Wind Walkers: The Last Light Feast

Bethany pleads with her father after an unpleasant dinner with Caleb.

Pungent and savory the aroma of venison filled the camp stirring the bellies of each wind walker with the exception of Bethany. Hunger was the least of her worries as she humbly lowered herself onto the cool lawn next to Caleb. A pert and almost imperceptible smile inked onto his distinct face.

"I see you've reconsidered. I'm glad for it."

Bethany scowled her resentment at him. In no way had she changed her stance on the matter of marriage, but until she could appeal to her father directly she would have to play by the rules. Like the submissive and tame woman she was expected to be she began to serve Caleb his food, dishing out meat and roasted corn and stewed greens. Then she and the other wind walkers waited as was custom for Caleb to eat first of his catch.

Slowly and with a misplaced air of dignity he brought the does supple roasted flesh to his lips and sank his teeth into it, the juices spilling down his chin. Bethany swallowed back her disgust.

To the west the plains were aglow with the golden hue of late afternoon. As shadows descended over the land the smell of game would attract the blood hunters. Before the sun disappeared beyond the horizon they would be nearing the camp and it would be vital that each wind walker was safely afloat among the clouds.

Thoughts of Gomez stranded for the oncoming horde to pick off like a weakened lamb turned Bethany's stomach. There was little if any hope of him surviving the night. Perhaps she could convince her father to shelter him just until morning.

Her thoughts carried her gaze to where Clementine and her daughter shared their meal with their charge. Dewey sweat shone on his bronzed skin. It was not a particularly hot day, but Bethany imagined that the pain in his leg caused his strain.

"It's a shame." She said aloud.

"What is?" Asked Caleb absently.

She watched him scoop a handful of greens into his mouth, his large teeth chomping down on the ends. Involuntarily she wrinkled her nose at him.

"That poor man doesn't stand a chance here by himself."

Caleb snorted and shook his head.

"Do you think he survived this long on chance alone? I am sure he can take care of himself."

"He wasn't shot in the leg before tonight."

Caleb stopped chewing and shot her a warning glare. It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"So do you propose we let a stranger weigh us down?"

"He wouldn't weigh us down, he's one man, not an army."

"One man who was alone in the woods outside of our camp. A man who saw us, but did not make himself known. He earned his fate."

"How can you say that?" Bethany was outraged. "Would you have approached a group of armed men if you were alone?"

"I would have alerted them to my presence. And this isn't about me. You don't even know the man. How can you defend him?"

Color flooded her cheeks and she felt a pressure building in her chest. If she disliked Caleb before she despised him now. He was heartless.

"I'm not hungry." She said, excusing herself from him.

With a hurried pace she wove between picnics until she found her father. He was seated among the elders recounting stories from the past.

"Ah, Bethany there you are. I hope you have good news for me." Laughter spilled over in his voice and his cheeks were pinched high in a warm smile.

A quick palpitation of her heart caused Bethany to second guess herself. Her father was expecting her to announce her engagement to Caleb. He would be thoroughly disappointed.

"Papa, I need to talk to you." She pleaded with her eyes for privacy.

Jonah straightened and cleared his throat.

"Please excuse us." He nodded to the elders and with a loud grunt got to his feet.

With her father trailing behind her Bethany moved away from the crowd so that they would be out of earshot if they kept their voices low. When she turned around he was stern.

"What's the meaning of this, Bethy?"

Doubt nagged at the back of her mind like a dripping faucet. What if he was as hard headed as Caleb? She had never considered her father to be a cruel man. However, never before had they encountered an exile, let alone a wounded one. Gomez's words rang in her ears. The chief had wanted to leave him to die.

"Papa, I'm concerned about the stranger." She started, her hesitancy clear in her tone.

Jonah chuckled and placed a comforting hand on his daughter.

"No need to worry, darling. He will be gone within the hour."

Oh, no.

"Is that the kindest thing to do?" She tested.

A deep crease marred his face and Bethany knew she should tread lightly.

"Kindest thing? Maybe not, but it is for the good of our people."

Bethany lowered her eyes.

"He'll die."

Jonah sighed and drew her close to him.

"A man like that can care for himself." He assured her.

She was not satisfied.

"With a hole in his leg? He'll be killed by the blood hunters within a few hours. Please, Papa we have to help him."

Jonah paused as if to reflect. He breathed deep, his nostrils flaring. With a squeeze of her shoulder he spoke.

"We've done all that we can for him. His fate is in his own hands."

Sickness bubbled up inside of her. He was going to let a man die for his own comfort.

"Papa, it wouldn't be right."

"And what would you have me do?" He snapped. "Allow a strange man to stay among us and put our lives at risk? It Is bad enough that he was allowed into our camp with his injuries. He will draw in the blood hunters. They will follow us, Bethany. They will be waiting in the shadows for our moment of weakness and they will pick us off. You cannot be so foolish. The life of one man does not outweigh the collective survival of the tribe."

Bitter tears stung her cheeks. Such cruelty from her own father was a harsh reality to bear.

"If we perish it will be because of your stubbornness, not because we chose to help a wounded man."

"Enough!" The boom of his voice carried into the common and a hush fell over the wind walkers. "I am the chief and I have decided what is best for my people. I will not tolerate defiance. Go to your betrothed and tell him goodnight. You are to stay in the basket until morning."

Another gargle of distress affected Bethany. If this was how her father reacted to her request to save Gomez, then she did not want to see his anger at her refusal of Caleb. Without further conversation she left her father's presence and returned to where Caleb sat smugly chewing on the golden kernels of corn.

"Didn't go as you planned, did it?" He chided.

Bethany glowered at the man before her. He was handsome in a primal sort of way with broad shoulders and chizzeled visage, but to her he was nothing more than a pretentious swine.

"I only returned to say good night. Enjoy your meal."

Chilled and distraught she returned to her home and swung herself into the nest of woven branches. Behind it's walls she allowed herself a silent cry. Above her the great balloon swayed ever so gently in the summer breeze. It rocked the basket and summoned sweet memories of childhood. Every night for eighteen years she had fallen asleep to the delicate swaying and the rush of wind. It soothed her even in her most agitated state.

A stack of folded quilts was placed to her right. She carefully laid out one as a bed and tucked a second around her. In the corner next to the quilts was a canvas bag in which she kept her night clothes. She dug out a knitted sweater and pulled it over her head. As they asended the temperature would drop. It was vital to stay warm even in the hot, dry months. Prepared for the night she began to scoot down and settle in when she heard something stirring just outside. She stopped and listened. The drone of voices drifted from the center of the common. Then she heard it again. Something was directly outside. Bethany got onto her knees and pressed her ear to the side of the basket.

"Hey," it was a whisper, "hey, are you awake in there?"

Bethany shot up to see Gomez crouching just outside of the camp.

"What are you doing?" She questioned.

He looked around him as if expecting to be reprimanded.

"Your father sent me away. I wanted to say goodbye, and thank you."

"Thank you for what?"

He peered around again.

"For putting your neck out for me. That took guts."

Bethany felt herself growing warm.

"I'm so sorry." Was all that she could say.

Gomez reached for her hand and squeezed it. Her heart fluttered and her earlier tears threatened an encore.

"I will be fine. And maybe one day we will meet again." His voice was hollow.

Bethany's vision was blurred as he slowly backed away from her. In the common the tribe began to pack up and arrange themselves for the night's journey. The sky had turned a somber shade of violet with a deep salmon glow right at the horizon. The blood hunters would soon emerge from the shadows.

Gomez was getting further away, limping along like a blood hunter himself. Bethany could not bear to watch him approach his death. In a matter of minutes they would be miles away sailing on the updrafts and Gomez would be nothing more than a painful memory.

Behind her her father directed the flow of work as the others rushed about in the dimming evening light. He did not notice when she said her goodbye and he did not notice when she leapt over the side of the basket and sprinted after Gomez.

"Wait!" She called after him softly.

He halted and hobbled around just in time to see her stumble to a stop.

"What are you doing?"

He caught her and somehow managed to steady the both of them.

"Don't leave." She pleaded, all too aware of his hand still grazing her wrist.

"It isn't up to me. Go back before your dad notices you're gone."

He withdrew and turned to continue on. Bethany leapt in front of him.

"I have an idea."

Author's Note

Written on phone.