Read Online Hand of Fire (The Master of the Tane) by Thomas Rath - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Thomas Rath
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confused than ever. “I don’t understand. How is an arrow not made?”
Dax pulled the arrow from the quiver resting by his leg and handed it to Thane. “See for yourself.”
Thane held it with awe not quite sure of what to think. It was all wood, even the tip, and instead of feathers at the end there seemed to be leaves. It was lighter than it appeared and it felt warm in his hand, almost as if it pulsated with life. He could almost sense the living force flowing through it.
“It was my father’s,” Dax continued. “And my father’s father and his father’s back to when we lived in the great forests on the other side of the mountains. They say that the great one of old could talk with the forests and the animals and that the trees would give him arrows like this one from their inner hearts. Supposedly, these arrows could shoot through rock and metals of the strongest make and their tips would never dull.” Dax had stopped working his blade and now stared at the horizon as the sun set behind the mountain peaks. Thane sat spellbound by the thought of it all while trying to catch whatever it was that was scratching at his mind just beyond understanding.
“Well,” Dax finally said breaking the silence. “That’s what they say anyway, if you want to believe it. To me it’s just a fine arrow that I don’t have to sharpen and that’s good enough.”
Thane handed the strange arrow back and the weird sensation he had been feeling all along suddenly left him. “Thank you, DaxSagn,” he managed as he got back to his feet still lost in thought. “I had better get home now. The Kinpa will be visiting soon.”
“That’s right boy. And get some sleep. It looks like you could use it.”
Thane nodded in reply and then turned for home.
That night, as he slept, he dreamed of talking trees with arrows for leaves.
CHAPTER THREE
Rani ducked under the low hanging vine and bound through the jungle of trees while cursing her decision to leave the safety of the river. She had entered the Underwoods forest hoping to end her journey quickly and return home to her children, but her mistake in judging the sun’s quick descent was proving to be a fatal one. If she did not reach her canoe by nightfall, when the creatures of the Underwoods began their nightly struggle over life and death, it was almost certain her three children would be orphaned and someone would then be making an Appeasing Journey for her. The thought of them pushed her on even faster.
She was Waseeni, and like the rest of her race, she was small of build but agile and quick in her movements; she had to be to survive the dangers of the Teague swamplands where the Waseeni made their home. Her eyes matched the dark brown of her tanned skin and her hair was bleached almost white from the sun. She wore a half-shirt and a simple loincloth, which was kept in place by a belt that also held her only weapon, a dagger. The deadly heat and dense humidity of the Teague made clothing a burden and only that which was necessary to keep one modest was ever worn.
The way was quickly becoming darker making it difficult to see as the limbs of the trees seemed to come to life reaching down to grab her and slow her escape. A distant howl broke her fluid gait tripping her up on a fallen log and sending her sliding headlong through the soft, decomposing plant debris that littered the ground. Righting herself quickly, she ignored the musty smell and suppressed an anxious shiver as she darted ahead in a desperate search for the sanctuary promised by the Belfar River.
It was almost completely dark when she finally heard the beckoning sounds of the water calling to her fear-dulled mind.
Dax pulled the arrow from the quiver resting by his leg and handed it to Thane. “See for yourself.”
Thane held it with awe not quite sure of what to think. It was all wood, even the tip, and instead of feathers at the end there seemed to be leaves. It was lighter than it appeared and it felt warm in his hand, almost as if it pulsated with life. He could almost sense the living force flowing through it.
“It was my father’s,” Dax continued. “And my father’s father and his father’s back to when we lived in the great forests on the other side of the mountains. They say that the great one of old could talk with the forests and the animals and that the trees would give him arrows like this one from their inner hearts. Supposedly, these arrows could shoot through rock and metals of the strongest make and their tips would never dull.” Dax had stopped working his blade and now stared at the horizon as the sun set behind the mountain peaks. Thane sat spellbound by the thought of it all while trying to catch whatever it was that was scratching at his mind just beyond understanding.
“Well,” Dax finally said breaking the silence. “That’s what they say anyway, if you want to believe it. To me it’s just a fine arrow that I don’t have to sharpen and that’s good enough.”
Thane handed the strange arrow back and the weird sensation he had been feeling all along suddenly left him. “Thank you, DaxSagn,” he managed as he got back to his feet still lost in thought. “I had better get home now. The Kinpa will be visiting soon.”
“That’s right boy. And get some sleep. It looks like you could use it.”
Thane nodded in reply and then turned for home.
That night, as he slept, he dreamed of talking trees with arrows for leaves.
CHAPTER THREE
Rani ducked under the low hanging vine and bound through the jungle of trees while cursing her decision to leave the safety of the river. She had entered the Underwoods forest hoping to end her journey quickly and return home to her children, but her mistake in judging the sun’s quick descent was proving to be a fatal one. If she did not reach her canoe by nightfall, when the creatures of the Underwoods began their nightly struggle over life and death, it was almost certain her three children would be orphaned and someone would then be making an Appeasing Journey for her. The thought of them pushed her on even faster.
She was Waseeni, and like the rest of her race, she was small of build but agile and quick in her movements; she had to be to survive the dangers of the Teague swamplands where the Waseeni made their home. Her eyes matched the dark brown of her tanned skin and her hair was bleached almost white from the sun. She wore a half-shirt and a simple loincloth, which was kept in place by a belt that also held her only weapon, a dagger. The deadly heat and dense humidity of the Teague made clothing a burden and only that which was necessary to keep one modest was ever worn.
The way was quickly becoming darker making it difficult to see as the limbs of the trees seemed to come to life reaching down to grab her and slow her escape. A distant howl broke her fluid gait tripping her up on a fallen log and sending her sliding headlong through the soft, decomposing plant debris that littered the ground. Righting herself quickly, she ignored the musty smell and suppressed an anxious shiver as she darted ahead in a desperate search for the sanctuary promised by the Belfar River.
It was almost completely dark when she finally heard the beckoning sounds of the water calling to her fear-dulled mind.
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