A Hollow Mountain (The Brightest Shadow Book 2), page 12
At the end of the village there was one impressive structure: a massive home built entirely of wood, the top beam still resembling the tree that had been felled to form the backbone. It looked less warm, but shouts and laughter burst from the windows. Currently the two large doors stood open, though from their angle it was difficult to see more than some of the wooden interior.
As they entered, the warriors hurled down their packs near the entrance to the village. A number of men emerged to take the stolen goods. Slaten saw a few greet the returning warriors cheerfully, and one Bloodskin affectionately gripped the head of a young man who might be his son. For the most part, the new men were ignored, and one who got in the way was shoved to the side so hard that he collapsed against the wall of another house.
The village climbed up the side of the hill, so the eye was drawn to the largest building, but Slaten found himself looking back at the other men. Most were younger than the warriors, though not all. His first theory regarding a hierarchy of age seemed to be incorrect. Looking closer, he saw that none of the men in the village appeared to be warriors.
"This way!" Gatoda wrapped his arm around Melal's shoulders and pulled him upward. "We must introduce you to Chief Bufogu in the grand hall!"
They hiked up the central street of the village, passing numerous houses. Slaten looked for markets, stores, or other specialized buildings, but saw only a few storerooms. He hadn't expected a group of raiders to have a thriving community, but he was surprised there were no smithies. Then again, he had noted that their weapons were a strange mixture of styles, so perhaps they stole all their equipment.
So far he had seen no women at all, but when they neared the large hall a small crowd of them emerged. Slaten hesitated, his instincts making his hand wander toward his sword, though that instinct was completely wrong. What troubled him was that unlike the joyous warriors, or even the non-warrior men, most did not look happy to see the returning raiders.
They shuffled forward as a group, many of them taking cloaks or weapons from the warriors. One young woman leapt into the arms of a young warrior, and another Bloodskin pulled a woman into a kiss, grabbing her backside tightly. Overall, however, they looked quiet and withdrawn. Though they wore many ragged layers, similar to the men, they wore darker colors of rougher fabric.
"The two of you, come!" Gatoda stopped before the open doors and gestured for Slaten to join Melal. "You must go before the chief and show yourselves to be men!"
When Slaten stepped forward, Laeri moved with him, trying to grasp Melal's arm. She looked excited but disoriented in the new location, until the moment when Gatoda roughly slapped her hands away.
"No women in the grand hall. Let her go with the others."
"Melal..." Laeri tried to touch his arm again. "I don't know anyone here..."
"Don't worry, Laeri, I'll be fine." Melal turned and gave her a reassuring grin. "Just go with them while I show everyone who I am."
Laeri didn't look happy, but she obeyed, backing into the group of women while still watching them. Though the somber Bloodskin women still gave Slaten the sense that something was wrong, he didn't think Laeri was in any danger. Later he would have to ask her what she thought of the local women, though he found himself wishing he had Tani's insight instead.
Finally they entered the grand hall. Massive as it loomed, the interior was simply furnished: a rough wooden table filled most of the floor, while the walls were covered by a chaotic collection of stolen banners. Above he saw only the rafters, though several Catai skulls had been hung from them as trophies.
Only one man sat at the table, seated on an ornate throne. It was made from a silvery wood with golden trim, by far the finest object Slaten had seen in the village. The man atop it could not have been more different, cast from the same mold as the other raiders, just far larger. His clothes were brilliantly scarlet, and when he stood he revealed a powerful body that was half a head taller than Slaten.
"Gatoda!" The man, presumably Chief Bufogu, spread his arms wide. "I have heard that you sank your teeth into two rich caravans and returned with great riches!"
"Chief Bufogu." Though Gatoda didn't bow, exactly, he lowered his head in the first gesture of deference Slaten had seen among the Bloodskins. "They were hard fought battles, but not so hard as those we fought against our new friends! They may be lowlanders, but hot blood flows in their veins!"
A shove from behind Slaten propelled him forward, just managing to stay on his feet. He ended up beside Melal, who had stepped forward as if expecting to be praised. Both of them stood across the table from Chief Bufogu, whose smile waned as he stared at them.
"And just who are these two, to bring them into our hall?"
"I am the Hero!" Melal stepped forward and started to draw his sword, but before he could finish the movement, Bufogu leapt up onto the table and kicked him in the chest. He went flying back into one of the walls, bringing a gale of laughter from the others.
"We have enough Bloodskins," Bufogu said flatly, glaring down Gatoda. "We don't need any more mouths to feed."
Gatoda grimaced to hide a flinch and stepped forward. "Chief, you should have seen how the two of them fought. They may be what we need to overcome the Deathspawn at the passes."
"We shall see." The Chief of the Bloodskins turned to stare down at Slaten, who tasted blood in his mouth and realized just how overwhelming this opponent would be. "And who are you, lowlander?"
"I am..." Slaten hesitated, drawing a careful breath, "...not the Hero."
To his surprise, that brought laughter from the other warriors. Bufogu did not smile, and it looked as though he contemplated striking out again. Before the chief could decide, Melal clambered back to his feet. Despite the blow he had just taken, his eyes still shone brightly.
"You're strong!" Melal thumped his chest and stepped back up to the table. "But that doesn't change who I am." All eyes fell on him now, many of the warriors murmuring. Chief Bufogu remained unaffected, leaping down from the table to stand in front of the shorter man.
"You're really the Hero? The one destined to destroy all his enemies, steal the greatest of treasures, and extend his clan over the entire world?" Though he spoke with derision, Melal didn't budge.
"Watch and see."
This response got a chorus of approval from the warriors, enough that Bufogu laughed and clapped Melal on the back. But Slaten was watching the Chief's eyes, and the laughter never reached them. The Chief of the Bloodskins might be a brutal fighter, but he was no fool. He had seen that his warriors approved and decided not to cause a confrontation. Far from being taken in by the Hero's light, he saw it as a threat and denied it.
"Prove yourself a man, first, then maybe you can prove yourself a hero." Bufogu turned back toward the table, speaking loudly enough that he recaptured the attention from Melal. "There was meant to be a feast to celebrate your raid, but as you can see, our table lies empty. Where is that worthless boy?"
A man standing several steps away from the crowd of warriors now flinched. He took a step forward and began to say something, though it earned him only a cuff to the face.
"Bring the food and wine, boy! Give the men their due!"
As the man nodded desperately and rushed away, Slaten watched him carefully. Despite the word boy, he was perhaps thirty years old. Combined with all that he had heard, Slaten decided that the Bloodskins treated all those who were untrained as children. That would be difficult in an ordinary society, given how few trained effectively with sein, yet the Bloodskins seemed to have an unusually high number of warriors.
They sat down at the table and groused, as it seemed the food was not ready. Instead Chief Bufogu called for drink, which came in the form of many scattered mugs, from clay to pewter to iron. The trays were carried by women, walking in the great hall despite what had been said earlier. Did they not count?
A woman brought Slaten a clay mug and filled it with wine. He tried to make eye contact with her, but she completely avoided his gaze. The wine itself tasted bitter and unwatered.
That mattered less than the way the chief had reacted to Melal, and even now sparred with him as they spoke. So many were taken in by the Hero, yet not him. The leaders of the Coran resistance had also seemed immune, at least for a time.
Canny though Bufogu might be, Slaten doubted that he had any great wisdom or complex mental arts such as Tani had taught them. His sein seemed to burn with raw strength and nothing else... could that alone resist the Legend? It seemed impossible, though he remembered how easily the Zeitai had killed the Hero when they fought him. The mystery was no closer to being resolved than before. If anything, the Chief seemed armored by his utter certainty in himself, lacking doubts for the Legend to cover over with answers. Despite what he'd learned from Tani, Slaten could never eliminate those weaknesses in himself.
His meandering thoughts were interrupted when Bufogu slammed a large drinking horn down on the table. "Let it be so! If you wish to fight with us, prove yourselves men. You have drawn blood on a raid, but you have not proven yourselves here."
"Fight with you?" Melal drew himself up. "You will fight w-"
"Are you backing down from the challenge?" Bufogu rose as well, again looming over Melal. The shorter man didn't back down, but Slaten could see that he had already been drawn in.
"Never! Show me your little challenge!"
Chief Bufogu grinned, a glint in his eye. "Then let it be so! If the women and children are not ready for us to feast, then let us bring back more food for them. I'm hungry for... knifegale eggs."
A shout went up among the warriors, many of whom rose to their feet or rushed to finish their drinks. Though Slaten didn't understand what exactly the challenge meant, he was still swept up in their movement. The whole group began trampling the ground outside the great hall, letting out shouts similar to their war cries.
Over his shoulder, Slaten noticed several men and women approaching the great hall with trays of food. They saw the group, sighed, and turned around. If the Bloodskins conducted challenges like this on a whim, at least this was normal and not some pretext for execution. A number of younger men from the clan came with them, made to carry bundles of spears.
They marched further than he expected, the warriors chanting and joking with one another. There seemed to be little space for questions, and Slaten suspected that they would be considered weak in any case. Melal marched beside Bufogu, the two of them glaring at each other so consistently that it was almost comical, if not for the violence underneath.
Eventually they reached a strange hill, void of most of the small trees and bushes common to the area. Instead several massive trees jutted upward, their gnarled roots clutching the rocks around them as if they drew strength by crushing stone.
Slaten let his eyes slide from tree to tree, each standing apart, wondering what they had to do with the knifegale eggs. The most likely answer made him glance upward. Though he saw nothing at first, eventually he spotted a large gray hawk perched on a branch, staring down at them. If that was a knifegale, then the challenge was starting to become clear.
"Boys!" Chief Bufogu let out a bellow and struck one of the younger men on the shoulder. "These lowlanders want to become men before you. Will you let that happen?"
The young men let out a wordless shout, though the hatred in their eyes spoke enough. They then began moving out across the hill, still carrying the spears. That suggested that the challenge might be more dangerous than Slaten had expected, but there was no time to watch them, because the Chief was rounding on him, grabbing his shoulder and tugging him from the group.
"I know lowlanders do not know our ways, so I will explain. Boys who wish to eat at our table must prove themselves by running to these great trees, climbing them, and stealing an egg from the nests above. It is an act that proves your blood... and the eggs are good eating."
"And the boys with spears?" Slaten asked. Bufogu glanced at him briefly and just laughed.
"We couldn't make it too easy, could we?"
It seemed there would be no more preparations, the challenge would simply begin. As all the Bloodskin warriors pulled back, Slaten found himself standing alongside Melal at the base of the hill. Ahead of them lay the steep slope filled with armed men, then the trees with the eggs at the top. Allegedly. From what Slaten knew of birds, he did not think they kept eggs throughout the year, and he wasn't confident that the Bloodskins cared about such details.
"One of you, go!" Gatoda called out from behind them, so Slaten looked over at Melal. The other man shrugged, then pushed him forward. Of course Melal would make him go first.
Seeing no alternative, Slaten advanced carefully. One of the men hurled a spear at him almost immediately, but the boy barely understood his sein and Slaten easily stepped aside. As he moved up the hill, most of the others simply watched and waited with their spears ready. Other than one wild throw that sailed over his head, they waited until he reached the tree.
Slaten set his hand on one of the lower branches, but instead of lifting himself up, he drew all his sein into his legs and leapt. He lacked Tani's familiarity with arts of leaping, but he could jump far enough to instead grasp a large branch further up the tree.
Several spears struck the wood below. Now the challenge had begun.
Though he hadn't climbed a tree since he was a child, the bark was thick and it was easy to dig his fingers into it. As he climbed higher, more spears were hurled at him, but he was surprised at how little they threatened him. It would have been easiest and fastest to dodge aside, but he suspected that the Bloodskins would not respect that. So instead he wasted time striking the spears out of the air. As he climbed higher, still untouched, he heard appreciative shouts from the gathered warriors.
By the time he neared the top of the tree, most of the spears fell short. That was fortunate, because the thinning trunk made it more difficult to climb. At least he could see a large nest ahead, hopefully containing an egg.
Just as he reached it, a flurry of gray struck his face. The bird moved with surprising speed, lashing out at his face with its claws. He felt stinging pain... but no blood. His defensive arts might not hold against a direct blow from a weapon, but the knifegale's claws were too weak to cut his flesh.
It was fast and agile, however, even compared to his sein-trained speed. So Slaten simply ignored it as he pulled himself the rest of the way up. There he found the nest, which indeed contained several large eggs, gray with flecks of black. He reached out to grasp one, weathering scratches at his hand, and then began to lower himself back down.
Though it would have been most impressive to drop the rest of the way, Slaten wasn't sure his sein could survive such a fall. Without that support, his legs would definitely snap. The Bloodskins had scorned him enough during the time when his arm had been broken, so he didn't want to see how they would treat him if he broke his legs.
Climbing down with the egg in one hand was slightly more difficult, but not much. When he got closer to the ground, he gripped the egg carefully so it wouldn't break, then dropped the rest of the way. He crouched there, on his guard for more spears.
Instead he heard only cheers from the warriors and curses from the young men. It seemed that the trial was over and he needed only to bring back the egg.
When he walked up and placed it in the hands of Bufogu, he saw a measure of respect in the Chief's eyes. "Perhaps you aren't boys after all. But your friend the mighty hero must prove himself as well."
"You think I can't?" Melal stepped forward onto the hill. "I allowed Slaten to go first to show you that we are men. Now I'll show you that I'm the Hero."
With that declaration, he launched himself forward at a dead sprint. The young men with the spears seemed surprised and only two attempted a throw. They readied themselves as Melal reached the tree... and smashed directly into it.
The impact shook the entire tree, sending several knifegales flapping away. All of the spear throwers shrank back in surprise, unable to move as Melal drew his sword and began hacking at the tree. Each mighty blow shone in the sun, even from a distance, and soon the tree began falling to the side with a thunderous rumble.
Melal rushed along with the falling trunk, then leapt into the air. All the Bloodskin warriors witnessed as he plucked the nest out of the air, several eggs still inside. The ground trembled as the tree shook, but all eyes were on Melal as he landed smoothly, then presented the nest to Chief Bufogu.
"You wanted some eggs?"
The result was uproarious laughter and cheering. Bufogu joined them, though his eyes remained hard. Slaten couldn't find the humor in it. Perhaps Melal's solution was valid, but it struck him as contrary to the challenge. Climbing the tree while defending against spears required a strong practical knowledge of sein, so reaching the top demonstrated the raw strength that all Bloodskin warriors possessed. Knocking down the tree demonstrated strength of a different sort, of course.
Two of the warriors hefted Melal up onto their shoulders and carried him that way as they returned to the village. They moved at a far faster pace, leaving the young men behind. When last Slaten saw them, he saw more than a few glares, though also a troubling number in awe of Melal.
As they ran, Slaten matched pace with Gatoda. "Does that make us Bloodskin men?"
"Not really." Gatoda frowned, for a moment falling from the rapturous celebrations surrounding Melal. "Normally boys retrieve an egg, then kill an enemy, then endure the blood ritual to become men. You have done everything out of order."
"The blood ritual?"
"It is nothing to concern yourselves with." Gatoda shook off the question and just grinned at him. "You have proven that you are not boys and are welcome at our table. Eat! Eat and celebrate!"
When they returned to the village, they were ushered into the great hall, where a feast had now been laid out on the table. Almost all the attention fell on Melal, but Slaten preferred that, as he struggled to match the enthusiasm of the event.
