Chapter 1.3 - Funeral

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Gretch took the lead, thirty paces in front of the others.

Tajar's brow was thunderous as he rode next to Clarisai, who rode Alam's horse, Mist.

"I really hate him," Tajar whispered to Alam who walked beside Tajar.

"I know," Alam said.

"What do we do about him?" Tajar asked.

"At the moment there isn't anything we can do. At least it's clear that he means us no harm."

"I don't believe that for a second."

"We're still alive," Alam pointed out. "He's had plenty of opportunities to kill us, but he hasn't."

"Yet," Tajar added before asking a question that had been on his mind. "Do you really think he's your brother?"

"No. Don't be stupid."

"You have to admit that there are some physical similarities," said Tajar. "You're both tall, darker skinned than the people of the Clans, your noses stick out more that mine, and you both have slightly wavy hair."

"You're my brother. Maybe not through blood, but by every other way that counts. He's a killer."

Tajar dropped his voice even quieter. "Well, we have to do something about him eventually. He hasn't told us what he wants with us, but it won't be good."

"Indeed."

"How about tonight?" whispered Tajar. "He has to sleep sometime. A quick thump on the head and it would be solved."

"You don't mean that," Alam shook his head. He then turned to the other horse. "Clarisai, now that you are a little recovered from your imprisonment in the mountain I have some questions for you."

"And I for you," she smiled.

"Of course," Alam replied. "Please, you go first."

"The most obvious questions are who are you and why are you here?" she asked.

Alam was confused. "I am Alam, this is Tajar, and he," Alam indicated to Gretch at the front of the their group, "is Gretch."

"I know your names," she laughed, "but who are you?"

"I'm not sure I understand your question," Alam frowned. "I am just a clansman from the Endless Plains. I have no rank or station or title."

"I, on the other hand," said Tajar, "am an archer and tracker of renown, famous throughout these lands for my unsurpassed accuracy and skill."

Gretch snorted derisively from the front.

"Unsurpassed?" asked Alam.

"No one has killed me yet," said Tajar.

"What about Serik, who trained you?" asked Alam. "Does he surpass you?"

"Well..."

"And Gretch?" Alam asked.

"That has not been tested yet," said Tajar. "What do you say Gretch? Shall we have a contest to see who is the greater bowman?"

"I think not," the large man replied without looking back. "A tree does not have to prove its height to the grass."

Clarisai laughed. "So Alam is nothing but a common clansman, and Tajar is world's best tracker and archer. Gretch? What of you?"

"I am hunter. I hunt, then I kill."

Ahead of them Gretch suddenly stopped and bent to the ground. He picked something small off of the pine needles, squished it between his fingers and sniffed it.

"What is it?" ask Alam, drawing closer.

"Goats," Gretch replied, holding a small dark pellet between his thumb and forefinger. "Three hours ago."

"Three hours is a long time ago," said Tajar.

Gretch snorted. "For you, perhaps. Not for me. I am the greatest hunter of this age."

"And the most humble," said Tajar.

"We need fresh food or we die. I am the only one of us that can catch it." Gretch handed his greatsword to Alam. "Look after this. It will slow me down."

Alam took the heavy blade that was the cause of so many innocent deaths. He was both repulsed by holding it, and amazed that Gretch had entrusted his weapon to him.

"Keep moving south," instructed Gretch. "I will find you."

Before anyone could comment Gretch took a deep breath and launched himself off the path. Within moments he was swallowed by the forest. It had happened so fast they were all a little stunned.

"That was much easier than I thought it would be," Tajar said with a smile.

"What was?" asked Clarisai.

"Getting rid of Gretch! It looks like we won't have to knock him on the head in the dead of night after all."

Tajar dug his heels into his horse's ribs. "Come on! Let's make the most of it and get moving."

"There are three of us and only two horses," Alam pointed out.

"Don't be absurd," chidded Tajar. "Mist is the biggest horse on the Plains, and Clarisai is tiny..."

"By which you mean 'fine featured' I assume," Clarisai smiled.

"The finest," said Tajar with a bow. "I hope I caused no offense. I try to never offend women, especially the beautiful ones."

"You're flattery is offending me," interrupted Alam.

"I just mean that you two can easily ride on Mist's back at the same time," Tajar continued. "Or I could ride on Mist with you, Clarisai. I'm a better rider than Alam and I smell better."

"No you don't," said Alam, but he closed his arms against his sides anyway to reduced odours escaping. "And anyway, I can't ride with my ribs in this state. Even getting in the saddle would be difficult. We're going to have to be patient."

"I'm good at many things," smirked Tajar. "But patience isn't one of them."

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Thanks for reading. I love any comments and votes that you choose to make.

-Y. V. Qualls

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