Gallel's Heir

Chapter 15.1: Light in the Eye

Another living thunderclap tore the air, and Pellan jumped on the man, her claws drawn. The man rolled away from Lianna, who stood trembling. Blood trickled through the leopard’s green spots, her lips curled back from her long fangs, her fur bristled as she rolled with the attacker.

 Morning sunlight over the trees blinded her dizzily. She must have dozed for only a few minutes, long enough for their belongings to have been loaded onto the boat. Lianna shook from fingers to toes as fatigue weakened her normal emotional restraint. Her head felt empty.

 Several paces away, Harren lay sprawled in the grass; Canúden struggled near her against two other attackers. His efforts, his wild eyes, how easily the men restrained and abused him, seemed like those of a rabbit fighting against two dogs. Everything moved slowly, as if part of a dream.

But the soreness of her hips and knee and shoulder were no dream. Canúden slashed at the men with a large knife he held in his hand, but one of the two men knocked it from him with a long spear, and they forced him against a fat tree. He kicked futilely. “Dylin!” he called.

 Pellan’s opponent wielded a spear and pushed the feline up and away from him; she rolled back to her feet immediately. The man tossed the bag of coins to the edge of the grove. Eyeing the bag, then glaring at her opponent with her glistening eyes, the leopard snarled, and they circled each other, panting.

 A fourth attacker had Mama by the throat against the turf. The man was Tutang. “Papa!” Lianna cried. “Don’t hurt her!” Tutang either ignored or failed to hear the plea; he squeezed Mama’s shoulders, which twisted unnaturally. Mama shrieked, years of terror apparent on her face, flashing eyes, tight cheeks, weeping. “Mama!”

 Lianna looked around for some way to help; thick grass and fallen leaves covered the ground, and the only visible stones lay in the water several paces away. Her throw always lacked strength anyway. The only branches any thicker than her pinky grew on the darkwoods. Weak as her little arms were, she couldn’t break anything, especially with enemies so close. The tiny scissors and needles were with her stitching, but those would inflict little more damage than a scratch against Tutang. She glanced over to where the horses had stood; not even their tethers remained, as though they’d be any help to her.

 The Kel yanked Mama to her feet; she stifled a deep sob and stood motionless. “Dylin,” Tutang mumbled. His lips were tight. “She’s mine.” Tutang shook Mama and struck her in the face. Vapors of alcohol floated to Lianna, and she wrinkled her nose. Nausea intensified, and she sat on the grass.

 Mama struggled to breathe. “Jus… let us go… you can… visit… Please! You… don’t know… what Turb…”

 He punched her repeatedly, without actually touching her flesh. He wore gloves. Mama grasped at his face, but he held her arms firm. If she touched him, she’d put him to sleep. “She’s mine. D’you want Tamil to come back? You bitch. Selfish.”

 “Tamil’s minion… will… destroy us… Please… she… Ow!”

 The Kel pulled her off her feet and dragged her over the rutted grass. Mama banged her head against a trunk on the edge of the thicket and uttered the deep cry. A bright spot of blood appeared above her ear. Tutang pulled her up then threw her onto the ground. She fell with a thud on her back, dead leaves splaying all around her.

 “Dylin!” yelled Canúden. One of his attackers pushed him into the water. He disappeared in a splash, then struggled ashore, not looking at the brutes, but rather at Mama.

 The Kel lifted her by the arm and struck her in the face. With bloody lips, she said, “There’re others…”

 “Bloody smite me!” Slap. “Do you think I want…?”