Baited Breath

Introducing another main character, Jayah. She's not from the same clan as the group stalking her, Her situation is dire, will she be able to out think and out maneuver Dorag's hunting party?

 ~Toumai (a novel & saga)~

   book 1

    Atalant   

Chapter 2

   Baited Breath

Time was precious, and yet every inch of her body screamed in rebellion until she had no choice but to stop.  Doubled over, Jayah waited for the pain to subside and her breathing to calm.  The headband she dawned on earlier was saturated and sweat now burned  her eyes.  She yanked it free as her mind raced, wondering, had they taken the bait, and if so how close were they?  Jayah dried the headband in a patch of peaty soil and then strapped it back in place.  While securing the double knot, she was already in a full sprint.

Strategy was everything, including the section of forest she had chosen. The trees were mostly larch, their soft willowy branches much easier to push her way through, and their needles were bright yellow this time of year and so easy to distinguish from the intermingling spruce and fir.  The larch gave way to hardwood, large sprawling trees that she had to then weave her way around until finally bursting out.

Eyes squinting against the sudden brightness, Jayah climbed on a heap of fallen trees, remnants left in the wake of hurricanes. The better vantage point enabled her to take in the surrounding area. The distant rumbling had told her as much, that a storm was brewing.  She spotted the dark billowing clouds and tell-tale streaks of grey beneath, rain falling silently into the sea.  Jayah breathed a sigh of relief. It was far enough away and the shore remaining dry was essential to her plan.

Jayah crossed the bramble in good time.  Her speed was an advantage over her pursuers who excel in brute strength but lack in speed and agility.  Halting at the section of stoney beach, she perched herself on a large boulder, scouring her surroundings until to the right she found what she was looking for. The trick now was to get there without leaving a trail.  Jayah chose the unstable smaller boulders to walk on so in the event that any became stained with blood, she could simply roll them over.

While in the forest it had been easy for Jayah to set the stage of making it appear as though a group had passed through instead of a single person, but continuing the illusion while crossing the sandy beach would be much more difficult. First though, Jayah had to make it across the stoney section of beach and to the pile of driftwood. Again this is where her agility paid off, moving swiftly from one wobbly boulder to the next until she arrived without incident. Rummaging through the pile she found two that would suit her purpose, and then retracing her steps, she made sure to turn over the blood stained stones.

Arriving back to the fallen trees, Jayah set out toward her destination, crossing another section of boulders, but this time choosing the larger ones, no longer concerned with covering her trail. Back and forth she moved, retracing her steps in order to mark a wide trail of blood splattered stones, making it appear to those who pursued that their prey consisted of many wounded individuals

As Jayah reached the last leg of her journey, she stared across the golden sands that stretched to the craggy outcrop that towered more than 65 feet straight up. As with many outcrops on the shoreline, this one became an island as the tide rose, a feature of great value to her people, enabling them on many occasion to evade hunters like the ones pursuing Jayah at the very moment. The outcrop extended to the entire width of the sandy beach, its very tip touching the sea. Jayah was more than familiar with this outcrop. She knew that it ranged from 100-200 feet across and was also relatively flat on top, and so enabling a variety of flora�" moss, juniper, low lying shrubs and at the very tip that hung over the sea, one very tall pine. That a single tree had been able to grow to such enormous size and on such a vulnerable perch was nothing short of miraculous, and because of this Jayah's people considered it sacred, a symbol of survival against the odds in much the same way that they too survived against the odds, protected by Ayah, the great mother goddess of all.  Jayah's clan believed that when Ayah went out of her way to offer special protection to any of her creation, it was for a unique purpose.

The top of the outcrop was Jayah's final destination, and it is also where she expected to breath her last, and this was a good thing she thought, better that I die here at this sacred place and at the hands of an enemy than the death that awaits me otherwise.

Jayah moved on the sand as she did on the stones, running back and forth to create what then appeared to be a group instead of just herself. After a final pass, Jayah inspected her work. The effect was convincing, the indentations made by the driftwood were similar to those left by her feet, and once again, making it appear as though a small group had passed through.  Had the sand been wet, her foot prints would have been too defined for the same strategy to be convincing. Everything was going as she had hoped.

Jayah faced the cliff and began her ascent, a climb that under usual circumstances would be easy, but she was tired, weak from loss of blood, 9 months pregnant and in labour.  She willed herself, pushing beyond shear exhaustion all for the sake of buying time for her loved ones to move safely away from the hunters that had been pursuing them.  As a means of drawing the predators away from their prey, she had set herself up as bait.

The troop of hunters lingered at the edge of the forest where all, save but one had their eyes trained on the ominous sky that hung over the sea. Dorag had arrived first, immediately putting himself to the task of inspecting the fallen trees and scanning for any sign of their prey. Then he spotted something-- a splatter of blood and then another further ahead and then following in a straight line and well beyond the stoney beach, he could see that the smooth sand had been disturbed.

Dorag turned back to join the huddle his troop had formed. He was eager to get on with the chase, but from the faces of his comrades he knew not to push it. His clan had their own set of beliefs some of which were similar to that of their enemy, including a Goddess named “Ayah”.  Both peoples had a healthy fear of the natural elements, and at the very top of the list were storms.  Being on a beach while thunder and lightning loomed nearby was asking for trouble.  Ayah didn't suffer fools lightly as she made abundantly clear time and time again by punishing those who dared to break her sacred laws.

At the moment there was no immediate danger, with the storm still out to sea, but this didn't make Dorag's men feel any less uneasy.  Dorag addressed his men in the sign language of their people, displaying confidence in the movement of his hands: the wind from the north grows stronger.  It was all that he needed to convey.  The men continued to sign among themselves.  It was true, the wind from the north generally grew stronger with the sun's descent and so it was unusual for storms to reach land especially during this time of year as the north wind picked up momentum.  Still, weather patterns had changed drastically in the last few years,  and so this was more fuel added to their fears.

Dorag had to admit to the black clouds chilling effect.  He also had more of a reason to continue than the rest of his troop, and so stepping away from the huddle was a way to show respect and give his men the opportunity to come to a consensus without the pressure of their leaders presence.  Even though Dorag was highly respected as a leader, all were more than familiar with history repeating itself-- the countless tragedies involving over zealous leaders nearing their goal.  They were cautious and rightfully so, rash decisions more often than not, led to death.  Each hunter was there on their own volition and so could leave at any given moment without fear of retribution.  It was simply their way, and this was the last thing Dorag wanted to see happen.

At the sand Dorag inspected the indentations. He figured 8 sets of foot prints. This was good news, not enough to be outnumbered and yet more than enough to warrant continuing the chase ... that is, if enough of his men chose to continue.  Even if outnumbered, this often didn't deter the hunters, each of whom towered a good foot and weighing as much as 100 pounds heavier than the average adult male of the River Clan.  Dorag figured that if a dozen of his men decided to continue, it would be enough, but anything below that, and though it would be a hard thing for him to do, he would call off the hunt.

That Dorag's troop had grown to 23 members in the past two years, was astounding. Much of this had to do with his success as leader, but it was the story behind the four scars raking one side of his face that played a significant part in his becoming a leader of the Bahr-Bahr clan in the first place.

It was a law that no one dared to defy, new initiates were required to join one of the many troops designated to hunt the bahr while also foraging for the needs of their people. After a year, the best among them moved up in rank to hunt the others, another formidable foe. And now, Dorag had enough victories under his belt that it would take only two or three more hunting excursions... or a single big one, that would entitle him to move up in rank and join the Mammoti.

The Mammoti and the Bahr-Bahr are two clans that make up a single tribe, with the latter being subordinate to the ruling Mammoti. As part of the ruling clan, a young Mammoti male by birth right alone was entitled to join the rank of reindeer hunter on turning 13 winters, a benefit that enabled these youth a much better survival rate than their counterparts of the Bahr-Bahr clan. The Bahr-Bahr didn't question their lot, but simply regarded it as Ayah's chosen design, where the weaker gives way to the stronger. The Mammoti were not only greater in number, but the majority were exceptionally bigger and stronger than the Bahr-Bahr, and so rebellion was out of the question. The greatest hope of a young Bahr-Bahr male would be to one day join the Mammoti as reindeer hunter, a status and occupation that would elevate their life expectancy to 30 years and beyond, giving them more than a fighting chance of attaining a hearth and winning a mate who would bear children of one's own spirit, THIS, was the highest achievement.

The present 23 members of Dorag's troop were mostly aged 14 winters, with the rest being either 15 or 16. All were in the prime of life, and if fate would be in his favour, this raid on 8 River people, would result in little loss... maybe only two or three from his troop. Dorag was so intent on keeping an eye on the tree line in anticipation of what his men would decide, that he didn't stop to dwell very long on where the foot prints led and all that it could mean, he simply watched in jubilation as he counted every one of his troop emerging from the forest and on their way to join him.

Together they followed the tracks. There was a lot of blood, much more than before, scattered enough so that it appeared as though several members of the group were wounded. For a moment Dorag had questioned this, what could have happened... how were so many wounded?  But then he didn't think any more of it, after all, in their brutally rugged land, it could be one of many things.  As they followed the trail, Dorag also questioned why the tracks didn't veer back towards the wood as he thought would be the case once their prey realized where they were.  Instead the tracks made a bee line straight for the cliff, and he couldn't help but wonder at his good fortune, believing that his enemy were obviously not aware of what he was aware of.

The River Clan were adept at climbing, hence one of the reasons why they aimed for outcrops surrounded by steep cliffs when evading Bahr-Bahr Hunters. The Bahr-Bahr on the other hand didn't have the same range of flexibility in their upper arms and legs that enabled the River People to climb sheer cliffs with ease.

Dorag knew the land like the back of his hand and had a great memory for retaining changes no matter how subtle. He knew that this outcrop had undergone some major changes during the last quake, causing the cliff on the further side to break away in a landslide that created a steep, but traversable slope.  Dorag knew from experience, the River Peoples means of evading them, and since the group they hunted had obviously climbed the cliff, this signalled to him that they were either not aware of the change or they simply hoped that Dorag wasn't aware.

Dorag looked to the sky, the storm appeared to be blowing further out to sea. So with this easing his mind, and believing that those he hunted were watching from above, he decided to react as he normally would, pretending of course that the other side of the outcrop hadn't changed and so signalling the end of the hunt to his troop.

In normal circumstances this is where the Jayah's people usually had the advantage, meaning that all they had to do at this point was to wait for night when the tide would be high, the wind depleted and water calm enough for them to escape wholly unseen. The Bahr-Bahr could never figure it out... how they could just disappear, but they always did.  Since members of their people sank like a stone in water, they couldn't conceive of an enemy who closely resembled them, having the ability to float and swim, an ability that the River People had managed to keep a secret for as long as their rivalry began many generations ago.

Dorag signed to his men, motioning for them to head back to the forest.

Once in the forest, Dorag and his troop circled around until they were able to peer through the trees and see the other side of the outcrop. Sure enough, the cliff was now a rugged slope. Dorag motioned for half of his troop to follow him and the other half to stay behind in case they were detected and the enemy then tried to escape by climbing back down the cliff.

Hidden from view, Jayah watched things unfolded below. Dorag had been wrong to assume that the River Clan weren't aware of the change in the cliff. She also knew the antics of Dorag well enough to know that he was more than likely aware of the change as well, but what was important at this time, was that she had managed to trick him. When she saw Dorag and his troop head back toward the forest, she wasn't discouraged, it's what she would do if she was in his place-- set the prey at ease and then under the cover of trees, circle around for a sneak attack.

Jayah crept along, moving to the northern end of the outcrop and waited, peering out from her place of hiding and watching the forest edge for any sign of movement. Sure enough she watched as half the troop emerge near the cliff's northeast side, hugging along it's face and moving ever closer to the slope.

It was only a matter of time before the hunters would discover her ruse. She knew that they would kill her before retracing their steps in hopes of picking up the trail that led to a bigger prize, one that gave cause for her to sacrifice her life and that of her unborn child.

Jayah was in immense pain and had lost much blood. She doubled over holding onto her stomach as it turned rock hard. The contraction lasted only a moment, but she knew that it would soon return with a vengeance. Jayah presumed her child to be dead, and had suspected it yesterday, after she had been a full day in labour and the baby had stopped moving. She knew something was seriously wrong, and she also knew that a woman in labour for more than a day never survived... another of Ayah's golden rules.

Author's Note

The first two chapters are setting the stage for two individuals whose lives are about to collide in a shocking way, but there is a third individual in all of this-- the voice presenting the story is a woman from the distant future who at some point will make her debut in this Saga. I have a little difficulty at what point to introduce her, or if I should even do it now in this book-- Atalant, part1 of the Toumai Saga.