Tales from Brushfire – The Hunter and The Thief of the Night – Part 4
10th of June, 1821
Ruins of Pacari City, South Vespuccia
“I swear, I didn’t hear a thing!” Enrico was covered in blood after rising from Giovanni’s body. He did not make eye contact with any of us, focusing his attention instead on the tree line and began darting back and forth. Antonio was still on his knees next to Giovanni’s body, they’d been squadmates for half a decade, he refused to admit to Giovanni’s death, attempting to shake the lifeless body into consciousness.
“Enrico!” I attempted to grab his shoulder and he spun on me attempting to confront my accusations. He stared into my eyes, furious; with the killer, the situation, and most of all, himself. I could tell there was little reasoning with him.
He shook off my grip and bounded off into the jungle, likely to try and pick up a trail. In the meantime I turned my attention to Ant and Gio. With only a slight motion to Chequal, Antonio was pulled away from the body, he was too shocked to react with any resistance. I adjusted the tattered remains of Giovanni’s bedroll to cover him. The giant Capybara sat the surviving chipmunk next to the dwindling campfire, like a mother nursing a child before stepping away to join me in discussion. “It came right into the camp, Sardan Commandos are notorious hunters and trackers, nothing gets by them…nothing SHOULD get by them.” He shifted a bit, glancing at the Jaguero ruins around us.
The people of Sardus hunted, camped, and survived large predators for centuries before their induction into the Civitan city-states. In addition to his own record, no assailant should have gotten past Enrico as he guarded our camp the previous night, and yet, Giovanni lay dead in his bedroll, pierced by a dozen dagger-like blows.
Our hunter was in the area, the Pacari ruins were the right lead, but with the mortar at half crew, taking up a hard position to defend against the killer would be difficult, we would have to move to more open ground keep a healthy distance between us and the treeline. The jungle brush would provide cover for any additional attacks it might attempt during the day. I pushed away the thought that it could just wait for nightfall to strike again. If I had any say, we would not be staying another night in this dead city.
“I-I.. refuse to believe its… Supay, come from Uku Pacha.” Chequal stuttered, obviously not believing himself over the last words of the elderly capybara. That brought to mind our thief, this close to their ‘home’ the hunter and the thief did not work in tandem? My mind raced with questions. Were they rivals? Did the thief reside elsewhere? I quickly drowned my own thoughts by focusing on Chequal’s resurging faith.
“They are simply feral creatures we have never seen before.” I reached up as best i could to grab Chequal’s face, forcing him to focus on my words and my eyes. I repeated what I had said slowly. Chequal’s increasing panic lessened. I released him, wondering how long he would keep his composure.
I looked back into the ruins. The Jaguero God of Death, come to punish the betrayers? Some Capybara had come to the conclusion that everything awful that happened in New Muriccio was due to their ‘betrayal’ of the Jaguar’s Empire. Mythical Jaguero heroes and demons had been coming out of the woodwork for nearly two centuries. Civitan weapons had felled every one of them.
Enrico made a full pass crossing into the courtyard of the ruins, he slowed and twitched his nose for nearly a minute, slowly searching around the overgrown fountain. Finally he motioned to us and gave a soft whistle, indistinguishable from a bird call. I turned to see Antonio collecting the explosives from Giovanni’s bag and placing them carefully and purposefully into his satchel he followed this up by . He did not raise his head, focusing on his feet and each step he made. I logged away the possibility of him becoming a liability. His face was nigh emotionless, closer to soulless, but we did not have time to worry over his mental state.
One of the Riflemice was already clomping over to Enrico and announced rather loudly “The Sardan’s found something!” The rest of the group cringed, waiting to hear any reaction from the forest. The other slapped him over the head and brought a finger to up to the helmet’s faceguard, indicating silence would be preferable.
The courtyard in which we stood was vaguely reminiscent of the one in which the Governor had spoken his message of doom. New Muriccio had been built upon the ruins of a port town, unused by the Jaguero Empire for nearly a century before Civitans landed in the new world. This courtyard was of much higher quality, or at least it had been before its abandonment. Roots and vines snaked across the yellow brickwork cracking some pieces and upending others. In the center was a large fountain, which, in centuries past, must have been beautiful as water flowed down into the pool below. Now, the water no longer flowed, instead a sickening pool stagnated, with algae floating on the surface and running down the walls of the…extremely deep pool.
I motioned to each of the others to fan out and take up positions near entrances to the courtyard. The interior of the fountain was polished gold. My mind did not have time to wonder why only the interior was gold for I quickly lay eyes upon the organic mass at the bottom.
“Spawning pools.” Enrico nodded almost in agreement. “The eggs seem to have died, perhaps this was not a ideal place for a hatchery.”
“These are not like amphibian brood clusters. Dart Frogs keep to the pools near rivers, and they don’t fit what we already know.” I pointed out. We were facing a new species, or an old one if Pizzaro was to be believed.
Our discussion was interrupted by a shudder of the ground. Dust shot up along the stonework and patches of brick sunk into the ground, some a few inches, others into the darkness below our feet. I followed the disturbance with my eyes as it darted around the area. “Be careful, we could drop into a chasm if we put too much weight on the weakened stone!” My advice would not help the two Riflemice, they had ‘spread out’ by standing next to each other on the stairs up into the city proper. The collapsing ground raced towards them and their weight forced the brickwork to give to them. A short pair of yelps was cut off by their fall into the caverns below us.
To Be Continued…