Free Sunlord by Ronan Frost

slung over the other. "We have to go now. I want to get
as far as possible before the day is out."
    They all moved to Capac's command. Huso took the
lead, his axe over one shoulder. Next was the female Myshia who, as
she passed, threw an imperious scathing look at the Currach who had
insulted her. Capac bade the Elder farewell.
    "This deed shall be long remembered," he said.
    The Elder nodded. "Legends will be made of your
journey Capac. You are a brave hunter."
    Capac's shoulders squared proudly. Without turning
back he made off after Huso and Myshia.
    Ashian motioned goodbye to the Elder. "I know many of
your tribe are against the Currach, but I hope our success will
change their hearts."
    "May the forest spirits be with you," called the
Elder after him.
    Ashian smiled slightly. "My Religion will give me
strength, wise one. Someday I will return to learn your teachings.
Maybe the rift between our races can be fused."
    "I look forward to it. But go now!"
    Ashian turned and had to jog to catch up to the rest
of his fellows. The rifle at Capac's side caught his attention, and
to Ashian's eye every ounce seemed to represent a pound of dead and
bloody flesh. The evil weapon of killing weighed heavily upon his
mind and invaded his thoughts.
    Stepping through the cold mists and towering trees
Ashian felt a surge of adrenalin.
    They were away!

    * * *
     
    Deep in another part of the huge jungle a dirty
huddled form clothed in stinking, half cured furs sobbed wild cries
of desperation into the towering impassive trees.
    Shata-Bera looked deeply into K'iop's eyes as slowly
the life died from the old Currach's body.
    "Don't die K'iop," moaned Shata, facetted eyes
burning with torment. Shata's face was a mass of ugly scars and
welts were the fire had scorched and blackened his flesh. These old
partially healed wounds covered one eye completely and distorted
the right side of his face, the young Currach's now bald head
strangely altered to look almost alien. His body had never fully
recovered and he walked with a slight limp and was unable to move
the clawed fingers of his right hand.
    Shata reached out and cradled the head of the Currach
who had saved his life that time many moons ago when the Sunlords
had attacked his band of rebels. K'iop had nursed Shata through the
terrible tortuous period after his burning, soothing the blisters
with a mixture of roots and resins to ease the pain. For many days
Shata had been delirious in agony, every movement sparking a
tearing wave of pain. Even the act of breathing stretched and broke
the skin, exposing raw flesh. He had been lucky to escape without
infection, and without K'iop's help would certainly never have made
it.
    In the weeks that past since K'iop taught Shata how
to survive in the forest. The old Currach taught Shata all he knew,
and now Shata, once a city clergyman, lived off the forest like a
native Eloprin hunter.
    A close friendship had formed between the two
Currach, a bond that gave each courage in face of their
predicament. Here in the wild jungles they not only gathered food
but hunted Sunlords.
    They had found an abandoned Sunlord camp and had
raided what seemed useful. A laser rifle lay among the debris, its
barrel twisted and battered and its surface marred with deep
scratches where a cartridge had backfired. Together they had
managed to operate the weapon and Shata had become a proficient
sharpshooter.
    They mounted several attacks against the Sunlords,
most failing due to mishaps and malfunctions of the shonky laser
rifle, meaning they had to retreat as fast as possible. But on two
occasions they had managed to take out a Sunlord, a small victory
against an all-powerful enemy.
    Shata's terrible wounds had barely covered over when
K'iop fell to a virus. They had been gathering roots in the
swamplands when a large insect had stung the old Currach, and the
strange poison acted quickly to reduce K'iop into almost total
incapacity within hours. As the large orange sun was