Page 34 of Sun Warrior

“And yet the God has surely shown Her favor by healing him, making him Champion, and mating him with Her Oracle,” another Harvester called Thunder added.

“It is not the way of the People,” Stalker repeated stubbornly.

Dead Eye thought it interesting that Stalker only flicked occasional glances at him and was speaking to the rest of the men almost as if Dead Eye weren’t even there.

“But the Oracle has proclaimed change. The old, sickened Watchers have been replaced by young, nubile Attendants—just as our Champion’s cracked, putrid flesh has been replaced by new, unmarred skin,” said a Hunter named Eagle Eye, and he bowed respectfully to his Champion.

“Indeed!” the Hunter, Serpent, chimed in. “He has the God’s favor. And that is enough of the way of the People for me.”

“Truth!”

“Yes!” the remaining men murmured agreement, sending nervous glances to Stalker before bowing respectfully to their Champion. Then the group fell silent as they waited for their Champion to speak.

Instead of words, Dead Eye decided actions would be heard much louder and last much longer.

With the speed of a forest creature Dead Eye lowered his head and charged Stalker. In a movement so fast that his hand blurred, Dead Eye unsheathed the triple-pointed knife at his waist and thrust it into thesoftest part of Stalker’s belly with such ferocious strength that his hand was driven into the warm, wet flesh, creating a fist-sized cavern in the Hunter’s gut. As Stalker screamed his shock and agony, Dead Eye catapulted the man backward so that he flew over the edge of the ridge. At the last instant, while Stalker seemed to be suspended over the gorge, Dead Eye wrenched his fist from the Hunter’s body with a terrible sucking sound, setting Stalker free to fall down, down into the chasm and the death that waited below.

Dead Eye wiped his bloody hand across his bare chest, adding a scarlet slash through the bold three-pointed designs already painted there by Dove’s Attendants. Slowly, he turned to face the watching men.

As one, all nine dropped to their knees before Dead Eye, pressing their faces into the ground.

“Does anyone else wish to question my authority?” he bellowed, feeling the hot blood of a mighty stag surging through his body.

Iron Fist lifted his head. “Never, Champion! I follow you as I would follow the Reaper Herself should She rise from Her balcony and walk among us.”

“And the rest of you?”

The other eight men raised their heads more slowly, though none of them hesitated in their response. “Iron Fist speaks for me,” said Serpent. “I follow you as I would follow the God Herself.”

“And I! I, too!” the rest of the men chorused their agreement.

“Do all of you see the God in me?”

Iron Fist glanced at the other men, meeting each of their eyes before he answered his Champion. “We do. Tell your Harvesters and Hunters what it is you would command, and we will obey. We will always obey.”

Dead Eye almost corrected the Harvester. He meant to. His intention hadn’t been to be worshipped like a God, as he was all too aware of what it was to worship a false God. He had only wanted to bring health and a better life to his dying people. But as he opened his mouth to speak, to tell Iron Fist that there was no God within him, only the People’s Champion, the words would not come. Try as he might, Dead Eye found he could not speak them. Instead, something stirred andbegan to awaken within him as he stared down at Iron Fist and the rest of the men who remained on their knees, awaiting his command. The men’s supplication pleased Dead Eye as much as Stalker’s death had pleased him.

A thought, as elusive as fog, drifted through Dead Eye’s mind—Take that which is owed you.

“Harvesters and Hunters, what I command today is that you accept the gift I am going to give you, just as I accept your oath of loyalty. Come, rise and hunt with me.”

Iron Fist stood with the rest of the men. “But some of us are not Hunters. We are only Harvesters,” he said.

Dead Eye felt his chest swell with newfound strength as he replied, “Fear not—not your lack of abilities, not the forest. YouwereHarvesters or Hunters. I proclaim that by the end of this day you will all be known as Reapers in the company of their God!”

***

Making an effort to slow his pace so that he didn’t leave the nine men far, far behind, Dead Eye headed down into the gorge. Because today’s rain was the first in several weeks, the stream that ran through the bottom of the chasm was lower than usual, which made a crossing spot easy to find. As Dead Eye anticipated, they didn’t have to wait long before creatures, driven by the forest fire to find solace in water, began to make their way to the stream.

Mostly, the creatures were small. There were many rabbits and rats, squirrels and mice, that paraded past them after they drank deeply of the water. And that was as it should be. Large forest creatures were scarce, especially this close to the City.

From a makeshift blind he and the men hastily erected, Dead Eye sat in complete silence, waiting for a sign.

The sign came sooner than he had anticipated.

The boar was a red behemoth with a huge, wrinkled snout punctuated by two sets of pointed tusks—smaller, hooked uppers and long, sharp lowers. His chest was so wide and thickly muscled that he appeared to be wearing armor. He waded part of the way into the stream andburied his mighty head in the water, splashing and grunting in pleasure. Dead Eye was so close that he could smell the sharp tang of the virile male’s body. The boar snorted and shook himself, spraying droplets of water around him like an unfurling cloak. Then he started wading through the stream, picking his way around rocks and debris. It seemed as if he was going to pass almost within touching distance of where Dead Eye and his Reapers crouched, silent and hidden.

The boar stepped onto the bank. He stopped and lifted his massive head, turning so that his golden eye looked directly at Dead Eye. The boar froze and the dark center of his eye expanded so that within it Dead Eye saw his own reflection. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, the boar’s muzzle dropped to touch the earth, and he bowed his head.