Hand of Fire (The Master of the Tane) (57 page)

              The bird watched closely as he paddled his canoe away from his hiding place and closer to the tree. He figured it would be easy to release the bird. All he had to do was cut the rope from its leg and it could fly away. But as he drew nearer, a strange sound rumbled in the bird’s throat and then, like a bolt of lightning, its beak shot down reaching for his head. Luckily, the sudden movement wrenched the bent tree just enough from the tangled branches so that the rope pulled hard on the bird’s foot and jerked it back. Teek felt its beak brush against the top of his head as it clamped its mouth shut with a loud crack. A shudder raced through his body. Had it not been for the tree slipping, he would be dead.

             
Wiping sweat from his eyes, he took some deep breaths and tried to calm his racing heart. “I hadn’t counted on that.”

The giant bird let out another deafening screech. Teek’s arm distinctively shot up to fend off another assault but he quickly realized that the bird was not attacking but was, instead, in a desperate situation. Its roped leg had been pulled up and back so far that the bird now tottered and swayed precariously and had to fight to keep its balance and stay upright. Teek looked up at the bent limb that creaked and groaned against the tangled branches as if complaining to be set free. Each movement the bird made brought it a little closer to fully triggering the trap. If the bird kept up its thrashing movements, it would not be long before it dangled from the limb with its head buried deep in the water.

Teek made cooing noises to try and calm it down while he maneuvered his canoe to the side. “Best go at this from the back if either of us is going to make it out of here alive.”

Just then, a loud shout echoed through the swamp drawing Teek’s attention away from the task at hand. The bird cried loudly and started thrashing about moving the bent tree limb dangerously close to freedom. Teek scanned the swamp searching for the newcomers and then
spotted them. Two large men, about three Teague tree lengths away, were paddling towards them.

“Hold it right there!” one yelled pointing an oar at him.

              Teek was desperate. “These must be the men who did this,” he said looking up at the bird who continued its thrashing and screaming. “I have to get you loose now or we’re both dead.” He shot his canoe towards the back of the tree. The bird stopped its gyrations and watched him ready to fire its beak at any moment. Because of its position and the drag on the rope, Teek felt fairly safe from any more attacks, though he knew that another attempt might trigger the trap completely. It was now a race of time against the men in the boat, paddling furiously, the trap that could spring any moment, the bird looming ominously overhead ready to strike, and him trying to get to the rope.

The large bird let out another cry as Teek neared the back of the tree. Feeling its life was about to end, the great bird began to thrash, crying out a desperate noise. Teek watched in horror as the tree swayed dangerously, the awful sound of breaking limbs and groaning tension crackling through the air. He had to hurry. Any second now and the tree would be clear of the life saving limbs and the magnificent bird would be head first in the water.

              Casting his push pole into the canoe, Teek reached for the tree that had tangled the trap and started to climb. He moved with great speed and agility, reaching about half the distance before the bird again started thrashing about violently. There was a loud snap and Teek watched in horror as the last life saving branch split and then broke away allowing the trap to fully trigger. The tree flung back dangerously and the bird cried pitifully as it was pulled from its feet and into the air. Its head dropped instantly into the water cutting off its cries as it flared out its wings in desperation, slowing its motion somewhat, as it was pulled toward the trunk of the tree now holding Teek.

             
Teek held on tightly and closed his eyes as the collision became inevitable. There was a loud thump and then suddenly he found himself falling back into the swamp. He could hear a loud cheer from the men in the boat and felt he might burst into tears. He hit the water hard but immediately kicked for the surface. The bird was thrashing around wildly, churning the water as it evidently had not hit the tree hard enough to knock it out.

Placing his dagger in his mouth, Teek quickly swam back to the tree holding the bird and took hold of its bark. The bird’s thrashing made it difficult to hold on as the tree swayed dangerously, almost sending him back into the water. He knew he had only seconds before the men reached the captured bird and nullified his efforts to save it. He scrambled up the trunk, climbing higher and higher, concentrating on holding on and keeping his eye on the rope above. It was only another few feet and the bird would be saved. He could hear the men cheer and laugh as they finally reached their prey. Luckily, they still had to keep their distance long enough for the bird to stop its thrashings and die; still had time. He could just make out their words as they skimmed across his mind, arguing whether or not they should just shoot it with an arrow and have it done. It was then that he reached his goal.

              Wrapping his legs as tight as he could around the trunk, he reach out with his knife and tried to slice the rope but the jerking movements from the bird’s legs and feet would not allow him to get in a good cut. Becoming desperate, he climbed a little higher and again reached out to the rope but was still unable to get his knife on it firmly enough to make the cut. He could tell that his time was almost past. Stretching as far as he could, he made one final effort and found he was just able to get a hand on the rope.

Clutching it, he released his leg hold on the tree and flew out into the air. He tried to wrap his legs around the rope to strengthen his hold but the twisting bird threw him about so much that he was unable to catch it with his feet. The rapid gyrations were making him sick to his stomach and he was afraid he would throw up and lose his hold. Trying not to think about his sudden nausea, he reached out with his dagger and pressed it as hard as he could against the taut fibers on the rope. Feeling it make contact, he sliced fast cutting deeply into the twisted thread. He was shocked at the ease at which the knife cut in so deeply. A briefly smile crossed his face, as his task was almost complete but was just as suddenly replaced by a look of shear horror as he remembered the bend in the tree caused by the giant animal’s weight.

              The rope snapped dropping the bird into the water with a great splash. The tree heaved back, suddenly free of its weight, and bashed Teek against the trunk almost knocking him lose from his grip on the rope. To fall now would mean instant death in the whirl of claws and wings that thrashed about in the water below as the giant bird fought to right itself and get away.

             
Desperately throwing his legs out and around the trunk, he secured himself to the tree just as the bird stretched out its wings and worked them frantically in a struggle to take to the air. The men in the canoe, twisted around by the huge splash, were just then coming back in view of their prey. Teek felt his heart stop as he realized that one of the men in the boat, now directly below him, had pulled out a crossbow and was, at that moment, fitting a bolt just as the bird slowly broke free from the water. A primeval cry escaped his throat in unison with the bird as both found themselves floating freely in the air. The bird reached up as Teek crashed down having released himself from the tree in a headlong dash toward the men below.

In a split second, his feet hit the water and his hands grabbed the side of the boat just as the man pulled the trigger. The bolt flew straight, but just away from its original mark landing
harmlessly in the water as the weight and velocity of the small Waseeni boy brought them all crashing into the murky, old swamp.

             
Teek kicked wildly, reaching to break the surface. His head popped free of the water just in time to catch sight of the giant, white bird as it barely cleared the treetops. Teek shrieked out a shout of joy and was almost instantly answered as a loud EEEEERRRRROOOOOCCCCC shattered the air as if in defiant answer. He did it.

             
His moment of joy passed quickly, though, as a large hand suddenly tightened around his throat and a gravelly voice spat in his ear. “You’ll pay for that boy.”

He tried to struggle free but the hand only tightened cutting off his air and quickly robbing him of consciousness.

              The sounds of chirping insects finally brought Teek back to awareness. He tried to survey the area but night had fallen and the only light he could see by was the dying fire a good thirty feet away. His mouth felt like a dried out mat. His wrists and ankles were tied extremely tight, his arms clasped behind him around the trunk of a tree throwing great spears of pain up and down his arms and legs. What had he gotten himself into? He felt tears reaching for his eyelids but held them back fiercely as he reminded himself that even though he had not reached the time of manhood yet, he had been chosen for this journey and that he had to act accordingly.
No crying,
he told himself over and over.

             
What would they do to him? Doubts and horrors began to crowd his mind as to what might happen to him. Had he done the right thing? After all, he was not on a mission to save birds, but to find the appeasing gift required by the ancestors.
But that bird was so magnificent
.
I couldn’t just leave it there to die at the hands of those evil men
. The thought of its brush with death remained in his mind and he soon wondered if they would not kill him now instead. He thought of his mother and his brother and sisters and felt the tears coming again. What would they do without him? They would never know what had happened to him. They would be left to always wonder.

             
He tried to find sleep again but it was fleeting, always just out of reach. The pain and worry that invaded his senses came from every direction and demanded his attention forcing the gentle release of a restless sleep far away. Hours past leaving him to the agony of his thoughts before the sun finally began to make an appearance in the eastern sky.

With the gray dawn, Teek was finally able to take stock of his surroundings finding himself in a grove of trees, the likes of which, he had never seen before. They were not as tall and majestic as those of the Teague having low branches and long, pointy quills where the leaves should have been. The ground beneath him was also different. It was harder and more solid than that found in his watery home. He was amazed at how far it stretched out. Twee had told him that most of the world they lived in was hard land, but he never dreamed it could really be like he’d said.

Twisting himself around the trunk he was tied to, Teek looked through the trees and found the lake’s edge.
Well,
he thought,
at least the lake is still close by
.
If I can just get myself free and to the water, maybe I can find my canoe and get away
.

             
“Lookin’ for somethin’?” a high-pitched voice suddenly cracked in his ear causing Teek to jerk around painfully. The man laughed at his obvious discomfort and surprise at not hearing him approach. “Hee, hee, hee. Ya didn’t hear me come up on ya from behind now didja? Hee, hee, hee.”

             
Teek stared at him trying to hide the fear and disgust he held for such a loathsome looking creature. His face was covered with at least a months worth of dirt and grime mingled in with his white streaked whiskers. His breath reeked of something old and spoiled which could actually have been the yellow and black teeth that were spaced with gaps throughout his mouth. His eyes were especially frightening stretched wide open and clearly displayed the white all around his brown irises that danced about in a flutter of madness. His head was covered with a cloth that he tied in the back, which might have been red in color at one time, which seemed to be used for the sole purpose of keeping the tiny bugs that crawled out from under it from getting away. He completed his dress with a ragged shirt, well soiled and torn, and baggy black pants that he tucked into worn out black boots that reached halfway up his lower leg.

             
When Teek didn’t answer, the foul selling man looked past him to the lake beyond. He reached up an equally filthy hand and scratched his face with fingers ended in long, chipped nails.

“Thinking of tryin’ to
escape, weren’t ya?” he said laughing while staring down at him. “Well, hee, hee, hee, unless you can swim real fast like, it ain’t likely.” He suddenly shot his head up and looked around darting his eyes back and forth to make sure no one was watching. Then, he leaned down close putting his lips right next to Teek’s ear. The smell was enough to make the Waseeni boy’s head swim with nausea. “Ya see,” he whispered, “we used that clever boat o’ yers for firewood last night. Must say it burned rather nicely. Hee, hee, hee, hee, hee, hee...”

             
Teek shrank back in disgust and defeat while the man stood up holding his sides as if to contain his continuing laughter. His heart sank at the thought of his canoe turned to ash. Like the dagger, it had been a prized possession given to him by his mother. At the thought of his blade, he moved his hip to the side to see if his knife was still there but was met by an empty sheath. Had it been lost in the swamps? Suddenly, he realized that the man had stopped laughing. Looking up, he stared right into his capture’s crazy eyes as they peered down on him, the madness reflected in them seeming to have increased substantially.