The Way of the Tracker

Banura looks up as his new apprentice approaches and stifles a groan. 

He had hoped to be deep within the forest before he approached. Shabby, plump, young, overpacked and overly eager, the creature runs to him drenched in sweat.

“May I say, sir, I am pleased to be under your tutelage.” 

They had sent him another even when he had begged not to. He was tired of these cowards they threw his way, who claimed they wanted to learn but always did their best to ignore what he taught. Who marched straight into danger and suffered for it. He was done carrying the blood of young ones on his reluctant hands.

“Mozey, at your service.”

His voice is filled with excitement. Excitement without reason gets people killed. Ban thinks of how to run this one off - a few snide comments about his appearance, some horror stories of what lay in the forest beyond, or just simply outrun him.

“I was told to accompany you on your latest mission, top secret work for the king.” He adds this last bit in a whisper.

Ban grunts, lifts his satchel and walks into the small opening at the mouth of the forest. 

“Razar did say that you would be difficult to befriend. Won’t talk much, won’t share findings, won’t ask for help. But that’s okay. I’m ready to learn as much as I can with as little as you are willing to give. How to see beasts and read the forest. How to be one with nature and let it tell me its secrets.” Mozey bounces on his feet and wears a grin as wide as the river. "Can you tell I read your book ‘One with Nature.’?”

Ban groans. He had not wanted to write a book either. In fact, he didn’t write it. But Razar was convinced that Ban needed saving from himself and imposed all these things on him. The scribe who took Ban’s silence and wrote a book. The tenant who took Ban’s silence and redecorated his house. The cook who took Ban’s silence and made him a menu he did not appreciate. Razar, himself, who took Ban’s silence as a plea to upset his life.

This last one was the apprentice. Razar made sure Ban couldn’t wiggle out of it and passed it as law. Every trader and skillsman who had been in the business for more than a decade was to have an apprentice chosen by the Council to ensure a continuity of community life. Ban had been silent when he read that too.

“Rule number one. The law of the trade is silence.” Ban calls over his shoulder, hoping Mozey takes a hint.

“Of course. Nature blooms in the quiet, for every sound is vital, to life, health, survival and food. Page 2. I did read it. But I also had some questions. Because nature can be loud. I hear the river from my bed up the hill…and the birds and the animals. Or just thunder. Thunder is loud.”

Obviously, Razar would send Ban a boy who didn’t value the quiet. And Mozey was loud. His footfalls could be heard from miles off by a trained ear. His breathing was a siren. His hands were busy living trails as they pushed and broke, rose and fell. And that was all before he was talking, before they were in the thick of the forest where the leaves and branches were thicker and one sound was the difference between life and death.

Ban steps to the side and sticks out his leg. Mozey is not attentive enough and trips over. His pack clangs as it falls. It sounds like pots and pans. 

“Lose the pack. Too noisy.” Ban says and walks his way.

Mozey doesn’t lose the pack and Ban can hear every twist and turn as he gets up and starts walking, then running, to catch up with him. This boy was going to get them killed. Even worse, would lose Ban his catch and Ban was not a failure. 

He sticks out his hand, grabs Mozey by the shirt and sneers, “If I have to tell you again, I’ll cut off one hand as I do it and feed it to the gribbers.” 

Mozey’s small brown eyes roam Ban’s face with a peeking smile as though waiting for Ban to declare he was joking. Ban doesn’t blink, doesn’t back away from the wheezing and absolutely doesn't smile. The boy needs a healthy dose of fear if he is going this deep into the forest.

Mozey falters. 

“Okay,” He puts the pack down, “So what will I need?” He asks as he starts sorting. “Do I need this cup? I need a cup. What happens when we need to drink water? What about these books? This is my star collection. My father gifted it to me when I told him I want to be a tracker. Maps of every known village and I have been hoping to add my own findings to it. And of course, your book. And a few other stories, like ‘Track It Like A Tracker’ by Deuce Kamsi and Tanker’s ‘Trackity Trackety Tracked.’”

Ban walks away as Mozey keeps sorting and muttering to himself.

“...pack of shells from my first trip away from home…Sentimental value…Matches? We need matches. We need a fire. It gets cold at night… need my blanket and change of clothes…be clean and comfy as I work.”

Ban doesn’t look back and walks on till he can only make out a few words.

“...shoes…kettle…nice black tea…warm today…spoon…po…” Ban finally makes it out of range and decides to focus on his job.

The Amber Drubart is a rare find. Nobody has ever seen it and lived to tell the story. It only comes out of hibernation and hiding two nights in a year. Tomorrow night is one of those nights and Ban has every intention to be in position to capture it. Come rain or apprentice!

Mozey lumbers into the clearing in the heart of the forest where Ban is waiting about three hours later. Ban sits still and hopes Mozey will go on through but it’s clear bright moonlight and you’d have to be blind to miss him. 

Mozey’s pudgy face and arms are covered in stings and boils. He also takes a liking to the clearing and sees it for what it’s worth, a bed for the night. He falls backward onto the soft grass and sighs. He turns to the left and sees Ban. 

“You left me,” He accuses. 

Ban shrugs and continues peeling his fruit. Mozey eyes it greedily.

“I take it you didn’t bother to find something for sustenance.” 

“Is that Rule Number 2?” Mozey asks as he falls back.

“No. That’s common sense.” Ban says as he eats up.

Mozey tries for silence as Ban crunches and swallows. He is thirsty and hungry and uncomfortable. Mozey doesn’t do silence well usually but all these factors caused a need to open his mouth.

“Is this the part in the journey where you tell me what we are looking for?” 

Ban doesn’t answer. Mozey sits up criss-cross. 

“It wouldn’t kill you to be friendly, Banura. To share your wisdom with the world for safekeeping. I believe in Razar’s vision, you know, the young and old learning from each other. It may not look like it, sir, but I have things I could teach you too and we need…”

“Like?” Mozey interrupts him.

“Umm…uhh…like. Like how to make a fire,” Mozey says as he gets up, “you need twigs, dry twigs, some leaves, stones if you don’t have matches.” Mozey says all these things as he picks them out, “It’s all about the power of friction.”

“Fire will get us killed.” Ban says matter of factly as he chews on another fruit. “You don’t see any other creature here setting up a fire, do you? We don’t need to announce our arrival.”

Mozey doesn’t listen and Ban starts to pick on the pattern.

Mozey’s stomach growls and he side-eyes Ban. Ban pretends not to notice. 

“It’s been quite a day, Banura. I’ve had the worst experience so far but I’m still eager to learn whatever I can. Throw your worst at me” He announces as he organizes his firestarters, “When you left me, when I realized I couldn’t see you…I thought I was going to die. I thought about quitting, too. But Mama said I’m tougher than most people take me for and I wanted to prove her right. I’m tired of being a disappointment. This is my fourth apprenticeship, if you must know. For some reason, they all haven’t been working out for me.” 

Mozey’s stomach growls again and he clutches it. He looks to Ban again.

“You could…” He rephrases, “Could you please give me some fruit?”

Ban shakes his head. 

“Considering that you can’t be quiet before you have something to chew, I won’t risk it.” 

Mozey goes back to making the fire they told him not to bother with.

Ban hears the forest wake up and come for them before Mozey does. Everything in him, and in nature, stands at attention. Something is making a move. 

He steps into the shadows and prepares.

He urges Mozey to hush but Mozey is not having that and Ban decides to use him as bait. 

From the wind and sound, it must be a hilbreed. There are not many of them down these parts during this time of year. The change in temperatures urges them to move North but some are strays, thrown out of the family or unable to keep up with them. 

Ban hadn’t expected them either and hadn’t carried his scythe. In fact, his satchel carried little more than ointments and medicines, little bait and trappings, warm half cakes, three short knives and an extra shirt. A man does not need to look like his trouble. Besides, he had been told that the drubart was not a very large creature but could still cause irrevocable damage. 

The hilbreed is charging and Ban is surprised that Mozey is content to keep up with his work. A full-grown hilbreed can, upon impact, crush a few bones easily. Its curved ragged horns and razor-sharp teeth can tear the body to pieces. You would want to avoid looking directly into its eyes because those can stun you where you stand and then it would take its time. There was nothing like a quick death with a hilbreed. 

This wasn’t a fight he needed to get into. The only answer was to run but the hilbreed was upon them in no time. 

He only has time to whisper 'Hide', which Mozey doesn't hear. And when he turns to ask for clarity, the creature leaps on him. His scream pierces the still of the night. 

Ban rolls across the ground to push Mozey out of the way as he kicks the creature's underside. He knows it will anger it even more but he needs to risk it. His move is not as timely as he expected, the hilbreed has already sunk its teeth into the boy's shoulder. It's hard to assess the extent of the damage under moonlight but hilbreeds are not known for their mercy. Mozey starts crying and becomes a nuisance in the fight. 

Ban curses out and tosses the boy to the side. 

"Keep your eyes closed." He tells Mozey. 

"I read the book too," the boy coughs out. 

Ban rolls his eyes and then goes for his blind dance with the hilbreed. He can feel it move and weave around him, as he dances around its attacks, hoping for one shot at its mid back where its heart is. 

It grazes his legs with a horn and then Ban is dragging it along the floor with him, slashing blindly at whichever flesh he can feel. He hears the blood gush out and the animal wince with pain. It jumps out of reach and Ban rolls out of the way before it strikes again. 

It lunges and gets its horns stuck in the soft land, giving Ban an opening to get to its back. He miscalculates its body length and strikes the behind. It kicks him in the gut with its hind feet. 

Ban staggers back and then Mozey starts making noise, toying with the creature. In Mozey's head, it seems like he's helping but Ban knows he is not. Nature is more intelligent than humans take it for and a hilbreed was not going to forgive the abuse Mozey was spouting. 

Ban feels it move for Mozey and he dares to open his eyes. The moonlight is blinding after the darkness. He assesses the situation and closes his eyes. Running to the noise before the creature, he slams Mozey hard enough to knock him out. He doesn't need that extra trouble while hustling for his life. 

The hilbreed hits his back where he still kneels before Mozey's body. Apprentices are distractions! He sucks in at the pain and annoyance. Ban swears to himself that Razar would get a report from this. And if he ever sends another useless child, he will pay for it with blood. 

The hilbreed sensing his discomfort and poor focus moves back to charge for one final attack. Ban hears it all. The swish of the grass as the creature bounds backward, the panting as it zeroes in on its prey, the rush and strength in its legs as it purposes to run forward. 

Ban changes his stance where he stands and breathes in to calm and orient himself. 

When it comes to killing, it's all about the timing. Ban needs to time his turn to a T, earlier and he will keep on with this fight, later and he will be in the afterlife. 

He keeps his eyes closed and focuses solely on the movement of the hilbreed. It rushes for him. With its horns a few millimeters away, Ban steps to the side and digs his knife in the body and drags it all the way from the neck to the back. 

The creature lets out a moan and Ban thinks this must be it. He knows that it has been losing a lot of blood throughout the fight. It turns and makes two jumps before it slumps to the ground. 

"You killed it." The first thing Mozey says when he wakes. His voice had lost that youthful excitement. Coming face to face with death could do that to anyone.

His eyes are trained on the ashes marking the hilbreed corpse. Hilbreed corpses burn out at the first hint of sunlight. There was no time for Mozey to see his first tracker kill experience since he slept throughout the best parts. Ban fixed his shoulder as best as he could and the boy slept on through it all. 

"Get up, we are going back to the village," Ban says as he picks up his belongings. 

"What about the king's orders?" he asks as he scrambles to get up. 

Ban doesn't dignify that stupid question with an answer. Ban hopes Mozey is wise enough to stay quiet this time and follow orders. As they march back, it seems like he might. 

But Mozey's sobriety lasts only twenty minutes and then he's back to his chatter. 

"Are we heading back because you were scared of the hilbreed? But a Hilbreed!? Incredible. Isn't it? Especially for this time of year. I can't believe I survived its attack too," he says as he rolls out his shoulder, testing the injury. 

"My first scar. It's going to charm all the village girls," he giggles to himself. "Say, Banura, do you have a lady?" 

He soldiers on as though Ban has not just ignored him. 

"Aside from the unexpected hilbreed. I would say this was a successful trip. I think I have got the hang of tracking. I look forward to more of these. Yes, Banura?" He bumps Ban on the shoulder and looks at him with smiling eyes. 

Ban rounds up on him. "You want an answer?! Think on this. You don't have what it takes to be a tracker. I'll say it again. You don't have what it takes to be a tracker. Sit back and enjoy reading about it because you are useless out here. You do not heed advise and information. You do not listen. Listen! It's all there is to being a tracker - listening. You probably never hear yourself either. You are a liability, compromising my mission of a lifetime. You are the reason Razar is going to continue getting complaints about his apprenticeship program. Once we get back, forget you knew me. It's clear I work better alone. How's that for wise old wisdom?"

Mozey's face falls. He swallows, stunned speechless for once. His stomach roars in the silence. 

Ban walks back and this time Mozey follows in utter silence. 

Ban still desires to be the tracker that sees the Amber Drugart and lives to tell about it. So, he knows that he will have to return another time. After he has made it abundantly clear to Razar that he doesn’t need another apprentice. 

They can all teach themselves like he did. Fight with a bull and sneak with a raskant. The scars and experiences would teach them better than he could.