English: View from Bald Mountain Pass (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
To read the series in order, please visit the Sinner Series Page.
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Rayn caught the animal’s scent before he saw him. He had been careful to stay upwind so that the buck would not catch his scent. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it, then waited.
The buck stepped cautiously into the clearing, ready to sprint at the least sign of trouble.
Rayn drew the bow till the fletching touched his cheek, then his ear. He concentrated on his breathing till he found the calm at the centre.
The buck took another step.
Rayn loosed his arrow. Its flight was true and the buck toppled in the grass a moment later.
He silently thanked the Creator as he retrieved his arrow. The group needed food. The buck’s death would mean life for twenty-three souls, not including Wolf. He hefted the buck onto his shoulders and began the trek back to camp. Wolf joined him along the way with a large hare in his mouth. Thankfully, these mountains teemed with wildlife. Rayn had always been an exceptional hunter and woodsman; but now with his heightened senses, his skills were razor sharp. When he and Wolf teamed up on a hunt, which they did on occasion, there was almost no chance of their prey escaping. It was in this way that they had managed to feed such a large group in these rugged mountains.
The sun was an orange ball sinking behind the mountain peaks as Rayn and Wolf entered the camp. The air would chill significantly once the sun slipped behind the mountains. Rayn’s back and shoulders ached from the weight of the buck. He was glad when Gabriel came over and took the buck from his shoulders and slung it across his own shoulder as if it weighed no more than a little child.
“Another successful hunt, I see,” Gabriel said with a grin. “I’ll take care of dressing that for you. Mara has some stew in the pot. You might want to get some.”
Rayn, usually taller than most men, looked up into Gabriel’s ice blue eyes. Although he was tall, it wasn’t his height that set Gabriel apart. From his broad shoulders to his massive arms and chest to legs that looked as though they would be as immoveable as an oak once planted, Gabriel was simply the largest man that Rayn had ever seen.
“Thanks, Gabriel, I’ll do that.” Rayn said as he tried to rub some life back into his sore shoulders.
“But beware of Mara’s tongue; it’s sharp enough to skin the hide right off of this buck,” Gabriel said as he moved off.
Rayn laughed. “Warning noted.”
Despite his great size, Gabriel moved with the grace of a wolf on the hunt. Strapped to his back was a large warhammer, which he had recovered from one of the Tier’n soldiers. Rayn doubted that he would be able to wield the heavy hammer, but he had seen Gabriel take practice swings with it as if it weighed no more than Rayn’s longknife.
Just then Alyssa came running up. She was never far from Gabriel, or he from her. “Rayn!” She leaped into Rayn’s arms, snuggling into his embrace. After a moment, she disentangled herself and gave Rayn a stern look. “You will get yourself something to eat now, or you won’t keep your strength up,” she said commandingly.
“I will,” Rayn promised.
She screwed up her face and looked at him briefly as if trying to decide if she could trust him. He must have passed her inspection, for a moment later she beamed that pretty little smile of hers and turned her attention to Wolf. “Master Wolf, I see you have also brought us some more food. If you would please come with me.” She hastened after Gabriel, Wolf trotting obediently after her with the hare.
Rayn shook his head in wonder. Wolf did not obediently trot after anyone. Alyssa remained a mystery. As did Gabriel, her self appointed guardian. When they had found Alyssa and Gabriel alive in the ashes of the stockade the day after the fire, neither of them had been burned. Not a single hair or a stitch of clothing had been singed on the pair. It truly appeared to be a miracle.
When Rayn had tried to question Alyssa about it, she had just shrugged her shoulders as if she didn’t understand anymore than he did. When he had pressed her, Willow had intervened and whisked Alyssa away saying that there would be plenty of time to figure it all out later; the little girl was obviously in shock and couldn’t Rayn see that?
Frustrated, Rayn had turned his attention to Gabriel, but had met with no more success than with Alyssa. Gabriel claimed that the last thing he could remember was throwing himself onto Alyssa as the stockade wall collapsed on top of them both. How they had survived was as much a mystery to him as to Rayn. Beyond recalling his own name, the man’s memory appeared to have been wiped clean as a slate. Judging by the size of his massive arms, Rayn thought it possible that Gabriel may have been a blacksmith, but more likely a warrior; considering the familiarity with which he carried that huge warhammer. Rayn shook his head; too many questions and not enough answers.
The ache in his belly and the smell of food drew Rayn to the cooking pot as he continued to ponder the mystery of Alyssa and Gabriel. Mara stood beside a kettle hung on a tripod over an open fire, stirring a fine smelling stew with a long wooden ladle. Hiram, absent-mindedly running his fingers through his scraggly white hair, sat on a nearby stump looking disgruntled. Rayn was grateful for Hiram and Mara. The two had pulled their motley band of survivors together and organized them into a well ordered camp, a task for everyone and everyone for a task. They maintained discipline and order. More importantly, by giving everyone something to do, they had instilled a sense of purpose in the survivors. That was worth its weight in gold.
Mara, a slightly plump woman, had been the cook at Hiram’s Inn before the Tier’n came. Her hair, which she wore in a bun, was speckled with silver. Hiram and Mara were not married, but anyone listening in on the two having a conversation would vow that they carried on like a couple that had been married for ages. From the look on her face, Rayn guessed that she and Hiram had been arguing before he arrived. She spooned a generous portion of stew into a battered tin bowl, giving Hiram a look before handing it to Rayn. “Here you are, dear. I know it doesn’t taste like much, considering we have no spices work with, but it should help keep your strength up.”
“It tastes wonderful, Mara.” Rayn assured her. “I can only imagine the flavour you could coax out of it if you had a full kitchen at your disposal.”
Mara blushed, looking pleased.
“Ah, Rayn,” Hiram lamented. “Don’t go filling her head with all kinds of nonsense about how good her cooking is. As sure as anything, when we get back home, she’ll be demanding a raise.”
“And I’ll most certainly be getting one, you old goat,” she snapped back at him. “Or see how many patrons will come back to your precious Inn with you cooking for them!”
The old man waved his hands dismissively and harrumphed before settling down and noticing the frown on Rayn’s face. “When are we heading back, Rayn? You say that there has been no sign of the Tier’n since the fire. Surely, we can go back. With you to lead us of course,” he added.
Rayn had avoided telling them before now. He was afraid they would have lost all hope. But now there seemed no way around it. Both Hiram and Mara were looking at him expectantly. “Hiram…Mara…There’s nothing to go back too. They burned it to the ground, the entire village.”
Hiram just sat there, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.
Mara stopped stirring the stew and wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. “What will we do now, Rayn?” she asked.
To be continued…
©Peter Wiebe 2013
