Jilid Short Story Page Two

“Try to laugh a bit,” Shelsa whispered quietly to him. She let him lead her deeper into the field, toward a tunnel that led to another great underground expanse. They were quiet as they always were together, never speaking but always knowing. They never needed to say they loved each other, they always knew it.

As they walked further away from the others, one of Hargor’s long time friends, Keswyn, sprung from the ground where he had been napping. He was not in powered armour like his comrade, as he had never joined the Growar military, but he clasped an immolation energy rifle nonetheless. The technology was Growar, given freely, but to be used in the Jilid fashion.

Keswyn often boasted about his high stature as Jilid warrior but for Shelsa, Hargor was no less Jilid when he said the vows than when he did not. The Growar never took him away to some far off land to be distant from family, or teach him things undesirable amongst the nomadic Jilid. Shelsa could picture the Growar only as she pictured Hargor, a strong man who could force a boar to the ground with his bare hands, but gentle to everything and everyone.

“Hey, wait!” Keswyn shouted, hefting his spear in one hand. “You can’t leave me with Jilsian alone!”

Shelsa snickered at him. He could not understand why Keswyn, after all these years after Jilsian had been born, was incapable of dealing with a little girl’s whims and tantrums. The sound of a little girl crying may have been a stampede of buffalo to him. “You’ll survive. We won’t be gone long.”

“She’s quieter when you’re around,” Keswyn complained. “Besides, I saw a few trees back there. It’s dark, it’s concealed. She won’t see!”

The man sounded not unlike a little boy to Shelsa. “A warrior as mighty as you should be able to cope with a little girl of Jilsian. She had only become a woman three years ago.”

“A warrior,” Keswyn said, lifting his chest proudly to defend himself against Shelsa’s insults, “is no parent. I chase down dangerous boars, I hunt with dogs, I tend to the lizards.”

“Run,” Hargor suddenly said, standing between her and Keswyn. He struck down his legs into the grass as if to make a stand. Shelsa could see a sculptured masterpiece before her of man, love and even Hargor’s well concealed sense of humour. She turned and ran through the grass laughing as Keswyn was held back by arms as thick as tree trunks.

“That isn’t fair! He’s got powered armour!” Keswyn shouted out. The voice dwindled as she became breathless, having run so far. The tunnel entrance was now only a short stone’s throw away.