Mura

  Mura frowned, the baying of wolves drifting into their tent on the chill early evening breeze. They stood, stretching stiff muscles, and reached for their spear, still dressed for the cold after today’s patrol. Outside, they could already hear the movement of the others mingling with murmurs of confusion.

  The plainswolves’ attack on the village had shaken everybody, but none more so that the most experienced of their hunters. These men and women prided themselves on having seen it all out on the wastes; knowing all the dangers they could face, and how to best them. The beast, along with these new plainswolves, larger, fiercer, and far more intelligent than any they’d seen, shattered that illusion. Now none of them could say exactly what awaited them in the dark.

  Mura put out the blubber lamp warming their tent and stepped outside into the crisp evening air. Around them, the other hunters were scrambling to their feet, or leaving their own tents, hurrying toward weapons and fur coats as the sound of baying continued in the near distance.

  All, Mura noted, but one. T’aarak was nowhere to be seen—once again, completely absent from their camp. They frowned, but put it out of their mind. The others were already moving towards the noise, and Mura did not intend to be left behind. Now that they were outside, he could make out sounds beside the baying and snarling of wolves in the distance. Muffled shouts, and the occasional wounded dog whimper of a wolf being struck down.

  They were clearly not the only group in this part of the wastes, and, logically speaking, the people currently being attacked by wolves could only be T’aakshi’s hunting party.

  Mura strode after the others, teeth grinding and a chill running through them that had nothing to do with the cold. It did not take long to catch up, and Mura joined the group on its left side, next to a middle-aged hunter named S’era. She glanced at them out of the corner of brown eyes, and Mura thought he saw a flicker of distaste or dislike flash across her face, though it was gone too quickly to be sure.

  This was not a new reaction to Mura’s presence. Not being born of the Su’roi was an obstacle some of the older hunters just could not seem to get past. They had hunted with S’era before, however, and she had never given Mura any sign that she had a problem until now. They didn’t have long to think about this as they pushed forward towards the sound of wolves and battle; because, without warning, another of the hunters left his place in the group to walk on Mura’s left side.

  Mura swallowed. Suddenly, pinned between the two, a flicker of suspicion ran through them. Nobody had gone out of their way to talk to Mura since they had left. One of them doing it now put Mura on edge.

  The person in question was Kuto, an older hunter about the same age as T’aallin. Unlike T’aallin, Kuto was a giant of a man, broad, with mammoth-like limbs. His hair was cloud-grey and ran halfway down his back. It, along with his long, scraggly beard framed his face, obscuring much of it and leaving hard eyes as the only indicator of expression.

  “What do you think, S’era—is today when things finally get underway?”

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  S’era peered at Kuto and pursed her lips. “This must be the kind of opportunity T’aarak has been waiting for.”

  Kuto’s beard twitched, and Mura realised he was grinning beneath the mass of bristly hair. A weight had settled in their stomach, even as they hurried towards the sounds of battle. The opportunity T’aarak has been waiting for. Had T’aarak kept Mura isolated for a reason? To hide something from them? If he had, it seemed Mura had been the only one kept in the dark. Of all of the reasons they could think of for doing that, none of them were good for him or T’aakshi.

  “Opportunity for what?” Mura asked, trying to sound casual and failing.

  S’era and Kuto’s eyes snapped towards them, and Mura had to fight the urge to slow their pace and create some distance between himself and the pair. Somehow, Mura could tell that Kuto’s smile had widened beneath that beard.

  “Opportunity to take the initiative in this damned contest,” Kuto said.

  S’era nodded in agreement as the snow crunched beneath her half-running boots.

  The opportunity to win and make T’aarak our Chief is one that we can’t pass up. I—”

  “But how is Shi—if that is even his group—being attacked by plainswolves an opportunity? Unless you’re hoping he’ll be killed off?”

  S’era’s eyes widened, and even Kuto shook his head. “Gods Mura, none of us want to see harm come to any of our people. I like T’aakshi. Seems a solid man. But he’s hardly earned the right to be called a leader, as T’aarak has.”

  “One day, perhaps,” Kuto added, “but right now, all I see is a boy. He has strength to be sure, but all that means is that he is a powerful one.”

  Mura could pick up no lie in what they were saying—Gods, most of it T’aakshi himself had said of his potential leadership. That did not change the uneasy feeling building inside as they ran, nor did it prevent their teeth grinding together with the anxiety of it. He might believe S’era and Kuto, but that did not mean he trusted T’aarak with thier friend’s lives at all.

  After several minutes of running, as well as some scrambling up and over a dune of loose snow, T’aarak came into view in the distance. He stood, towering, peering over the edge of some kind of ravine, or cliff. T’aarak heard them coming and turned to face them, a small smirk on his face, barely visible over his jacket and fur neck cover.

  “Good. You have arrived swiftly. If we are fast, we can achieve all of our aims here quickly and bloodlessly before heading on our way.”

  Mura looked across the line of hunters and sure enough, not one of them looked even half as confused as they were. On the other side of the cliff edge T’aarak was standing in front of, Mura could hear the echos of battle echoing up from the bottom. The man was still talking, and still hadn’t mentioned exactly who was fighting below. Mura sighed as loudly as they could get away with without interrupting T’aarak. They had to know for sure.

  Without waiting for an opening to ask permission, Mura slid forward to get a good look over the edge, and had to stop him from shouting out to those below. It was T’aakshi’s group. They stood in formation, spears all protecting one hunter with a bow, as T’aakshi ducked and danced and speared his way through the plainswolves’ vicious strikes.

  Mura knew they had to get down there. Scanning the sides of the cliff, they found a sloped route downward so he could rush straight away to their beleaguered people. Their legs were moving before they could stop them. Towards the slope, towards T’aakshi, until a voice like cold steel stopped them dead in their tracks.

  “Hold him.”

  Almost immediately, two sets of hands grabbed their arms, pinning them in place, and turning him to face T’aarak, who was glaring at them through eyes narrowed like shards of ice.

  “I told you, child, I will do anything to win. And I must win—there are more important things at stake here than T’aakshi.”

  “Bastard,” Mura ground out, Kuto’s fingers digging painfully into their shoulder and forearm, making them wince. “What are you going to do?”

  T’aarak looked at them for a moment, and then smiled.

  “You will see,” he said, grin never slipping. “S’era. Kuto. Bind him—I do not trust that he will not get in the way.”