Winds of the Forest
Chapter 1
I had lost track of the antelope, but only for a second. I had well-trained and sharp eyes, so the animal couldn’t hide from me for long, no matter how much coverage the jungle provided. With a quick scan of the premises, I easily spotted it again.
I held still on my horse, willing it to feel my posture and sense the importance of being as quiet as possible so that we would not scare our game away. I moved my leg ever so-slightly. My horse Dolly responded perfectly, shifting just enough in the direction I needed her to.
Barely breathing, I squinted my eyes and angled my spear, ready to launch it at the antelope who’d had the misfortune of crossing my path.
It’s hard to believe now, but tracking and hunting animals had once been a difficult task for me. I struggled with it a great deal when I was younger. Although I’d known where our meat came from, I hadn’t been prepared to be the one to get my hands dirty in order to get it. I still vividly remembered my first kill — a white rabbit when I was 12 years old. Knowing that I had personally taken the life of a living creature had made me cry for the rest of the night. A friend of mine had tried to reason with me, explaining that we needed to do such things to have food. Regardless, it took a long time for the message to truly sink in and for me to stop feeling like a murderer.
“If we don’t hunt, there will be a shortage of food and then our people will be the ones to die, Genesis,” my friend had said to me. “People you love would starve to death. As elite hunters of the Arnazuri tribe, it’s our job to make sure our families and loved ones, and the children of our friends, don’t starve to death. Do you want our people to starve to death?”
His pep talk had been precisely what I needed, and afterwards, each hunting trip became a little easier. I kept reminding myself of the small children and elderly people who would starve if it weren’t for the fresh game we provided. In time, hunting became so second-nature to me that I worked my way up to being one of the top hunters in Black Forest, the Arnazuri community. Within the last few years, not even the boys could outdo me. Even Dolly had become a skilled hunting partner and knew exactly how to behave while I tracked game.
I gave Dolly a gentle pat right as I launched my spear, making the kill quick and clean. The antelope fell to the ground with a thump. Although I knew Dolly would never leave me, I tied her up to a nearby tree while I went to retrieve the antelope. He was a big one, but I managed to drag him over. All the years I’d spent hunting large game had made me stronger than most 17-year-old girls I knew.
With a grunt, I hoisted and secured the antelope onto Dolly’s back, and then gave the horse a kiss on the nose. “Good job, Dolly,” I said, before climbing back on, ready to head to the community food bank to turn in my prize. Any day I brought back an antelope was a good day.
When we reached the food bank, Mr. Obante, the food keeper, was outside. He waved upon seeing me, an appreciative expression on his face. I waved back and then hopped off Dolly, tied her up, and removed the antelope from her back.
“That looks like a beauty you’ve got there, Genesis,” said Mr. Obante, eyeing the antelope.
“Yes, a big beauty,” I said.
“Oh yeah. I can definitely see that. Here, let me help you.” Mr. Obante trotted toward me and together, we carried the antelope inside the food bank. “Yeah — this is good, Genesis,” he said. He glanced over the antelope again, likely making the same kind of assessment I had made when I first spotted it during my hunt.
Although the Arnazuri get to keep only five percent of the Kingdom’s meat supply, it was usually sufficient if most of the hunters found more game of this size.
The central royal council would be pleased, considering they would get to keep the best of it as taxes before distributing the rest to the remaining tribes of Nayja — the Rowans, the Ammirians, and the Kingfishers.
Most importantly though, antelope like this helped put a dent in the massive debt our tribe owed the royal council. I couldn’t help but think of the fact that here I was helping to pay for a debt that was incurred before I was born.
It was now fifty years since our tribe was moved from clay hut dwellings to the more civilized community built for us by King William, father of the current King, yet we still had years of instalment payments to go through. It’s true, we don’t have all those luxuries I hear they have in their homes at King’s Forest, but it still cost something to build enough houses to contain over five thousand Arnazuri people.
Mr. Obante sighed and then briefly pat me on the shoulder. He was an older gentleman who reminded me of something between a grandfather and an uncle. He had followed my hunting career right from the start, and we had become pretty good friends over the years. Mr. Obante had the gentle and understanding nature that I sometimes wished my father possessed.
I’d met Mr. Obante for the first time after my third kill. That day, I came to the community food bank with a group of hunters to submit our achievements for the day.
“Did you catch all of this yourself, young lady?” he had asked. “My, my — I can already tell you’re going to be one of our most valuable hunters someday! Here, let me reward you for your contributions.”
He then gave me some plantain chips and sarra, and proceeded to tell me the legend of how our people of the Arnazuri tribe came to be. We were called the Children of the Sun because when our founding father died, it’s believed that he became the sun and brought light into the world. Our founding father loved us so much that after he became the sun, his frequent kisses darkened our skin to beautiful deep brown. Through him, we inherited the skills of fire-making and hunting.
Even though I had already known the story, I liked the way Mr. Obante told it so much that I listened intently as I ate the plantain chips and cheese curd he’d given me.
“You keep up the good work, Genesis. I know it can’t be easy on you, and it’s a lot of pressure to put on a girl your age, but you’re all we’ve got. But if it’s any consolation, you’re also the best we’ve got.”
Mr. Obante’s voice snapped me out of my reminiscing. I nodded, well aware of my position as the only active hunter in the Arnazuri tribe, and appreciating the fact that he thought I was the best. Although it was frustrating that my former hunting peers had become so unreasonable, it was all the more reason I felt the need to stay level-headed and responsible. I cared too much for my people to willingly let our community fall to ruins.
“I can see you feel as I do on this issue,” Mr. Obante commented. He’d been watching me closely, undoubtedly guessing my train of thought. “I just want to personally thank you for all that you do. If you don’t hear it enough, I’ll say it on behalf of our whole tribe — thank you.”
When I spoke, I kept my voice low to avoid being overheard although we appeared to be alone. “I just think all this talk about rebellion is so stupid. All it’ll do is cause more trouble. I don’t want to be a part of that.”
“Neither do I.”
“Why do I feel like we’re outnumbered? Everywhere I turn, it seems like there are more people in favor of the rebellion than against it.”
“Same here. It’s a sad reality we’re facing these days.”
“So how much more do we owe for this month’s instalment?” I asked after a pause. I was afraid to know the answer, but needed to nonetheless.
Mr. Obante’s brow furrowed and he scratched the back of his head. “Well, not counting the general taxes — for the council, we need at least twenty more animals. Antelope, to be exact. You know that’s all the royal council will accept.”
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic I felt at bay.
Twenty more antelopes. It’s not impossible, I tried to convince myself. Yet, the panic I felt threatening to rear its ugly head was not so easily convinced.
I felt Mr. Obante looking at me and knew he wished to offer words of comfort, but no such words existed because it was pointless to sugar-coat our dilemma. Sometimes, I felt he was the only other person in our tribe who truly understood the gravity of our situation.
“Isn’t there anyone else who could help?” I asked. “There has to be someone. Don’t you know at least one other elite hunter who can help gather more antelope? If I had just one partner, we could go out and find ten a piece — ”
Mr. Obante shook his head. “I’m sorry, kiddo, but there aren’t any others. We’ve lost them all to the Hawks.”
The Hawks. Just the mentioning of their name made my blood boil. As far as I was concerned, they were personally responsible for our predicament. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fathom how so many people, especially of the Arnazuri tribe, could be so delusional. Because of them, the weight of the whole tribe crashed down on my shoulders, and every day, that weight got heavier.
The Arnazuri just couldn’t afford the irresponsible rationality the Hawks kept spewing around. In turn, I couldn’t afford to let my frustration with them get the best of me. I had to keep my temper in check because I had learned long ago that anger and hunting didn’t mix well. Anger scared off the animals and messed up my aim. If my aim wasn’t accurate, numerous lives would rest on my hands alone.
I sighed. “I’ll do the best I can, Mr. Obante.”
“I know you will,” he said. “Wind beneath your wings.”
“And beneath yours,” I said with little hope.
Resigned, I left the food bank. There was nothing more to say anyway. I only had 24 hours to find enough wild game to pay off our whole tribe’s taxes. I had a very long day awaiting me.
