Jadde - The Fragile Sanctuary Read Free

started taking
apart the carcasses on bloodstained benches.  He watched them divide the produce
while tribes people kept dogs at bay lest they steal prime cuts or offal. A Brenna
officer with a highly visible curved sword in a scabbard across his back kept a
close watch on the division of the meat. His guards watched for misdemeanours
as they guarded their cart which already contained heaps of the best butchered
game. Idly Malkrin noted the blood seeping from the cart and trickling into the
weed filled gutter.
    He should have been hungry for the meal Cabryce
would be cooking him, but his stomach boiled like storm clouds beyond Great Mountain.
How was he going to tell her the moment had finally arrived?
    The butcher Beavertail handed him his share
of the hunt, prime segments of deer and turkey wrapped in a stained canvass
cloth. He acknowledged people with a slight nod as they slapped his back,
thanking him for the produce that would keep the townspeople fed. His hunt was
presented with their share and they wound their way back to their wives and
children. Little Alder Gullwing ran from his mother’s side and ran alongside Malkrin
hoping for some acknowledgement.
    ‘Take me tomorrow Sire?’
    ‘Go home Alder,’ Malkrin snapped. ‘You have
four summers before you can be of use to the hunt.’ He thought the young boy would
slink away with the rejection. But Alder just smiled and followed Malkrin.
    ‘Sire – please take me along next season.’
    ‘No, just go,’ Malkrin growled. He was more
intent on predicting Cabryce’s reaction and didn’t want to be bothered. The boy
looked crestfallen and slunk off. Malkrin felt mean, scolding a small boy of seven
summers – after all he had been that boy once.
    He stopped and looked for Alder in the bustling
crowd. He spotted him turn as he weaved between a squad of Brenna meat-guards.
The boy beamed, revealing his child bright teeth as he waved to his hero.
    Malkrin forced a smile and waved back as he
walked into the alley containing his cottage.
    Back in the familiar smells of his home he
sunk into his favourite chair. Its ancient frame creaked under his weight.
    ‘Good hunt my love?’ Cabryce swung quickly
down the creaking stair ladder; her usual bright dress had been replaced by
practical leggings for walking the muddy alleys. She had the same beaming smile
as Alder. For an instant Malkrin resented it – knowing what he was about to
tell her.
    ‘Yes Jadde was with us.’
    ‘Good.’
    Malkrin hesitated. She read his body
language as he gripped the wooden chair-arms and lent forward. Her lips firmed,
and she stared into his eyes.
    ‘However . . . Jadde was not with me.’
    ‘Has the worst finally . . .’
    A disrespecting thump vibrated the door
latch. Not a friend, Malkrin thought, and glanced to Palerin on the shelf – one
short step away.
    He flung the door open and Beartooth’s
leering face glanced beyond him. Malkrin knew Cabryce stood behind him anxious
for him to give her details of the hunt.
    Beartooth lifted his gore-smeared hands for
Cabryce to see. ‘Fisheye’s blood,’ he snarled. ‘He’s at home, laid on his bed
in agony. His wife and child are weeping – because of you Owlear .’
    ‘I will look after his family,’ Malkrin snapped
back.
    ‘Not enough.’ He stabbed a finger at
Malkrin, ‘People’s favourite no more . . . just a lowly hunter like the rest.’
    Malkrin batted the accusing finger away,
his highsense had felt Beartooth tense ready to prod him.
    Beartooth’s face formed a deeper leer. ‘After
the elders have finished you, I’ll take –’
    ‘Shut up.’ Malkrin did not want Cabryce
learning of events before he had a chance to tell her.
     ‘I look forward to Cabryce sharing my –’
    ‘If I go to exile then I swear I will
return to tear you apart.’
    ‘Threats Owlear, I’ll have –’
    Malkrin had had enough after all that had
happened that day. He raised his fist. A hand grabbed it.
    ‘Enough – both of