Huntsman Returned

By Andrew Michael Schwarz

Cole is awarded the honorary title of Huntsman Returned and Felina's hand in marriage, but Tingor was the better huntsman, so shouldn't he have gotten the prize and Felina, too? Now, Cole must lead the colony as its chieftain; problem is, he has a terrible secret that no one can find out, especially Felina. Except someone did find out: Tingor.

Huntsman Returned is "Lord of the Flies" on another world. .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Michael Schwarz
• Release date: Jul 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311288660

Andrew Michael Schwarz

Andrew Michael Schwarz is a speculative fiction writer working in the genres of fantasy and horror. He describes his work as Narnia for Grown Ups and uses themes of horror and fantasy to examine deeper philosophical underpinnings about the nature of the universe and the human experience. He writes as Andrew Michael Schwarz for more sf and fantasy based themes and A. Michael Schwarz for deep horror.

Book preview

Please Note

Copyright 2014 Andrew Michael Schwarz.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First Printing, 2014

Andrew Michael Schwarz

PO Box 383

Renton, WA 98057

[e-mail]

Huntsman Returned

by

Andrew Michael Schwarz

We were children then, but also colonists. Our world was a narrow edge of greenery on the brink of nowhere.

I was fifteen when I became chieftain.

***

Our heads hung low as we returned to camp, ashamed and defeated. The younger ones gathered about us, their eyes hopeful, but all too soon the truth became apparent: we’d caught nothing of substance.

Tingor tossed down a string of rabbits, a statement of our paltry catch. Felina, the eldest, just shook her head and turned away.

That night I slept uneasily, dreaming of the fierce winters that lasted six months at least. Last year, food stores had run dangerously low, shrinking our waistlines and morale.

It couldn’t happen again.

The next morning I awoke to the sounds of our annual preparations for the oncoming season. Felina, and her most able assistant, Hegira, darted gracefully about the camp issuing orders for grain storage, meat salting and the like. It felt good to be home performing routine, if not mundane, tasks directed by Felina’s assertive hand.

Once I’d begun my chore of tanning hide, I gathered a handful of moments to engage in what I termed my secret ritual. As I snuck off through the tall grass and sun warmed wind, I could feel the budding electrification of this base, personal pleasure.

I was a young man on the cusp of adulthood living in a barracks and I had just returned from a hunt of ten days that afforded no privacy. My body craved release.

The cellar was dark, quiet and removed from everything. It smelled of dried meat and dust. I opened the door and crept inside, confirming with a backward glance that I had arrived alone.

I untied the tops of my trousers.

Cole!

I jumped, nearly out of my skin. My heart was a howlman thudding prehistoric feet on mud-softened earth.

Cole? the voice crept closer, inside the cellar now.

Um…yeah? My voice squeaked. Shame burned my cheeks and I was fumbling ineptly with the tie string of my pants.

Cole, what are you doing in here? It was Hegira, now poised domineering at the mouth of the cellar.

I swallowed. Um, looking for a rake.

Why do you need a rake?

Well…you know.

Anyways, Felina wants all the traps set. The others have already begun.

I finished my pointless search for the phantom tool. "Okay. I’ll be