Anna's heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in the quiet of the night. She stared at Ken, bound and struggling, his eyes wild and full of fury. The reality hit her like a wave—he had come into her hut with intent to harm her.
Her hands were still trembling from reaching for the spear, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Kehnu's calm but firm presence beside her barely registered as she tried to catch her breath.
"It's all your fault we have to work hard now. You got my friend killed too!" Ken spat, his voice raw with rage.
Anna's voice barely whispered, trembling: "What… what did you want to do to me?"
"To kill you! I want to kill you!" he screamed back, thrashing against his bindings.
Kehnu's eyes met hers, steady and unwavering. "Tribal fight in the morning," he said, his tone flat but full of meaning. "You will rest tonight."
Anna swallowed hard, nodding slightly. She knew what was coming. The tribe would not let this act go unchecked. Unlike Jack, Ken had been caught sneaking into her hut—an act of blatant aggression. She felt a cold mix of fear and resolve. Whatever came in the morning, she had witnessed the tribe's justice before. This time, it might be even harsher.
As the villagers began murmuring and preparing for the day ahead, Anna sank back, still wide-eyed, knowing sleep would not come easy. The shadows in the hut felt heavier now, and the weight of what was to come pressed down on her shoulders.
As the first light of dawn filtered through the trees, the entire tribe gathered in the open clearing of the village. The air was heavy, damp from the lingering mist of the night, and the smell of earth mixed with smoke from the morning fires. Villagers formed a wide circle, standing silently, their eyes fixed on the center where Ken was brought. His arms were still bound, bruised from the previous night, and his chest heaved as he spat curses that none of the villagers understood.
Anna stood beside Kehnu, holding Kate's hand tightly. Kehnu's expression was calm, his eyes scanning the circle, ensuring that all were in position, and that the rules of justice—tribal justice—would be followed. He leaned close to Anna and whispered, "You tell him. He fights for his life, but even if he survives, he will be expelled into the forest. No more chance here."
Anna took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bound man, her eyes meeting his. "Ken," she said in the tribal tongue she had learned over months, "you will fight for your life. If you survive, you will leave the tribe. No harm here will touch you after that. But you must not attack anyone else."
Ken's face twisted into a snarl, spittle flying as he raged. "I don't care! You… you deserve to die! I'll make sure you see it!" His words were sharp, bitter, and wild. He tried to tug at his bindings, but they held him fast. Anna could see the raw fury in his eyes—the same arrogance and cruelty that had made Jack's attempt so deadly—and she shivered, though she stood her ground.
From the side of the circle, a tribe hunter stepped forward. His build was solid, lean from years of climbing and hunting in the mountains. He bent slightly, circling Ken, reading the man's movements, waiting. The entire village watched, silence hanging thick as mist. Anna felt Kate cling to her, eyes wide, sensing the tension in the air.
Kehnu gave a subtle nod, and the hunter advanced. Ken lunged, wild and unpredictable, fists swinging, spittle flying. The hunter dodged, kept low, moving with precision honed from years in the forest. Ken's first swing barely grazed him, but the hunter responded with a sharp counter—an elbow, a push to destabilize him, a jab that sent him stumbling.
Ken roared and swung again, his fury raw, his desperation spilling out in violent bursts. The hunter anticipated every move, dodging, redirecting, striking when Ken's momentum left him vulnerable. The crowd watched, silent but attentive, understanding every subtle shift of the fight—the circling, the weight distribution, the quick strikes meant to subdue, not to kill… at first.
Minutes stretched as the fight continued, each man testing the other, Ken's rage against the hunter's experience. Sweat dripped into Anna's eyes, her hands gripping Kate's tightly. Every swing, every dodge, made her heart pound. She could see Ken's strength waning. His strikes became sloppy, wild, and the hunter's counters more precise, more punishing.
Then came the moment—a sweep of the hunter's leg, a push, a tackle. Ken hit the ground hard, the earth striking his back with a sickening thud. He rolled, tried to scramble to his feet, but the hunter was already upon him, pinning him down. Ken's hands clawed at the soil, his face streaked with blood, his teeth broken, his jaw bruised. He gurgled words that were half-formed, incoherent, but Anna understood the threat in them.
"You'll… see… you… Anna…" he croaked, blood dripping from his mouth. His strength was fading, and he lay on the ground, gasping and struggling. The hunter kept him pinned, his stance controlled but firm, ensuring Ken could no longer harm anyone.
Anna watched, a chill running down her spine. Ken's rage did not abate, but the fight was over. He could no longer stand, could no longer strike. The silence of the tribe enveloped them as he took his last desperate breaths, and then his body went still. No more struggle, no more threats. The gurgled words stopped. He was dead.
The villagers remained still for a moment, honoring the balance of justice. Kehnu stepped forward and placed a hand on Anna's shoulder, his eyes meeting hers. She nodded slightly, relief and a strange emptiness washing over her. The danger had passed, but the weight of witnessing life and death so directly remained.
Anna looked at the circle, at the calm faces of the tribe, and at Kate, who clung quietly to her mother. The lesson had been clear: in their world, survival required strength, discipline, and respect for the tribe's rules. She breathed deeply, steadying herself, knowing that life here was harsh, but now, the threat from the outsiders had finally ended.