‘What are they doing?’ Rafadal cried out. Zastra suddenly realised their danger. All the vines had been taken by the fleeing gemlyx. None had been returned. They followed Rafadal down the yamacha to find that every westward-facing platform had been stripped of their vines. Desperate pleas rang out from inside gemlyx territory. With vines hanging uselessly between trees, the network was broken. Those left behind were trapped. A heavily overloaded coracle set off from the base of a yamacha on the edge of gemlyx territory. It wobbled dangerously, threatening to tip its occupants into the swamp. Rafadal called for Shirifa.
‘We must rebuild the network,’ he said in Aliterran. ‘Send your people in each direction.’
‘I will take Hoxha and collect any loose vines,’ said Eskela.
‘We need people stationed at each tree to return the vines after each batch of gemlyx come across,’ Rafadal said. Everyone joined in the effort. When they returned the first bunch of vines, terrified gemlyx fought each other to get to them but Hylaz and Lorzan soon put a stop to that. Bekka and Eskela weaved their vulyx between the trees, gathering the loose vines. Word spread quickly and all along the border vulyx clan members joined the rescue mission. Zastra worked with Ithgol, ferrying terrified men, women and children between their tree and one manned by Rafadal and Urbek, until evening drew in. A shadow swept across the canopy immediately above her and she felt a familiar weight on her mind.
‘Mindweavers!’ she yelled. ‘And migaradons. They are close!’ Below her position, a gemlyx man leapt off a branch, his eyes glassy and unseeing. ‘Rafadal, get your people back!’
The tharl began shouting orders. Ithgol turned blankly towards the edge of their platform. Zastra threw both arms around his broad chest. It took all her strength to stop him.
‘Morvain, get back here!’ she yelled. The Southlander and Waylin were deeper in gemlyx territory.
‘I sense three riders above us,’ he said, once they had swung back to Zastra’s tree. ‘Many more black ravens are coming through the trees.’
‘Can you protect our people?’
‘We will do what we can. But I might suggest now is not the time for romance?’
‘What happened?’ Ithgol looked down in puzzlement at Zastra’s arms, which were still encircling his chest. She released him quickly.
‘Mindweavers, circling above us. Get back to Shirifa’s tree. We will follow with the rest of the vines. We must break the network again, or the vulyx will suffer the same fate as the gemlyx.’
Morvain and Waylin were so focussed on blocking the advancing mindweavers that they barely acknowledged her.
‘We cannot… hold them much longer,’ Morvain said, sweat running down the side of his face. ‘There are too many.’
Zastra felt it too. Her head was throbbing under the pressure. Much more and she would black out.
‘Fall back,’ she commanded, ‘and signal Polina and the others to do the same.’
‘But there are still people out there,’ Waylin protested. ‘We can’t just leave them to die.’
‘We can’t allow black ravens loose on the rest of the forest. Fall back. That’s an order,’ she added as the young mindweaver hesitated. She could hear splashes, getting ever closer, as more gemlyx dropped into the swamp. They retreated, and the sounds faded.
It was a sombre group that gathered in Shirifa’s kabana. Like Rafadal’s, this yamacha was above average size and they were above the main canopy. It was nearly dark. The ko-yamacha didn’t use candles or oil lamps, but instead brought out small cages containing luminescent insects, their soft green light just enough to see by. An ear-shattering screech from a migaradon made the ko-yamacha flinch. Once more, Zastra’s felt a mindweaver try to break through her mental barriers.
‘Block them!’ Polina linked hands with the other mindweavers. She glanced at Zastra in dismay.
‘We can only protect those in this yamacha. Those further away will be at their mercy.’ Zastra’s blood chilled in her veins as she stepped out of the kabana. A migaradon circled the forest to the north, out of shooting range, but she grabbed her crossbow anyway.
‘I need to get over there,’ she said. Urbek turned to his daughter.
‘You must give Kiri to Zastra.’
‘No!’ exclaimed Bekka, with a horrified look. ‘She is too big and fat. Only children fly the vulyx. This is known.’
Zastra was too surprised to be offended. She had been called many names, but never fat.
‘It is true she is not a child, but after the poisoning, I doubt she weighs much more than you.’
‘But Kiri is mine,’ Bekka protested tearfully. ‘This whiteskin doesn’t know how to fly her.’
‘Then show me,’ Zastra said, but Bekka turned away sulkily, leaving Urbek to show her how to instruct the vulyx.
‘Up, down, left, right, faster and slower,’ he said, pointing to different groups of feathers on Kiri’s shoulders. ‘It is being all.’
‘Please keep her safe!’ Bekka pleaded as Zastra climbed onto Kiri’s back. The feathers were soft, but she could feel ridges of hard bone beneath her thighs. Screams pierced the air to the north.
‘Go!’ cried Urbek. Kiri launched into the twilight. A high-pitched shriek from immediately above startled Zastra. She had been so focussed on the migaradon to the north she hadn’t realised another was so close. She grabbed the handful of feathers that told Kiri to go higher.
‘Ark-ark!’ Kiri beat her wings furiously in response. Zastra fired three bolts in quick succession. Coming from below, she had a perfect sight of the migaradon’s belly against the pale dome of the late evening sky. The beast plummeted through the canopy, leaving a trail of splintered branches in its wake. Zastra turned Kiri to the north. The second migaradon formed a dark blot against the pale crescent left by the sun as it had set. Kiri screeched a challenge and charged towards it. Zastra gripped the vulyx with her knees and attempted to reload her crossbow, but the Kiri was onto the migaradon in a flash. Talons forward, the bird plucked the screaming rider from the saddle and cast him into the night.
‘Well done, Kiri!’ Zastra exclaimed. The riderless migaradon flailed around, wailing pitifully. Zastra let it go. Without a rider to control it, it would most likely plunge to its death in a frenzy of madness. She had seen it happen. A sudden updraft caught them and Zastra clutched a handful of feathers to steady herself. Kiri veered left. Zastra realised she had inadvertently given the bird that instruction. The wind was strong at this height and made her eyes water. There was now barely enough light to see, but Morvain had said there were three riders, which meant one more to deal with. She scoured the sky, pale dots showing the location of the brightest stars against the silvery blue background. The forest beneath lay dark and brooding, its colours leached to grey by the dusk. She heard the distinctive zip of a crossbow bolt as it flew past her ear. Kiri croaked in alarm and Zastra felt a chill run down her spine. She had made a terrible mistake, riding so high. The other migaradon was below her, using the dark background of the forest as cover. She felt a mental probe batter against her defences and pushed Kiri into a steep dive. Yet even if she could reach the cover of the forest, the mindweaver would be able to sense her in the dark, whereas she was flying blind. Kiri gave out a harsh caw. It was answered by a chilling shriek that made Zastra’s teeth ache. The migaradon was close, but still she could see nothing against the brooding forest. Something slammed into her right thigh. After an instant of numbness, pain spread down her leg. She reached down and felt the stem of a bolt protruding above her knee, slippery with warm blood. If she didn’t act quickly, she and Kiri would be picked off. The angle of the bolt told her that her opponent was still beneath her, and allowed her to guess roughly the location of the migaradon. She rested the butt of her bow against her shoulder and fired blindly. There was a howl of pain. Zastra aimed Kiri towards the sound and fired again. The migaradon’s screech was so close that the pain in Zastra’s eardrums overpowered that of her wounded leg. A fetid stench burst over her and
they clattered into something solid. Zastra was almost flung from Kiri’s back. The vulyx writhed and beat her wings furiously as she engaged the migaradon. Something thudded against Zastra’s head. She fended it off with her free hand, her fingers closing around something smooth and bony. The front edge of the migaradon’s wing. She clung to it and swung her crossbow over the top, aiming at where she figured the rider would be. Her scale-tip bolt made short work of a mere human. The pressure snapped away from her mind and the migaradon screamed as it shared the death pain of its rider, its high-pitched wail tailing off as it tumbled towards the forest. Moments later a loud splash signalled the migaradon had met the same fate as the gemlyx. Kiri cawed quietly. Her croaks had a different timbre now; wounded rather than enraged. Zastra looked for the pale green lights of the kabana to guide their way home.
Chapter Thirty-three
Kiri had suffered during her battle with the migaradon, with bald patches on her chest where her feathers had been torn out as well as a nasty double scratch beneath her left eye. Bekka wept at the sight.
‘She was very brave,’ said Zastra as she dismounted, but the girl brushed past her to comfort her beloved pet. Morvain’s mouth opened and closed like a feeding fish. It seemed dispatching three migaradons had finally rendered him speechless.
‘Your leg!’ Polina exclaimed, catching hold of Zastra as blood pulsed down her thigh. Shirifa sent for a healer and Zastra was lowered onto a pile of cushions. A grizzled woman soon arrived and pulled out the bolt without ceremony.
‘You are fortunate,’ she said, applying a poultice to the wound as Zastra gritted her teeth. ‘The tip of the bolt was jammed against your thighbone – you are lucky it isn’t broken.
‘I’m not sure what kind of luck gets me poisoned and shot within a few days,’ Zastra said, grateful for the draught the healer gave her to numb the pain.
Thorlberd’s army made no attempt to breach the gap during the night. The movement of lamps back and forth in gemlyx territory suggested some activity, but to what purpose was anyone’s guess. By morning, Zastra’s leg had swollen so much that her knee was too stiff to bend and she was forced to sit on a pile of cushions while everyone gathered around her. Waylin, Zenarbia and Ithgol were absent, maintaining watch.
‘What do we know about the position and strength of the invaders?’ Zastra asked. ‘The black ravens in particular.’
Polina yawned and Morvain rubbed red-veined eyes. They had been patrolling all night in case of another attack. Zastra was reminded how thinly they were stretched.
‘I sensed maybe twenty, spread across the forest,’ said Morvain at last. Polina agreed with his assessment.
‘Can you pinpoint their location?’
‘Perhaps, if we can get closer. Unless they are screening. A mindweaver can create something like a fog to hide their presence. It takes a lot of effort though – more than just protecting minds.’
‘I could not see into the minds of the soldiers,’ said Polina. ‘I think the black ravens are concentrating on blocking us, rather than trying to screen their presence.’
‘So, all we know is that we are vastly outnumbered, both in soldiers and mindweavers?’
‘A fair summary,’ remarked Justyn, ‘if not a very optimistic one.’
‘In Sendor, we faced similar odds these past years,’ said Lorzan. Zastra turned to him.
‘What do you recommend?’
‘Hit and run tactics. Take out their mindweavers. Then we can bring Rafadal’s people to bear.’
‘We are ready,’ said Rafadal. ‘My people were eager to attack this morning. I had a difficult task persuading them to wait.’
‘Such an attack would have been suicidal,’ exclaimed Morvain in disbelief.
‘Feelings run high,’ said Rafadal with a shrug.
‘If you can get close enough, you could locate the black ravens?’ Zastra asked. Morvain looked at her.
‘It would be risky. If they are grouped together, they can link and overwhelm our minds. Since they outnumber us, we’d suffer the same fate as the gemlyx.’
‘Then you’ll need a diversion.’
Throughout the morning, the invaders attempted to row across the swamp in coracles stolen from the gemlyx. Hylaz, Justyn and Lorzan positioned themselves across the gap, each accompanied by a young mindweaver to protect their thoughts. Armed with crossbows and plenty of bolts, they forced each coracle to turn back. Zastra was surprised Strinverl didn’t launch more migaradons. Kylen had reported that twenty, at least, had disappeared from the breeding grounds in Bractaria. Where were the rest? She rested her leg while others caught up on what sleep they could. Rafadal and Urbek had disappeared, working on a task Zastra had set them. She dozed fitfully until the drop in temperature signalled the coming rains. It would send the Golmeirans running for cover. Only the ko-yamacha knew exactly how much time they had before the rains began. It was a small advantage, but one Zastra planned to use. Bekka had, with great reluctance, been persuaded to relinquish Kiri once again, her bald spots daubed with yellowsap. Zastra levered herself onto the vulyx’s back, pain shooting up her thigh and down her shin. Justyn had offered to take her place, but he proved too heavy for the vulyx to carry. She was thankful this flight would be a short one. Hit and run, as Lorzan had suggested.
Morvain and the other mindweavers prepared to swing towards gemlyx land as Kiri flew from the kabana, taking Zastra above the canopy. The storm clouds gathered and thickened. There was a rumble of thunder, worryingly close, but Zastra had to trust Rafadal, who had said they would have enough time to complete their mission before the rains came. At her signal, Kiri dropped down through a gap in the canopy and weaved gracefully through the yamacha branches towards the occupied territory. With any luck, the Golmeirans would already be cowering in their tents. Zastra sat up and set the stock of her crossbow snugly beneath her collarbone. She carried a spare slung on her back, pre-loaded with three ordinary bolts. No need to waste precious scale-tips on this mission. She wasn’t hunting migaradons. She searched for the lastic tents, lined along branches like black pearls on a necklace.
‘Arhk! Arhk! Kiri croaked as Zastra sent her on a strafing run. The tents were packed with Golmeirans, sheltering from the rains that were about to come. A lieutenant stared at her, opened mouthed, but Zastra ignored her. Soldiers were not her targets, not yet. Two black-robed figures turned towards her. She fired twice. Justice for those poor gemlyx you sent to their deaths. A third mindweaver was dispatched as efficiently. She swapped her empty crossbow for the one on her back. The Golmeirans had realised their danger and were scrambling from the tents, reaching for their own crossbows. Zastra emptied her second bow, her aim accurate and deadly. Time to leave. She sent Kiri soaring upwards before the Golmeirans could return fire and returned to Shirifa’s kabana. As she dismounted, she sucked in a sharp breath as her leg gave way beneath her. The bandage round her thigh was soaked in blood. A crack of thunder overhead was followed by the sound of rain pattering on the canopy. At that moment, Morvain and the others returned.
‘Congratulations on a most effective distraction,’ he said. ‘Twelve mindweavers remain after your little foray and we know exactly where they are.’
Zastra nodded and limped into the kabana.
‘Good work. Time for the next phase.’
Rafadal had been busy. Around the base of Shirifa’s yamacha he had gathered five coracles, each covered with a protective dome of lastic. Oars poked out through small holes in the material. They would row across the swamp during the rains, when the invaders would not expect an attack. Morvain and the others had identified five black ravens who were isolated, with no others close by; these were their targets. Polina, Gwylla and Morvain would split up and take on those who had seemed the strongest, supported by selected ko-yamacha and the ko-venteela. Zenarbia was assigned Hylaz and Justyn, and Waylin was supported by Ithgol and Lorzan. Zastra reluctantly accepted she must stay behind.
‘You’ll only slow us down,’ said Justyn
and she was forced to agree, for with her wound opening up again she could barely stand.
‘Bring them back safe,’ she said.
‘My word on it,’ Justyn promised. She couldn’t help worrying as her companions headed down the tree towards the swamp, wearing the conical hats and yellowsap impregnated cloaks of the ko-yamacha. The healer replaced Zastra’s dressing, not bothering to be gentle.
‘Ruining my good work,’ she muttered crossly, ignoring Zastra’s grunt of pain as she yanked the fresh bandage tight. When she had finished, she offered Zastra a plate of fruit and vegetables, but Zastra waved it away, too anxious to eat.
‘Do not move!’ the healer said as Zastra tried to rise from her cushion. Time crawled past, painfully slow. The rains drowned out any sounds that might have come from gemlyx territory. At last, Morvain’s team returned, followed by Gwylla and Waylin. Myshka dabbed a damp cloth on a nasty looking burn on the back of her wrist, but otherwise they were unhurt.
‘Everything went to plan,’ Morvain said in satisfaction.
‘Same here,’ said Waylin. ‘Ithgol killed the black raven before he even woke up. And then the rest of the soldiers.’
He looked at the Kyrg with respect, mingled with fear. Gwylla looked pale, but nodded at Zastra. She had completed her task. Zastra felt for the girl. The first time in battle was never easy, nor should it be.
‘Well done,’ she said. ‘Any sign of the others?’ No one had seen Polina or Zenarbia since the coracles had separated. They waited and waited. Zastra was just about to risk the wrath of the healer and climb down the tree to go and look for them when Polina staggered into the kabana. Her hands were covered in blood and her face was pale.
‘Healer!’ she gasped. Morvain grabbed her before she collapsed.
Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set Page 86