The Lust of Horns

EROH IV

"Do not fire with haste, My Son. Be patient. Be ready. And when it draws closer, fire!"

His words gave me a second wind. I kept steady, aiming. Today is the day you become a man, I thought. Try not to miss!

"Don't let her size or beauty distract you. The downfall of most boys is their failure to see beyond such things," father whispered. I raised an eyebrow, uncertain what he meant by that. The pressure of his pride weighed down upon me. "You're the blood of my blood. I know you won't allow yourself to fail."

I nodded, searched until I found bubbles popping. It's attacking the surface. In an elegant swing, I'd brought the arrowhead to the disturbance. Hands throbbing. Arms aching. Legs shaking. I ignored my body's warnings and focused.

Several feet below, a silhouette moved with snake-like elegance, three feet in a second until it breached the surface. There was no splash. Not even a ripple. I must've grown weary or my eyes were playing tricks on me. It was not a monster at all, but a girl my age. She had the beauty of the ocean. Her eyes were a shallow blue, hair golden, and skin white as coconut. The wind brought her oceanic scent to my nostrils. She looked upon me with innocent wonder. The same innocent wonder that masked my face. And drowned in the swirl of her eyes.

"Shoot, Son, shoot!"

Father's booming tone startled me. The bowstring thrummed, and the arrow whistled, set on an arch to impale my target. I held my breath. The girl's eyes widened in terror. It relieved me when the arrow zipped past her head, disappearing into the blue.

"I missed ..."

Beside me, the rope uncoiled until it snapped taut.

"You didn't miss," my father pointed, "you struck another."

I followed his finger where the blue became a thick crimson. Winded, I saw the girl's shocked, saddened look, and it cut me to my core. She dove under. Father grabbed the wheel of the enormous reel and gave a turn, chuckling.

"You've got one! Let's get her to the dock!"

Enoch locked his body and pushed his weight through his legs and feet. He heaved one long pull after the other. The cedar wheel shrieked like loose floorboards as the wheel spun. The rope retreating from the loch. It normally took three men the size of my father to reel in a sacred creature, but he was like an ox, with the strength of three men, making each heave count.

"Give me a hand!"

I broke my stupor, slipping my bow over my shoulder, then took off towards the reel. I grabbed the second wheel, and with my weight, I forced myself against the rungs, pushing with all my might, unsure of how much use I really was.

"We must allow her to bleed out or tire out ..." Father grunted, veins bulging around his biceps. "Whichever comes first."

"How does it possess such strength?"

Twenty paces away, the silhouette shot upward, breaking the crest, spinning and twisting in the air, expelling a high-pitched song of sorrow. My eyes grew to moons at her beauty. Beneath her torso were scales that shimmered turquoise with each whip and lash of her tail. She slipped back between the ripple.

"Merfolk, Son. On land, they're no stronger than an infant. But beneath the blue, they can pull a grown man to the very depths of the ocean." Father leaned back, cranking the wheel. A hardened grin on his face. "My boy ... a man. The clan will sleep with their tongues tingling and their bellies full. And it's cause of you, my boy!"

I forced a smile, unable to carry the same enthusiasm as my father.

To keep from tiring, Enoch drove a wedge into the wheel; it locked. We took a step away from the reel, panting, and wiping away sweat from our foreheads and brows. "What a fight, My Boy. These are the days I live for." Father stared off into the horizon, squinting against the sun. "If only there were more of this, and fewer political issues," he muttered.

I wiped sweat then followed my father to the edge of the pier where we sat, allowing our feet to soak. I could taste the salt in the air and smelt the blood that gave riddance to the smell of coconut. Night was almost upon us. How much longer could our hunt last?

"How long, father? How long have you known about these creatures?"

"We've been hunting them for three years now ... mindless beasts, they are. Like the minotaur and Cervitaur we hunt." He rubbed his beard. "Few tribesmen have been able to strike one. Not like you."

"I missed ... I was lucky there was another."

"Nonsense." Father chuckled. "The God's guided your arrow to a greater gift." Enoch reached up and tugged on the rope; it vibrated. "Still alive," He muttered. "Means she's stronger than she looks."

I brushed my light bangs from my eyes. "It looked like a girl."

Father looked at me curiously. "They do, but they're not. It takes a true man to know the difference."

"I didn't mean to fire." I admitted. "Your voice startled me and the arrow went rogue. If the God's intervened, it was strictly by their choice and not the choice of my own."

Father chuckled, nodding in agreement. "The God's do questionable things, which you will learn one day. This is not one to question. This is one to be thankful for." He placed his heavy hand on my shoulder, patting with a strange softness that most men of his size do not wield. "You will be chief one day - the God's want our people to see you as I see you - a man with them on your side."

I wanted to protest. To tell my father that this was not the act of the God's, but of blind luck. Though the words never formed on my tongue.

Enoch tugged on the rope once more and brightened. "Come. She's grown weary."

We rose from our perch. My gut twisted and for a moment I fought back the urge to vomit. Father and I returned to the reel, and began again. This time there was less fight in the creature.

"We've got her now."

After twenty minutes of tugging, and a short struggle, we brought the merfolk onto the dock. Blood slipped through the wood, coloring the pools below. She cried out in a high, ear-piercing pitch. Tears spilling down her cheek.

My heart pained watching her struggle with each breath. The arrow had stuck below the lungs. Not a killing blow, but enough to leave her severely wounded. If it had struck the heart, she would've drowned and sunk to the bottom. The once beautiful creature was now a mess of flesh, scales, and blood ... and I was at fault.

"Put her under," father said, prodding Finbane into my hand. I flinched. "Hit her once and hit her quick, or you'll only give her more pain."

I took the club, feeling its weight pull towards the docks. It was a virgin weapon, ready to make its first kill. I squeezed the wood, looking at the Mer. Around her neck, blue aquatic jewels blinded me. I shook my head, finding her eyes. She was not much different from I was; a young Mer, likely hunting for her own food, and trying to survive.

"I don't think I can do it."

"You must! In life you must make hard decisions; right or wrong, you must stand by those decisions, even when they haunt you." Father looked upon the fish. "She will die ... but you can ease her suffering. The way she leaves this world is your choice to make ... And yours alone."

I swallowed, then closed my eyes, feeling my body tremble. With the last bit of courage, and last of my might, I lifted the club above my head. It sat suspended in the air, while I found the girl's blue eyes once more. They were beautiful. She was beautiful. An innocent beauty with so much left to give in this cruel world.

I took a breath, bit my lip, then screamed as I brought the club down with force.