Mankar and the Hunt

## Chapter 1

Mankar stood toe-to-toe with the larger youth with fists clenched and his face damaged from the recent confrontation. “You dare call me shortling? You are unschooled and ignorant, Tekol. I, Mankar, will be your teacher today!” The eight-year old was defiant despite being a head shorter than his foe and weighing a good twenty pounds less.

Tekol, smug from his initial success in their fight, suddenly make a sour expression. While it was true that amongst the eleven remaining Firstborn, he was indeed the largest (and Mankar the smallest) the other child was well-known for being quick-witted and popular. He had thought suppressing Mankar would be easy but he had resisted. He couldn’t back down now, however. He sneered, “The only big part about you is your mouth, baby! Can your fists even reach me? Ha ha ha!”

Surrounding the two were some of the other children, both Firstborn and Nextborn, watching the confrontation. They didn’t get involved, nor would any adults if any had been around. The elders were loath to interfere in the fights of children as they were the proving grounds forging the adults they would become. Still, the mood was obviously in favor of the smaller child. “You can do it, Mankar!” “Give him a good fight!”

Sensing their mood, Tekol swung quickly, hoping to catch Mankar by surprise. He didn’t expect the other child to duck and drive a hard fist into his unprepared gut. Doubling over suddenly he found Mankar’s other fist colliding with his face. After that, things became hazy as he suffered blow after blow and, eventually, kicks after he fell to the ground. Finally, unable to bear the punishment he shrieked, “Mercy! P-Please… enough!”

Mankar stood over him, fists bloody. “Hear me well! If something is too tall for me to reach, I will stand on a rock! If the rock is too small, I will stand on a hill! If the hill is too short, I will stand on a mountain!”

A wit from the crowd called out, more in fun than a challenge, “What if the mountain is too short?”

The dirty youth was startled for a second and then laughed. “Then I will grow bigger than a mountain!”

From that day onward, he was known as Mountain Mankar… only half in jest.

As per custom, as long as the injuries weren’t life-threatening, the children were allowed a day to reflect on their trials without healing magic. The common wisdom was that pain was the most effective teacher. Although Mankar agreed with this -- in theory -- it made eating dinner a trial as the cut on his lip was still painful. He tried to tough it out but couldn’t help but wince as he chewed on a piece of hard bread.

Ariana, his mother, sighed and refilled his soup bowl. “Dip the bread to soften it, Mankar.” While not the youth she had been when she had followed the call of Asrelia into the Wastes, she was not weathered like some of the other Elders.

“Thank you, mother!”

Also sharing the meal were two younger girls who were obviously sisters. Reddish-brown hair They were Nextborn whose mother had died in childbirth and so had come to live with Mankar and his mother. They both had watched the fight though their reactions had been completely different. Mia had been breathless with excitement even though the possibility of Mankar getting beaten down wasn’t unlikely. Tia, on the other hand, had hopped nervously from foot to foot until she was sure he was fine in the end.

Tia finally spoke up, “That was really, really reckless, Mankar.”

Mia immediately countered, “What?! It was awesome… I mean, it was, awesome awesome!” Lacking a better description, she gesticulated wildly, almost knocking over her own soup. She stood on her chair and shouted, “I will grow bigger than a mountain! Ha ha ha ha!”

Ariana sighed again. “Mia, please. Save your recreations for after dinner please.”

“Oh, ah, okay. Yes mother.” The twins knew that Ariana wasn’t their birth mother but they treated her with equal respect and love.

Tia (who had been shielding her soup from the histrionics of her sister) said, “Aren’t you afraid that Tekol might try to revenge himself?”

Mankar snorted. “Him? Nah. He’s been beaten soundly for now. Before he gets the courage to try again, I’ll be even stronger.” He clenched a fist. “If he needs another lesson, Teacher Mankar will school him again!”

His mother smiled unexpectedly. “Teacher Mankar, is it? Perhaps you should visit the Lhankor Myh temple soon. [The priest] said he was interested in gaining a new follower.” While she believed wholeheartedly in the vision that had brought them here, she thought her clever child would be better suited to the pursuit of knowledge than the sword.

Plus it was so much safer!

“Oh, did he?” Mankar’s enthusiasm cooled immediately. He didn’t want to contradict his mother openly, but he felt that a more active role would be better for his personality and future. “Well, I can visit soon, when I have time.”

His mother smiled. “I believe you have half a day left for rest and contemplation after your fight. What better way than to visit the temple and seek wisdom, yes? I’ll pack you a lunch so you can spend the entire morning there tomorrow.”

“…Yes, mother.”

## Chapter 2

Although not obsessive about it, Ariana decided that since tomorrow was to be a temple visit, the children should be presentable. That meant hauling many buckets of clean water from the river for the bath. Since this was Mankar’s job, he had to battle both fatigue and his injuries at the same time and was feeling somewhat sorry for himself. Especially considering he’d rather not visit the temple in the first place!

Likewise, he was in charge of gather the firewood for the large copper tub. Despite his (private) grumbling, this task wasn’t beyond him as he was a sturdy child and much stronger than one would guess from his stature or years. The tribe, more than most, took excellent care of its youngsters as they knew the child of prophecy would come from their number. So they constantly received good food, proper clothing, and the best care. From these circumstances, and perhaps the blessings of the Goddess, Mankar had grown well.

“How’s the water, Tia?”

“Nn, it’s fine. Please hand me the soap?”

The tub (actually a cooking pot when need be), used to be big enough for all three of the children at once but now could only hold one comfortably. Ariana decreed that they would be washed in order from cleanest to dirtiest which, predictably, meant that Mankar always washed last and Tia usually first. Since he hauled the water and tended the fire, even in the odd circumstance where he was NOT the dirtiest, he certainly would be at the end!

“Here it is.” He handed her a wooden bowl filled with a soft cream and she scooped out a palmful and rubbed it into her hair. Unlike her twin, she kept it long which was one of the few ways to tell them apart when they weren’t talking.

He sat on the ground, back to the woodpile while she bathed. The stars were particularly bright tonight and he watched them as he thought about the future. He could sense which way his mother’s wind blew but his heart urged him to follow a hero’s path. “What do you think, Tia?”

“About what?” She rinsed the soap from her hair and moved to the rest of her body, scrubbing diligently with a soap-soaked fibrous plant.

“Mother wants me to be a scholar.”

“Is that a question?”

“Sort of… you know.”

“You’re smart enough, certainly.” She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “But I think it would be a mistake.”

He was startled to the point of falling over if he hadn’t already been sitting on the ground. “You, you are the one actually to say this?!” Tia was always the one to remind him to study and would reprimand him for acting before thinking.

Her head peeked above the edge of the tub, showing only to her eyes. “Yes me. Truth makes me say that I’m afraid every time you get into trouble or fight. But when I try to see you in scholar’s robes, surrounded by tablets and scrolls, my imagination fails. I just don’t think you could be happy there.”

“Ha ha! I wish mother had your vision for my future! So what can you imagine, oh seeress?”
Though he was joking, she took his question seriously. “You’ll never be one to settle down… at least not until you are much older. I see you with weapon in hand and armor on your body. You are a sword, not a shield.”

“Hnh. So what cult?”

“Storm Bull, Odelya or… Orlanth.”

Mia arrived suddenly, naked and unworried about it. "Hey, are you going to stay in there all night? How dirty are you?"

Tia was scandalized for her by proxy. "Sister, have a sense of shame!"

Mia laughed, "If you want me to get in, you'll have to get out, hmmm?"

"Hmph!" She retrieved a towel from a nearby peg and wrapped it around herself. She scurried off, obviously deciding to do her drying elsewhere.

Her sister settled into the water. "Ahhhhh... that's nice. More heat!"

Mankar dutifully added more wood to the fire. There was a layer of rocks above the wood to distribute the warmth and to support the pot; otherwise the girl would have been soup!
After relaxing for a bit, she spoke up. "You don't have to decide now, you know."

"Of course not, you have to be fifteen."

"Ach, just because you are a little clever, doesn't mean you can't have a hard head! Don't pick something now and decide that nothing else is good enough. Why not look at the all the followers, see what they are doing, then figure it out?"

"That... actually makes sense." Lost in thought, he continued his chore of chopping wood and feeding the fire. Would I be happier as a scholar? Or a farmer? It didn't seem likely to the child but the gods themselves proved even the least likely thing may occur. After all, Orlanth slew Yelm but wasn't he the one who fought hardest to bring him back?

He didn't notice Mia was calling him until she yelled his name for the third time. "Mankar! I know I said I wanted it hot but this?!"

The over-piled wood under the pot was blazing merrily and he saw that he was about to put another log on the fire. "Ah, sorry, sorry!" He grabbed a bucket of river water and dumped it in... forgetting that it was still early spring.

"Aieieie! Cold!" Trapped between two extremes, Mia complained with fake outrage until the average became bearable. "I know making you think was a mean thing to do but you are plotting my doom?"

"Well, then you have no one to blame but yourself then." His tone became conciliatory, "You didn't really get burned, did you?"

"I'm sure a few heals will replace my boiled feet."

With an evil glint in his eye, he hefted another bucket. "Or maybe just more water?"

"No no no! As it turns out, I'm just fine!" She ducked down in the water for protection in case he made good on his threat looking very much like her sister did earlier, just for different reasons.

"Good!" He laughed and tapped the side of pot with his knuckle, making a dull sound. "Okay, you've had as long as Tia and I want to get to bed eventually."

She got out and noticed he was looking at the stars again. "What, not going to take another peek?"

"Hmph. What's to look at? You're just a kid!"

Strangely, she didn't take umbrage but said, "You say that now, but before long you'll be dying for a look, you know?" She went back to her room, laughing all the way.

Shaking his head, he took his own bath, taking care not to irritate the various cuts and bruises he had gotten today. "Hunter? Trader?" He sighed and sunk into the water, staying there until the fire dimmed and the water became too cold for comfort.

## Chapter 3

The next day, as promised, Mankar went to the Lhankor Mhy temple... clean and in clean clothes. While in a small village, standards were a bit more lax than they would be in a larger town, since the boy was going for an 'official' visit, his mother thought it best that he make a good impression.

It occurred to him on the way, however, that she had never said he had to spend all day at the one temple. With this new idea in mind, a spring entered his step and he started smiling for the first time this morning.

The temple steps were a bit dusty, something that Mankar typically wouldn't have noticed except that he happened to actually be cleaner than the stoop. The priest likewise was a bit rumpled and a bit stooped from long years bent over a desk. His eyesight and hearing were top-notch, however, as he spotted the boy the moment he came near. "Ah, Mankar, welcome! Today, we'll be sorting documents, enter, enter!"

"Sorting?"

The man put a finger aside his nose. "Indeed! There have been many requests for wisdom of late and shelving has fallen behind. Plus I just received some new scrolls from the Issaries trader. He cheated me scandalously on the price, I think, but one was more precious than he realized so perhaps I broke even then."

He led Mankar to the back room, a place the boy had never entered before, and he was amazed by the sheer number of documents stored there. And, unlike the rest of the temple, everything was meticulously shelved and labeled. The only things out of place was several items on a largish table in the middle of the room. "Impressive, yes? Still, when compared to some of the libraries I've visited..." He sighed in remembrance.

"Larger than this? How much larger?"

The priest snorted. "The largest had dozens upon dozens of rooms, all larger than this one! Still, no need to dwell on the past. We are making our own history here, are we not? So... sorting!"

"Why again are we doing this, Priest XXXXXX? Surely, there are not so many that you can't just remember their locations?" Privately, he was wondering if his new 'teachings' for today were going to be just new techniques on ladder climbing and scroll rolling.

The older man seemed surprised that anyone would even ask such a question. "Ah, you bring up a good point... but you are completely off course. Knowledge is an army! These scrolls are soldiers that fight ignorance! What kind of poor general would have his troops in disarray, hmm?" He waved his hand toward a particular shelf. "Over there are documents on plants and blights and the shelf next to it are for Storm Bull legends and rituals. Can you imagine the wasted time if you were trying to find out one and ended up with the other? Or if there were ten manuals on curing poisons, but each only useful under specific circumstances? Choosing the wrong one could lead to an untimely death!”

“Sooo… having all the scrolls on war together is like gathering your generals before a battle to discuss strategy?”

The priest blinked and then laughed suddenly, “Ha ha! Exactly my young friend!” He took a moment to scribble that observation in a note to preserve it. “Well said, well said.”

So Mankar spent several fruitful hours assisting the priest, listening carefully to the teachings mixed in with the labors of the morning. He ate his packed lunch while sitting on the walls near one of the village’s field and thought about what he had learned. “So knowing how to know something is so important. It almost seems like a trick somehow.” He brushed the crumbs off of his no-longer perfectly clean clothes and hopped down. “I should probably see what the other priests do and keep my promise to mother that way.”

So, in this way, he sought more knowledge in the following week to the delight of his parent.
He plowed and sowed the fields with the priest of Barntar and learned how rewards can be earned through long effort.

He listened to the grievances of the Babeester Gor initiates and learned how passion can give one strength beyond strength.

He looked unsuccessfully for the Trickster priest for an entire day and thought he learned something from the process but couldn’t decide exactly what even after reflection. (Likewise the Orlanthi priest was unavailable but for a common and well-known reason: he was off adventuring for the good of the village.)

He danced with the Storm Bull initiates and listened to their songs of hatred and glory and learned of their purity of purpose and the reach of their holy madness.

After so many days, though he had gained much wisdom, Mankar was beginning to tire and was relaxing with his friends before starting again. Besides, his mother had pointed out that his supply of ‘good’ clothes was now all dirty and he’d have to wait until at least one was ready again.

One of the Nextborn boys suddenly spoke up as he was filling them in on his week. “Hey, hey! Did you hear about the Odelya priest?”

Mankar raised his eyebrows, “What? No, has something happened?”

“I overheard him and his initiates talking. Tomorrow they are going to hunt a dangerous beast! They were discussing inviting the Storm Bull initiates as well but since there was no trace of chaos, they decided against it.”

An actual hunt! And not just for meat… a real one! Mankar almost danced with anticipation, so excited was he. He doubted they would let a child along but he thought it was better to be caught sneaking behind than to be denied at the beginning and have to disobey an injunction.
Tomorrow he would join the hunt!

## Chapter 4

Though not overly fond of rising early (except for very special occasions!) Mankar wasn’t opposed to it either. He had told his family the night before that he would be gone all day. As that had been his habit for the last week, no one was surprised by this.

The false dawn gave a trace of light so he didn’t need to carry a light. Even the sharpest eyes would have had difficulty in the dead of night and a torch would have made stealth quite impossible! He could see the hunters ahead, their breath wreathed with vapor in the chill air. They carried long spears and bows and were well-covered with bronze armor. The Odelya Runelord actually had a spear and left bracer made of iron as well.

The boy knew that they more commonly wore leather so this matter of the hunt must carry some danger! He waited patiently in the deep shadows, ready to follow when they set out. Mankar’s slight form aided him, as did his dexterous body. He was able to slip through the gaps in the undergrowth and his steps carried little weight.

Good-natured grumbling about the weather stopped when the hunters set out. Focused on their mission, they wasted neither time nor breath. The scraping and jangling of their armor was a counterpoint to the crunching of the frozen undergrowth beneath their boots as they marched. To Mankar, they seemed more like they were going to war than to a hunt.

After an hour, they stopped to check for signs that Mankar couldn’t spot from his vantage several yards back the group. Apparently satisfied, they continued in this manner, pausing every so often to verify their path through the lightly wooded area. The sun was over the horizon but, here in the wooded areas, Yelm’s rays still hadn’t penetrated.

The Runelord held up a hand, “Here is good. Its path will be narrow and those on the side should be safe from slashes.” He pointed to various locations and his men took their positions efficiently. “Also, isn't it time for our little shadow to come out into the light?”

It took Mankar a scant second to realize that he was the target of the comment. He came out, red-faced. “Yes Runelord.”

“Felt like joining our hunt, eh? Well, I don't hate that kind of boy but I can't have you slacking in the brush!” He clapped Mankar's shoulder, nearly driving him to his knees.
The older man had several days worth of stubble interrupted by several old scars. His hair was beginning to grey but his hand was steady and his eyes clear. “So, boy, today we are hunting boar! Of all the creatures not tainted by chaos, it's one of the hardest. They can grow to twenty times a man's weight, have a hide that can turn arrows, run faster than a horse when attacking and have absolutely no fear of death! Indeed, they will continue to charge even after death to take one last person to hell with them.”

His sub-leader spat onto the frozen ground. “More to the point, this one has been ravaging crops and threatening our farmers. They are just locusts on four feet!”

“Ha ha! So it is, my friend, so it is!” He turned back to Mankar. “Today, you stand with me, boy. Can you do that?”

Eyes sparkling, he said immediately, “Yes sir! What do I do?”

“We'll be doing the most dangerous task, of course. A boar, no matter how experienced, is a stubborn beast. All we'll do is stand where it's charging and drive a spear into its heart.”
“That's it? No techniques? No strategy?”

The older man laughed! “The beast is putting his life on the line and we'll do the same. He won't waver from the path and neither will we. That's the test, boy! One iota of fear, one hint of retreat and you are lost!” He picked a spot and said, “Here we'll stand, you in front of me. We'll show that brute the meaning of the word defeat!”

The two held the same spear, Mankar in front, four hands on the weapon. The runelord whispered his battle magics into the spear until it looks sharp enough to slice between the two faces of a piece of parchment! Just then, they heard the crashing of an immense body coming their way.
Egged on by hunters who had peppered it with javelins, the boar angrily pushed into the battleground chosen by the men. It was even larger than Mankar had imagined, easily taller than a tall man with tusks that could destroy stout trees much less mortal flesh.

Three men took up stances behind them, boarspears arrayed to either side of the duo, points directed at the boar. The middle, however, belonged to just the lord and child, holding the same spear. “Beast! You have had your way for too long and the judgment of Odelya is upon you! Today you shall breathe your last and your lifeblood shall spill on the ground! Come, come and become meat for my tribe and live on in that way!”

Whether it understood or not, the boar turned toward them with reddened eyes and foam dripping from its snout. It bellowed once and started its charge!

“Steady, boy. Never look away. If death is to find you, let it remember your undaunted eyes and say, 'Now, there is a man!'”

The ground shook as the boar hurtled toward them and it finally impaled itself on the long spears! In less than a breath, all had snapped and it finally spitted itself on the weapon of the runelord! Ignoring pain and death, it drove onward, getting closer while the spear penetrated further and further into its body.

Through it all, Mankar stood steady, hands never leaving the shaft of the spear, staring at the boar's eyes until the final moment when it finally succumbed and dropped to the ground. It gave one, last, mighty cry and rolled to its side, dead at last! The boy saw that his hands weren't more than a foot away from the body of the beast and the blood from its snout actually dripped onto his shirtsleeve.

He found that he was shaking... not from fear... or at least not from fear alone. It was excitement! The thrill of death passing so close and being overcome was heady and he knew that, someday, he would want to experience it again.

He reluctantly released the weapon and slowly turned toward the older man. He bowed his head respectfully, “Thank you, runelord.”

The hunters all laughed, XXXX hardest of all. “Don't thank me, lad, you stood your ground when many grown men would have run in fear! Let's give thanks to Odelya and go home!” The rituals of Odelya involved showing respect to the hunted and careful butchering of the carcass. They did so efficiently with Mankar's inexpert but enthusiastic help. Laden with meat and various valuable parts of the boar, the party started walking home... slower due to the weight but in high spirits!

(It should be noted, however, that Mankar's good mood changed rapidly when he was thoroughly scolded for his dirty and blood-stained clothing that afternoon.)