Loyalty and Friendship: Crossedover Series, #2

By Janice M. Swanson

Who is Mace? And where did he come from? This is Mace's story.

If you have read the first book of the series, you will recognize much, as you live it again, but through Mace's eyes. This novel makes that story his own. Then goes beyond, to live not only with Sol and Skye and the other trusted men, but the only woman for him, and their children.

His birth will surprise you and at the age of sixteen, he is told, by the man he thought was his father, who is really his uncle, and the brothers are now cousins. One is a good friend, the other an ugly jealous man who attempts to kill anyone who doesn't agree with him, including his twin brother. But because Mace has learnt to duck the viciousness of the ugly cousin Ulrik, from a young age he stays to keep an eye on things. The war between the brothers is concluded, but that is not the end of the problems. A new friend arrives, a man called Tayn, who although Maori obviously has connections with Sol, and through this young man they learn what to expect from waring with the Natives.  Matiu is kidnapped and taken North by family, and things slowly fall apart.

Mace learns there is a connection back to his friend, even after Aaron crosses back to his own time, which Mace takes up and treasures. The Valley population learn to take everything thrown at them, on the chin, as there are more Crossovers, while preserving their own way of life.

Mace is the man you would want at your side for his loyalty is strong and never wavers. He does the right thing no matter what; for anyone he calls a friend.    

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janice M. Swanson
• Release date: Nov 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201999018

Janice M. Swanson

 Born in New Zealand, married to a man who was salt of the Earth - a keen hunter and fisherman. An avid bush hiker and fisherman herself (trout, sea, and long-lining on the beach), Janice also bred show dogs and tended a one-acre garden. Eventually, her husband passed, well-educated son moved to the USA, and dogs dwindled in numbers. With a life full of wonderful experiences, she returned to the manuscript begun earlier. Later, she came to live in the USA where she finished the series. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

A New Land

The day had turned out better than first indicated; the mist sat just above the waters of the wide slow-moving river then slowly disappeared as the sky lightened into a new day. Erlief walked as close as he dared to the edge of the water. The thick growth of ferns made walking difficult, and it was only going to get worse. Up ahead he could see where the bush and tree ferns were right down to the water’s edge. The water glistened as the sunlight played on the ripples created when the breeze stirred the surface or insects settled on the water.

What was left of the winter he spent in a structure he’d crudely made of driftwood and brush, enough to keep the cool wind and rain at bay. Then improved upon over the weeks, it was near to the shore where he had been washed up. He needed to relive, digest, and come to terms with what had happened. It had been a freak wave that took the tall sails ship to her grave at the bottom of the ocean. All he remembered was how cold the water had been and how he’d clung to a cabin trunk that kept him afloat but also helped push him further south with the drift of the sea from where the ship went down; he’d been lucky, for the wind had also been pushing him closer to the land.

As far as he knew he was the only survivor, and that meant his whole family, including his mother and father, who had been in the cabin at the time the ship went down, they never had a chance. Most of the passengers were below deck sheltering due to the wind, but some of the crew members and his younger brother Erik, who was with others of his age, had been further along the deck from him. The youngest of the family, their sister, he had no idea where she had been at that time. All must have perished along with the other travelers and the crew; gone down with the ship or drowned.

On seeing a small beach, he set out to swim for the shore. He didn’t expect the trunk to follow him, but it too washed up on the same bit of beach. As he looked back at the sea, he thought he saw heads that looked like black dots bobbing out beyond the crest of the crashing waves. He yelled and waved but they didn’t see or hear him.

He took the time to mourn the loss of his family and then come to terms with the fact he was on his own. Learning to survive in an unknown place where nothing looked familiar was not to be taken lightly, but he knew what he had to do. To survive, he had to kill the despair he felt. Erlief was used to living and surviving on his own in the forests from where he had come, back in Europe; he knew he could do it. He needed to protect himself and find food. Having done both, in the past he had some idea as to what he would need. But the need to know what was in the trunk, seemed more important right now.

When he eventually managed to open it, he found an axe and knife attached to a belt, a drinking container, a pot-like saucepan, a tin bowl, plate, mug, and a spoon. The biggest prize of all was a waterproof pouch holding firelighter stones. It attached to the belt. The stones were individually wrapped tightly in soft skin. In a bag meant to be carried on ones back, there had been a pair of thick pants, two shirts, and a thick jacket coat that fell to his knees. Beneath them all was a long coil of cord, and small coil of dried animal intestines. As he lay them out to dry in the air near his camp, he couldn’t help wondering to whom the trunk belonged. The owner had been kitted out to move about, and he couldn’t help thinking this was fate, for not only did the cabin trunk help him to stay afloat in the cold water, but it was also giving him much needed weapons and tools to survive.

He, Erlief Sweinson, had survived for a reason, and he guessed he would find out soon enough, why.

Everything was a size too big, including the boots, which were too long and wide. But they had kept his feet in better shape during what was left of the colder weather. The clothes had been invaluable on the cooler nights, but now the summer had arrived, and his feet were beginning to harden; he could walk anywhere barefooted. It was so much better than dealing with the blisters caused by the ill-fitting boots.

Erlief remembered a man on the ship whom he thought the trunk must have belonged to. Tall and well-muscled with a mass of reddish-blonde hair, he appeared to be traveling on his own and had stayed pretty much to himself and spoke to no one. Because Erlief was as tall, although younger and a little less massive, there was mutual respect between them, even though they had never actually spoken. He couldn’t help silently thanking the stranger for what he now had, especially the firelighters, the axe, and knife.

One thing Erlief didn’t like was the bitter cold, so he wanted to move on as quickly as he could. He knew which way was north since he could read the stars. Four stars in the shape of a cross, called the southern cross, were of particularly significant. Naturally curious, while over hearing conversation on the ship, he learned that these stars would tell him which direction to head in and how to read them.

He knew north would take him closer to a warmer climate and hopefully a better life. So, he began experimenting with anything that looked like it could be twisted into a flat basket-like shape that he could carry under an arm or tie to his back. Finally, he ended up with such a carrier, and using a little of the cord woven through, it was able to hang off a shoulder. It would hold enough food collected for a day. He also decided to take the boots. Tying the laces together, he could carry them along with the clothes bag over a shoulder. By near mid-summer Erlief was ready and had set out heading north.

After half a day walking, he came to a wide swiftly moving river, too wide to cross, he spent a night thinking about what he would do. He had no alternative but to walk westward and follow the river upstream to try to find a place to safely cross. This took him into the mountains that stretched as far as he could see both ways north and southwards. But as he plodded on, there was nowhere for him to cross the raging torrent. Seeing birds, he could kill if only he had bow and arrows. He spent half a day making one, testing it out on the next bird he saw creeping through the underbrush in front of him, with success.

It took all of what was left of the summer to reach a place where he could finally cross. Having come this far, he decided he might as well see where all this water came from. The going was tough as he kept walking deeper into the mountains. With the summer almost over, he would need to find some place to wait out the worst of the cold weather. He hoped he still had time to make himself comfortable before the snows came. This thought was constantly on his mind as he walked.

He eventually came across the lake high up enclosed in the mountain range that helped feed the river, and good for drinking. Walking around the edge for most of the morning, he stopped for a drink and noticed a leaf he knew was OK to eat. As he ate, he looked around him and noticed a discrepancy in the wall of the rock face behind him. Further investigation led to the discovery of a small cave that was clean and dry with a sandy floor and a natural rock formation that would help give him shelter from draft. He was able to build a fire pit of stones near the entrance and spent the next few days collecting firewood to stack nearby but out of the weather. He also made piles of smaller sticks and dried grasses to start the fire should it go out.

But by the second day he decided he would make his sleeping place a lot more comfortable by collecting dried grasses and moss and placing them behind the rock formation well out of the draft. He kept his axe and knife within easy reach. Each time he went out he also looked for food, memorizing the places, for he knew this would all be covered in snow in the height of winter. He needed to be able to return to this place, which appeared to be a path taken by birds. Birds were plentiful in this land, and he was able to make kills as needed, with the bow and arrows he had made.

His stay there was relatively good despite the cold. Twice he was snowed in, but it was relatively warm inside the cave, much to his delight. He dug a small hole through the snow near the top of the cave’s entrance to let the smoke out and another at the bottom that gave him enough room to allow air in and to crawl out for ablutions.

To keep occupied, he began carving patterns on the cave wall that told his story, a tall sail ship, stormy sea, a map of sorts showing his trek from the sea following the river into the mountains, all to keep busy until he saw the sunlight behind a fall snow. He dug his way through and cleared much of the snow from the entrance way, as he could; to keep it melting back into the cave. He was glad of the extra clothing and was thankful he had not discarded the boots; he’d wrap his feet in long grass and with great effort push them in. This kept his feet warm inspite of the tight fit.

The lingering snow meant a scarcity of food. He killed a few extra birds when he saw them for there were times when there was nothing else to eat.

It was on such a journey out of the cave, he saw high in the sky, a very large eagle, and realized that he had a competitor for food. There were two more falls of snow before it finally stopped. He survived on two meals a day, the only good thing with the cold, it kept what little meat he did have frozen and fresher for longer, he was thankful for that.

Then suddenly it was over, and the snow was replaced with rain. Several weeks of rain gave him the time he needed to get ready to leave. Then the sky finally cleared to blue and this time the sun had warmth. Erlief decided it was time to leave, so one morning he set out, everything he owned upon his back and carried in his hands.

Chapter 2

Birds; Small, Cheeky, and Very Large

Since spring arrived , he had become aware of all the noises around him, like the birds in the trees. Some, hard to see in the green of the bush, with a song that reminded him of the church bells of home; another with its unique tuft of white feathers at its throat while the rest of it was dark green iridescent blue-black depending on the light. He found if he whistled a short melody, it would answer him, with the same notes.

By mid-afternoon on the fifth day came a crashing sound, back deep in the bush, and it was coming his way. He ran to the large, gnarled trunk of a gigantic tree that was growing out of the bank close to the water. Jumping up, he swung upward until he was just under the canopy. With his back to the main trunk, the branch that he sat on was wide enough to allow him to sit lotus fashion. He looked about and saw that the tree was magnificent in its structure. These trees were scattered around the lake, growing out of the banks that were part of the edge of the lake. Through the branches below the canopy, he could see across the lake from where he’d started out five days ago. From his position he could just make out the sound of the falling water, estimating it would take him as long again to reach it.

The thrashing was coming closer, he slowly withdrew an arrow and placed it in the bow. The noise was becoming louder, and then to his amazement, thru the trees, swerving and at a surprising pace was the largest bird he had ever seen. With long legs like tree trunks and large feet, it was as tall as he was at its shoulder, light brown it was well camouflaged from head to foot it stood well above six feet. The bird’s body was massive and covered with layer upon layer of long, soft, brown feathers similar to the weka bird, he had been eating. This bird with its long neck stretched out as it wound its way through the thick bush, and its cry sounded of fear. And no wonder since circling above was the largest flying bird he had ever seen. It was the eagle he’d seen on occasion throughout the winter, an extremely large eagle with an enormous beak and talons. The wingspan had to be three to four meters, the full length of which was needed to keep the bird airborne.

It flew between and around the trees as it tried to keep up with the large bird on the ground that was obviously its next meal. Erlief watched fascinated as the twelve-to-fifteen-kilogram Haast Eagle flushed the giant wingless bird out of the bush into the open and onto what little beach there was. It swooped down talons first to sink through the feathers, with one foot wrapped around the backbone while the other hit the main artery so it would cause the bird to drown in its own blood. The large flightless bird hit the ground thrashing about, finally to slow to a stop as its lungs filled with its own blood. The eagle began tearing into the body—it’s first meal in days.

With the eagle busy, Erlief managed to slip out of the tree unnoticed and with stealth moved away to continue his journey, now a little more attentive.

Each time the beach came into view he could see the bird either feeding or resting, but it never left its kill. He had to climb up over rock before reaching the top of an outcrop that ran out into the Lake. On looking back, he had a good view of the large eagle and what was left of its meal.

Erlief kept moving upwards it was a steep climb to the top while taking time to eat and find a safe resting place to sleep nights. He’d just taken two and a half days to climb another hill to reach the top, close to where the waterfall fell into the lake. He was surprised he could still make out the eagle that hadn’t left its kill after almost five days.

He decided to rest here and take in the view all round. He was above the bush line where scrub and tussock grasses grew. There was a reasonably flat top to the much larger hilly area, with snow still in pockets, and a much smaller lake. As he investigated the depths, he could see bubbles rising to the surface. To his left at the end of the lake there was a split outlet, one fell into the lake below that he had just walked around, the other he would investigate. Looking back and down to where he had started out ten days ago, he could just make out the beach in front of his cave. No one would ever know the cave was there.

This was the highest point surrounding that lake, there were higher mountains surrounding them. After taking in a drink and a little food, he wrapped his feet in grass and with great effort push them into the boots, it was hard walking. He had left the bush during the climb to stand amidst scrubby bush, unlike what surrounded the lake below. Right now, he was interested to see what was on the other side.

Moving over closer to the edge, he could see the valley below with a river winding through the lower mountains out onto what looked like flat plains beyond. The bush as thick there as it had been when he’d followed another river before winter to the lake and the cave, he’d spent winter. But if he could find a way down, there wasn’t any reason why he couldn’t travel alongside that river. From where he stood it was an immediate drop—a cliff. He would have to find another way and hopefully be on the northern side of the river so he wouldn’t have to cross it further down.

He decided to move around the bubbling lake to see what the other side was like. This would place him on the northern side of the river and where he needed to be. Setting off he looked for an easy path past the much smaller lake to where there appeared to be more flat land.

Finally stepping out into a clearing from the scrub, he had been surprised the lake water was warm. He could feel the heat and detect a slightly sulphury smell coming off it as he walked by. There was a bit of a beach on this side of the lake and the sand felt a little warm, so he decided to stay a night if he could find a place to sleep, he might just try to bathe in the heated water.

He spent three nights enjoying the warm waters. By then he had exhausted his food supplies and lost a shirt to a mountain parrot that kept returning. It was large for a parrot with a very strong beak. He had hung his shirt on the bush to dry after it had rained, while he soaked in the warm water. Looking for his shirt later, he was to discover two parrots having a wonderful time shredding it. He yelled and shook his fist at them as they both took off into the air, circling him as they squawked, kea, kea, kea. He decided he’d had enough. Besides with his dwindling food supply, he had no alternative but to leave. Now wearing the only shirt he possessed, he decided to descend into the valley and move on.

This proved harder than he thought. Now he was mindful of the shingle/shale rock on the way down. He could end up sliding to a certain death over the edge. He picked his way slowly to the edge of the tree line and the shingle edge. By nightfall he still had a way to go, so that first night he had to wedge himself between the exposed roots of a tree and the hillside to sleep in a cramped position.

Awakening at dawn, he didn’t stop to eat but continued the journey downward that took him another two days. Thankfully the last half-day the terrain flattened out somewhat and the shingle had long disappeared. Now the bush became more intense and harder to walk through. The going was rough due to thick ground ferns and the steeple jacks and jasmines that grew along the ground in competition to find a host trunk that would enable them to reach the canopy. He spent another night within the root system of a massively huge fallen tree, which was a nursery for so many different plants. By this time, he was becoming used to the damp smell of old rotting vegetation that was the floor to this thick jungle-like bush.

Midday he broke out of the thick bush and could hear a waterfall off to his right. He had deliberately stayed away from all water on his way down due to being slippery underfoot, but now he made towards the sound. The last day and a half he had been able to collect a few edible plants, so he ate as he walked but now he needed to drink.

He was about to step out from around a tree when an unfamiliar sound warned him to approach with caution. He peered around the trunk and out on the beach was another eagle; this one was also feeding on its kill though it appeared to have all but finished. That night it rained hard enough that he was able to catch water in a bowl-like container he used as a food bowl. It was half full in no time and he was able to quench his thirst by the time the rain stopped. Still needing to fill his larger water container, he waited, laying low and well hidden, for the massive bird to finish. Something warned him a bird this size and a meat eater could be dangerous. He wasn’t wrong as he was soon to find out.

It took another half day for the bird to finish feeding, and after resting it finally took off into the blue sky. Erlief watched it circle overhead before heading toward the mountains in the distance. No sooner was it out of sight than he made straight for the water. He dove in and came up gasping for it was cold. Then walked out onto the bank and stood there stamping his feet, looking about him. His eyes fell on what was left of the eagles’ feast. Curiosity got the better of him, and as he moved closer the smell was horrific, but he continued as something strange attracted his attention.

Maybe it was the length of the bones; they certainly weren’t the remains of a bird and he had not come across any animals other than the odd rat. The closer he got, the more he realized he was looking at the remains of an adult human. What dark hair was left was long; the bones had been picked clean, eyes gone, leaving a clean skull, which seemed to be smiling because there were no lips to cover the still full set of teeth. The only flesh still clinging to the bones was that of the fingers, toes, and the skull, where the hair clung. As he stared, a chill built inside his chest as the realization hit him.

He was not the only human around, and he had been extremely lucky to have not encountered this predator in his travels. But he would take this as a warning. He remembered that the eagle had hunted the larger bird from behind and that it flushed it out into the open before striking right where the neck joined the body. The same had happened here to this human: the backbone was broken at the shoulder and the lower neck. Maybe whoever it was had been drinking, and not heard its approach.

As he moved away, he realized he was going to have to keep his eyes peeled to the heavens, especially out in the open as that appeared to be where it would attack. He was going to have to keep checking above and behind him. He moved into the bush and began his journey northeast alongside the river that was to gain momentum in both volume and size over the next few days.

Food was more plentiful now and he was now able to eat three good meals a day. This gave him more energy, and he was able to move faster as the river wove its way through the high hills as he followed it. The trees were different and along the way he came across huge ones that had fallen during storms he had yet to witness. The fallen trees became a nursery for all kinds of life as the trees took years to break down and join the vegetation on the forest floor.

What helped this process in the fallen logs was the larva of a large insect, a member of the longhorn beetle. Females lay three-millimeter cigar-shaped eggs in clutches of ten to fifty in each. The eggs hatch in three weeks and remain in their larval form for up to three years. They feed on the dead wood, and it is at this stage of their life that they are eatable and believed to be a good source of protein, the Maori call them Huhu bugs. The adult Huhu beetle no longer eat at all, and only live another two weeks after changing into its beetle form. It is nocturnal and was attracted to light—including Erlief’s fire. He brushed them away from his fire and for his effort their mandibles were strong enough to give him a painful bite. But he decided he was lucky to have only this problem in a wilderness such as he’d been living the past year and a half.

Erlief found the Huhu grubs when he slipped while crossing a log and his foot broke off a chunk of the wood, scraping his big toe. Looking down, he cursed then noticed the bugs, heaps of them within the cavity his foot had uncovered. He picked one up by the dark head, it looked fat and juicy, he sniffed it, then placed it on his tongue; he bit down and then nodded as the flavor hit his taste buds. Cooked chicken like his mother used to make. He stood there making a meal of all the fat grubs he could find then took a drink before he moved on to clean up his toe. He felt it was worth the small injury and the painful bite; he had found another food source.

Every night he looked for the four stars in the sky to make sure he was headed in the right direction. Occasionally he had to adjust his bearing by taking note of a point on the distant horizon to where he needed to head during daylight. He felt he was making progress toward his destination.

Sometimes he also saw the odd eagle slowly circling in the skies above the mountains then dropping like lightening to kill its prey; but they were never directly over his head. He never did see another of the large flightless birds, but during the night he did hear a few moving about in the bush. Strange that there were no mammals; just bats, the only mammal seen and only at dusk if one was lucky. There was the odd small gecko, very long worms, and huge snails that ate the worms. While resting after a particularly hard climb, he had watched a snail the size of a dinner plate, absorb a worm very slowly. There was little else as far as he could tell, or he was yet to find them. He was delighted that in the months since being washed ashore he had not seen a snake either. Just a fly that caused him a few problems when hanging around.

The birds were plentiful. There were several flightless varieties, probably due having no animals in competition for food. And it appeared there were no predators either. He had never seen the like before, all the birds were greenish brown or dull colors, with their own distinct cries he was learning to identify. There was one he had a fondness for . . . a tiny bird with a light tan breast and dark brown or black on its back with a tail it could spread like a fan. They twittered about, followed him as he walked. He noticed they were feeding on very small airborne insects as they flittered all around him opening and shutting their fan-like tails. He enjoyed their company even though he knew what drew them. At feed time, it was his movement that disturbed the tiny insects that were their meal.

The going was rough in many places and at one point he had no alternative but to head east. This meant heading down off the mountains, he’d long since left the original stream behind. Now he followed another, and temperatures were once again dropping. He needed to find a place to hold up for the winter, and this time he decided he would head toward the lowlands.

He found the perfect spot within the bush. It was on flat ground above a small freshwater stream. There were several trees growing very close together with plenty of steeplejacks, plus smaller easy-to-cut trees. He made himself a small hut using the thin vines to attach and weave for the walls. He collected stones, enough to make a small fire pit at its entrance. Again, he collected wood and lined the walls, pushing small leaves and brush between the two, hoping it would help to insulate a little from the cold and draft. The dried grasses would become his bed and help start the fire should it go out. He built traps to catch birds for food, and every day he went looking for what he called the spinach plant. Here and there he found some with seeds still attached; these he collected in a piece of cloth he had torn from the bottom of his shirt. He collected the tuber roots of wild turnip and swede. From the clear mountain stream nearby, he kept his container of drinking water full. He also noticed small crayfish-type fish under rocks in the stream. Collecting a handful of these, he roasted them in the ashes of the fire. They made for another welcome change of food and had a delightful delicate flavor. He could roast a bird over the fire and roast the Swede and turnip root in the hot coals, giving him a variety of flavors.

Coming down off the mountains, there were a larger variety of ferns, all of which certain parts could be eaten. The fresh new shoots of the hen and chicken fern tasted like asparagus. This land was bountiful for all kinds of food, but other than birds and fish, there were no animals. There were huge lakes he walked around and was able to bathe in when he camped. Wild duck was full of flavor as were many of the others, but he enjoyed the pigeon best. Catching them took no skill at all; they sat on a branch waiting for his arrow to pierce the heart. A big bird in comparison to what he was used to, he could get two feeds from the one.

The second winter was easier here, where the forest protected him from not only the snow, but the heavy rain and anything else that was thrown at him during that time. It was still cold and there was snow about, but he was sheltered from the worst of it. He could walk around outside with relative ease. Birds were also about, and that meant better eating right through winter.

When spring approached the urge to move on once more became stronger. What snow that had been about had melted, and the stream nearby was a raging torrent as the snows began melting on the tops. So, he set to rights the hut that had been home for a while, pulling it down and leaving the area much as he’d found it four months earlier.

Chapter 3

A Heart Shot

After sleeping out in the open the last night, he set out at sunup and followed the stream down crossing it at a point where it narrowed. When he finally came to the end of the thick bush, there were fewer trees, but the undergrowth was as thick and a kind of shrubby with large leaves made walking just as difficult. He made camp each night and slept without shelter. The terrain had long since flattened out, so he only had the under growth to worry about. He met two more streams, but they were easy to cross. Although he could see more of the sky now, he had heard the thrashing sounds of large birds moving through the bush around dusk. He never actually slept until all was quiet.

It was past two years since the ship rolled and after many months of traveling without mishap, he felt he had made great progress. He began thinking of taking a detour and walking out towards the ocean, just to see if anyone had managed to swim ashore from the wreck. He kept remembering those heads he had seen in the water he was sure had been people from the ship, and because he had travelled high in the mountains until very recently, he could well have missed others who’d made land.

For the next few weeks, he crossed plains going from the mountains on out to the rocky coast. He entered one thicket of native trees and ferns for cover while watching his back as he moved between them, forever searching the sky for the eagle. The trees also gave him a small amount of protection at night.

Erlief had just spent a night on a sandy part of the shore of a long sweeping beach. As he swam in the sea, the saltwater felt good on his skin. He ate shellfish he dug up, a change from the birds and grubs he had been feeding on since being in the new land. But eventually the salt built up on his skin and in his hair and both were dry and uncomfortable. He needed to move inland to find fresh water.

And it didn’t take long to find. As he walked inland in a north westerly direction toward the lower hills of the mountains, he was happy to find that there were many streams on his walks, and he came across a small fresh stream where he stayed a few nights. He washed his clothes and bathed in the fresh cool water. After eating a meal and now dressed in freshly washed and dried clothes, he had a need to head into the mountains once more. There was no one around as far as he could see. He decided to follow the stream that wound through the countryside while he climbed slowly into the highlands once more. In the heat of summer, it was heaven to finally be able to travel in the cool of the bush on the lower slopes of the mountains that rose on his left as he moved northwards.

It was late afternoon when he heard a scream and yelling. He dashed through the growth to a clearing where a shallow stream rushed over a rocky bed. On the other side were dark-skinned people, two men looked like warriors, a woman, and three children, all dressed in unusual clothing. The men were yelling and waving their hands while the woman ushered three young children in front of her as she ran; she kept looking back and up, her face full of fear. Erlief followed her eyes, and he knew what was about to happen. He ran to the edge of the trees and plodded halfway across the shallow stream. Up to his knees in the low flowing water, he plucked an arrow from the quiver on his back.

As he placed it in the bow, the woman and the eagle appeared to be coming straight for him. He was exposed to the two young men, but he didn’t care; he pulled back the gut string and lined up the eagle as it began its dive for the attack. He waited, knowing it would drop its legs minutes before it reached its target and when its body would be most exposed. He lined it up and followed it down with the tip of the arrow. When he saw the legs drop, he let the arrow go at an angle slightly lower than the bird to take account of its flight path. He watched the arrow in flight. If his calculations were out at all, the woman wouldn’t stand a chance.

But the arrow hit true. The momentum of the woman carried on while the bird stopped midflight and tumbled to the ground; the extraordinary large talons missing the woman by a mere breath. He moved swiftly out of the water and over to where the bird lay on the ground to see it in the last throes of life as death took it. He reached down, grasped the arrow, and pulled it free. Right through the heart, he hadn’t lost his touch.

Meanwhile, the six people had moved up beside him and were looking from him to the now dead eagle and back again. They spoke excitedly between them, gesturing with hands and eyes and speaking in a different tongue, one he had not heard before. But it was obvious they were not only surprised but also very grateful. It had been a very close call.

As Erlief looked at the woman, she was still working to get her breathing to normalize. Her eyes were large and dark brown beneath long, dark lashes, and she was younger than he first thought. She was beautiful. Her face was hidden within hair that in huge waves and fell about her face and like a cloak about her shoulders down past her elbows. She touched his arm and gestured. He shook his head and lifted his shoulders, not really understanding until one of the children came up on his other side, took his hand, and pulled him near the group.

You come with us.

You speak my tongue? How? He asked.

We had two men come. They taught us new words and built us a new home up beyond this mountain. It is warmer and safer than where we were before. Erlief nodded. There was little time for more talk as they set off single file back through the trees from where he had come.

The two warriors picked up the bird, and that was no mean feat. Each had hold of a leg and were attempting to keep the wings from dragging on the ground. The bird had a wingspan of about three meters, making carrying it an awkward task, and it must have weighed in at eleven to twelve kilograms. But they were determined to bring it to wherever they were leading Erlief. It took them most of the day to reach their destination.

They arrived as darkness fell, to a wall fashioned from logs, he could see the mud they had pushed into the cracks between the logs. It was still a work in progress and if they kept up the process, they would eventually cover the logs, giving the wall the look of concrete. There was a stream that flowed through the Valley further over, away from the wall.

The wooden gates opened at a yell from one of the warriors, and they all trooped inside to find a large community, the huts, and a larger building of all in various stages of being finished and of the same material as the wall outside. There were finished workshops and a stable for animals immediately through the gate. It looked as if there was a second story being built on top of a large building toward the other end of the community. They arrived at a hut where the woman spoke to the children, and one turned and spoke to Erlief.

This is where you can stay. Tomorrow you will meet the other men who look as you.  

He followed the woman inside the room. It was spacious with an alcove on one side that held a bed and chest of draws. Another door led to bathroom and shower. He was standing in a living room that had a table and a couch, and in the corner was a small but adequate kitchen. It had a fireplace big enough to hang a cooking pot. There was one window that looked out onto the road they had walked, covered with cloth for privacy. He sat down and watched the woman he’d saved from a dreadful death.

Ariana moved busily about the small area, filling the pot over a now naked flame. He stood up and walked over to the bench she was working at and emptied his food kit onto it. She looked up at him, smiled, noticing for the first time his eyes. Having never seen anyone with one blue eye and one green eye she was fascinated. Saying nothing, she nodded reaching for the bird, it wasn’t long before the smells coming forth made him realize he’d had little to eat that day. 

They ate and then she suggested in sign language he take the bed and she would sleep out in the living room. He didn’t argue but took a shower and ended up laid out across the bed on his stomach in the raw; he seemed to be asleep before he even hit the bed.

Ariana walked around him and collected his clothes, which she washed before hanging them out in front of the fire to dry overnight. She couldn’t help but pause to take in his massive muscled-bound shoulders and torso that sloped into hips, strong buttocks, and massive legs. He had done a lot of walking and was in fine shape. His long, damp golden hair fell over his beautiful face. He had saved her from a terrible death and there was something about him that told her he would help her, she just had to ask him with Rawiri’s help in the morning. She took a quick shower too and sighed as she settled onto the couch to sleep.

They had just finished breakfast in a companionable silence when they heard a knock on the door. Ariana got up to open it. It was Rawiri. He quickly ducked inside, closing the door behind him. They spoke in their own tongue and then Rawiri turned to the tall blond man.

Ariana needs your help. The other man like you, he wants to take her into his bed, but she doesn’t want to. She is afraid of him, like most of us here.

When do I get to meet him?

Mana and Manu will come for you, when it is time. Erlief shook his head not understanding who they were.

They carried the eagle home, said Rawiri.

Ah, so this man who looks like me, he taught you to speak?