Tina Daniell - The Companions

Everyone was a half second later than the leucrotta, which had already chosen its first prey. With a startlingly sudden movement, the beast leaped forward and caught the man with the net as he threw it and turned to retreat. With the net half-draped over its head, the leucrotta loomed over the man, opened its huge, powerful jaws, bit through the net, and severed the man's head with one brutal snap. The body gushed blood, spattering Kit and Nellthis, as the leucrotta shook its victim wildly and tossed the body like a rag doll against the wall of the gorge.

Nellthis's arrow stuck out of the creature's left flank, looking puny and inconsequential. Kitiara's shot had missed. Both of them had nocked second arrows by the time the leucrotta ducked behind the needlebush, partly protecting itself from attack.

Nellthis and Kit hesitated, warily watching the huge animal, whose eyes bore down on them.

Suddenly the creature opened its maw and made a loud, cluttering, high-pitched noise that blocked out all other sound and was almost painful to Kit's ears. Working its jaws rapidly, the leucrotta continued the shrill sound for several long moments without budging from its sheltered position.

"What is it doing?" Kit hissed to Nellthis, across the canyon.

"It's taunting us," Nellthis replied in a low voice. "Bragging about its victims." Crouched low, Nellthis spoke without a trace of fear.

"You understand its tongue?" asked Kit, startled.

A merry light danced in Nellthis's round eyes. "No," he admitted, chuckling. "Just guessing."

The leucrotta worked its jaws again, emitting another long blast of high-pitched, unintelligible sounds. High above, Kit could see Nellthis's archers, drawn by the sound, taking up positions on the ridges of the gorge. Although they took aim with their weapons, they knew better than to shoot unless absolutely necessary. This was to be Nellthis's kill.

"I think it said, 'I'll eat the fat man first, then the tasty female,' " Kit hissed to Nellthis, wrinkling her face into a crooked smile. Nellthis grinned back.

Suddenly, from the top of the ridge, a stream of screeches sounded, echoing the leucrotta's.

Eyes wide, Kit scanned the ridge, certain a companion beast had appeared on the scene. Nellthis, too, his concentration thrown, started up. The leucrotta itself paused in its tirade and raised its head, sniffing the air for the scent of an intruder.

Kit’s gaze finally latched on to Ladin Elferturm, grinning proudly at his imitation and motioning Kit and her uncle to move in for the kill while their quarry was distracted.

Unfortunately, the beast had already shifted its focus back to the hunters. And before Kit or her uncle could collect their wits, the leucrotta leaped from its hiding place.

Nellthis knew his timing was off when he pivoted to shoot an arrow up into the huge, shadowy form that was crashing over him. He aimed upward, rolled under and forward, surprisingly quick for such a chunky man, and felt the shock of the leucrotta's claw as it smote him heavily on the back. Momentarily confused, Nellthis struggled to his knees, lurched against the canyon wall, and nocked another arrow.

Scrambling to his feet, he saw the leucrotta lying on its side several feet away, twitching and spasming, slime and odorous blood gushing from its thrashing head. An arrow — his arrow-stuck in the creature's belly, while another, Kit's, protruded from the leucrotta's neck. Kit slumped against the opposite wall, obviously dazed but unhurt. With some effort, she gave him a nod of assurance.

Nellthis walked over to the beast. Pain seared his back, yet with it came the exhilaration of the kill. He stood for a moment, lording it over his fallen prey, then shot an arrow into its brain. Almost instantly the leucrotta expelled its final breath and lay still.

Kit came over to stare down at the monstrous creature, every bit as formidable and ugly in death as in life. The surviving retainer hastened to their side. He raised his peaked cap, a signal to those above to raise a raucous cheer.

"I suppose I should thank you for saving my life," said Nellthis almost wistfully.

"Are you disappointed, Uncle?" asked Kit. "I don't think my arrow killed him. I think it was both at once… yours and mine."

He looked at his young niece, with her dark eyes and solemn expression, and knew that she wouldn't be saying so if she didn't believe it to be true. "Yes, both," he said, with a glow of satisfaction.

Elferturm scrambled down the side of the gorge, the first of the hunting band to join them. His chest puffed out importantly. "A good kill," he offered.

Nellthis's glow disappeared. He turned on his chief tracker with a snarl. "No thanks to you. The next time you think you've come up with a useful bit of strategy, make certain I know about it first, or it will be the last hunting you ever do in Lemish."

Elferturm flushed an angry red, as Kit and her uncle turned their backs on him and walked away.

Hours later, after hauling the heavy creature out of the gorge, tying it on a travois behind the horses, and burying the luckless man who had lost his life to the leucrotta, Nellthis, Kit, and the band of hunters rode triumphantly into the castle courtyard.

All of Nellthis's servants and workers gathered 'round to congratulate their master, who ordered a celebration feast for that evening. He stood there, comically squat and bristling with pride, shrugging off concerns for the bruises on his back. To all who listened, he gave his niece equal credit for the trophy.

On the sidelines, Kit observed him with a mixture of affection and amusement. She was about to return to her room when she saw Nellthis take notice of a shadowy figure behind a curtain in one of the windows above signal down to him. Kit couldn't make out who it was, but Nellthis briskly gave orders for the preservation of the trophy and excused himself from Kit and the others. Quickly he walked toward the nearby kitchen entrance of the castle and disappeared behind the oaken door.

This wasn't the first time Kit had noticed such behavior on the part of her uncle. Nellthis seemed to be full of mysterious doings these days. Kitiara tried to figure out what he did with most of his time, where he disappeared to, sometimes for days on end. She had attempted to wheedle the information out of him, but to no avail. That was one of the things she liked about her uncle, his perpetual air of conspiracy. And if he chose to be secretive, that was his business, even if Kit thought that at some point she might try in earnest to make it hers.

'It was your arrow that done it, Kitiara Uth Matar," said Ladin Elferturm, coming up behind her and touching her arm awkwardly. The hunter searched Kit's eyes for some encouragement.

"It was both arrows," Kit said tersely, shaking his arm off. "And even if Nell this weren't my uncle, I would vow that it is disloyal of you to say that behind his back when you know the trophy is so important to him." She started to stride away.

Elferturm grabbed her strongly by the wrist, holding her back. "What's come over you, Kitiara?" he tried to whisper, knowing his voice was clumsily loud and his words all wrong for this high-spirited woman. "I thought… I thought there was, uh"-his tongue was all in knots-"something between us."

Kitiara was about to reply witheringly when someone grabbed Elferturm from behind, whirling him around. Kurth, the castle smithy, stood there glowering at the hunter. The tall, broadly muscled smithy clenched his fists nervously at his side as he spoke. Having come directly from the forge, he still wore his apron.

"I warned you to stop pestering Kitiara, Ladin," said Kurth forcefully. "She's mine and couldn't care a whit about the likes of you."

"I'm sick of your interfering," said Elferturm, thrusting his chest up against Kurth's, their gazes locked murderously.