The King's Touch

Agnes Hawkins peered out into the stables from the comfort of the aged cabin. The ghastly sight of their livestock chilled her. A wave of lethargy had consumed them. Bones protruded from their hides, guaranteeing death will take them soon. With the rapid approach of summer, Mrs. Hawkins silently doubted if luck would ever shine on her household again.

“Agnes?” Onatah’s gentle voice brought her back to the present.

She did not bother to mask her aloofness.

“I asked if there’s anything else we can bring you.” Onatah said, placing freshly picked herbs on the dining table.

“No.” Agnes replied with glassy, reddened eyes, “No. That will be fine. Thank you.”

“Okay.” Onatah said, “Isaac and Tala will be back soon. They’ll provide what they can when they return.”

Agnes nodded. Onatah called out to her two children who were too young to join the hunt. They tagged along behind their patient mother, and they traveled back to their home.

“Tala.” Isaac broke the silence as they approached the edge of the meadows.

She shot an annoyed look at her father.

“You’ve ‘forgotten’ your gun yet again.” he said as he rode past her on his painted horse.

“Pa.” she responded in an irate tone, “You know I have a preference to-”

He halted his steed, “The bow and arrow, yes. But you must-”

“Pa.” Tala attempted to interject, yet he continued.

“-learn to wield something more powerful.”

She sighed, “A more powerful weapon?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds like thunder each time it is fired? How can we hunt when we alert all the animals, even enemies, to our whereabouts?”

“Don’t miss.” Isaac retorted, and headed into the foreboding forest.

Tala scowled, and reluctantly clicked her heels into the sides of her ashen horse.

“I know you feel a connection with your bow. But we need efficiency now. We aren’t just hunting for ourselves anymore.”

She stayed silent.

Handing her his rifle he said, “Here. I want you to take the lead on this.”

Concern crawled across her face.

“Don’t worry. We are secluded from the rest of the civilized world.”

Mounting the gun to her saddle bag, she mumbled under her breath, “That’s why I worry.”

He disregarded her comment, and continued to lead the way. Her mind wandered as they ventured further into the mass of trees. She recalled near the end of fall the return of Simon Hawkins from New England. And with him arrived a plague that rode on the backs of windborne devils.

Tala could not recall this region of the mountains having such an infestation of bats before. Their shrieks burrowed deep into her ears.

“It was terrible. That town just ain’t flourishin’ anymore.” His voice echoed in her mind, “Some kind o’ disease has gotten a hold o’ every one o’ them it seems.”

Simon’s return to the Hawkins’ ranch was met with a small celebration. What was usually a joyous occasion was met with fear and speculation. He scarfed down his supper. His frail physique caused great concern for Agnes, who pestered him with repetitive questions.

“And you’re sure that you’re feeling fine?” she asked as she grabbed his bowl.

“Yes. I told you that I kept my distance.”

She glared at him from their shabby kitchen, “I’m not so sure if that was enough.”

“I’ve already told you many times, and I’m telling you again, I’m fine!” he argued, “I just haven’t had a good meal in awhile is all.”

Tala’s gaze gravitated to Simon’s. The slight discoloration in his eyes told her otherwise.

“Well, I wish you would’ve come home sooner then.” she replied as she dumped more stew into his bowl, “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

The Caldwell family shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Onatah cleared her throat and steered the conversation, “We are glad to have you back, Simon. Much has happened in your-”

“Tala!” Isaac called out.

He motioned for his daughter to pause and listen. A faint yet garbled, animalistic cry emerged from the distance.

"What was that?" Tala asked with a bewildered look.

"I'm not sure, but it sounds wounded." Isaac replied, focusing his gaze on the muddied ground, "There."

He pointed to a pair of deer tracks leading them further into the darkness. As they followed, they noted the hooved markings appeared more sporadically, as if the animal were in a drunken stupor.

Tala shuddered from the poor creature's wailing. Her mind raced over the strangeness of it all.

If it was attacked, where is its pursuer?

The lament continued.

Perhaps it is just an injured deer? Maybe it was never hunted in the first place; now we listen to its last cries.

No matter how she turned the idea over in her head, her nerves continued to dwindle.

The path dipped down into a shallow creek. Beyond the rushing waters hidden in the brush, an emaciated body of a stag greeted them. Bones distended from its dull, motionless hide. Flesh curled back from its snout, exposing stained, cracked teeth.

"This one has been gone for awhile. I don't think the sounds came from him." said Isaac.

Filled with curiosity, Tala dismounted from her horse and approached the body. She gasped. Its sunken, discolored eyes followed her and cried out once more. They looked on in astonishment; despite its state the creature still clung onto life!

"Tala." her father broke the eerie silence.

She turned to Isaac, who held the rifle in his hands. Her jaw clenched as she shook her head.

"Please." he stepped forth.

She distanced herself from the weapon, "Pa, you know I don't-"

"I know. But you'll need to be well acquainted with this. And there's no other time like the present." he extended the rifle to her, "Please."

She sighed, snatched the gun from him, and pressed the worn wooden stock against her shoulder. She wrapped her finger around the trigger. It felt foreign to her. Tala struggled to steady her hands.

Watching her unease, Isaac strode over and offered tips to allow for an accurate shot. After a moment, her breathing slowed and she braced herself for the final step. She peered into the milky-hued eyes of the stag once more.

-BANG-

A frenzy of bats blackened the sky. Tala and Isaac ventured forth in search of a fresh kill.