Intended Ch. 09

Although the weapon he held in his hands caused plenty of damage, the Spiritwalker wanted the gratification of feeling her flesh cleave under his. He switched to his fists, pounding her with all his fury, spittle flying from his mouth as again and again he bloodied her face until she could barely see, her eyelids puffed up so that only slits remained.

The young woman stopped struggling, though it took a time before his rage subsided enough for him to recognize that she had lost consciousness. After one last kick to the side, the shaman yanked her limp body up by the hair, snapping the thong of Sala's bonding pendant as he slung her around his shoulders. With some effort he squatted briefly, picking up the shaft of his broken spear. Throwing the main section of the now-useless tip deep into the forest, he kicked away the remaining shards under the dense foliage, and angrily stomped back to the place where he had left his clothing and pack.

"You think you have suffered, Intended," the Spiritwalker whispered in the ear of the woman wrapped limply around him, gritting his teeth as his swollen sacs throbbed painfully. "Just wait until I dump you in the lake. As you sink to the bottom because of your own pathetic weakness, you will finally understand killing you now would have been a merciful death."

"Spiritwalker," Keta said when she saw the shaman standing at the entryway to her dwelling. "Please, come in."

She gestured to the man to take a seat. "What can I do for you this day?" she inquired.

"As you know, Clan Leader, the death of our Lead Tracker has placed a strain on the spirits of our people, and, I am afraid, on myself as well," he confessed. "I feel a certain sense of responsibility for his accident as I was the one who sent him on the mission. As you know, I have been meditating in the Ceremonial Hut for many days, searching for clarity."

The woman nodded. Though Sedon's death most certainly was an accident for which no one was to blame, nevertheless she was glad the shaman was at last taking some responsibility for his role in setting the events in motion. At the same time, it did not really seem like him to ruminate over past decisions. Typically, once he made a determination about something, he did so without looking back.

"The Great Spirits have directed me to make a spiritual journey to the place where Sedon fell. I believe that a piece of his spirit may remain in that place, perhaps traumatized by the violence of his passing. This may explain why I have had difficulty releasing the matter from my thoughts. As you know I am not a man to brood over mistakes I have made; I prefer to learn from them and move on. If Sedon's spirit has not fully left our world, then it may be his spirit that is trying to get my attention. Hopefully once I arrive I can help the Lead Tracker's spirit to depart for the Other World."

"I understand," Keta acknowledged. That made more sense to her now. "When do you plan to depart?"

"I will leave just before the sun returns the day after this one. You should know I may be gone for several days; I will stay as long as it takes until I am certain that Sedon's spirit is at peace."

"Will you travel alone? I know you usually do for such journeys, but since the circumstances of this one is different..."

He nodded. "You are correct, Keta; I will indeed undertake this task alone."

"How will you find this place?" she asked.

"I spoke at length with Nerin about its location since he was one of those who retrieved Sedon's body. I am confident I can find it easily enough."

"Given recent events, I would like to have a sense of how long you might be gone. Do you think you will be back in a couple of days, or more than that?"

"Well, as I said, I do not know how long it will take. But allow me to do this. If I am unsuccessful after four days, I will return to inform you of my progress. That way you need not worry. But I am sure I will be back well before then," he assured her.

"Very well. If I do not have the opportunity to see you again before you leave, I wish you a safe journey."

"Thank you, Keta," the Spiritwalker replied, rising to his feet. "If you will excuse me, I really must pack."

Jakal's stomach rumbled. He had been working hard all morning and almost the entire afternoon without a break, with nothing to eat since the morning meal. Veba said that the midday meal would be later than usual; had he known it would be this late, he might not have accepted her invitation after all.

Tempted to just call the whole thing off, he thought about going down to get Sala and plan on an early evening meal instead. But he tried to think about the great effort Veba was obviously putting into her task, even if he wished she had not gone to the trouble in the first place, and reminded himself to be patient.

The man waited for a time, and still she did not come. This is ridiculous, he thought. He decided go to her dwelling; if she was not yet ready, he would inform her that they would have to get together another time. He was ravenously hungry and had reached the end of his patience. Besides, before long it would be time for Sala and the others to return, and he hoped to meet her partway so he could tell her about what Keta had said that morning

When he arrived he found the flap tied back as smoke and the smell of charred meat escaped the residence.

"Veba," Jakal called, announcing his presence, "It is Jakal."

Veba jumped, startled by his unexpected arrival.

"Jakal, please come in," she invited, rushing to the entrance with a sheepish look on her face.

"I was checking to see if it was yet time to eat," he explained, trying to suppress his annoyance. "If this is not convenient, perhaps we could share a meal another time."

"No!" the woman blurted. Noting her guest's expression she launched into her explanation. "No, please stay. Everything is almost ready. I am terribly sorry the meal is so late; I was trying to make so many dishes at once I did not pay close enough attention to the meat. I am afraid it is badly burned. But there are parts of it that are still edible, and I have plenty of other dishes for us to enjoy. Please, sit," she gestured to a cushion while she rushed around with final preparations, "and help yourself to some tea. I will have you a nice full bowl before you know it."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he offered.

"No, thank you. Just relax and enjoy your tea," she insisted, untying the flap and pulling the bones inside.

Almost as thirsty as he was hungry, Jakal quickly downed the first cup, barely tasting it before refilling the vessel. It was probably not the most polite thing to do, gulping her beverage without savoring its flavor first, but under the circumstances he was not going to worry too much about it; he needed something in his stomach, now, if there was going to be any chance of them having a semi-pleasant conversation.

Now that he had largely slaked his thirst, the Light-Eye took the time to taste the tea more carefully. It was...not unpleasant; he recognized most of the ingredients, commonly used by his people, though he found the proportions of some a little overbearing. In a way it was almost...too strong, as if she put in far too many herbs in proportion to the liquid, leaving an almost bitter aftertaste. The man's appreciation for his mate's skillful use of flavors increased that much more; Sala really did have a way with food and drink. He would have to thank her for that when he saw her later this day.

"How have the repairs been going?" Veba asked as she sat down beside him, handing her guest a large bowl heaped with several servings of cooked greens and tubers as well as a hunk of the rather dry-looking roast.

"Pretty well, though I suppose we will find out if we missed any leaks next time it rains," he replied after swallowing the food in his mouth. "This is very good, Veba; thank you." Well, everything except the roast, he thought to himself, not that it stopped him from eating it.

"You are welcome. I am sorry about the roast."

He swallowed. "It is fine; really."

They spoke about the weather and other light subjects. Jakal thought it a pleasant enough conversation, and now that he had some food in his belly he was feeling a bit more sociable. However, he did find her manner to be a little...unusual, almost as if she had been drinking fermented beverages. Here and there she would stare off into space or slur a word or two; a few times she actually stopped in mid-sentence, as though she had completely forgotten about what she had been speaking, and started talking about another topic altogether.

"How do you like the tea?" Veba asked, noticing his cup was empty.

"It is...good."

"I am glad to hear that. It is a slightly different blend than I usually prepare," she responded, refilling his cup.

"Thank you. You are not going to have any?" the man commented, noting that she did not get some for herself.

"I already have a beverage," she explained, pointing to her cup. "I am drinking a medicinal tea the Spiritwalker gave me."

Jakal's head jerked up almost reflexively at her mention of the shaman. When his eyes met hers, he thought he detected... He was not sure what it was, but she appeared uncomfortable, nervous. What reason would she have to be nervous?

"You are not feeling well?" he inquired, reaching the bottom of his bowl.

Taking the container from his hand to provide him with another helping, Veba answered as her back was turned to him. "Yes, I...fell recently. I must have...landed funny, because I have been in quite a bit of pain. Our spiritual leader gave me something for it until my body recovers."

"I see," he replied, still a bit wary as he accepted the bowl she proffered. The tea explained why she seemed intoxicated; it must be quite strong to affect her in this manner.

"How is our spiritual leader? I see him so rarely now I almost forget he lives here."

"He seemed...well. I do not see him often either," she quickly added.

"Do you not think it strange he spends so much time in the Ceremonial Hut instead of attending to his people's spiritual needs?" Jakal was unsure, but he sensed something...off about Veba's behavior, beyond even that of the tea's effect. Unless he was imagining it, every time she mentioned the Spiritwalker, she did not look him in the eye.

"He is quite troubled about Sedon's untimely death," she told him. "I think he feels somewhat...responsible for the accident because he sent the Lead Tracker on the mission."

"Did he tell you that?" he asked casually though now he was quite suspicious. This did not at all sound like the man he knew. It might be something he would say to Keta, but to Veba, or any of the rest of them? He was far too proud a man to reveal such vulnerability, as insincere as Jakal knew it was, to just anyone. The shaman considers himself superior to the rest of us, he thought. He would never say such things unless it served a specific purpose.

"Well, um...n-no, no, not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"N-no, he did not say that word for word."

"What did he say?" Jakal persisted.

"W-well, he left to go visit the place where Sedon fell; he said it was a spiritual journey to help the Lead Tracker's spirit. Why do you care so much about what he does anyway?" Veba asked defensively as she berated herself. She had the distinct feeling the Spiritwalker would be very angry with her if he found out she had told the Light-Eye this.

After a time, the woman had begun to think something was strange about the shaman's requests to watch and report on Sala and Jakal's activities. There had to be more to it than simple concern for Sala's spiritual well-being. She became even more convinced of it when he acted almost happy after she told him about the accident on the lake. What he expected of her today was stranger still, but she had quickly learned things were much easier for her when she avoided asking questions. The tea made it easy not to ask questions.

Nevertheless, watching the couple so much lately had only fed her resentment toward Jakal's mate. If she had done her duty instead of running off to bond with the Light-Eyed One, Sala would be the Spiritwalker's mate now and he never would have beaten her so brutally. Maybe he even beat her because he was still angry about what Sala had done to him.

Furthermore, if it were not for her selfishness Jakal would still be available, but she had stolen that chance from the rest of them, from her. Now she herself was trapped in this intense, yet frightening relationship with the shaman. Why should she care about the reasons why he wanted her to spy on them? As long as she did what she was told, he did not hurt her -- aside from their pleasures -- and he kept giving her more of the pain-killing herbs that made it all bearable.

Something felt wrong, very wrong. Without answering her question, the Tracker pressed on. "When did he leave? Do you know when he left?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Please, this is important. Do you know when he left?"

She shook her head.

"What else did he tell you about this 'spiritual journey'?"

"N-Nothing. He did not s-say anything else."

Jakal leapt to his feet. "Veba, what you are not telling me?"

"I, I do not know what you mean."

"What I mean," he clarified, his tone hard, "is that ever since you mentioned the Spiritwalker, you have been acting as though you are hiding something."

"You are mistaken," she asserted, struggling to maintain his gaze. "Y-you are the one who is so fixated on our spiritual leader; I think you are imagining things which are not there."

"If that is the case, then why do you look so guilty, even as we speak?" he asked pointedly.

"I do not know what you..."

"Stop lying to me!" he demanded, crouching directly in front of her, staring darkly into the woman's eyes. "By the Spirits, Veba! The Spiritwalker wants to kill Sala; if anything happens to her and I find out that you..."

"He left this morning," she blurted in spite of herself. "That is all I know!"

"I do not believe you," he stated bluntly, trying to hold her shifting gaze. "Did he threaten you? Harm you in some way? Why will you not tell me what you know? Sala's life depends on it!"

As she stared emptily across the room, a battle waged inside the medicated woman. Part of her screamed to unleash the secrets she held within herself, to bring to light the abuse the Spiritwalker had inflicted upon her. And as much as she did not like Sala, she did not actually want her to die. But two more voices fought to drown it out. That of the shaman, promising the severest of punishments should she betray him, and that of herself, concerned only with self-preservation.

How could everything have gone so wrong? The Spiritwalker promised her that if she precisely followed his instructions she would be rewarded. She did everything he said, but it did not work. She did everything he said, but still he would blame her for failing him, and she would suffer...

Suddenly she remembered. The tea! She forgot to put the rest of the herbs into the tea! When Jakal showed up unexpectedly she was so flustered that she completely forgot about it. How could she have made such a mistake? Now the Spiritwalker would surely kill her! What was she going to do? What was she going to...

"Veba!" Jakal shouted, his voice strangled in panic as he shook the woman by the shoulders, snapping her out of her daze. "Are you listening to me? I need your help!"

"You must protect me! He is going to kill me!" she suddenly burst out, her subconscious making its choice. She looked at him desperately, her eyes full of fear.

"The Spiritwalker? He threatened you?"

Veba nodded, tears breaking through the fog of her mind. "You must help me; he is going to kill me. I know he is going to kill me..."

The Tracker put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He knew he must make haste, but he could see how frightened she was, and he was not without compassion. "I promise I will do everything I can to help you. But if we are going to defeat the Spiritwalker, I need you to tell me what you know."

"A-about a moon cycle ago, h-he came to me," she stammered, tears streaming down her face. "H-he...he asked me to watch the two of you, especially Sala. H-he said he was worried about her spirit becoming sick again. I had to tell him everything I heard and saw every day. That is all I know. H-he would not tell me anything else, and...and I was too afraid to ask."

"Veba, I must go and find Sala, before..." He could not bear to finish the thought. "I want you to do something. I want you to go find Belak, Kitad, Nira or Ritol and tell them what you told me. Stay with them; they will keep you safe. If you cannot find them, go to Keta. She can protect you."

"But you promised you would protect me!" she wailed. "Do not leave me here alone!"

Jakal stood up. "I am sorry, but I cannot abandon my mate, and I cannot protect you from the Spiritwalker if we do not stop him. Do you understand that?"

Reluctantly the woman nodded.

"I must go now," he informed her, opening the flap. "Do not forget what I have said. My friends will help you. Go to them, Veba; they can be trusted."

"Wait!" she cried out.

"I cannot stay with you any longer..."

"The Spiritwalker said I was to invite you to eat with me on this day," she interrupted. "He provided the herbs for the tea you drank. He said it was supposed to make you more...relaxed, to help make our visit more pleasant, but I forgot to add the second bag of ingredients. I thought you should know. You do not seem affected though, so it probably did not work."

Jakal felt sick to his stomach. This was bad; this was beyond bad. The bitterness, the overpowering taste; how could he not have seen this before?

"For all our sakes I hope you are right," he replied, leaving her dwelling.

Racing to his own residence, the Light-Eye grabbed his knife, spear and a few other items, including his fire-making kit. He had no idea how long he might be gone, but he would not stop until Sala was safe in his arms; if necessary he would track by torchlight until he found her. At the last moment it occurred to him that when he found her she might be hurt, so he picked up his haversack.

Because the pack was so heavy and he could not afford to be slowed down, he quickly removed items he hoped would be non-essential, starting with the lean-to and several of the furs. Surveying the room, he spotted the bag containing Sala's collection of medicinal herbs and the bowl he had carved for her at the great river, adding them to his pack. He swung the haversack over his shoulder and tested the weight. Good. Much better.

As he streaked across the settlement in the direction of the woodlands, Jakal scanned the area for their allies. He did not see any of them, but there was no time to look. However, he did see someone who he was certain could be quite helpful.

"Light-Eye!" Ditil called out cheerfully when he approached. "How is your talisman...?"

"Ditil," Jakal interrupted. "I need you to do me a favor. I need you to find Belak, Kitad, Nira and Ritol, or as many of them as you can, right away. Tell them I went to the woods looking for Sala. Tell them I need their help but I could not wait to tell them myself. Can you do that?"

The Lead Carver looked startled. "Of course, Jakal; I am always happy to do anything I can to help. Did Sala have an accident or..."

"Please, Ditil; this is extremely urgent. Do not delay. Please go find them now!"

"You can count on me, Light-Eyed One," the man pledged with a nod, hurrying away.

And with that Jakal swiftly departed.

The Spiritwalker grunted, his body sweating profusely as he dragged his heavy burden behind him over the rolling hills of waving grasslands. He really had hoped the female could have walked at least part of this stretch of their journey, but he had beaten her so severely that even now she remained unconscious.