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Maulká
Maulká stayed close to the wall as if keeping to the shadows, though no shadow could be darker than the pitch black of the sloping corridor. There was only one topic of conversation throughout the colony. Everyone was speaking of the catch, and wild rumors began to spread. Sighing in exasperation, Maulká reflected that the fact of the catch itself was likely the only rumor with an ounce of truth.
A soft noise sounded from further up the hallway, and Maulká drew her knife. A man appeared through a doorway several yards from her position. He was a messenger, she saw, recently come from the jungle. She grimaced, recognizing the man. He was easily intimidated, a weakness she despised. Sheathing her knife, Maulká hissed at the messenger. He twisted around, startled.
“Where is the catch kept?” Maulká demanded. The messenger winced, but tried to answer with a semblance of calm.
“In the cell at the end of the left hall. Bestialán will be there by now, and Kínadhen is on guard,” he muttered. Maulká nodded and hastened up the corridor, dismissing the messenger from mind. She reflected momentarily on the two names. Kínadhen… foolish, but strong. She tolerated his existence, but spared the man no thought. Bestialán was another matter, one of the few people she respected and treated in a civil manner. The respect was born of fear, though Maulká was loath to admit it. She knew Bestialán could best her without trouble in a fight in the jungle. Cursed sun-eyes…
Reaching the cell the messenger had directed her to, Maulká found Kínadhen standing at the entrance. Bestialán was not there, she noted irritably. It made no difference, but she disliked being mislead.
“Kínadhen! What is to be done with it?” she called. The guard shrugged. Maulká sighed, thinking, He probably has orders to let no one near. It’s not worth killing over, I must be patient. She moved to a small alcove across the hallway and sat down, watching the cell door, wondering who else would come to see the catch.
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