Read Online Jadde - The Fragile Sanctuary by Clive Ousley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Clive Ousley
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only returned his thoughts to his Cabryce – so warm and inviting. For
the first time since childhood he felt the pain of a terrible separation and
tears overwhelmed him.
Finally sleep overtook his grief as the
fire died back to dull red warmth.
Later, something awoke his hunters’ highsense.
He didn’t know how long he’d slept as cloud had obscured the moon beyond the
cave entrance. He sat up and wrapped the sleeping fur around his arm – it was
the only protection he had.
A scraping sound came from the front of the
cave. Then a silhouette blocked the grey light filling the cave-mouth. Long
legs and waving tail flowed silently along the entrance. A mouth opened to emit
a hiss of recognition.
Pointed ears, whiskers, slit eyes with
large pupils, two rows of sharp teeth – a wildcat .
Its green eyes seemed lit from within and
its white fangs flashed even in the gloom. Malkrin glanced at the glowing fire
embers, judging whether he could reach them before the cat sprung.
He dived and almost reached a glowing stick
as the cat hissed again and leapt. He thrust the fur into its face and grabbed
the end of a stick with his other hand. A claw raked his shoulder. He rammed the
fur into the jaws of the creature. Sharp teeth bit through the fur and another
paw raked his back shredding his tunic and flesh. He fell to the floor with the
cat on top of him raking his legs and biting his shoulder as it searched for
his throat. He brought up the glowing log in a swift thrust to the cat’s face.
The creature hissed and drew back leaving the stench of burnt fur in the air.
Malkrin rose and pressed his attack home, stabbing at the feline monster with
the red-hot stick.
The wildcat slinked warily along the cave
entrance. Both combatants now respecting each other.
The cat sprang again and Malkrin thrust his
arm forward ramming the smoking stick into the creature’s mouth. The weight of
the animal bowled him over backward. He held the sleeping fur over his chest
and received another claw to an arm. He squirmed under the swarming shape and
grasped another ember. This one was partially burnt with a white hot tip. It
scorched his hand and he smelt burning flesh as he rammed it into amber fur.
With a screech the creature disappeared out of the cave, the stick embedded in one
pointed ear. There was the sound of dislodged shale and then silence.
Malkrin was shaking with spent effort, but
forced himself to calm. Slowly he lifted sticks to rebuild the fire, should the
creature return. With increasing sluggishness he examined his injuries. The
burns were bad and had already started to blister. He could feel warm blood
flowing down his shoulder and back as he removed the rags of his tunic and
ripped the shreds into lengths with his good hand and teeth. Blood seeped
through the cloth as he attempted to staunch it with fumbling fingers.
Eventually he managed to wrap bloodstained strips round his shoulders and chest
and the flow eased. The cave spun around him when he tried to stand on spent
legs. He crawled slowly to the cave mouth.
The sunrise outside matched the colour of
his blood splattered over the cave floor. He squinted, trying to see movement
in the surrounding rocks. All was still, the cat had vanished.
He crawled back inside and watched the fire
die back. Feebly he fed a few thick sticks and twigs into the hot ashes. They
smoked and glowed, flames returned. He placed the ends of straight sticks near
to the flames to harden – useful weapons in case another predator smelt his
blood and came to finish him. He had no cloth left to wrap the deep wounds in
his arm or the blisters on his hand so he trickled water from his container and
drank the remaining drops.
The morning grew bright outside and the
wind diminished. His legs felt numb and useless and he shivered in his rags. Every
time he moved he felt as if his back was being eaten by the cat. He gritted his
teeth and settled back into his bed of ferns digging his fingers into
the first time since childhood he felt the pain of a terrible separation and
tears overwhelmed him.
Finally sleep overtook his grief as the
fire died back to dull red warmth.
Later, something awoke his hunters’ highsense.
He didn’t know how long he’d slept as cloud had obscured the moon beyond the
cave entrance. He sat up and wrapped the sleeping fur around his arm – it was
the only protection he had.
A scraping sound came from the front of the
cave. Then a silhouette blocked the grey light filling the cave-mouth. Long
legs and waving tail flowed silently along the entrance. A mouth opened to emit
a hiss of recognition.
Pointed ears, whiskers, slit eyes with
large pupils, two rows of sharp teeth – a wildcat .
Its green eyes seemed lit from within and
its white fangs flashed even in the gloom. Malkrin glanced at the glowing fire
embers, judging whether he could reach them before the cat sprung.
He dived and almost reached a glowing stick
as the cat hissed again and leapt. He thrust the fur into its face and grabbed
the end of a stick with his other hand. A claw raked his shoulder. He rammed the
fur into the jaws of the creature. Sharp teeth bit through the fur and another
paw raked his back shredding his tunic and flesh. He fell to the floor with the
cat on top of him raking his legs and biting his shoulder as it searched for
his throat. He brought up the glowing log in a swift thrust to the cat’s face.
The creature hissed and drew back leaving the stench of burnt fur in the air.
Malkrin rose and pressed his attack home, stabbing at the feline monster with
the red-hot stick.
The wildcat slinked warily along the cave
entrance. Both combatants now respecting each other.
The cat sprang again and Malkrin thrust his
arm forward ramming the smoking stick into the creature’s mouth. The weight of
the animal bowled him over backward. He held the sleeping fur over his chest
and received another claw to an arm. He squirmed under the swarming shape and
grasped another ember. This one was partially burnt with a white hot tip. It
scorched his hand and he smelt burning flesh as he rammed it into amber fur.
With a screech the creature disappeared out of the cave, the stick embedded in one
pointed ear. There was the sound of dislodged shale and then silence.
Malkrin was shaking with spent effort, but
forced himself to calm. Slowly he lifted sticks to rebuild the fire, should the
creature return. With increasing sluggishness he examined his injuries. The
burns were bad and had already started to blister. He could feel warm blood
flowing down his shoulder and back as he removed the rags of his tunic and
ripped the shreds into lengths with his good hand and teeth. Blood seeped
through the cloth as he attempted to staunch it with fumbling fingers.
Eventually he managed to wrap bloodstained strips round his shoulders and chest
and the flow eased. The cave spun around him when he tried to stand on spent
legs. He crawled slowly to the cave mouth.
The sunrise outside matched the colour of
his blood splattered over the cave floor. He squinted, trying to see movement
in the surrounding rocks. All was still, the cat had vanished.
He crawled back inside and watched the fire
die back. Feebly he fed a few thick sticks and twigs into the hot ashes. They
smoked and glowed, flames returned. He placed the ends of straight sticks near
to the flames to harden – useful weapons in case another predator smelt his
blood and came to finish him. He had no cloth left to wrap the deep wounds in
his arm or the blisters on his hand so he trickled water from his container and
drank the remaining drops.
The morning grew bright outside and the
wind diminished. His legs felt numb and useless and he shivered in his rags. Every
time he moved he felt as if his back was being eaten by the cat. He gritted his
teeth and settled back into his bed of ferns digging his fingers into
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