The Windfall Chronicles Book 2 - Savanne's Quest

Chapter 1
Child of the Great Forest
Draped like a resting lioness on the topmost branch of a mighty tree, Savanne looked out across the forests of Terran. It was one of her favourite places. From here she could see almost to the edges of the forest itself. She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. It was gaining in strength as each day passed, promising the end of winter and with it the deadly ice storms. Far in the distance smoke columns twisted up from the fires of an Aumerchand camp.
On another day and from another tree she had once watched the Jackras kill Moonya. Moonya was the only person Savanne could remember from her before life, before she became a child of the Great Forest. Moonya who had wrapped her in love and kindness, who had taught her the secrets of the forest plants, who had watched her grow with eyes filled with tenderness.
Now that memory was a distant dream, but its legacy remained. She carried within her a deep and burning hatred for the Jackras, the death dealers, vile beasts who killed for no reason. She had dedicated all her energy to learning how to fight them, and kill them, wherever they appeared. She hunted them, and stole their weapons and gold from them.
She no longer stole their clothes. She had taken a jerkin once, but the stench of its owner had permeated every fibre of its construction, and no amount of washing or soaking in sweet smelling herbs could destroy the odour. In the end she had burnt it and never tried to take any of their garments again.
Over the last eight years despite her small size she had become a deadly destroyer of the Jackras. They rarely travelled in groups larger than four and now even four of them were no match for Savanne. It was her avowed oath to hunt and kill them wherever she found them. She would never forget. They would pay dearly for killing her Moonya.
She began to climb back down the tree. Her muscles rippled beneath her fresh young skin. Though small she was agile, fast, a perfect creature. She loved to feel the taught strength in her limbs as she dropped through the tree branches, her feet pressed against the rough tree bark. Within seconds she was within a few feet of the ground.
It was time to find her food. As she neared the base of the great tree, she stopped at a hole in its trunk, stuck one hand deep into the cavity and pulled out a bundle. From it she took a small nacre handled knife and a bag cleverly fashioned from wood and twine. Attaching both to the rope belt around her waist she replaced the bundle in the hole and continued on down to the bottom of the tree.
As her bare feet met the soft grass her nose caught a new scent. Jackras! She froze, her iridescent blue eyes sharp with concentration. For a moment she thought about going after them. They might have weapons worth stealing, or bright sparklers for her hair, or gold that shone like the setting sun. But her nose told her they were moving away. She would look for Jackras tomorrow she decided - now she must get her food, before darkness hid the berries and roots she wanted.
She began to make her way towards the crashing water, where the grass smelled of lemons if you crushed it between two stones. She had tasted lemons, left out for her sometimes by the Aumerchands.
She never ventured beyond the Great Forest. This was her home, familiar, known. She had mapped every inch of it. There was no need to go anywhere else. She knew where to find the sweetest fruit and the crunchiest roots. She had discovered how to fashion many things from wood and grass using the knives stolen from the Jackras. She had learned how to weave strands of grass into cloth and covering. She knew the Great forest and it knew her, they were as one.
From the time of Moonya’s death Savanne had survived in the forest on her own. She trusted no-one except the voices. The only other beings she had come across apart from the Jackras were the Aumerchands. She did not fear them, but she never spoke to them or came near them. They sometimes left baskets of food for her and occasionally clothes.
One time there had been two strange men, such as she had never seen before. It was on the day that she had found the body of King Harquin, his throat slit like a ripe melon. Savanne had hidden when she heard the men talking, but the strange yellow beast had sensed her and so the tall man had discovered her hiding place. He had spoken so kindly to her, and her mind had understood the goodness in his heart. He wanted to find the Aumerchand tribe of the Sundancers, and Savanne knew exactly where they had gone – there was no place in this forest that was unknown to her, even the hidden ways of the Aumerchands. And so she had shown him.
As she neared the crashing water she stopped and listened. She thought she heard the voices calling. She had first heard them when she had run in terror from the blood soaked space where Moonya’s body had been.
On that day she was barely six years old, although she knew little about the concept of years. She and Moonya had been gathering herbs as they had done many times before. Moonya knew how to make many potions from the forests bounty, potions that healed and strengthened and calmed troubled souls. Savanne had seen the Aumerchands of the MoonWatcher tribe and the RiverLords tribe come often to her little cottage on the edge of the forest for her help. But they never trusted her even though she often saved their lives. They looked at Savanne too with distaste, as if there were a bad smell around her. Savanne sensed from an early age that she was different, and that Moonya was the only one who truly loved her.
On that morning they had gone a little deeper into the forest than they normally did. Moonya was after a particularly rare herb. Savanne had been helping at first but then she had grown bored with looking for roots and had climbed high up in a nearby tree to see what she could see. She loved to climb trees. Way below her Moonya looked so small, bent over, pulling reluctant roots from the earth as she sang softly to herself. She didn’t hear the Jackras approaching. Savanne saw them too late to warn her.
They fell on Moonya like wild beasts. There was no chance of escape. As she realised the horror of her situation her eyes frantically scanned the surroundings for Savanne. “Moonya! Moonya!” Savanne’s inner voice was screaming but no sound came from her lips. At last Moonya looked up and saw her. As the breath left her body for the last time her eyes told of her relief and she smiled. Savanne would never forget that smile.
She had stayed hidden in the tree, her eyes tight shut, her heart hammering like a caged bird’s wings, until she could be sure the Jackras had gone. Her small limbs had become stiff from crouching there for so long. She had slowly climbed down the tree.
As she came near to where Moonya had died not even bone or cloth remained to mark where she had been, only the blood soaked earth cried in silence for justice. Savanne turned away, a great emptiness carving out a hollow in her heart, fear at her throat like the bite of a dog.
Unable to look any more, not knowing what to do, she began to run. She ran and ran. She had no idea where she was or for how long she had been running, but the sound of the crashing water drew her towards it like a comforting song. She ran in to its crystal waters to wash the memory of what she had seen from her mind. As she stepped into the sheet of water she found herself in a cavity that stretched some feet into the cliff.
She stood there in the semi darkness and shivered, her wet skin hating the cold. Her heart was beating like thunder and her mind was twisting this way and that to not think about Moonya.
As she stood shivering in that gloomy cave she heard the voices for the first time. A red mist rose from the cave floor and from it the voices spoke. They were talking to her, consoling her.
“Do not be afraid, little one. You are safe here. Rest a while. If you are ever in danger come to this place. None can harm you here. The days ahead will be hard, and you have many things to learn, but all will be well in the end. Your brave heart knows how to live.”
She had only understood part of what they said, but she had sensed the comfort of their words and had known then that she was not alone. Only then had she had been able to lay herself down to sleep.
Now as she neared the crashing falls again her ears once more caught the soft echo of the voices of the Red Mists. She stopped to listen more carefully. “Savanne!” they were calling. “You are needed, wild child of the forest.”
She ran into the shallow stream and stepped through the curtains of water.