You're probably wondering what on Earth I'm writing about. Allow me to give you the (absolutely terrible) first chapter. It needs a lot of work, but I neither have the time nor the commitment right now. Undertaking NaNoWriMo is enough without having to make it excellent at the same time.
So here is the first chapter of 'The Tongueless'...
* * *
The Hunt
It was a pleasure to burn. The desert sun beat down on Katia’s bare shoulders. Her nut brown skin drank up the abundant rays of spectacularly hot sunlight, tinting the tanned skin a slightly inflamed reddish-brown colour. Katia knew that it was going to hurt later, but she didn’t care – it was far too hot to be wearing her long, tattered hunting robes that were designed to keep the sun off her in the daytime and the cold from her at night. Instead, she wore a custom-made top without sleeves. The sun burnt the skin despite her dark tan, but she didn’t mind. Everyone knew that the middle of the day was the best time to go looking for camels. They didn’t like the sun, and would be resting in the shade at this time of day. She knew exactly where to find them.
Katia crouched low as she peered around the side of a badly eroded boulder. She smiled in a self-satisfied manner. Just as she had predicted, the camels were by the spring, drinking their fill of water in the shade of some large rocks. They were so intent on filling their guts with the life-granting liquid that they didn’t even look around to see if any predators were about. But, of course, hardly anything would attack a camel. That would be foolish. That’s exactly what I am, thought Katia. Foolish.
Silently, she slid her dual gazelle-horn knives from their camel-skin sheaths. She took a moment to admire their simple beauty: Two long, thin slivers of bone taken from the skull of an old, strong gazelle’s carcass. They were remarkably straight for naturally-occurring horns, and they ended in lethally sharp points that had been filed down over the years. They were Katia’s most prized possessions, and possibly the single two objects that kept her alive.
Katia pulled her gaze away from the customised weapons and set her attention on the camels that were glugging water from the spring. After a quick analysis of the situation, she singled out a smaller, slightly younger specimen that was getting pushed back every time it tried to drink. Going by past encounters, this would be the animal to go for. It was probably the youngest of the group, therefore making it the weakest. This was the one that she was going to try and take down.
Being careful to stay downwind of the camels and out of their sight, Katia got herself into position behind a boulder close to the camels. As quickly as she could, she jumped at the boulder and scrabbled up, keeping her gazelle-horn knives in her hands instead of using them as handholds. After all, Katia didn’t want to break her weapons. She knew from experience that it would be very difficult to strangle a large animal. Better to slit its throat, spill its blood and be done with it.
When Katia was safely on top of the chunk of rock that was now her lookout post, she surveyed the camels again. They were still attempting to drown themselves without getting their hides wet. None of them had smelt, seen or heard her scramble up the rock. That was good. While the camels were distracted, she might just manage to pull off her daring scheme.
Crouched atop her rock, Katia had an unprecedented view of the surrounding environment. The boulder on top of which she now crouched was one of several which lined the edges of the spring. It was a perfect trapping ground. The camels no doubt knew of the danger posed by this place, but they needed to drink, and this was the only place that they could do so for miles around.
She gazed at the water, noticing her reflection in the clear pool. Katia noted with satisfaction the long, slender face and smooth skin, broken only by her thin mouth and amber eyes. Above the eyes sat impossibly thin black eyebrows that matched the colour of her hair, which tied into a tight bun that rested in the nape of her neck.
Katia shook herself for becoming distracted and proceeded to make one final check. The camel that she was targeting was within range. That was all she needed. As long as it stayed within a metre either side of that spot, she could take it.
She readied her knives and pulled herself into a tight position with her feet under her main body. She made sure that her sturdy, practical shoes were firmly placed on the top of the rock, and that she wouldn’t slip when she made her move. She tucked her arms into her sides, tensed her muscles, closed her eyes, and jumped.
Her eyes snapped open as she flew through the air, legs elongated behind her, arms outstretched before her, weapons clutched tightly in her hands pointing downwards at an angle. Her wide eyes saw the camel that she was after, and she also saw the ground beginning to approach her, denying her attempt to escape the grasp of gravity. As always, for a moment she thought she would not make it, and that this hunt would be her last. If she did not make it, then she would most likely never get up to hunt again. Neither she nor her family could afford that. But then she saw the camel less than a metre below her airborne form, and knew that she still had the skill to make a kill.
With a deft flick, Katia rolled her body so that she spun in the air as she passed over the target camel. Then, just as all seemed lost, she was facing the camel’s side. Without a moment’s hesitation, she slammed the bone knives into the sides of the camel.
An excruciating cry escaped the camel. Katia’s legs hit the top of the beast’s back and hooked around the camel’s single hump. Hanging almost upside down, Katia could see the blood leaking upwards towards the ground that was now the ceiling of her world. With difficulty, she dragged the knives towards her, tearing through flesh, fur and muscle. The panicked creature began to move around, despite the grievous injury inflicted upon it. Katia just shoved her knives deeper into the camel’s innards and wrapped her legs tighter around the camel’s hump as it bucked around.
With difficulty, Katia pulled herself up onto the camel’s back, removing her knives as she did so. She flicked them around in her hand so that the points faced the insides of her arms, spraying a line of warm blood across her face. Katia didn’t move to wipe it away. Her philosophy was that if it didn’t affect you negatively, then you left it alone.
The camel’s killer moved so that she was almost straddling the camel’s thick neck. Then she leant forwards, planting her face in the neck-fur of the desert dweller. Deftly, she manoeuvred her right hand so that the knife in it was held like a conventional weapon: Handle held, with the blade pointing away from the user. Then she stabbed the blade in the left hand deep into the camel’s throat.
A pitiful scream passed the animal’s leathery lips as the sharp bone pushed through flesh and muscle to tickle the inside of the back of the camel’s throat. Then she slashed above where she had just stabbed with her right-hand knife. Blood splashed down onto her stabbing hand, making it wet and sticky. The creature’s cry died prematurely before the dying animal’s legs gave way, plunging the great beast’s face into the sandy ground. The camel came to rest lying on its stomach, the contents of which had been spread around the spring like a gory painting.
Katia extracted her weapon from where it was stuck in the camel’s neck, eliciting a sighing groan of pain and misery. She rolled off the top of the camel and lay in the sand, where she released her bloody knives. She lay there a moment, catching her breath.
That, she thought, was difficult.
When she had finished gathering her strength, she sat up and gripped her weapons with renewed strength. The job wasn’t over yet.
She crawled over to the stricken creature and put an arm around its neck. There was fear in its eyes; a primal fear which had its origins millions of years in the past.
“Fear not, my friend,” recited Katia in the secret language of her family. “You shall be much honoured among our people for the sacrifice of your life. May you rest in peace, knowing that your death brings life to many.”
Then she sliced through the creature’s neck, burying the knife in the vertebrae of the camel’s neck. She heard the animal’s final sigh escape from the broken throat of the camel, then it was dead. It was just a chunk of meat sitting in the sand.
Not just a chunk of meat, she reminded herself. It’s a roomful of meat, a backpack of bone tools and a set of new clothes for almost everyone in the family.
So it was that Katia set to work, skinning the beast’s mighty torso and slicing off chunks of flesh to be cooked, dried or stored. She retrieved a large sack with shoulder straps from the place where she had hidden it earlier, and began filling it with bloody slabs of camel and bones of various shapes and sizes. She would be able to carry the hide that she had gathered in her hands. She could probably manage to carry some of the larger leg bones, but only a few. She didn’t half infinite strength, and it was a mile at least to the camp.
With a sigh, Katia went back to work, skinning, slicing and bagging camel parts. As always, the hunt had just been the beginning.
* * *
Excuse the opening line. Some of you might notice that it's off of 'Fahrenheit 451'. I just thought it very minorly appropriate, plus it corresponds to a NaNoDare.
So, give me your comments if you please. I'll take them into account after November.
Go WriMo!
No comments:
Post a Comment