Intended Ch. 03

Jakal bolted up suddenly, heart thumping, body covered in sweat.

In the cool darkness of early morning, he reached over to the woman lying next to him and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Sala, wake up," he whispered urgently. "Sala, we must make ready to leave. Now."

The woman woke immediately upon hearing the insistency of his voice. Shaking her head to dispel the last traces of sleep, she sat up. "Jakal, what is it? What is wrong?"

"The Spirits warned me in a dream," he explained, his pulse still elevated from the unexpected revelation. "We are being tracked, and we must leave now in order to maintain a safe distance from our pursuer."

His companion shivered as much in fear as from the cold predawn. "How do you know? What did they reveal to you?" she asked in confusion.

"I will tell you once we have left. Please, Sala," he pressed, pulling her close to his chest for a brief moment, "we must go. It is no longer safe here."

The couple quickly broke down their camp and had everything packed as the sky lightened to gray, just before the first rays of the sun touched the world.

"Sala, come. Help me move this log."

She followed him without question, though inside she had nothing but questions. What has gotten him so worried that we must leave right now? What did the Spirits say to him?

Squatting at the large end of the log near the fire pit, he gestured for her to pick up the opposite, narrower end.

"We must place this across the river," he explained.

"Why?"

"Because we are going to cross the river and we need it in order to do so."

Sala let out a surprised gasp.

Reading her thoughts, Jakal expounded further. "If we cross the river and then release the log into the water, it will make it more difficult to follow us. Even if the Tracker figures out what we have done, it will take extra time to find a way to do so himself. Do you understand?"

She nodded, knowing his terse response was a result of being greatly concerned, and squatted in front of her end of the log. On his signal, they lifted together and with short, heavy steps lugged it to the river's edge.

"We are going to lift it now so that it stands upright," he told her next, wiping the sweat from his brow.

That done, Jakal turned the log until he had chosen the side he thought would provide the most accurate trajectory. The last thing he wanted was for them to lose it in the river now. Aiming for the opposite bank, he tipped it forward.

The log landed with a thud precisely in its intended place. He squatted again to check the amount of overlap on each side. Only then did he allow himself a moment to smile, however briefly.

He turned to Sala. "I will first throw our packs across the river. After that I will go first to make sure it is safe. If it can hold me it will definitely hold you."

The more she heard, the less she liked this plan.

"The log is too small to safely walk on. That means we have to crawl across, wrapping our arms and legs around the trunk, until we reach the other bank. I will show you how it is done. Do you have any questions?"

Too many, she thought, but he was not in the mood for playful banter. The sunrise had given way to the full light of day, and she knew he had hoped they would have been gone already. So instead she shook her head.

"Good. Let us pick up our packs and move on," he said.

Despite the weight of the packs, first one and then the other cleared the river by a wide margin, hitting the ground opposite from where they stood with a thump.

Jakal looked down at Sala to gauge her reaction. She is nervous, he thought, noticing her elevated breathing and trembling hands. Though he continued to feel a sense of great haste, he knew it would make no difference if she were too fearful to make the crossing. Reaching for her, he took the woman in his arms and embraced her. After a moment he leaned down and kissed her softly.

"You will do well," he told her confidently, gazing into her eyes. "Remember, anyone who can elude me for five days is certainly capable of crossing a single river."

Sala smiled at the little joke he made to reassure her and nodded. "Very well. Let us begin."

Lowering himself to the ground, Jakal laid his body face down along the top of the trunk. Wrapping his arms and legs around its girth, he brought his knees forward toward his arms. After that he slid his arms forward; repeating these actions he slowly but steadily worked his way to the other side.

He smiled at her encouragingly and nodded.

Wishing she felt as confident in herself as he did, Sala took a deep, calming breath and embarked. The first thing she noticed was the roiling, swirling surface of the river as it swept past her prone body, a mere arm's length away. The waterway had always been a comfort to her; in a way she considered it her second companion as they camped along its bank.

Now, it no longer seemed to be the nurturing friend that anchored what was for her some of the most extraordinary days of her young life. Rather, the bubbling water appeared angry, taunting, waiting for her to be swallowed and washed away in its churning depths.

Jakal saw her frozen halfway across the river, arms and legs locked around the trunk. He dared not get her for fear the log would break under both their weight.

"Sala, you are nearly here," he called to her calmly. "You only need to move forward a few more times and you will be with me on the other side."

"If I fall it will swallow me!" she cried out in a panic.

"You will not fall," he continued steadily. "I will help you. Are you looking into the water?"

"Yes," she squeaked.

"Close your eyes, Sala, and listen to my voice," Jakal replied soothingly. "Slow your breathing for a moment." He waited. "Keep your legs locked together and slide them very slowly toward your arms. Yes, exactly like that. Now, keep your arms locked together as you have your legs and slide them forward just as slowly."

Her eyes screwed tightly shut, Sala tried to concentrate on the sound of her companion's smooth voice beckoning her toward him rather than the roaring of the river beneath her. It felt she had been on that log forever, but she forced herself to focus on his voice as it grew closer and closer. All at once she felt strong arms lifting her onto solid ground. Her legs wobbled as she tried to regain her footing, and the man held her until her shaking ceased.

"You did well, my brave, beautiful woman," he said admirably, stroking her hair.

Jakal kissed her with great affection and then turned his attention to their makeshift bridge. Lifting up the end on their side, he pulled back until the large end on the other bank splashed down into the water. He then flung the end in his hands forward, and with another splash, the couple watched the log slide downstream, floating and spinning along the surface of the unceasing river.

Before heading upstream, the Tracker led his companion straight into the forest. They walked among the trees for some distance; from there they gradually worked their way back toward the grassy strip of land between the forest and the river's edge. The man explained they did this to hinder their pursuer's ability to quickly determine their course.

If they had immediately walked upstream as soon as they passed over the waterway, the other Tracker might be able to read those signs even without crossing the river himself. If that happened, he might just follow them on a parallel route from the opposite bank. By entering the forest, they provided their pursuer with a false sense of the direction they traveled. He would likely pick up their trail eventually, but this strategy would slow him down and give them more time.

Sala and Jakal walked at a brisk pace all day, barely stopping to eat or rest. The closest Camp was that of the Fox Clan, about three days' distance; if they hurried it might be possible to arrive sooner. The man was glad this Camp was closest to their location. The Fox Clan's Spiritwalker had been a long-time friend of their old spiritual leader.

Last year at the All-Camp Gathering, Jakal had managed to slip away from the crowds in an attempt to escape the oppressive throng of women from seven Clans clamoring to share his furs. All he could think of was walking straight out the Gathering and not stopping; one Camp of women was bad enough, but seven became too much to take.

Moving stealthily between dwellings and other shelters, deep in thought, just as he made ready to turn a corner he heard the impassioned voices of two individuals locked in verbal combat. He knew he was infringing upon a private discussion -- they would not be conducting it in an out-of-the-way place otherwise -- but when he recognized one of the voices as his Clan's very own Spiritwalker, curiosity got the better of him.

Though the two spoke with great force and conviction, their voices were so low he could barely make out any words. Guilt overcoming his curiosity, the Tracker decided to retreat and find a different route. Suddenly, a voice was almost upon him and he quickly hid just inside the entrance of an empty dwelling. The voice, a woman's voice, approached ever closer.

"You are a great fool, Spiritwalker," she said dismissively. "May the Spirits one day open your eyes to your own folly."

After they passed, Jakal finally felt safe enough to see who had spoken to his Clan's spiritual leader with such disdain. It was the very woman they now hoped would perform their clandestine joining ceremony.