Destiny (48 page)

Six armed men arrived at the summit. Ikai took a good look at them. They were young men, strong and with rough faces: fighters. After them came their leader, a middle-aged man, tall, strong, of imposing bearing. His weathered face was marked by a tremendous scar which ran down the right side from temple to chin. His long black hair was braided in the old-fashioned style. His eyes were black as a moonless night and shone intensely. Ikai knew it was with intelligence.

“Hunter Ikai,” he greeted hoarsely.

“Master Hunter Sejof,” Ikai replied respectfully, with a slight bow.

“The Hunters have been summoned,” Sejof said in a solemn voice.

They all went down on one knee, presented their rings with the eagle symbol and looked at their leader. Ikai nodded at Ismes and smiled at Yestas. He knew the group well; he had trained with them for years under their Master’s command. Ismes and Yestas were like brothers to Ikai. Sejof took out a thick crystalline disc and held it in one hand, on which he wore an arcane gauntlet. Ikai stared at the golden pip in the heart of the object. Sejof placed it over the Ring on his left arm. He ran the arcane artifact over the royal eagle engraving. The ring flashed, as if replying to the disc. It rose above the Ring, and the Master moved his hand away. The disc remained hovering in the air a hand-span above his arm, then began to gleam with an intense silver light. Ikai had already witnessed that ritual before, but it never ceased to fascinate him. The disc sent out a beam of silver light towards the northeast, then after a moment stopped shining.

“We’ll camp here. Leave at dawn,” Sejof ordered, pointing in the direction the disc had shown.

“How many fugitives, Master?”

“Half a dozen.”

“They won’t manage to cross.”

“I’m afraid this time is different. I’ve a bad feeling,” Sejof said, putting the disc away.

Ikai looked at him, surprised. No one could cross, no one who was not a Serf of the Gods or a Hunter in their service. But he nodded and prepared mentally for a new hunt.

With the first light the Hunters set out. They marched for ten days at a hunting rhythm until they reached the great forests in the West. They followed the direction indicated by the disc until they found the fugitives’ trail. When they came close to the Border they stopped.

Sejof checked the trees around.

“Find the spot where they tried to cross.”

The seven men started at once.

It did not take them long to find it.

Ismes pointed it out: “It was here, Master.”

They gathered round the spot. Ikai looked at what his fellow hunter was pointing and was speechless. On the ground he could make out a thin gold line, almost translucent, but which became more solid the more he looked at it. It was the Border established by the Golden Gods. No man could cross it. A terrible death awaited those who tried to do so without permission from the Gods. Ikai had seen it before; it was certainly atrocious.

But what shocked him was that the trail crossed the barrier and continued on the other side.

It’s happened. They’ve crossed. But it can’t be. The Rings of the Gods can’t be broken, they’re made of a material which resists fire and steel. Nobody can find freedom. Nobody can cross and escape. How did they do it?

“By all that’s sacred!”  Sejof exclaimed, looking worried. He bent over to look at the prints and shook his head, then straightened up and looked at his men.

“Not a word to anyone, your life is at stake!” he said in a tone which left no room for doubt.

The Hunters nodded.

If this were known… there’d be hope… we could all escape the confinement we’re subjected to. But it would bring death…
Ikai thought, his mind troubled. He remembered his sister’s determined face. She would try to cross it without a second thought if she knew there was a possibility. And she would die. He shook his head. Ikai recalled one of his first hunts, when a poor man had amputated his ringed arm, thinking he could cross that way. Ikai had tried to stop him, but he had been too late. The poor wretch crossed. When his body came in contact with the barrier he went up in flames. He died, charred, amid screams of agony.

The Master Hunter took a step toward the discovery, following the trail, and stretched out his arm. The Ring buzzed jarringly, and Sejof’s arm began to tremble violently.

“The Border,” he said with a grunt of pain.

The Hunters caught up with him and stretched out their arms. The shaking began at once.

Ikai took a deep breath. He stepped forward with his arm extended so that the Hunter’s badge of his Ring would cross the forbidden fringe, announcing to the Gods that one of their Hunters was going to cross over. The Ring gave off a silver gleam on contact with the barrier and Ikai saw the eagle engraving shine strongly.

He had been announced. He passed his whole body across.

Spasms of pain overwhelmed him as he crossed the translucent barrier. He fell to the ground amid uncontrolled convulsions, in visceral torment. His mind exploded in pain and he lost consciousness.

When he came to, he did not know where he was or how long it had been. His whole body, his mind, were still undergoing torture as if thousands of hot pins were being stuck in him. But he was alive. The Gods had allowed him to cross. He looked around and saw his fellow hunters trying to recover, just as he was. Sejof was already standing and scanning the forest with his bow at the ready. Ikai prepared his, nocked an arrow and stood beside the Master while he tried to clear his mind. A moment later Ismes, Yestas and the rest of the group were with them, their weapons at the ready.

“Let’s go. The trail goes into the woods, to the north.”

The group of hunters made their way into the forest. The trail was easy to follow, even on that abrupt terrain and among the dense vegetation. Although the Hunters were expert trackers, on this occasion even a blind man could have followed the trail. The more they advanced, the wilder and more primitive the forest and flora around them became. Ikai knew it would be the same with the fauna, and this made him uneasy.

Suddenly Sejof stopped and crouched. They all did the same. Ikai could smell danger ‒ or was it something else? It was… blood. Sejof made a sign, and they gathered around him in a semicircle. Ikai looked at the ravine in front of them. Sejof pointed two fingers to his eyes and then south. In the deepest part, by a brook, Ikai saw bushes with abundant blood which stained the water red. They watched for a while in silence, waiting tensely, but there did not seem to be anything alive down there. Sejof gestured to Ikai, Ismes and Yestas to follow him, and the four began their descent into the ravine. From their elevated position on the edge the other hunters covered them with their bows in case of any threat.

They reached the bottom of the ravine with some difficulty and went to the place where the blood contaminated the crystal clear brook. They moved carefully, on the alert, following the trail of blood as far as a sharp bend.

Ikai looked ahead and was left stunned and speechless.

Ahead of them, in the deepest part of the ravine, lay half a dozen bodies grotesquely mauled and piled up. Wherever they looked, there was blood and the human remains of some terrible butchery. Not even Sejof could react. The four of them stayed staring at the macabre scene.

“What… what beast could do a thing like this?” Ikai managed to mutter at last.

“It must have been a bloodthirsty pack… of beasts,” Ismes said with a frown.

“Yes, but what kind of beasts?” Yestas asked uneasily.

Sejof shook his head and moved forward warily. He examined the first bodies and came back.

“It’s them,” he said. “Their escape ended here, here ends our hunt. What’s killed them is something that doesn’t concern us. We’re hunters of men, at the service of the Gods. When the prey dies, the hunt is over. We’re going back.”

Ikai felt a chill run down his back as if someone had poured a pitcher of cold water over him. Out here they were not the predator kings. The Gods had erected the Border to prevent their slaves from escaping, and for more than a thousand years the predators had reigned and evolved at leisure beyond it, without any contact with humans. This was wild territory, and extremely dangerous.

We’d better get out of here, the sooner the better.

Suddenly, a chilling roar sounded behind and above them. The four turned with bows ready, hearts beating like galloping horses. They heard screams and a tremendous bray. Two of the hunters toppled off the top of the ravine and fell to the ground.

“Damnation! Cover them!” shouted Sejof, and they ran to them.

Ikai looked at his fallen comrades, and his blood froze in his veins. Kilten’s thorax was open from side to side, as if the huge claw of a wild animal had mauled him. He was dead.
A bear or a tiger of enormous size,
he thought. Moltes was still breathing, but there was a terrible bite on one shoulder and lacerations in his stomach.

“Help…” he moaned, his eyes on Ikai.

Above they heard more screams and roaring; the fight was still going on. They raised their bows, but they could not see more than shadows above the undergrowth.

“Damnation, we have no shot!” cried Sejof. “Ismes! Yestas! With me! Ikai, you stay, don’t let him die.”

“Yes, Master!” replied Ikai as he saw them running uphill through the brush.

He bent over, putting his bow aside, and tore off a piece of his tunic to improvise a bandage. His comrade was losing a lot of blood and he had to act quickly.

“Easy, Moltes, I’ll patch you up, you won’t die.” He pressed the wound and bandaged it. “Hold on, pal, hold on,” he encouraged him, trying to hide his anguish.

Suddenly an enormous shadow flew over him, followed by a dull sound and the crushing of branches and brush, Ikai looked up in alarm.

As though from a nightmare, a huge beast appeared before him. Ikai saw an enormous body with matted fur covered in dirt and blood.

A wild bear head roared defiantly.

The beast was huge; standing on its two legs it was more than a head taller than he was himself. Ikai’s heart nearly jumped out of his mouth as he stood up. He took out his sword. The touch of the cold metal pommel awoke the trained warrior inside him, displacing his fear. With his other hand he grasped the dagger he carried at his belt.

A huge claw searched for his neck.

His reflexes and training took over. He threw himself to one side to avoid the claw. The beast roared again and lunged at him. Ikai thrust the sword in deep, feeling for the heart. He received a brutal claw blow in his side. Pain burst out in his mind but he did not budge. He knifed the beast again and again with both weapons, trying to hit some vital organ. A new laceration on his chest made him cringe with pain. But in his mind there was only one idea: he had to keep stabbing or die.

The open jaws of the beast searched for his face. The stench of its breath invaded him and he was overwhelmed by fear. He was lost. All of a sudden the beast arced and roared in furious rage. At the top of the gully he saw his comrades shooting at the monster. But the devilish animal tried to claw his neck. Seeing himself lost, Ikai tried to protect himself with his arm. The fangs of the beast bit into his arm hard, only to meet the Ring on his wrist. Ikai knifed it again, this time in the neck. In the midst of a chilling roar he received a tremendous blow on his head and shoulder. The sword fell from his hand. He fell to his knees and was left helpless. Dizzily he tried to fix his gaze, but everything was blurred and he saw something strange, something that could not be: the eyes of the bear were not those of an animal; they looked human… but it could not be…

The beast brayed.

And darkness came upon him.

This is the first chapter of my upcoming new book
ORIGIN
.

It will be available soon.

Check for it and all my books here:
Pedro Urvi

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I have the good fortune to have great friends and a fantastic family, and it’s thanks to them that this book is now a reality. I cannot put into words the incredible support they’ve given me during this voyage of epic proportions.

I would like to thank my good friend Guiller C. for all of his support, unwavering encouragement, and unbeatable advice. This saga, not just this book, never would have existed if not for you.

Roser M., for the lectures, the commentaries, the critiques; for everything you taught me and all your help on a thousand and one things. And for being such a great guy.

The Bro, who—as always—supported me and helped me as only he can.

My parents, who are the best in the world and have been an incredible help and support to me on this and all my projects.

Guiller B, for all your great advice, ideas, help and, above all, support.

Olaya Martinez for being an exceptional editor, a tireless worker, a tremendous professional and, above all, for her encouragement and excitement—not to mention everything she has taught me along the way.

Sarima, for being an amazing artist with exquisite taste who draws like an angel. Visit her web page:
http://envuelorasante.com/
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 And finally, many thanks to you, the reader, for supporting a new writer embarking on his first work. I hope you have enjoyed the book. And if so, I would very much appreciate a review and a hearty recommendation to your friends and acquaintances.

Thank you so very much.