Page 6 of Warrior of the Wild
“That’s enough,” Peruxolo says after a moment. And the man opposite bows his head to the ground.
I know already that he will not rise again.
With a single flick of Peruxolo’s wrist, the bowing leader topples over, blood pooling around him, choking gurgles coming from his lips.
We’ve been told stories since we were children of the god who can kill without touching his ax, but to see it…
Torrin trembles slightly beside me as the leader goes still and silent.
“I trust that someone will let the Restin village know I expect double payment on their gems by next month.”
The guards who accompanied their leader from Restin start to move toward the body.
“No,” Peruxolo drawls out lazily. “You will leave him for the ziken to feed on.”
It’s a shameful thing. Our people are buried under rock so thick that no animal can desecrate their bodies.
Almost without thinking, I grab Torrin’s hand. His fingers curve around mine, and I look down at the sight of our joined hands. A rope bracelet peeks out from beneath his sleeve, lengths of his little sister’s hair woven with the reeds—the child his mother lost at birth last winter.
Despite the danger, my racing heart calms somewhat at the sight.
“If I don’t receive double by next month,” Peruxolo says, “I’ll pay a visit to the village.”
Everyone in the clearing cringes at those words.
“Back up,” he continues. The leaders and guards do so, stepping away from the wagons. Only then does Peruxolo descend. He curves through the air in an arc before bending at the knees to catch himself on the ground. He rises, head held high, hood still firmly in place.
Peruxolo climbs into the last wagon in line.
He leans down to examine the drugged girl lying across the floor. He places a thumb and forefinger on either side of her chin, turning it from side to side as if she were a doll.
“She’s pretty. She will make a fine sacrifice. At least I can count on the Mallimer village to do their part each year.”
The Mallimer village leader nods. Actually nods. As though he’s done some great service.
My father turns away from the scene. Does he imagine how it would feel if one of his own daughters were taken? I know how much our people suffer, because I see the shrunken bodies and hollow cheeks that follow the Payment each year. But now I’m reminded how some villages have a heavier Payment than we do.
“Hitch the wagons together,” Peruxolo orders.
My father and the others remove the nocerotis from each wagon, yoking them all together in front of the first wagon. They connect the wagons in one long train. Peruxolo sits at the head of the reins and slaps them down on the hides of the wide beasts infront. So very slowly, all those goods, the wealth of seven different villages, roll away.
My whole life, I have heard whisperings about the god Peruxolo. He moves objects without touching them. Kills men who displease him with a look. Floats above us in the air. Sometimes the ground shakes when he walks. He has even been known to kill entire villages. Only twenty years ago, the Byomvar village was eradicated in the short span of a week when they failed to meet the requirements of their Payment for the second year in a row. They all grew sick until their bodies collapsed.
Peruxolo appeared hundreds of years ago in our lands and made it his home, demanding tribute every year in exchange for not slaughtering us all where we stand. His power is unlimited, he himself is immortal, and we have no choice but to abide by his wishes.
We’re taught to pray for Peruxolo’s mercy each night, but I do not. My prayers are only for Rexasena, the high goddess. She is an unseen deity who lives in the heavens. But I feel her all around me. In my sisters’ laughter. In the sun’s warm rays. In the peace I feel inside. She encourages goodness and kindness in this life so we may experience bliss in the life to come. But Peruxolo? He is a bane on the mortal realm, making us suffer unnecessarily for his own gain.
“Let’s go,” Torrin whispers. “Your father’s leaving. We should try to beat him home. We don’t want him to notice you’re missing.”
I nod and let Torrin lead me back the way we came. Despite the dangerous terrain, my thoughts circle around that girl in the last wagon. I wish I could help her. But to do so would be to doom the entire Mallimer village to a worse fate. We have no choice but to let her go.
I shiver from the thought of the death that awaits that girl.
“What’s wrong?” Torrin asks as we dodge another tree branch. “Did you see the gunda?”
I nudge him with my shoulder. “The gunda isn’t real.”
“How would you know? You’ve never been out in the wild before.”
