The Sky People Read online

  THE SKY PEOPLE

  Terry Goodkind

  Start Reading

  About this Book

  About the Author

  Table of Contents

  www.headofzeus.com

  About THE SKY PEOPLE

  Raging River, priestess of the Sun People, has just done the unthinkable.

  The Sun People are bound by an ancient law, left by the long-vanished Sky People: they must never kill. To other tribes, who have no such law, the Sun People are easy prey who will not defend themselves. Their game is poached, their stores raided, their women abducted, their men killed for sport.

  But when Raging River and her sister are attacked by a Wolf People raiding party, River fights back and kills one of the warriors. Worse, she has killed the son of their chief.

  Now, with the Wolf People vowing revenge and her people facing annihilation, River must do the impossible. She must prove herself as priestess. She must find the mythical Sky people.

  Contents

  Welcome Page

  About The Sky People

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About Terry Goodkind

  The Angela Constantine Series

  The Sister of Darkness Series

  The Sword of Truth Series

  Also by Terry Goodkind

  An Invitation from the Publisher

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  A big hand thrust up out of the tall grass behind her and snatched Raging River’s little sister by her arm. Morning Flower screamed. She was yanked from her feet so hard she lost a buckskin shoe. Before River could try to grab hold of her, Flower had been lifted, kicking and shrieking, and pulled back out of reach by a man with a frightening mask. At the same time, more than a dozen painted men from a war party rose up from the tall grass all around.

  They were surrounded by Wolf People warriors.

  As she was turning back, River shrugged the strap of the game bag off her shoulder, letting it drop to the ground. Hot anger took the place of icy fear. Fast as she could, River pulled her bow off her other shoulder and nocked an arrow, even though she knew that what she was about to do was wrong.

  These men were all big and powerful. All were painted in the same way, with stripes around the bulging muscles of their arms. Their jaws were painted black. They all glared out from angled white lines. Blood-red war paint covered their cheeks. Grass tied to their arms and at the backs of their heads had helped conceal them in the tall grass for an ambush.

  Only the man who had grabbed Flower wore a mask. That terrifying carved mask had a hooked, black beak. It marked him as Great Hawk, the son of their chief. Being the son of a chief, he had the privilege of being the one to take a captive.

  As one of the men rushed forward and lunged for her, his arm extended, River fired the arrow.

  Because of his experience in battle, he twisted at the last instant so that, while the arrow pierced his chest, it hit above his left lung, missing a vital spot. He recoiled in surprise at being shot with an arrow as she whipped another from the buckskin quiver over the back of her right shoulder. She nocked the second arrow.

  “No!” Flower screamed as she was being carried away in the arms of Great Hawk. “River, no!”

  As terrified as she was of being taken, Flower was more afraid of River violating one of the most sacred laws of their people, a law that had been drilled into them since birth. That law was central to everything in her people’s lives.

  At that moment, those laws meant nothing to River. She wanted only to protect her little sister.

  “Run!” Flower screamed.

  River understood. Her sister, as young as she was, didn’t want River to let the men capture her too. She knew River had a chance to help her only if she got away and went for help.

  River’s aim tracked the man who had her sister.

  String to her cheek, heart filled with rage, River paused her breath. Her mind went still and silent. Nothing around her mattered anymore. Like the breath of a whisper, she released the taut bowstring. The arrow flew past Flower’s head as the powerful Great Hawk held her tight against his chest.

  The razor-sharp arrowhead pierced the side of his throat, ripping flesh and the big artery as it flew clear through. He staggered back three steps as gouts of blood sprayed from the wound. River’s aim had been true.

  As he collapsed, he lost his grip on Flower. The man beside him hooked her with an arm as she tried to escape. After a brief look at the son of their chief and seeing that nothing could be done for him, the man dragged Flower away.

  Before River could get another arrow, a big warrior, the grass tied to his arms and head waving like a monster’s hair, rushed her. River ducked aside just in time as he leaped to catch her in his arms. He missed, landing face first with a grunt at her feet. Rather than go for another arrow, River pulled a knife from the sheath at her waist, intending in her rage to stab him before he could get up, but Flower screamed again.

  “Run, River! Tell Father! Run!”

  If River didn’t escape, her family would never know what had happened to them. They would never know that it had been a war party of Wolf People.

  Hating the thought of leaving her defenseless little sister, River knew in that instant that Flower was right.

  Dodging first to one side, then to the other to avoid arms reaching for her, River bolted away. As her long legs carried her past the chief’s son lying dead in the grass, she reached down and stripped the mask from his face.

  Most of the dozen men followed. She knew what they wanted. The Wolf People stole women from other tribes as slave wives. Morning Flower, named because she had been born at dawn, was too young and innocent to truly grasp the intent of these men.

  River knew in her heart that if she wanted to have any hope of rescuing Flower, fighting these strong warriors was not the way. Alone, she had no chance against all of them. As difficult as it was to leave Flower, the way to help her was to escape and get back to her own people and try to get help. She had to tell her father. She had to tell their shaman, White Crow. She had to let them know that the Wolf People had taken Morning Flower. She had to convince them, this time, to act.

  Raging River, the mask tucked in her belt and her bow back over her shoulder, ran with all her strength. Her powerful legs gradually took her out of reach of the men. Even though she was out of reach, they were close behind and they weren’t going to stop. Wolf People warriors were said to be able to run all day without slowing. River didn’t know if that was true, but the men, having lost precious little ground, were still coming.

  She could hear them close behind her, whooping battle cries. She knew that if they caught her there would be no hope for her or Flower. No one would ever know what had happened to them. No one would ever try to rescue them.

  River had never heard of anyone escaping the Wolf People. She had heard that men who were captured were tortured for days and then staked to the ground still alive to let wild animals feed on them. The women were usually not killed, but River had heard tales that they all wished to trade places with the men staked to the ground. Whether man or woman, to be captured by the Wolf People was
a terrifying fate.

  River could hear the men’s feet thumping the soft ground as they ran. It was a frightening sound, knowing they were that close. Her breaths came fast and ragged. They all still had enough breath for bloodcurdling howls. Even though her legs were beginning to ache, she knew that there could be no stopping if she had any hope to escape. Better to have her heart give out at a dead run than to fall into their hands.

  Running with at least a dozen men in close pursuit, she finally left the flat grassland and entered the hill country. As she ran up slopes, her lungs burning, the hills became more tightly dotted with scrub trees, and then with bigger trees. As she ran, getting ever closer to her own people, to her home, she began to worry that this war party would follow her right into her village. If they did, her people might overpower them, but not before they slaughtered many.

  She dismissed that much of her worry. She had heard stories of the Wolf People attacking other tribes, but when they did they always used many warriors, enough warriors to overpower any resistance. Though these warriors looked fierce, and they could certainly kill many people, they were smart enough to know they could not take the entire village. They would be overwhelmed by masses of people and whipped with willow switches until driven away, suffering the indignity and pain of countless slashes.

  As the trees grew taller and in greater numbers, she suddenly came upon a deep ravine on a forested hillside that she and Flower had crossed on their way to hunt for game. She was relieved to spot the log across the deep cut through the hillside. The dirt sides of the small gorge were steep. If she fell over the edge, she knew it would be a painful but not a fatal fall to the bottom. It would probably be a tumbling slide down to the fast-moving stream. The climb up the other side, up the crumbling dirt while snatching at roots, would not be quick.

  If she took that safer but slower route of a controlled slide down the sharp bank and wading across the stream, the men would catch her as she struggled to climb up the opposite bank. It was a fool’s choice to cross that way.

  River instead danced out across the log, knowing it was her only hope. She knew, too, that if she fell, the men would have her. Not being very thick, the log flexed up and down with her weight, making balance difficult, but she raced onward and in a flash she was safely across.

  She stopped and turned, then, catching her breath, as she saw the men rushing up to the bank on the far side. Even if they didn’t use the log, they could still slide down the steep bank, cross the stream, and then climb up on her side. Crossing that way, they would lose some ground to her, but soon enough they would again be in hot pursuit.

  They were predators running down their prey. They were not going to stop.

  Chapter 2

  River knew she had only one chance.

  Glaring at the men gathered on the opposite bank, she swiftly nocked an arrow.

  “You killed Great Hawk, the son of our chief!” Unlike the others, the man who spoke for them had hawk feathers sticking up from the sides of his headband, marking him as second-in-command to Great Hawk and now their leader. “For this, you will die!”

  “I killed a coward who steals children,” she called back across.

  He shook a war hammer. “You will die for what you have done!”

  “Come on, then,” she called to him. “Do you have courage enough to come across? You say I must die. So come across and get me.”

  She drew the string back to her cheek, causing them to hesitate at the log crossing.

  “The Sun People are sworn never to kill! It is your law! You will run instead like the cowards your people are.”

  “So, you are brave Wolf People?” she taunted. “Come across, then. You have seen with Great Hawk that my aim is true, and I am not afraid to kill. Though I am one of the Sun People, I will not run. Go ahead, come across, and I will pick you off one at a time. Come across and your bodies will rot in the stream below without a proper warrior burial.”

  The leader pointed his war hammer down into the ravine. “We can get across without having to walk the log as you did.”

  “Fine with me,” she yelled back at them. “I can shoot you as you wade the stream or claw your way up the bank. It will be like shooting fish in a pool. Come on, then, if you are brave enough.”

  Angry at being held at bay by a mere woman, they withdrew a short distance to cluster in a tight group and argue about what to do.

  “You will run out of arrows,” the leader called across once the bunch of them broke up from their strategizing. “Once you run out, the rest of us will be able to cross and then we will have you!”

  Still holding the string to her cheek, aiming at the man who was talking, she shrugged. “Maybe. We will see. So then, while I still have arrows, which of you wants to be the one to come forward first and die?”

  The leader shook a fist. “We can split up, some crossing to the north, some to the south.”

  “Then go.” Again, she shrugged. “By the time you get back together I will be gone. If you are to catch me, this crossing is your only way. You must hope, though, that I don’t have an arrow for each of you.”

  They weren’t sure she was right, but they were clearly worried that she might be. She knew that time was against her. If some stayed as a threat while some went another way, they could catch her. She needed to keep them from realizing that.

  “Choose then. Who among you will be the first to try to cross? Who among you chooses to be the one to die? Is it you, Ass Feathers? You have a brave tongue. You speak for the others, so you should show them you are the bravest among them by being first to come across. But are you brave enough to be the first to die at the hands of a woman? Come across, then, brave Wolf warrior wearing ass feathers.” She showed them a taunting grin. “Come across.”

  The leader with the tall feathers in his headband shook his war hammer in anger. “You wish to act like a man? We will have you, and when we do you will be treated as we would treat any man we capture. You will wish we had caught you in the beginning along with the other girl. Now, since you pretend to be a brave warrior, that fate is too good for you.”

  Raging River felt tears welling up in her eyes at the thought of those men having her little sister. Flower was not yet of an age to know what men would do to her. Before long she would come to know.

  “Real Wolf People warriors do not waste time with empty words,” she yelled, her anger rising, “Act like real men and decide which of you will be first to die. Come across so I, a mere Sun People woman, may take your lives as easily as I took the life of your chief’s son.”

  The leader threw his war hammer at her in a fit of fury. River ducked to the side as it whistled past her ear. As she swiftly came back up, she loosed her arrow. It caught his arm above his elbow. It was a bird arrow with a sharpened tip rather than an arrowhead like the one that had killed the chief’s son, so it pierced all the way through beside the bone. It stopped with half sticking out on the far side. He cursed her at the top of his lungs.

  River knew that despite her bluster she was in a weak position. While she was holding them off for the moment, she couldn’t turn and run for home. If she did, they would be able to cross on the log and come after her. More determined than ever, they would run her down. She needed to keep them too busy to realize it.

  River would eventually lose the standoff. She needed to think of something fast or she was going to die. She knew that she had only three more arrows left in her quiver.

  One of the men broke off the fletched end of the arrow sticking out the front of his leader’s arm and then gave the part jutting out the back a quick yank to pull what was left the rest of the way through.

  The man with the feathered headband acted as if it didn’t hurt. He gave her a mocking look, letting her know that he was a Wolf warrior and her arrow was nothing to a man like him. She wanted to wipe the smirk from his painted face.

  “You should know,” she yelled across the ravine, “that my arrows have poison on the tips. Yo
u will soon lose your ability to walk, then to stand, and finally you will drop to the ground and die painfully. But know that, although agonizing, your end will at least come quickly.”

  It was a lie, but River needed to break the deadlock. She had to give them cause to worry.

  “You lie!” the wounded leader called out. “Your arrows are for hunting game. You are not a warrior. That was a bird arrow. Your arrows have no poison.”

  “My people are hungry. I do not want to risk losing valuable meat. My turkey arrows are poisoned so that even if it is not a quick kill, when the wounded turkey takes flight I can follow until it falls dead.” She knew they would be sweating from running so hard. “Feel your flesh. By now the poison has reached your heart. You will already have a fever. You will fall dead before you can get back to your people.”

  One of the men inspected the wound in his leader’s arm. Another sniffed the bloody arrowhead and carefully touched the tip with the end of his tongue. Another man leaned in and sucked blood from the arrow wound, as if sucking the poison from a snakebite. He spat out what he tasted, did it several more times, and then waved his arms as he gestured hastily to the wounded man.

  They argued among themselves in voices too low for her to hear. But she could hear the anger in their words. She could also hear the worry.

  Finally, they all took off at a trot, back the way they had come.

  River stood her ground, bowstring drawn, until they vanished into the distance. Even though she had won a small battle, they still had her little sister.

  River wiped tears from her cheeks as she turned and started running for home.

  Chapter 3

  River trotted into her village, exhausted and out of breath. She could hardly put one foot in front of another. Her legs burned. Her lungs burned. Her heart burned for Flower.

  As she passed through long shadows in the narrow passages among the mud brick buildings and entered the larger square in the center of her village, chickens scattered out of her way, flapping their wings and squawking in alarm. The village dogs ran up to greet her wagging their skinny tails as they surrounded her, hoping she had some bit of food for them. She patted a few on the shoulder as she pushed through them. Big Dog charged his way through to her side.