The Vengeance of Mirickar Read online

  Mirickar wasn’t sure what she meant about it not being years since she had witnessed whatever she thought was magic, but it was not convincing. Even so, he was undecided. He knew that he wanted to follow the obvious path of returning and hunting down however many kurakvin he could find. At the same time, he didn’t want to leave Sraikura alone in the forest and he didn’t see any way to convince her to go back with him.

  “Tomorrow,” he finally said, frowning. “I will decide tomorrow. We will go together today. Not running, just walking. We can walk more toward the mountains and see if we can find a place for you to safely live alone here. Tomorrow I will decide whether to stay with you or return to my parents’ farm to begin tracking the kurakvin.”

  She scowled darkly at him. “I safe. You safe with me. No back!”

  He gave an exasperated shrug. “Let us walk for now,” he said, not answering her directly.

  They started off again, leaving the rushing stream behind. Without meaning to, Mirickar found himself following behind Sraikura. They did not talk much, but at times he would speak up and remind her to slow her down.

  As he walked, he wondered what was going on in her mind, and how she thought. He wondered whether it was both thoughts and words that were hindered by whatever had happened in her mysterious youth, or if it was only her ability to express herself. She seemed to simultaneously know where to go yet figure out where they were going as she walked. That left him also pondering further her comment about it not being years since she had been in the forest.

  Occasionally they stopped to gather food. As he had predicted, they did not find many berries because it was too early in the year. Those they did find were rarely ripe enough to bother eating. There were still some tips of fresh growth on evergreen trees, which they nibbled on as they walked, and they both had enough experience foraging for wild greens that they did not go completely hungry, even if they were never fully sated.

  When dusk began to fall, Mirickar started looking in earnest for a place to create a temporary shelter for the night. He told Sraikura what he hoped to find, but she showed little interest in helping him locate a suitable place to set up a camp. When he finally found a low spot next to a small rock outcrop, where he thought he could fashion a reasonable shelter by leaning branches against the rock, she looked disappointed that they were stopping but she said nothing.

  Sraikura watched with obvious curiosity as Mirickar started working on leveling the ground at the base of the bare rock. He then looked at the surrounding trees to assess the available branches. The lack of tools made it much more difficult to get what he needed. After breaking one branch off of a tree, he was about to break another one from the same tree when Sraikura rushed over to him.

  “No, Mirickar!” she said urgently. “One. Just one.”

  He looked at her incredulously. “I can’t build a shelter with one branch, Sraikura.”

  She pointed at a different tree. “One.” She then pointed at another. “One.” She then met his gaze. “Forest magic. One tree, one branch. Just one.”

  “That is… no, Sraikura, that will take too long.”

  “One tree, one branch,” she repeated sternly. “You good man, Mirickar. Not bad man. One branch.”

  “I…” His voice faded away. “Very well,” he said, his shoulders slumping. “One branch from each tree.”

  This seemed to satisfy her and she went back to watching him. He had to go farther and it took more time, but he made steady progress. By the time he was done, the light under the tall trees was nearly gone, but he was proud to show Sraikura the results. They would not have much room, but thick moss, leaves, and fern fronds offered padding to make it easier to sleep and a thick layer of branches over them would shed any rain and keep them somewhat hidden.

  “It… nice?” she said after taking a closer look when he was done.

  Mirickar felt immediate disappointment at her reaction. “Yes, well, it will hopefully keep us warm, dry, and maybe a little safer.”

  Sraikura looked at him, and suddenly gave a big smile. “It nice! Mirickar, it nice!”

  She surprised him with a sudden hug, but he assumed she was just trying to make up for not appreciating his work right away. His disappointment gave way to alarm when he felt her suddenly tense up.

  “Down, Mirickar!” she breathed in his ear, kneeling and pulling him with her. He tried to read her expression in the dim light, but she was looking about wildly, leaving him mystified.

  “What–” he started softly, but she quickly put the fingertips of one hand gently on his lips.

  “Stay, Mirickar. Stay.”

  Before he could question her, she suddenly stood and moved away into the darkness. It took him several moments to realize that she had moved with almost no sound at all, despite the dry leaves and twigs in the area. His heart began to race as he listened. Only his knowledge that he would have no idea where to go stopped him from trying to follow her.

  A metallic clatter in the distance shredded the silence of the forest, making Mirickar’s heart leap. A moment later he heard a howl of pain, several shouts, another crash of what sounded like weapons on armor, and, inexplicably, the sound of animal hooves. Almost as abruptly as the noise began, the forest fell silent again.

  “Mirickar,” he heard Sraikura’s soft voice nearby. “I come. Fear not.” A moment later, he saw her dark form appear in the direction of the strange noises.

  “What happened?” he demanded, feeling confused and for some reason angry.

  “Bad men,” she answered, kneeling by him and moving her face close to his. “Mirickar. Anger?”

  He shrugged abruptly. “Yes… No. It matters not. I just want to know what–” He stopped when he realized she was bleeding from a slash on one cheek. “You are wounded! What happened? What is happening here?”

  Sraikura shook her head minimally while keeping her focus on him. “Bad men. Gone now. Mirickar safe. With me.” She then held up a small leather pouch. “Found.”

  “But your cheek…”

  “It… matters not,” she echoed his words. “Sraikura lives.” She pushed the pouch at him. “Found. For us.”

  Mirickar looked around but the forest was now too dark to see any detail. The idea that there was a threat nearby, or even that there had been one that she knew about while he did not, disturbed him greatly. The shelter now seemed pointless, underscoring his sense that it had been a wasted effort.

  After a moment, he took the pouch and opened it. There was not enough light to see the contents inside, so he shook them out into one hand. By the feel and smell of it, he guessed they were hard-baked breads, possibly with meat in the center, intended for sustenance while traveling.

  “Food,” he said with some surprise. He met her gaze as best as he could in the failing light. “This is very good, Sraikura. But your cheek, what are we to do–” Once again he was interrupted as she put her fingertips gently to his lips.

  “Sraikura lives,” she said. “Lives, heals. Mirickar safe. With me.” She glanced toward the shelter. “Sleep?”

  Mirickar didn’t answer at first as he tried to understand his childhood friend, and everything that had just happened. “Yes,” he finally agreed. “There is nothing else for us to do.” He looked around at the dark forest again. “But if there are enemies near…”

  “Mirickar safe. With me,” she repeated. “With forest. Forest magic.”

  This answer left him feeling uneasy but he could think of no argument. Despite his misgivings about whether it had any real value after all, he led the way into his shelter. There was just enough room for them to lay side by side. Sraikura settled quickly and seemed to fall asleep easily. For Mirickar, listening intently to the forest around them and puzzling over the evening’s events, sleep did not come for a long time.

  Chapter Three

  The gentle light of morning awakened Mirickar slowly. At first he did not understand why his bed felt so strange and the soft snoring he heard did not match his fa
ther’s grating rumble. When his eyes opened, the memories of the day before returned in full force.

  Turning his head he saw the peaceful expression on Sraikura’s face as she slept. A scowl darkened his own expression as he briefly envied her temporary bliss. He looked away and silently scolded himself for his reaction. She would be awake soon enough and would also have the prior day’s memories to burden her. It was a dark thought to wish anything else for his friend than that she might enjoy her peace for a bit longer.

  Mirickar looked back at Sraikura, his thoughts on the friendship that had spanned much of their lives. His work on the family farm had not left much idle time, but what play he had managed to enjoy had included her as often as it had not.

  Her unusual history had sometimes been an obstacle between them. At times he had avoided her because he was irritated by her behavior, but he would not deny that he cared for her. On occasion he even considered whether she might one day become his wife, but those thoughts never progressed very far. Seeing the soft lines of her face in the dawn light rekindled those ideas for a moment. Hunger pangs pushed them away.

  His thoughts about the food in the pouch darkened his mood once again. The food itself was welcome, but the mysteries surrounding it were not. He could not understand how she could have been alerted to the threat when he was completely unaware of it, nor how she could have found it and seemingly neutralized it, or at least helped someone do so. Yet she had not escaped injury. There seemed to be no end to the questions churning through his mind.

  One thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to get moving. The shelter he had taken so much time and effort to create, slowed further by her curious insistence about only taking one branch per tree, now seemed crude and uncomfortable. He pushed away the dark thought that he also wanted to put some space between himself and Sraikura. As he began to move, however, he disturbed her and her soft snoring ended.

  “Mirickar,” she said softly, slowly opening her eyes.

  “It is morning, Sraikura,” he answered, more gruffly than intended. “If you are as hungry as I am, perhaps we can divide the food you brought back last night. It will be a better breakfast than anything we might forage.”

  “Food,” she echoed, nodding. She glanced at the sheltering branches above them and her expression grew sad. “Hungry,” she nodded again, her voice wistful.

  Mirickar frowned. He knew she meant more than physical hunger and part of him wanted to try to comfort her, but he had said that today he might leave her in the forest and return to his home. It would not be wise to strengthen the bond between them if they would part soon.

  “Here,” he said, keeping his voice neutral as he handed her food from the pouch. As he had expected, there were small breads in the pouch. He gave her one and kept one for himself, leaving the last in the pouch for them to split later.

  Sraikura took a tiny bite from her bread. She then looked toward the mountains and then at Mirickar. “Today, deeper into forest?”

  He shrugged. “Today I decide whether to stay with you or return to avenge my parents,” he answered after swallowing the bite he had taken. He sighed heavily and was silent for a moment. “We will at least look for a safe place for you to stay. As safe as can be, in the wilderness. I don’t know how safe you can expect to be, but I will try. And then I will decide if I will stay with you.”

  “Sraikura safe,” she answered softly, looking down. “Mirickar safe, with me.”

  He did not answer but turned away so that she would not see the anger and frustration on his face. He took another bite and discovered, again, that he was right about the food. There were morsels of meat baked into the center to make them heartier for travelers.

  “We should move on,” he said after he finished eating. He turned back to her and saw that she was still eating slowly, apparently not liking the food. “I’m sorry if that does not taste good, but living out here will be difficult and food will be scarce. If there are two mouths to feed, it will be worse.”

  Sraikura shook her head slowly. “Sraikura eats.” She took a larger bite and chewed quickly. “Sraikura survives,” she continued, talking around her food. “Food from bad man. Sraikura sad.”

  Mirickar opened his mouth to say something and then realized he had no answer to her comment. He closed his mouth and looked away. His eyes landed on the shelter.

  “We can leave that,” he said, giving a nod in the direction of the shelter. “Perhaps someone else may find it and use it.”

  Sraikura shook her head again, this time more assertively. “Spread branches.”

  Mirickar was about to argue but he remembered how the branches had been collected and decided that she would probably claim that the forest would want the branches spread. He still had seen no sign of any magic in the forest itself, but there was no point debating it with her. Without saying anything, he began tearing down the shelter and scattering the branches.

  “Sraikura sorry,” she spoke up when he turned to her after tossing the last branch to one side. “Good… shelter,” she continued with what seemed like a forced smile at Mirickar.

  He shrugged. “The shelter is gone and we are done eating. Let us continue and try to find a good place where you can be… where you can stay.”

  Without waiting for her agreement, Mirickar set off through the woods, heading in the general direction of the mountains. The terrain continued to get more rugged as they went, and he looked around constantly for a useful location for Sraikura to begin setting up whatever home she could. He wanted something with natural shelter that would also have limited access so that she could not be surrounded easily. Nothing seemed safe enough, though, and they pushed onward.

  “I wish I had a bow and a few arrows,” Mirickar commented aloud when he spotted a small doe moving among the trees.

  “Make?” Sraikura asked from behind him.

  “No,” he answered without stopping. “I do not know how to make a bow or arrows. I do not have the materials to make a bow or arrows. All I have is a hungry stomach.”

  “Mirickar has Sraikura,” she said brightly. “Sraikura finds food!”

  He sighed irritably. “Yes, you did find food last night, though I do not understand what happened then. We cannot expect to find food like that again.”

  She did not answer. Mirickar found that he was moving faster out of annoyance but he did not slow down. The more he thought about what had happened the day before and where they now were, the more frustrated and angry he felt. Finding a safe place in the forested hills for Sraikura seemed like a fool’s errand. It simply would not be safe for her there.

  Mirickar stopped abruptly. “What am I doing? This is madness.”

  Sraikura stopped beside him and lightly touched his arm, but he abruptly moved away from her.

  “Mirickar. Not madness. We stay. No bad men. Just forest. Mirickar and Sraikura stay.”

  He looked at her sharply. “I want to kill them! I want to kill them all! They murdered my parents! Our loved ones did nothing to deserve this, and now they are dead!”

  “Dead,” Sraikura acknowledged quietly, looking down. They were silent for several moments. When she looked up again, her cheeks were wet with tears. “Kill bad men, still dead. We stay, still dead. We go, still dead.”

  Mirickar’s throat felt tight. “Yes, our loved ones will still be dead no matter what we do. That does not mean that we… that I should not seek revenge on those who murdered them! And every kurakvin I kill will not murder the loved ones of anybody else!”

  Sraikura shook her head slowly. “Mirickar, one man. Many bad men.”

  “I will not live forever. Why not die killing as many of them as I can?”

  She shook her head again. “No, Mirickar. Not die. Not yet.”

  “This is futile,” he snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “We will never agree. I cannot stay here and hide in the forest with you. You should not stay here, you will not be… I… I should take you with me. I can try to find a different fam
ily for you to stay with.”

  “No,” Sraikura said forcefully. “Sraikura not go back. Sraikura live here. No family. Family die. Sraikura live. Live in forest.”

  “Then I will go. Now. You are on your own.”

  “Mirickar, stay,” she said, her voice now pleading.

  “I can’t take care of you.”

  “Not take care of Sraikura,” she answered firmly, but then her voice softened. “Stay. Sraikura stay, Mirickar stay. Not… protect. Live. Sraikura and Mirickar.”

  Mirickar shook his head. “I do not share your fantasy. We cannot live here in peace. We will struggle, and my lust for vengeance will go unanswered. If you will not return with me, then go on ahead, and I will wish you well. I said I would decide today, and I have decided. I have tried to find a good location for you, but I have failed. I can go no further. I will return now and I shall slay kurakvin until I can breathe no longer.”

  Sraikura bit her lip and stepped back from him. “Mirickar make Sraikura sad.”

  “I… I am sorry, Sraikura,” he answered, trying to keep his voice gentle. When she did little more than look down, he turned to go. He could not wait any longer.

  “Mirickar, come. Water. Cave. Safe. Come,” Sraikura said, holding out one hand.

  He stopped and looked back. “What water? What cave? I do not want to be chasing a will-o’-wisp of fanciful wishes.”

  She shook her head. “Not wishes. Cave. Safe. Come, Mirickar.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I can go no further away from what I see as my destiny. I must avenge my parents. I must!”

  “Not far. Come, see. Not far.”

  After a long moment of silent thought, his shoulders slumped. “Very well. I will go with you a short distance further, Sraikura, but I will start my return journey before dusk.”

  Sraikura held out her hand a moment longer but he shook his head, so she let it fall limp by her side. She turned and took the lead through the forest, with Mirickar following close behind. As he walked, he looked around warily at their surroundings and at the sky, ready to turn back again if it seemed they went too far.