Return of the Encala

By T.M. Nielsen

A spin-off of the Heku Series by T.M. Nielsen. This book coincides with books 7, 8, and 9 of the Heku Series and may contain spoilers.

They live among us, blending with the human society, while behind closed doors and heavily guarded compounds, they continue age old practices of the immortal. The heku are indigenous to this planet and are far older than the earliest signs of man. They are militaristic, violent, and highly secretive. They are bound by strict rules that separate them from, and protect, the mortals.

After the Encala were systematically wiped out by Equites Forces following the death of a Council member, they strive to rebuild so they can again become a superpower in the heku world. While gathering in southern Canada, they come across a woman that was long ago banished by an enemy for feeding without consent. What they find astonishes them, and one of the games of the Ancients is found to still exist.

This unique view of the heku species focus on the every-day heku. While The Heku Series revolves around high-ranking and powerful members of the faction’s leaders, this story shows you the heku in the covens that work and struggle to make it in the world of the immortal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.M. Nielsen
• Release date: Sep 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301556212

T.M. Nielsen

T.M. Nielsen doesn't necessarily consider herself an author. She's an every-day woman who had a story to tell. Never intending to let anyone else read it, she decided to put it all down on paper. What she ended up with is a fascinating tale filling books full of drama, adventure, action, romance, and excitement.When asked why she decided to publish, she stated, "I want for others to be able to forget about problems in life and to lose themselves in my world... the world of the heku. While I write, I laugh, cry, grin, gasp, and my heart races. I want others to experience that too."T.M. Nielsen is a computer tech by trade and lives with her husband and two beautiful daughters. She's the author of Amazon.com's bestselling series The Heku Series and the Dimensions Saga, along with a Heku Series spin-off book called Return of the Encala. She's been listed numerous times on Apple's Breakout Books and on Amazon.com's top 20 in Fantasy.**** From TM ****I updated my books all the time! Check back often for new, cleaner versions. I can't afford an editor, but any time I hear of an error, I fix it immediately.

Book preview

Return of the Encala

(A different tale of the heku)

By T.M. Nielsen

Published by T.M. Nielsen at Smashwords

Find us at

http://www.hekuseries.com

Copyright © 2013 by T.M. Nielsen

Digital Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Many thanks go to Miri. Not only is she my translator, but she’s become a trusted confidant. It’s because of her that this book is finally polished and ready to put out to the fans who are missing the heku. Nothing will ever replace Chevalier and Emily, but I hope the readers enjoy a different view of the heku lifestyle. ~T.M.

Chapter 1

Namid looked out over the vast valley that housed her Chippewa tribe. They were a peaceful tribe, rather small by Chippewa standards, but that’s how she preferred it. Rumors of the white man traveled fast through the lands, but Namid’s tribe felt safe nestled in the lush valley between high, majestic mountains.

They had all they needed there. The buffalo were plentiful, and they had a swift river to catch fish and provide water for them. She could see some of the hunters returning with fresh buffalo meat, and she knew that meant there would be a feast that night.

Namid loved when the tribe gathered for a feast. There were stories of bravery and a lot of dancing, and everyone went to bed over-filled. Her job was to tan the buffalo hides for her family, and she knew she should head back into the tribe to get started.

Namid’s brother, Ahmik, was the main hunter for her family since her father had died at the hands of the Sioux. She hated to think about that day and the ritual cannibalism that had ensued after her father was killed by them.

She was very young when he was killed, but she did remember seeing the Sioux remove his head and immediately begin devouring the soft meats of his organs. She tried not to think about it often and eventually wiped the memory from her thoughts.

Namid was named after dancing stars that were seen above the tribe on the night of her birth. She had the usual angular features that were common in her tribe, and her long black hair was tied into tight braids that fell down to her waist. Her hair was greased back with meat drippings and shined in the late sun.

Namid! her mother yelled from the village.

Namid sighed and climbed down out of the tree she was sitting in. She loved to sit there and look over the village. From high in the black walnut tree where no one could see her, she could watch the happenings of the tribe in secret while she ate the black walnuts.

She walked slowly toward her family’s wigwam, where she was sure her brother was gloating over his kill. Ahmik was named after the beaver. He was convinced it was because his father knew he would grow up to be one of the tribal signalers. They were positioned around the tribe and warned others of approaching danger. The signalers were all highly respected, and it was one of the more prestigious jobs in the tribe.

Namid disagreed. She secretly thought that Ahmik was named after the beaver because his front teeth stuck out slightly, and he smelled.

She was right about the boasting, and as she rounded the wigwam toward the sound of talking, she saw Ahmik standing beside a moderately sized buffalo. She pulled her small knife from her pocket and went to work, trying to ignore how Ahmik spoke of the kill. Every time he killed a buffalo, he brought back stories of almost being trampled and fighting off wolves to save his kill. It was always the same story, and she wondered how her mother unfailingly listened with obvious excitement, when she knew that the story was fabricated and embellished with untruths.

Namid was fast at her job. She could skin a buffalo in less than 20 minutes. After the skin was removed, she moved to the waist-beam and attached the massive skin to it. Namid was good enough at skinning an animal that fleshing was easy. She opted to do that first before starting the long, arduous task of dry-scraping it.

While Namid worked, she heard Ayasha come into their camp. Ahmik had asked Ayasha’s father for her hand in marriage, and they were to be married on the following half-moon. Namid rolled her eyes at the loving way they spoke to each other.

Ayasha means ‘little one,’ and Namid always thought that was referring to the size of her brain. She wished Ayasha and Ahmik would get married sooner, so they could get their own wigwam. He would still be responsible for feeding his mother and sister after getting married, but would have his own home.

Namid looked forward to the day when she and her mother slept in the wigwam alone. Ahmik snored in his sleep and farted often, which she and her mother laughed about when it woke them. She looked forward to the quiet nights and grinned to herself when she thought of Ayasha catching a whiff of Ahmik’s nightly flatulence.

She cringed when she heard Sakima walk up and talk to Ahmik. Sakima was vying for Namid’s hand in marriage, but she despised him. He was the son of the Chief and liked to exert his power over others in the tribe, including Namid.

Namid kept working, hoping he would see that she was too busy and go away. It didn’t work, and when he saw her, he walked over to her, and she was pretty sure he flexed his biceps on the way. He was wearing only leather pants with fringe down the legs, but he had no shirt on, and he’d been out hunting, so he was shiny with sweat. She worked harder fleshing the skin and prayed to her gods that he would leave.

Sakima stood beside her and watched her work. Her skin crawled, knowing he was looking over her and probably judging her work. He pointed out a spot she missed, and she flipped her long braids back away from her face and continued to work without responding to him.

The feast that night was more than Namid had seen yet. Not only did everyone bring buffalo, but there were berries and roots, paste made from wild beans, and her favorite, potatoes from the tribal farms. As the night passed, the Chippewa tribe began to go back to their wigwams and pass out from overeating.

Namid helped her mother drag Ahmik back to his bed. He’d found something to drink and was barely able to walk on his own. It was their responsibility to take care of the hunter in the family, so they dutifully stripped off his clothing and laid him in the soft hides he slept in.

Namid was the last to go to sleep. She had to ready the wigwam for the night and make sure the fires were out and the horses were fed. She was exhausted when she finally laid down, and she almost immediately fell asleep.

The call came long before sun-up. It was the loud shrill call from the tribal signalers. Namid sat up suddenly and looked over as Ahmik threw on some pants and grabbed his bow and quiver. She helped her mother get up, and both of them moved toward the back of the wigwam, which is where they were to stay in case of an attack.

Sioux? Namid’s mother whispered.

Gaawesa, Namid whispered back.

She didn’t think it was a Sioux attack. She could hear the sounds of fighting, and it didn’t sound like the whoosh of arrows or even hand-to-hand combat. To her, it sounded like tearing flesh and sudden screams that turned quickly to the gurgle of death.

Namid and her mother both stood suddenly when Ahmik ran into the wigwam. He was covered in blood and yelling for them to run. In the dim light of the fire, Namid could see he was deathly pale and had blood pouring from his neck. He fell to his knees, and she knelt beside him and tried to help him up. He seemed cold to her, and she hated how his eyes were unfocused.

Sounds from outside of their wigwam grew dimmer and finally faded. Namid looked at her mother when footsteps approached their modest home. Both of them were terrified.

When the strange man stepped through the door, Namid and her mother backed up to the wall of their wigwam. He stood taller than any man Namid had ever seen. He didn’t have a shirt on and his muscles were rippling. He was covered in blood, but seemed proud of it. He had light colored skin, and Namid thought that it was the fabled white man who was attacking them.

Three more men stepped through the door. They were equally tall and muscular, but one had skin as dark as the night. Namid’s mouth went dry with fear, and she began to shake.

The dark man smiled at her and spoke in foreign words that Namid didn’t understand.

She pressed harder against the wall at her back.

Drain the old woman, and bring the young one with us. Namid didn’t understand the words, but one of the men grabbed her mother, and she watched in horror as he bit her and began to drink her blood.

Namid screamed when the dark-skinned man grabbed her and began to haul her out of the wigwam. Her screams stopped abruptly when she saw the bodies of her tribe mates lying in heaps around their homes. They were all white and had red marks on their necks. She understood that they had been drained of blood, and that she was next.

The man dragging her along had a strong grip on her arm that was cutting off the circulation. She knew he was taking her to her death, and she just hoped the gods would welcome her, so she could see her father again.

After tying her wrists together, the man picked her up easily, and she felt the wind fly past her as he ran through the night. Even the moon didn’t give her the light she needed to see, but it felt like he was moving inhumanly fast through the rough terrain.

She was finding it hard to breathe. She’d never moved that fast, and his steel grip on her felt colder than it should.

When he slowed, he set her down, and she looked around the odd building. The floors were dirt, but the walls were made of stone, something she hadn’t seen before. The room was round, and there were odd etchings in the stones.

She turned to face the man as she went to grab the tiny knife she used for skinning animals, but the knife was gone, and so was the man. There was only one door in the round room, and she ran to it, but it was too heavy to open. She banged on it for what seemed like an eternity, but no one came to help her.

Finally, Namid looked around the room again to try to find something to explain what was going on, but there was nothing. After trying the heavy door again, Namid sat down against the wall farthest from it and began to cry.

She knew her brother and mother were both dead, and she suspected the strange men had killed her entire tribe too. She’d heard only rumors of the white men that were starting to crawl across their lands, but she didn’t believe the stories when they came down through the Sioux. It sounded to her like a fictitious story meant to instill fear in her tribe. Now though, she began to believe those stories, and the horror of the white men’s actions came rushing at her.

When the door opened, she stood up and looked at the tall man who had been speaking the night before. He wore a blue robe and watched her carefully as he shut the door behind him. Namid wondered why she could even see him, and then she realized that the round room had an ethereal blue glow coming from all around it.

The man smiled menacingly at her and stripped off his robe, revealing his chiseled body beneath it. As he moved toward her, she screamed.

***

Namid could barely move. She’d been lying naked for hours as her body shook with fear.

When the man was finished, he took her head firmly in his hands and whispered strange words to her. She was beginning to understand the language they were speaking, but not enough to fully comprehend what was being done.

The strange man had left when he was done with her, and she had stayed on the dirt floor since. She hurt everywhere, and she knew she had to be bleeding. The man didn’t seem to care and left her without a blanket. With her clothing torn to shreds, she had no way to cover and get warm.

She sat up finally to try to assess the damage. She was covered in bruises and felt like her insides had been torn apart. It was hard to breathe, and her abdomen had stabbing pains through it. She reached up and touched her neck when she felt a sting, only to find two small puncture wounds that she didn’t remember getting.

Namid finally tried to stand up by using the wall as support. Her legs felt weak, and she slowly crumpled back to the floor. With shaky hands, she pulled her torn clothing over her, hoping to get some warmth from the destroyed animal skins.

The door eventually opened again, and the man returned. Each time he came in, she fought him, but his strength was beyond anything she’d encountered before. She wasn’t sure how long she was in that room fulfilling the whims of the large man, but she’d started to realize that she wasn’t going to get out of there alive.

The last time he came in, he smiled down at her, and she pressed against the wall, hoping to get as far away from him as she could. This time, he didn’t strip off the blue robe but turned and watched twelve others come into the room. They all wore similar blue robes, except one, and his was as black as night. She couldn’t see their faces, but her mind imagined demonic eyes beneath the shadows of the hoods.

The man in black grabbed her roughly, not seeming to care that she was naked and covered in bruises and welts. He took her to the middle of the room as the other men in blue positioned themselves around the walls.

He again took her head in his hands and spoke angrily to her. His words were full of malice, and he spit them at her like they were foul.

Why are you teaching her that? one of the men in blue asked him.

Because, this’ll make her more hunted than we are.

But she can’t know those things! You’re an Old One, and those are for Old Ones only.

Shut up!

Telling her those things will teach her the words to Ancient only incantations! You don’t think that’ll make her powerful?

No, it’ll make her hated, he said, and then returned to Namid.

When he was done, he stepped back and looked down at her with disgust.

Mortal, do you know where you are? one of the men in blue asked. His words were unfamiliar to Namid, and she looked up at him, wondering what they had in store for her now.

She does, the man in black replied. His voice threatened to stop her heart, and she wondered if he was going to take her again. The pain from what he’d done previously was fresh in her mind, and her body still ached from it.

Do you know what is about to happen?

She does.

Do you do so willingly and without coercion?

Yes, she does. Namid prayed to the gods that she could understand what was happening to her. None of the words were even remotely familiar to her.

Proceed, the man in blue said.

Namid struggled when the man in black began to force her down to the dirt floor. She was afraid he was going to violate her again, and she didn’t think she could survive it, especially if he did it while the others watched.

When the men in blue moved toward her and sunk their teeth into the soft flesh on her exposed body, Namid began to scream. The pain was excruciating and seemed to never end. She could feel herself dying as they drained her body of blood.

Namid felt something pressed against her lips, and she opened her mouth out of desperation to save herself. As the man’s blood slid down her throat, she gripped his arm tightly and relished in the salty flavor of it. It was like nothing she’d had before, and she began to crave it.

She was too weak to fight back when the man moved his bleeding wrist away from her. She reached out to grab his arm, to taste more of it, but he easily pulled away from her. Namid was relieved when they stopped biting her, but she felt too weak to even move as she lie naked on the cold ground.

The man in black picked up a long stick and started to write strange symbols around her in the dirt. She could feel her body begin to seize, but she was acutely aware of everything going on in the room. Her back arched, and the muscles in her neck stood out as the symbols etched into the walls and ceiling began to glow.

She heard soft chanting coming from all around her but again couldn’t understand them. She began to lose consciousness, just as she saw the man raise the thick stick above her and then plunge it deep into her heart. The pain was like a white-hot flash of lighting hitting her directly in the chest, but she could no longer scream, and darkness took over.

***

Namid woke up and immediately sat up and felt her chest to see how bad the wound was, but she found no injury. She looked confusingly at her arms. They seemed longer and more muscular than she was. Her hands were powerful, and she flexed them slowly, just to make sure they were truly hers.

She stood up carefully and looked around at the trees. She wasn’t in familiar territory, and things looked, smelled, and sounded weird.

She could hear the soft flutter of a bird’s heart beating as he flew along the nearby mountains. Somehow, she could smell a stream running rapidly down through the woods. Her eyes scanned the trees and took in each tiny bug and small animal. She moved toward a tree and touched the bark as every minute fiber was visible to her.

The memory of the odd ceremony came back to her, and she looked down at her body to see if the bites were visible. What she found was a tall, muscular frame. She was still naked, so she was able to see all of her body. It didn’t look or feel like the body she had the day before, and her confusion deepened.

Suddenly, Namid’s mouth began to water, and she inhaled deeply at the appetizing scent that had wafted past her with a breeze. Her nakedness left her mind as her instincts honed in on the smell, and she began to run toward the west. She ran faster than she could ever imagine, and with each step, the scent grew stronger.

By the time she emerged into a clearing, she could taste the salty blood on the air.

There was another with her, a white man who was crouched down skinning a small rodent.

He looked up at her and frowned. Where did you come from?

Before she even realized