Tuli'mak

It had been a beautiful Autumn day on the Tundra; the light of Tor Tu' Gor was warm and wide, the winds were soft in their whispered stirrings, the song of many birds and insects filled the air with sweet sounds. It had been a good day of trading for several among us; our bellies were full, and we were content with our leisure. Talk soon began; and where proud men gather for such things, women will be discussed.

My remark had not been intended to offer offense, it had been a simple statement of a very personal truth; I had said that his slave "did not satisfy me", for indeed she did not. It was through no fault of her own, no shortcoming of her manners or willing compliance; it was me, her touch was not the one I missed. It was not her soft voice my ears listened for; it was not the warmth of her embrace my arms remembered. I had not told him these things; we do not speak of such intimacies for the ears of other men. We speak them for the ears of our women; and my words, were for the ears of my vexation, Melete.

I had been seated upon a fur within a circle of other men, listening and eating; speaking little, and enjoying the fine meal that lay spread between us. Lilyana fluidly swept among us in service, gracefully refilling cups and bowls as required. Her hip had barely brushed my shoulder as she passed; she had paused and turned lowering her eyes, her lips offered the faintest hint of a saucy smile as she begged softly "mercy Master." I had inclined my head and looked away, giving it no more thought and returning my focus to the meal.

"You do not enjoy her" Tulimak had remarked with a curious cant of his head toward the girl. Pulling a hunk of meat from the tabuk bone with my teeth, chewing it as I shook my head and swallowed, I spoke "she does not satisfy me." I saw his head turn and his eyes narrow; pride rose within his bearing as anger showed its color upon his face. "She is entirely satisfying" he spoke in a voice raised with insistence. "She is entirely pleasing, but satisfaction comes not from pleasure alone" I replied.

His broad shoulder rippled, his thick arm moved; instinctively my left hand flew up to shield my head from a blow. The sudden impact of his wrist against the back of my forearm emptied the bowl his hand gripped of its contents; hot strong paga was splashed over the food and faces gathered around us. I looked upon their astonished expressions; I lowered my arm and settled my hand upon my knee.

I turned blue green eyes glittering with the cold sheen of ice upon Tulimak, then spoke plainly with a calm voice loud enough to be heard by many around us, "We go to sand." Tulimak had acted in haste, from wounded pride. I had spoke in humility, from embarrassment. I did not want to fight this man, but I would; I did not want this kill this man, but I did.

Our fight was not particularly long, nor brutal; I had no reason to participate in the spectacle any longer than necessary. I knew the finality of the sand even as I stepped into the wide torchlit ring; only one, leaves it alive.
I made up my mind to kill him quickly if I could, and have done with it. I was not bound to this fight by such a small detail as wounded pride. I was bound to it by honor; and among matters of honor, there are no small details.

I used what I knew of the man to form a plan of attack upon him. He had once been stabbed below the ribs, and now he feared this; he was proud and liked to have the higher hand if he could; he had tried to strike me with his right hand, and now likely believed me to be left handed. With these things in mind, I would take him; for I, am a Hunter.

With the short but sturdy utility knife in my left hand I opened my attack, playing for his stomach and ribs with slices and jabs. I gouged him here, raked him there, yet he felt nothing; I encouraged his belief in his sheath of protection to grow. Several times we parried and came to blows, always I moved forward upon my left feeding more into my deception. I learned that often enough in pride he would overextend himself for the chance of landing a blow; he was angry now, not thinking clearly, exposing himself and risking much, for little.

We advanced, clashed and parried a fourth time and when I withdrew from the rain of his blows I feigned a stumble. My left arm swept high, open and exposed to a swing of his blade. His head turned slightly with his shoulder as his arm committed the knife to its sweep in a lunging overreach for a perceived advantage. Pivoting on my hips and shifting my weight forward upon the balls of my right foot, I balanced myself and swung the canphi with my right hand powerfully toward the side of his throat. I felt the certain finality of the antler's sharp and tapered tine sink deeply into flesh and gouge past bone.

Death was upon Tulimak where he stood; quivering as the chisel point of the antler's tine protruded from below his right ear, having been driven completely through with the force of the blow from his left . His mouth coughed out crimson clots to drip from his chattering teeth and trembling lips. I stepped into him then, guiding my left arm around his chest to brace him as the knife fell from his hand. I spun the handle of the canphi upwards and wrenched down upon it harshly until I heard the snapping of bones; killing him mercifully before I withdrew the weapon from the wound. Tulimak fell lifeless against my chest and among my arms. Holding him close and firmly, gently I lowered him to the ground; and released him upon the sand.
Standing to my full height and lifting the bloody dripping canphi above my head, I stepped forward placing my left foot firmly upon the dead man's neck. I spoke loudly, and clearly "who claims this man?" Many eyes watched, many ears listened; yet no voice spoke. Tulimak, was now mine. I moved my foot from him and watched the life pour away from him as a crimson stain spreading upon the sand beneath his head.