The night was dark, but the hounds had caught the scent and were hot on
their knew that any easing of their pace would cost them their lives. It
was her first time out on a hunt, and she had been bursting with excitement
that morning, hoping to get at least one shot in at the game that could feed
their small tribe for a week. No one had expected the headhunters to be so
close. Heels. The horses had been running for over an hour but even little
Kinlaielle
Only the steady ka-thump of the hound's paws on the ground marked their
progress, as their cords had been cut for the hunt. She didn't realize how
much ground they had gained until a sharp pain lurched through her leg,
lancing up to her powerful snap of its head brought her tumbling free of the
mount. Kinlaielle had been trained to fight sooner than she had been taught
to walk, and a bone dagger appeared in her hand even as she hit the
leaf-covered ground. The elder who taught the classes saw potential in her,
and had picked her out for specialized flashed, cutting off part of the
dog's ear, but the animal tightened its grip on her leg, pulling some of the
flesh free and cracking some of the bone. Kin struck again and the blade
sliced through the dog's teeth, finally freeing her. Training. None of the
finesse she had learned would save her now. The dagger thigh. The girl
turned to see the dog's eyes gleaming in the darkness, before a
Several less serious bites later, Kinlaielle sat with the corpse of the dog.
Her tribe's horses had vanished from sight, but she knew where they had
camped. More importantly, part of her training had included scouting out
their next campsite. She managed to tuck herself into the relative safety
of a fallen tree and twist her belt around her still bleeding foot before
darkness came over her.
The next two weeks were not easy. Her leg was broken, bearing weight only
when she compensated by leaning against a heavy staff. Berries and rainfall
sustained her as she limped towards the campsite, but she arrived too late.
Ashes were all that remained of their campsite, and she had no chance of
catching them on foot. She was alone.
Days passed as Kinlaielle sat by that fireplace, feeling more alone than she
had thought possible. Infection flourished in her leg, previously kept at
bay by the twice daily tending. Fever took over and Kinlaielle fell back,
caught up in dreams of a tribe who would not abandon her. So lost was she
in deciding which of her former tribe mates she would want to take with her,
that she didn't realize that she was no longer alone. A cleric had found
her, while stepping away from the road for his business. His party worked
together to carry her to a nearby monastery, where she awoke several weeks
later.
Knowing only that time had passed and that she had been disarmed and
disrobed, Kinlaielle flung herself out of the bed she had been tucked into,
spotting her clothing cleaned and folded in a nearby table. Vowing to kill
whoever had taken her captive with her bare hands, just as soon as she was
dressed, the once promising young fighter failed to stand. Sprawled on the
floor, Kinlaielle was just sitting up when a monk arrived at the door. He
spoke gently to her, moving her help her, but she stopped him with an angry,
almost desperate snap of her hand. That moment hung in the air as she
looked at the place where her leg used to be and the monk looked at her.
She caught his look a moment before he stopped, and the pity she saw there
made her even angrier. She was destined to die young, she knew that, but
she would die in the glory of battle, not live on with one leg and nothing
to contribute. The monks had other plans.
For nearly a year she stayed in the monastery, learning how to walk with the
peg leg they had fitted to her, and losing herself again in thoughts of her
tribe and imagining what sorts of tricks she could play on their foes to
give them the advantage. Darning socks would become fantastic dragons
tearing at the flesh of their foes. This continued until the day one of the
other wards of the monks saw her. The young boy screamed, shattering the
illusion she hadn't known she was making. Kinlaielle was beginning to
realize that she could have her glory, even with one leg.
She waited until the winter thaws had run their course, then slipped away
from the monastery in the middle of the night. She had a tribe to find.
