CharacterHistory/Khavin
Khavin crouched low, one hand gripping the tree branch to hold himself steady, the other tightly clinched around one of his boomerangs. He’d been right, Linowan were coming through the forest, headed for the village. If they kept going the way they were, they’d reach the village in an hour. He didn’t think the villagers could get rid of all the ways up to the treetops that fast, or that more soldiers would arrive in time. This time, Khavin was on his own. One man not yet thirty against a Linowan raiding party of twenty well-armed soldiers. If they knew the village was close by, they’d have sent many more warriors…so this was a Tree Hunt. A silent snarl of disgust and hate twisted Khavin’s brown face. Tree killers, daring to enter the forest, trying to take the great majesty of the redwoods, simply to destroy. Trying to take Haltans, just to kill them. He’d take care of them. Not one Linowan would be returning from this excursion into the Haltan Forests, not with a village at risk as well as the trees. Pulling himself up higher into the branches, Khavin began running through the treetops, hurrying to cut off the Linowan party. He knew exactly where to get them.
It took him a good fifteen minutes to reach the place where the pseudo-trail the Linowan were following passed between two huge redwoods with their branches extended across the way, making a natural doorway further into the forest. The marks on the trees above warned of the deadly danger below, but Khavin disregarded the signs. He knew what was down there, the Linowan did not. They would soon.
Quickly pulling out his long-bladed cutting knife, Khavin set to hacking leafy vines from the great trees, muttering apologies to the forest’s gods as he did so. Moving faster, he could hear the invaders somewhere in the distance, Khavin draped the heavy vines across the branches that overhung the doorway. Taking a moment to study his work and another to admire the stunning beauty of the orchids growing from the branches, he grabbed a higher branch and pulled himself easily up, vanishing from sight until the Linowan grew closer.
The first Linowan came into view, his autumn-leaf skin and black hair stood out in the lush green and ruddy brown-reds of the forest. Bark cloth and skins made up his clothing, but what captured Khavin’s attention was the mask on his face. Carved from stole redwood, the mask was a vicious monster’s face, fangs and harsh lines covered the thing. A war mask, obviously. No matter, thought Khavin. Another Linowan came into view, another. Four, six…that was enough. Hefting his spear thrower, Khavin launched a slim javelin at the Linowan standing next to the party leader. With a pleasing thud his javelin buried itself in the raider’s stomach, at an angle Khavin knew was fatal. The man’s screams almost ruined his plan, the others were so distracted by their wounded companion that it took a while before the other invaders noticed him moving about in the branches over their heads. Next time he’d have to try to take the man in the chest or head, that would be much simpler.
Seeing him, all but three of the twenty Linowan rushed toward him, a few pulling bows from their backs and trying to aim arrows at him. He ducked and dodged his way through the boughs, racing directly over the tree-door where a thick mass of vines now blocked the Linowans’ way. They drew blades as they reached the mass of vegetation blocking their way and began hacking through it. With soft twangs, the roots of the spider orchids, strong as steel wire and tight as the strings of a lute, snapped under the Linowan knives. Root-fiber lashed, flesh parted, blood ran and Linowan invaders screamed. Glancing down as he darted through the trees, hurrying off to prepare his next trap, Khavin saw that instead of twenty, he now had fifteen men following him. Seventeen, counting the two who were staying with the wounded. Three dead thanks to a javelin and a beautiful little flower. Not bad, but he had to keep the others occupied for another two hours before Haltan reinforcements arrived at the village.
Khavin ducked as an arrow whistled past his ear, turned and sent one of his boomerangs flying for the archer’s neck. A dull thud, choked scream and no whistle of returning steel told him he had found his mark. Fourteen. Linowan battlecries rose from the forest floor as he darted through the trees, headed away from the village and toward another surprise for the Linowan. They rushed after him as he knew they would. The savages would go to great lengths to capture any Haltan for ritual murder. If they caught him they’d become celebrated heroes. But they wouldn’t catch him, he would catch them and they’d become corpses. Dodging another arrow, Khavin scanned the trees for the telltale bulge of a Piranha Beetle hive, he knew one was around here somewhere. Ah! There it was, a blue-gray hemisphere nestled against the bole of an ancient oak. The trouble with using Piranha Beetles as a trap for the Linowan was that they could easily come after him. He’d have to move fast once they came out of the hive, or he’d be just a pile of gnawed bones right next to the treekillers. Dropping to just one branch above the hive, Khavin tightened his grip on another boomerang and waited.
Once six Linowan were in view, their war-masked leader at the front, Khavin yelled a Haltan battle chant. Arrows flew at him and the Linowan rushed forward. Ten yards. Eight. Five. He let his boomerang fly, grabbing a higher branch and hauling himself up as fast as he could, racing along the sturdy limb and off into another tree as the warning buzz-chatter of an angry Piranha Beetle swarm began. He caught a glimpse of the glittering blue insects flooding out of their hive in a cloud of buzz-chattering death. That cloud descended on the Linowan, a maelstrom of voracious thumb-sized beetles that tore the Linowan to bloody shreds. If he had any skill at all, he’d guess that he was now being trailed by only 10 Linowan.
It had been twenty minutes since Khavin saw one of the raiders, but he could still hear them behind him. It didn’t sound like ten men. Had the beetles been better at removing the treekillers then he’d guessed, or had another predator taken care of some? Well, whatever had killed the others, he was grateful. It sound like only five were behind him. Khavin dropped lower in the trees, almost reaching the ground and slowed his pace. Up ahead was a clearing, he could catch the Linowan there and eliminate the five with his remaining boomerangs, or at least whittle them down to one or two, which could be dealt with some other way.
Settling into a crouch hidden behind a leafy branch, Khavin waiting in the clearing. Five Linowan, two bloody from beetle-bites, emerged into the little grove. All had cudgels out, none had their bows ready. Khavin grinned and drew back his arm to throw a boomerang when his branch sheered off the tree with a loud crash, and he feel heavily to the ground. It took him a moment to clear his head, and he was still trying to figure out what had happened when five more Linowan stepped out of the underbrush behind where he had been, three holding throwing hatchets. The ten treekillers surrounded him, closing in. Khavin gave thought to fleeing, but he had to keep them busy. Not much longer, he’d taken them so far from their trail and wounded companions that by the time they got back, the village would be swarming with Haltan soldiers.
“Surrender, Barbarian.” The biggest Linowan snarled at him. Khavin just laughed and straightened to his full height, shoulders back and chin up. He would die proudly, defending his people. The Linowan raised cudgels and hatchets as he threw his last boomerang with a roar. As the boomerang left his hand, Khavin felt dizzy. Inside his head, there was a burst of light as if the sun had come down and settled behind his eyes. He saw light everywhere, brilliant golden sunlight. An arc of the glittering light followed the path of his boomerang as it scythed out, severing arteries, slashing throats, even decapitating two of the Linowan. He stood, bloody from sprayed gore, hardly able to see for the golden light filling the clearing, seeming to come from his own forehead.
In his mind, a man’s deep voice spoke. “Protect the people, Khavin. You are Chosen of the Zenith Sun, a Pillar of the Sun. This is your task.”
Khavin promptly ran, sunlight streaming around him in a corona that, he somehow knew, would be there forever.
