NHEDRI VII

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I heard their screams before I got to the camp

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I heard their screams before I got to the camp ...

Mayhee halted in the path. Ears twitching. Eyes as big as moons. I shivered at the sound wondering if I should turn the horse and kick him in the other direction. No. I shook my head. They need my help. I kicked my heels into his side and we continued forward.

Hundreds of teepees stood erected. Fire pits raised black snakes of smoke. My nostrils flared at the stink of decay, blood, and feces. I gagged, tightening my throat to keep from vomiting. "I shouldn't be here," I shook my head, "I should've never came--"

A somber voice asked, "Nhedri?"

I turned my head to find a tall, leathered-faced man with a coarse black mane, and black obsidian eyes that glared at me. Red droplets on his face. "Father?"

He tilted his head and I saw the long, spiral horn that protruded from his forehead. "What are you doing here?"

I swallowed, trembling. Women were forbidden to see the men in their skin armour. We were forbidden to see the beasts they'd become, yet when I looked upon my father all I saw was the man who raised me, trapped inside the beast. The same feeling that weighed my heart when I saw Tardakk.

What monsters do we have to become to stay alive? I thought. "I wanted to help. My apologies, father." I dropped my head.

Father placed a finger under my chin and I found his eyes. "I'm glad you're here. Follow me."

I hesitated then took off staying close to his heels. We passed tent after tent, walking deep onto camp, trying to keep my head down. And trying to keep my eyes from black eyes of the men. They terrified. My body trembled evertime I looked at the monsters around. My people. My tribesmen. Trapped.

A shrill scream caught my ears. I turned my head, haulting. The curtain of the tent was flapped open. And a man stood, tall and horned, in long thin hide robe. In hand sticks, one smoking and the other ratting a song that kept time with his feet. He danced around man, chanting. And I smelt an orange spice, and sneezed.

The shaman gazed up at me and halted his dance. I lowered my eyes on the one groaning, holding onto the boney, torn-fleshed nub that was now his leg. A puddle of blood soaking the hide rug beneath him. He groaned and looked up at me. Eye black and full of sorrow.

Father looked at me then walked over to the curtain, closing it.

I shook my gaze away. "What happened here? He was one of ours ... a rider."

Father sighed, grimacing. "Enoch attacked the Loch while Barthrax and I tried to make it to the cave. Those Merfolk were waiting ... But not in the loch like we expected. They were on top of the peaks ... and they rained boulders on my men and the horses. I was at the head, able to turn away in time. But most my men were less fortunate.That man had his leg crushed ... and we had to remove it." He shook his head. "I lost fifty men in that attack ... and I've heard three hundred men are dead. Almost two hundred are wounded. And a hundred are missing ..."

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