Undeniable Vengeance

7. Famine

Famine

Chun village, Arangar

Korg 'en Terdra sat alone atop the rocky outcropping, lines of worry creasing the weathered skin of his brow. Despite the biting cold of the wind, the hood of his cloak lay resting upon his shoulders.

For the first time in memory, no Harvest Festival had blessed the lands of Arangar. Drought had drained the life from the Shuthvin Valley, and the most severe winter ever battered the Norkaan Mountains. The snow touched virgin marks on the trees, and rivers that were thought to be ever–flowing had seen the summer pass with cracked beds. The snow promised hope for the following year, but hope did not feed the hungry.

mountains covered with snow

Grief creased deeper lines in Korg's face as he stared at the women gathered in the square below, their garments hanging loosely from frail frames—the wives of Chun warriors reduced to scavenging for roots and nuts and anything else that might serve as nourishment. Only the rats and red-beaks owned less pride.

Korg worried for their survival; the drought was in the second season, and even though snow had fallen twice, the storm seers predicted little abatement.

Marta hobbled on one leg, a basket of roots dangling from a shaking, bony hand. She once carried her husband halfway up the mountain after he had suffered an attack from a shadow cat. The icy wind froze a tear on his cheek. Marta would never carry anyone again, her right foot lost last Prayer Day to the bite of the frost.

Korg rose from the rock and made his way up the trail toward the hut he shared with his wife and children. Long, forceful strides pushed him quickly while the wind whipped the cloak about his frame. Several villagers stepped out of Korg's way, perhaps noticing the set of his eyes.

Sama grew anxious about Korg's return and peered through the tiny crack in the shutters, boarded up to stifle the cold. Worry weighed heavy on her heart for Korg had departed early and in such foul humor. Finally, she saw him. "Kavi, stoke the fire. Your father will be cold. Reyna, prepare soup. Cold fills a warrior with hunger."

"There is little soup left, mother. Not even enough for supper."

Sama's hard-eyed glare found Reyna. "Say nothing, daughter."

Korg's son grabbed an iron poker and stirred the coals to flame, then placed two pieces of wood on top to fuel the fire. "I ate enough this morning to last all day, Mother."

Sama gazed out the window. "Warriors must eat. Now hush. Korg comes."

Korg pushed through the door and stepped briskly to the hearth, rubbing life back into his nearly brittle hands. "Prepare for a journey, Kavi. We must find food."

Kavi's look darted to his mother. Shock marked her face.

"Where will you go, husband? There is no food to be found. Even the animals have abandoned us. Our only hope lies in prayer." Sama's soft-brown eyes teared. "We have offended the Ancient Ones. Their punishment is harsh."

Korg traded his cloak for the heavy fur of his warmest coat. "Take an extra quiver of arrows." He tied a sword belt to his waist, checked the blade, then slid it into the sheath. "And take two knives."

"I always wear two knives, father."

Sama reached out and took hold of Korg's sleeve. The set of his eyes had been hard, but they softened for her. "You can pray, Sama. Pray until your throat is parched if you want, but I must find food, or we will starve, and the Forest Men will claim our lands."

Korg cupped Sama's face in his hands and he looked into her heart. "If you must pray, wife of mine, pray for a deer to cross our path, or a lamb—even a nest of serpents."

Korg laughed at Sama's shocked expression. "I would eat the eyes of a worm, wife—if I could find one. I would even eat a red-beak, but they have disappeared as well with no carcasses for them to pick."

Sama nodded, keeping her head bowed low. "Go, husband. Pack your things. I will help Kavi."

Sama finished tying the chord on a leather sack stuffed with bread, seeds, and a handful of nuts. She buried her head into the heavy fur of Kavi's coat and squeezed him tightly, tucking the sack into the fold inside.

Kavi looked down at her with an innocence that fifteen harsh seasons had not stolen from him. "What is this, Mother?"

A mother's fear filled Sama's heart. “Say nothing, Kavi."

In the corner across the room, Korg remained watchful; the innocence of Kavi's eyes had not sprung from Korg. His old, seasoned gaze had seen most everything, and as he checked the last few arrows, he called to his wife, knowing what she had planned. "We will not take your bread, woman. Empty the sack." His words were as cold as the winter wind.

Sama had managed to restrain her tears until then. "What of Kavi? How will he eat? How will he live? If you care nothing for yourself, think of our son." Tears traced her cheeks.

The ice had not melted in Korg's voice. "We will take none of your food. I have seen enough women with bones showing through skin." Korg slung the second quiver of arrows over his back. "Come, Kavi. We must go."

Sama's eyes glazed over. She ran to the wall and grabbed a knife, plunging it toward her own heart. Korg seized her hand and held it secure. The coldness left his eyes, and his gentle words carried to her on a breath of warm air. "Sama, woman of my heart, why do this?"

Sama didn't let her own gaze fall, and if her voice cracked, her words rang true. "If I am gone you will take the bread. I will not see you and Kavi die because of me."

The muscles of Korg's arm bulged with the strain of holding her, but his face displayed no sign of pressure. "I will take half the bread with me."

"And all of the nuts," Sama said. "I have no need for nuts." She smiled at Korg, but continued pressure on the blade.

Korg held her gaze for only a short moment. Finally, his hardened face cracked, and he smiled. "What good is it to be a war chief, if I cannot win even one argument?"

"You win all arguments," Sama said, "just not with me." She smiled as she took the sack from Kavi's hands and divided the contents. "Husband, how will you find food? Where will you look that we have not already worn the paths smooth from searching?" An exasperated sigh escaped Sama's lips. "Perhaps we should go, too. Go where the sun is kinder, and the gods are not so sparing with the gift of rain."

"We will find food, so don't move my hut while I'm away."

Sama pushed the largest portion of bread into Kavi's sack, then retied the chord, securing the pouch. As she handed it to Kavi, it must have struck her why Korg was so confident of finding food.

"No!" she screamed. "You cannot go! You cannot take Kavi!" Sama threw herself at her husband's feet and wept. "Please, Korg? No one returns from there." She clutched his coat with both hands and begged. "Do not take my son. Please? He’s my only son.“

Sama's distress disturbed Kavi, but he didn’t let it show. "We will return," he said. "And with food." He laughed. "No two warriors such as this have ever gone to the Paaren. We will come back."

Sama knew her son's courage to be an act but played her part well. Summoning all her strength, she stopped the tears and forced a smile but all the while fought to control sobs. "I will keep the fire warm until your return." Sama squeezed Kavi as hard as she could and placed a warm kiss on his forehead. Then she turned to Korg and kissed him for a long time.

"That should warm me for days," Korg said, and held her tightly. Tighter than he ever had before.

Sama cried, but she would not let the tears show. "Go, my husband. I expect meat on my table by the next seventh day."

Korg laughed lightly, but his smile was genuine and warm. "Sama, when you go to face the Ancient Ones, and they ask who you will have as Eternal Mate, I only pray the name that springs from your lips will be Korg."

Sama smiled again, and this time she didn't have to force it. "Husband, I can give my answer now. When the Ancient Ones ask, I will say that I choose Korg 'en Terdra, War Chief of Chun, greatest hunter in the Norkaan Mountains and fiercest warrior in Arangar."

Korg's eyes lightened and moistened; then he kissed Sama again before leaving the hut. Kavi was close behind. As the door shut tightly, Sama released her tears; they flowed rapidly and freely. She wept and sobbed and heaved her shoulders, for she knew she would never again see Korg or Kavi. Not until the Day of Naming when she faced the Ancient Ones.

But that won't be long. We will all die soon. Soon we will all see the Ancient Ones.

Korg and Kavi walked in near silence for five days, the bitter cold making it easier to remain quiet; it was an effort to breathe, let alone talk. They had forsaken all the traveled trails—the ones that led to the old hunting grounds—opting instead for a trail that rose upward toward the crest of the peak.

Korg pointed toward a large evergreen with long-reaching boughs spreading from its trunk. “We should rest here and get warm.”

Kavi ducked under the branches and tucked himself against the trunk where it offered the most protection. He pulled the fur-covered hood from his head and looked to his father. "What is it? You look worried."

"You knew we were going into the Paaren?"

Kavi lowered his eyes and nodded. "All the legends speak of game in abundance in the Paaren, and since we have searched everywhere else, I assumed the rest."

"The legends also speak of demons and death. They speak of no one ever returning. Did you know that as well?" Korg slapped his son's leg lightly, a reassuring gesture. "I won't be unhappy if you choose to stay. No one would question your honor, and—”

"I know, father, it would save mother many tears also. But I intend to return, not die."

They were both silent, lost in the moment. "If no one has ever returned,” Kavi said. “How do we know the game is abundant? If none have ever come back, how do we know that demons and death await us? I say they are stories meant to frighten people." Kavi looked into his father's eyes. "Besides, without food, hunger will take us. Does it matter how we die?"

Korg beamed with pride. "You will make a great war chief, my son. The greatest Chun war chief that Arangar has ever seen."

The cold got worse as they climbed higher along a path that continued to narrow until they could only advance by turning sideways and creeping along the sheer cliffs behind them. Kavi looked down. Far below, he could see the tops of trees that earlier in the day he had strained to look up to. He shivered.

"Kavi," Korg called out loudly, his voice straining to be heard over the roar of the wind. "Kavi, hold onto the wall. Take your gloves off to get a better grip. The wind will blow us off if we don't hold fast. Be strong. We only have a short distance to go."

Kavi knew the legends, all in the Chun villages knew the legends of the Paaren. Its entrance was said to lie at the top of the peak, but what they should look for or where no one knew. Kavi looked ahead. Anything was better than staring down. There were large trees where the narrow ledge opened to a plateau. Solid footing was only a few steps away.

Korg removed his gloves, then took two steps. Kavi carefully removed his gloves and crept onward, each step taken with care. He slid his hand along the wall to find a crack, then slid his feet along afterward. The wind blew hard, threatening to tear them from the ledge, but Korg and Kavi pressed their backs against the wall, holding on for their lives.

Kavi noted where Korg placed his hands and feet so that he could duplicate the moves. Suddenly, his father's eyes went wide in disbelief. Then Korg fell backward into the rock wall of the cliff.

Korg clutched at the crevice with his hand, desperately trying to stop his fall. Kavi grabbed Korg's arm. Miraculously, he was able to maintain balance but only briefly. Korg’s momentum was too much, and Kavi followed him into the sheer cliff, both of them screaming as they tumbled through darkness.