her lips against his and kissed him until he couldn't think straight. She had wrapped her legs around his waist, and used his strength to hold herself up while she kissed him senseless.

Ta'rak slid bonelessly to the floor, his legs taken out from under him in surprise. Akeena sat on top of him, and continued to rain down kisses on his unprotected face, with barely any room for him to breathe. She lifted her head, smiled down at him, then grabbed his beard.

“Don't leave me like that again.” Akeena was a complete mess. Her face was stained with tears, her hair matted, her dress looked salt stained from sweat, but her smile shined more brightly than the sun did while he was on the Hunt. She disappeared upstairs as he sat down in his chair, he face still reflected how dumbfounded he felt. Colli sat a large meal before him.

“He hasn't seen her in a whole moon and where has she gone?” Colli hissed when she went back into the kitchen. A'ton chuckled.

“Look out the window and find out.” Colli snarled and turned. She watched as Akeena pulled a bucket of water out of the well and walked up the back stairs so she wouldn't be seen. She was getting herself enough water to get cleaned up, and hadn't asked for help.

“Let her be. She needs to do this.” For the first time he could remember, Colli was speechless.

* * * * *

What is she thinking? Ta'rak lay beside his wife, a slight smile on his lips, a bit of sweat starting to appear on his forehead. Its been over a decade since he's been intimate with a woman, unable to get beyond the greatest love of his life. For Akeena, it had been less then a year. After they bonded formally early yesterday, it was only natural for her to want to consummate their relationship. How did she feel about this?

Her hand began to trace the outline of his bicep, and slipped her leg seductively over his. Then she giggled.

“Don't think I'm going to wait for another decade while you regain your strength!” Her voice turned sultry, silky, and her tongue traced the outline of his ear. A shiver went down his spine. “Come here.” She whispered into his ear.

It was going to be a long, but pleasant night.

* * * * *

“I don't want you to go and leave me alone again!” Akeena's eyes were shooting daggers, her arms crossed over her breasts, standing with her back to him.

If he thinks I'm alright with him leaving for another full dark moon, he's an even bigger polkkypaa then I thought he was! She tapped her foot angrily.

“I have to go! I go every year because its my Hunt! This is important for the village!” Ta'rak ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Harm's End needs the Hunt every year! If I suddenly say that I am canceling it, do you know how many people will suffer as a result?” She turned back to him, her eyes flashing angrily.

“And what about me? Don't I count? I will suffer because you are leaving me alone again!” Akeena uncrossed her arms, threw her arms wide and glared down at him while he sat in his chair. After she dramatically raised her arms, she laid her hands on her hips, daring him to say she wasn't important.

“Of course you're important to me! Your my wife!” A blush came to her face, followed by a slight smile when she heard him declare her title possessively. It felt nice to be able to hear that once again, being a man's wife. Not just any man but Ta'rak's wife. “I also know it will be lonely for you when I go on the Hunt. Even though I was surrounded by people while I was gone last year, I only wanted to be home, here, with you! My armas.”

Armas. Beloved. Her eyes turned smokey, filling with desire, a response to the knowledge that he wanted to be near her, even back then. She didn't know why this man made her feel this way, and so often. In the beginning, the closer she felt to Ta'rak, the more pangs of guilt Akeena would feel. She would sleep beside him, for comfort and end up feeling guilty that she could draw on that comfort. Over the next couple of dark moons, she found the man easy to get along with. She enjoyed his company, and would seek his scent in his discarded clothes when he was no where in sight.

I love him! No more guilt over loving him. After six dark moons, we are finally bonded, and he wants to leave me alone again!

From the day they were bonded, its been a wild horse and carriage ride, with bumps and surges, and all associated with her feelings for Ta'rak. They were so intense that she was terrified something would happen to him. If he were to die, her life would become so bleak and empty that she couldn't picture herself wanting to live for even a moment.

“But you're still going?” She asked, eyes still hazy with desire.

“I have to.” He replied miserably. For the first time in the last ten years, being on the trail, which he enjoyed immensely, was less enjoyable then being at home.

“Then lets see if I can make this Hunt as miserable for you as it will be for me.” She slipped her arms out of the sleeves of her dress, and dropped it to the floor.

His eyes went wide as his wife walked closer, her dark skin glistening in the candlelight, and her eyes reflecting her hunger.

“Just how energetic are you feeling tonight?” She looked up at him through her lowered lashes, and heard him groan. Akeena planned to make him so exhausted, and so wrapped around her over the next couple of dark moons that when he left for this Hunt, he would never think about leaving her alone again. She would make him long for her to the point that it would be real pain. That would teach him for leaving her alone again.

Ta'rak lowered his lips to her neck and kissed the spot he knew drove her wild. He missed her smile, an evil little smile that spoke volumes about how she would make him suffer.

* * * * *

“This is how our markets should be!” Nongul looked around appreciatively.

The market bustled with activity and promised to keep going for another cycle or so, while the assorted nobles were out on the Hunt. Their families and other retainers would browse the stalls, and bring much needed silver to the inhabitants of Harm's End. Everybody seemed to be in a good mood. Smiles weren't plastered on, and the hopeless looks of last year were a thing of the past.

“Ho, what's this? Rodan? Oh oh, he looks angrier then a hornet! Better go see what has him so riled up.” Nongul watched him stomp around in front of the manor, the veins on the sides of his head bulged as he ground his teeth, and muttered as he walked. He couldn't imagine what had him so angry. He decided to find out what had him muttering to himself like a sekopaa, a madman.

“Rodan! How does the morning find you?” He waved to him as he walked in between a gap in the posts in front of his home. He had to sidestep quickly in order to avoid a cart being pushed through the courtyard, loaded with lumber for the stalls in the common square. He gave a sour look to the man who pushed the cart, who only shrugged his shoulders, barely able to look over the top to actually see anybody ahead.

Nongul finally cleared the courtyard, entered the small square just in front of the Elder's home, which was only a couple of yards wide and deep.

“That sekopaa convinced the rest of the council to send me on the Hunt this year!” Nongul's face dropped the smile like it had never been there, and his gaze turned cold. He turned and gripped the top of the closest rail of the fence.

“No need to ask which idiot did that.” Rodan could hear the well oiled leather of Nongul's gloves squeak on the rail, his grip was that firm. “That makes three councilors who were not involved in the decision, including the Elder. I don't like that one bit.” The metal in Nongul's tone startled Rodan a bit. Nongul usually didn't get too deeply involved in the politics of the village. Apparently Mia had stepped over the line this time.

Rodan had a thought and smiled. “Who gets to tell Ta'rak?” Nongul smiled a nasty looking smile in response. He was a brave man, but he wasn't stupid and to send the Elder on this Hunt would be one of the dumbest things any village council could do.

Nongul shook his head of the idea that took hold, not wanting his friend to spill blood, even if it was sometimes necessary. “I think we should go over and find out how he's doing. If he's in a bad mood, we might want to wait, or we might have a state service this year.”

“Tell you the truth, he hasn't really been in a bad mood during this last year, has he?” Ta'rak did smile easier this last year, and one hardly left his lips.

“No, he hasn't. Its a shame his new happiness had such a high price.” Nongul had to step aside for a small group that walked through the courtyard, obviously visitors from the city, as they took in the more humble and rustic nature of the village.

Ta'rak was on the front porch and pulling up a chair when they came around the corner. He had a large mug filled with his favorite blend of tea that the inn brought in for him. Very few people knew the man behind that grim face, but the woman he cared for had him wrapped around her little finger already, and she made him happy to care for her. She made him so happy that Rodan couldn't remember the last time he raised his voice.

“Ta'rak, we need some bread for lunch. Do you think you could go get a loaf?” Akeena called from the open door. He looked over and smiled.

“Can it wait a moment? I'd like to just sit and enjoy the sunshine while my tea is hot. There won't be many more days like today. I can feel a chill in the air already.” She came over from the door and kissed him on the cheek.

“Just be sure its still warm. I know how you like it when its still steaming from the oven.” His eyes crinkled as he laughed. It was such a change in personality that Rodan wasn't sure if he had been hit over the head.

“Is he alright? I've not seen him so gentle in the time I've known him,” Rodan whispered.

“You should have seen him with his first wife. He would jump up to do as she asked as soon as she asked. He looked forward to every smile, and every kiss as though it was the last he would ever get. Her death devastated him. His lust for life just died with her.” Nongul sighed. “This is the man I've known for years, and to tell the truth, I am glad to have him back. I could do with a few late nights drinking mead and telling stories the way we used to.” Nongul had not realized until now just how much he missed this man's friendship. He knew that he could count on Ta'rak when it came to support, a sword lifted up in his defense, but there was a lot more to friendship then just having someone's back.

“Hopefully I will get to know that man too. The one I've known was always short tempered, but I must admit he was still solid. If he was your friend, there was no better to have at your side. No better to have at your side or back!” They started walking to his porch again, catching his attention before they even stepped up the first stair.

“Nongul! Rodan! Good morning! How does this day find you both?” Both men fought to suppress a smile at his greeting but couldn't keep it from their faces. His happiness was obvious and infectious.

“Morning, Ta'rak. How is Akeena these days? We barely see her about the village anymore.” Ta'rak motioned to the councilors to step up onto the porch.

“Dear! Nongul and Rodan are here!” He yelled into the house. “You gentlemen are welcome to come to supper tonight. I have a barrel of mead that I want to share with some friends. I'm sure Akeena wouldn't mind having you there either.” He smiled as he heard her approaching footsteps.

“Rodan, Nongul, haven't seen you gentlemen in a while. How are things?” Ta'rak pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. She fell into his lap laughing, losing her stern look just as quickly.

“We are well, Akeena. We just came by to discuss some things with Ta'rak and decided to check on you while we were here. How have you been lately my dear?” She turned a stern gaze back on the Elder.

“Don't give me that fatherly tone, Rodan! I'm just as old as you even though I don't have the gray hair to prove it!” Ta'rak chuckled at her sudden rise in temper, having gotten used to how fiery his new wife was. Rodan held up his hands in surrender, smiling while he stepped back a bit.

“Of course, but we still wanted to check on you! Now that we can see you're alright, there's no need to keep you.” Rodan was a little put off by her demeanor, but Nongul would have none of it. He pulled the woman roughly into his arms and hugged her.

“It nice to see that your alright. And don't tell me that your my age!” She laughed at that. No, she was no where near his age. He was a full two decades older then she was, although you would never know it. His age had not caught up with him yet and fifty was still a young age for people in the border lands, growing stronger and healthier the closer they lived to the Jakt Agor.

“I wouldn't dare! I still have my pride you know!” She left the men laughing on the porch, reminding Ta'rak he still had to go to the bakers for bread.

“Ta'rak, I don't know how to say this, but I will just come out and say it anyway. It seems that Mia called a meeting of the council and had them vote to send me on the Hunt this year.” Rodan didn't know what he expected, but Ta'rak's smile left his face almost before he finished.

“He did what? A meeting in which our fellow councilors decided that it would be best not to include us in the proceedings?” Rodan stepped back again, almost falling off the porch. He became momentarily unnerved when he witnessed something he thought he had imagined a year ago. He saw Ta'rak's eyes go completely black. No iris, no pupil, no whites, just a solid black as though there was a void behind his eyes and nothing else. It faded as quickly as it came, throwing the Elder off balance. Nongul stepped into the conversation to fill in the gap Rodan left when he didn't respond.

“Unfortunately yes, they did have a meeting and didn't call at least us two. Did they call you to it?” He couldn't keep the frustration he felt out of his voice. It angered him to be cut out of this decision since he might have been able to remind the councilors about the stupidity of sending their Elder away for even a short time.

Ta'rak shook his head. “No, they didn't. Ring the bell. It is time they remembered a few details about the way things are done in this village.” There was an edge to his voice that sent shivers down their spines. Someone was in trouble.

“Akeena dear, I will be an hour or so, and then I'll be home, and yes I'll get the bread.” He assured his wife. She heard the bite in his tone and would ask him about it later. He walked a steady pace, but one that forced the shorter men to rush to keep up.

A few minutes later, the bell at the Elder's manor could be heard throughout the entire village.

* * * * *

The councilors of Harm's End approached the manor as skittish as cats walking around a sleeping dog. Some of them looked frightened. The one standing at the door, showing them the way in wasn't Rodan. Ta'rak held the door to make sure everyone of them was there. His ax was on his belt.

Once every councilor, including Mia, had seated themselves at the table, Ta'rak entered the room and slammed the door. They knew he was upset, but when he took his seat, they started to murmur. Mia decided that he would berate the Elder for calling the meeting, even though it was his right.

“Rodan, why have you called this meeting? Don't you ...” He jumped back when Ta'rak's ax flew across the room and embedded itself in the post closest to his head.

“You dropped something.” Nongul chuckled evilly, went round the table and pulled the ax from the wood. He tossed it back across the table, and every councilor watched as Ta'rak caught the blade easily. It was a show that he was putting on, and let anyone interrupt him at their peril.

Nongul put his hand on Mia's shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. “Last time I checked Mia, Rodan was Vanhin, not you! As such, he is allowed to call whatever meeting he sees fit to call, and you will jump when he says to JUMP!” Nongul used the Elder's formal title, which raised a few eyebrows and turned Mia a shade not far off of white.

Ta'rak got up, stalked around the table, and tried to get his anger under control. It took a few moments, but when he had his chaotic thoughts more in line, he turned to the table once again.

“I have heard about a meeting, not called by our Elder, one in which the decision to send our Elder on the Hunt was made. Am I correct in that assumption?” He said it was an assumption, which allowed them to correct him if it was untrue. He also drew out the word to highlight the irritation in his tone.

Stig spoke quietly. “We were told that you gentlemen did not wish to come to the meeting. I had no idea that you were not invited.” Mia looked smaller in his chair than he had ever before. He was cowed in front of his fellows, and his power looked like it had slipped through his fingers. This was a careful plan in which he assumed he would be able to finally show the village that he was more fit to lead the council then Rodan. Unfortunately, it appeared that Ta'rak was not going to bend in his direction.

“Was the meeting located here? Has Rodan ever missed a meeting? Meetings are held in his home and you all believed that it was true? Bloody polkkypaa! Are you inferring that I might be stupid enough to believe this load of skeida? Are you sekopaa? No wait, don't answer that question. You obviously are. Who else would think that sending their primary defense on a Hunt where he might be injured would be a damned good idea!” Ta'rak tried to keep himself from yelling, but as his eyes turned black, each word was punctuated with a cold blast of wind.

“No wait, do you take me for a polkkypaa? I would be very careful on how you word any answer, but you had better damned well answer me. Which tolvana thought of this?” Tolvana, polkkypaa, sekopaa, idiot, fool, and madman; all words that applied to the person who arranged this. Everyone pointed to Mia.

“Now Ta'rak, it isn't madness. Its really quite a good idea! Rodan hasn't had a vacation in years! He needs some time off!” He stuttered, and hoped that the big man wouldn't remove his head from his body, as he had very nearly done over a year ago. If he could win Ta'rak over, get him to side with him, then the rest of the council would vote in his favor.

“Do any of you”, Ta'rak tried to keep himself from sneering the word but was unsuccessful, “men know what the penalty is for interference with the Elder's duties within the village?” The assembled councilors swallowed the lump growing in their throat. They knew the price. They could be hung, or executed in whatever way the Elder saw fit, including being burned alive with his power, or to have the Raaka use any number of the skills they possessed to kill them. There was no jail, no dungeon, and no way to serve time as your sentence. You were either exiled, or executed.

“We were told that it was all above board! Mia assured us!” Ta'rak growled at those seated at the table.

“What Rodan says goes, and if he says he will abide by the council's decision, that is his decision.” Ta'rak straightened up, closed his eyes for a moment, and it seemed as if his anger was getting the best of him before he spoke again. “If my wife is hurt, injured, or anything else while I am on this Hunt and Rodan is on the Hunt with us, I am going to end the life of the one, every single one responsible for removing the primary defense of our village. Is that clear?” He turned his black eyes on Mia and pinned each councilor with his stare, one after the other before turning to leave.

“I will abide by the decision of the Elder, and him alone.” He almost spat on the floor, looked at Rodan, and decided against it. “I won't do that in your home, Elder. I at least have that much respect for you. Not that I can say the same for the others in this room.” He stalked out of the hall, oblivious to the arguments that flew around the chamber.

* * * * *

Rodan and Nongul walked out behind Ta'rak, their jaws hanging wide open.

“Is he Raaka?” Nongul was more then familiar with the effects of being a Raaka, and the consequences of their powers for most of his life.

Rodan shook his head. “He did things no Alokas, a novice, could ever do! It is way beyond their abilities, and quite frankly, mine. He spoke, and the winds hammered with his words! I've never seen control like that before!” Rodan was staggered with the possibilities, but there was nothing he knew of that could fit what he had witnessed.

“Did you see his eyes? That's the first time I've seen anything that says he has power!” Nongul shivered. Those black eyes, pitch black with no iris, pupil, or white.

“Like an unlit cave!” Rodan couldn't get the image out of his mind. “Ancient preserve us.”