by Terry Brooks
“We might want to pay more attention from here on.” The Blade took a moment to consider. “Still it seems like a good place to spend the night.”
So they did, cutting conifer bows from other trees nearby to carpet the ground and snuggling into the lean-to together, using each other for warmth. It wasn’t particularly cold at night in this valley, but without blankets or any other form of covering, the extra warmth was welcome. In any event, it was Ajin’s favorite part of the day. She welcomed the feel of Dar against her, the warmth and reassurance of his presence, but mostly the dreams it fueled of a life together. It was silly to be so smitten, she knew, but it felt like so much more, and she clung to it.
She was sound asleep, deep in the night, when Dar jiggled her shoulders softly from where he lay behind her, waking her. “Ajin,” he whispered.
Ajin opened her eyes to find their shelter surrounded by a dozen pairs of eyes looking in at them. Their owners wore ragged clothing and carried spears, which possessed the largest blades she had ever seen—each consisting of a sharpened iron point inserted and bound into a split cut into the end of a rough wooden haft. Knives were strapped about their waists, and their faces and chests were painted with black stripes across their cheeks and foreheads.
Jutes, she realized. But what were they doing on these islands? The Jute nations were Eurodian-based, situated far to the north. These men were a long way from home. She could feel Dar reaching for his sword, and she quickly seized his arm. “No, wait. I speak a little of their language. I’ve been in their country, where I picked up a few words. Let me try talking to them first.”
Without waiting for him to agree, she sat up to face the men gathered in front of her. “Cesh’ay Tou’ranzi…aboq mou? Jutes fo’zen?”
“Reshe,” one responded. Then he pointed to her with his spear. “Skaar?”
“Nosh Skaar. Vos coup’kip ahn?”
Without glancing at Dar she said, “They think I’m a Skaar. We conquered their nation years ago and they hate us. I told him we were from a land to the far west, another continent. If he finds out the truth, I’m dead.”
She turned back to the man and asked him in his own language why they were so far from home. They were looking at one another, clearly surprised this young woman knew their tongue, but they were not threatening, so Ajin risked a quick smile. No one smiled back.
“Pouk sanz arn peesh,” one said. “We are a hunting party,” she translated for Dar.
But they clearly weren’t. They were hundreds of miles from Eurodia, and the lack of any real game on this island was apparent. She grew wary. Something wasn’t right.
“Pouk ast fren?”
The same man was still talking. He was asking now if they were part of a larger group and if their friends were looking for them. Ajin gave Dar a look that didn’t require translating. Watch out. “Reshe. Isht,” she replied. Yes and yes.
“Cush’ta resen irrit’la quaes?” he asked. Would you like something to eat and drink while waiting?
This time when she translated to Dar, she made herself smile the entire time. “They are offering us food and water, but I don’t think we should eat or drink anything.”
“Why are they out here at this time of night?” Dar asked. “What would they be hunting?”
“Us, maybe?”
“Then we ought to settle matters here and now.”
“No. Too risky. Too many of them, and we’re barely awake. Let them think we believe them to be friends and are willing to share their hospitality. They will be off guard if we agree to go with them. If they turn on us, we can fight our way clear.”
“Won’t they just track us if we do that, Ajin?”
“Not if they’re all dead.” Her look was stony. “If you want, we can try to end it here. But I think we ought to be sure.”
Dar nodded. Ajin turned to the speaker. “Aqu’un jemja westay tak ek orianta.” Thank you for offering your help. We would be happy to go with you.
They rose, stretched, and started out, Jutes all around them. It made Ajin feel claustrophobic to be so surrounded, but she clamped down on the scowl that threatened to break free and tucked away her feelings of doubt. She was still wondering why these men would bother to lure them into their camp rather than kill them while they slept. But whatever was going on, it was nothing she wanted any part of, and she studied them closely as they walked, waiting for the flash of a blade or a sudden threatening movement.
After less than five minutes of walking, Darcon Leah bent close. “Pretend I am saying something funny and laugh as hard as you can. When you do, watch for them to laugh with you.”
Dar made an offhand remark, and she laughed as directed. As she did, some of those closest laughed with her. When they did, she caught glimpses of white teeth.
The teeth were filed to a point. All of them. She exchanged a quick look with Dar. Cannibals.
FIFTEEN
The Jutes had walked Ajin and Dar for less than thirty minutes when the whistling started—shrill and quite close. Immediately their escort started looking around, clearly startled and perhaps, from the way they crouched and wheeled this way and that, frightened. But there was no way of telling where the whistling was coming from or what it meant. It lasted only a short span of seconds, and then the silence was back.
Dar glanced at Ajin, who looked perplexed. What is that? she mouthed. But he only shook his head.
More time passed, and then a shrieking sounded, this time decidedly closer, high and piercing, splitting the silence with shocking power that stopped the procession in its tracks.
The natives formed a tight circle about their guests and looked out into the night. Whatever was happening, they seemed to be expecting trouble. But after a long wait with none appearing, their leader beckoned them ahead. Ajin tried asking in the Jute tongue what the whistling meant, but she was pointedly ignored.
After a moment, though, Dar bent close. “That whistling was of the same sort that boy gave to calm his horned friend when we encountered them in the valley,” he confided in a whisper. “The shrieking was something else. I think the two were signaling.” He took a quick glance around. “From the way our escort reacted, I think they recognized both. It might be they’ve met before. And not as friends.”
She nodded. “But who would they be signaling?”
“Not sure. But we should think about what we’re going to do if it means trouble. We’d better have a plan for escaping this bunch.”
“Oh, I’m way ahead of you on that. Just be ready when I signal.”
Great. Just wait for her to let him know whether to run or fight. The princess rules. “How about you be ready for when I signal?” he whispered back.
She laughed softly. “That way we can both be ready.”
Their journey ended at a camp that was little more than a series of half-wall shelters and weapons racks. A fire was burning, and they were invited to sit down and rest. Their hosts were speaking in their native tongue, having established that Ajin understood enough to be able to translate. The princess nodded and beckoned Dar to join her. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, turned slightly away from each other so that they could see everything around them. Neither was about to risk letting any of the Jutes get behind them unawares. Food was prepared and some sort of drink offered, but they declined both with smiles. Dar pretended to be full, rubbing his stomach and exhaling sharply. But the Nambizi did not appear fooled and looked at them with suspicion.
“If you have any ideas, now might be a good time to tell me,” Dar said.
He did a quick head count and found that two more men had appeared to join the party—men who had apparently stayed behind to watch their camp while the others were out. That meant there were sixteen of them altogether—more than he wanted to fight at once, even with Ajin to help him. But it was looking more and more as if it might be inevitable.
“We have to escape right now,” he whispered. “They won’t wait much longer if they intend to make a meal of us.”
She shook her head. “We’ll stall until daybreak if we can. We don’t know which way to run. In the dark, we won’t stand a chance.”
“We might not stand a chance anyway, if they can track us. And it seems likely to me they know the country.” He sighed. “But it might be easier in the daylight than now.”
“For them, too.” Then she sighed, clearly unhappy with their choices. “But I don’t much care to end up as someone’s meal. Let me try something else first.”
She rose and went over to the leader, speaking to him quietly. The conversation lasted only a short time and then she was back, resuming her seat next to Dar. “I suggested we should leave, that our friends would be looking for us. He said it was too dangerous. He said there were enemies and predators lying in wait, and we were safer here. I agreed.”
“You agreed?”
“Better to let him think we are under his control, relying on him. He made it plain that he didn’t want us leaving, so we might as well let him think we’ll comply. We can still make a break if we need to, but they don’t seem to be in any hurry to do anything to us just yet. For the moment, they seem more concerned with the whistling. A few of them wandered off, probably scouting for the source. What do you want to do?”
He shook his head. “Sit tight until we see a chance to either slip away or make a run for it. But I don’t think we can wait very long.”
“Coming with them was a bad idea.”
“It wasn’t as if we had a choice, with a dozen spears surrounding us. What I don’t understand is why we’re still alive.”
“Maybe they think they can get their hands on the friends we told them were looking for us, too?”
“Maybe.”
Time passed. The Jutes continued to be restless and alert, pairs of them coming and going, the rest huddled together in small groups. They had their weapons out and ready by now—bows and arrows and those odd-shaped spears with long blades fastened into short hafts. They seemed to have forgotten about Dar and Ajin for the moment, and the pair sat quietly, waiting for something to happen.
When something finally did, it caught them completely by surprise. The shriek sounded as if it were right on top of them—a shrill howl that caused the Jutes to rush to the perimeter of their camp, closest to where the sound seemed to have originated, with weapons held protectively before them. A black shadow charged through the camp, low and swift, down on all fours, and the Jutes scattered in all directions.
Seconds later the shadow was gone again. By then, Dar and Ajin were on their feet by unspoken consent, racing in the opposite direction into the darkness. There was enough light from the moon and stars to see a little of each other and where they were going, so they could keep from being separated. Dar took the lead, but Ajin—smaller, lighter, and quicker—passed him by almost immediately. Neither looked back as they ran, ignoring whatever was happening behind them, seeking only to put distance between themselves and those who might be giving chase. Through trees and brush, over logs and ruts, down gullies and across streams they raced, the sounds behind them quickly disappearing.
“Are they following?” Ajin called back to Dar at one point.
The Blade risked a quick glance around. “Can’t see them, if they are.”
They ran for a long time without saying anything further, having no better plan than to get so far away the Jutes would lose interest in the chase. They listened for the whistling, but it did not come again. The night around them was deep and still, and the only sounds were the ones they made in their determination to keep running.
When at last they had run themselves out, they drew to a halt on a rise amid the heavy forest and stood breathing heavily. Overhead, a half-moon passed in descent toward the horizon, but they could not tell much from that. The stars were of no help, either. Their alignment in this part of the world was unfamiliar.
“When the sun rises, maybe we can tell which direction we should be going,” Ajin suggested. “But we should keep walking.”
They started out again, moving at a slower pace, regaining their strength while still making progress. Dar was worried that, in the absence of a visible landmark, they might be traveling in a circle without realizing it. But moving in any direction still felt better than the alternative, and so far there had been no further signs of pursuit. They didn’t talk, both aware of how far voices carried.
Neither doubted pursuit was coming. Neither believed their flight was over.
And they were not wrong. They had gone back to running after a time—a slow jog rather than a fast sprint. But they were tiring, and there was still no indication of a chase. It might have been an hour or two since they fled the camp; there was no way of telling.
Suddenly Ajin caught his arm, whispering in a ragged voice, “I have to rest a moment.”
Dar had been thinking the same, his legs aching, his breathing heavy, and his lungs on fire. He slowed and stopped, nodding in agreement, wondering how much longer they could keep going. They were standing in a clearing surrounded by forest, the sky open and clear above. There were stars everywhere, but their identity remained a mystery.
Then, as they moved toward the concealment of the trees, two of the Jutes stepped into view in front of them.
Both pairs were caught by surprise. Both were quick to react.
The man closest to Dar thrust his spear at him instantly—a clear indication that any pretense at friendship was over. Dar sidestepped, seized the man, and threw him to the ground. Out came the Sword of Leah as the second man came at him from the side, but Ajin was already attacking, knife in hand. In seconds, both attackers lay dead.
“We better run!” Ajin exclaimed.
Then matters got completely out of hand.
The pair had just resumed fleeing again when they ran right into another group of pursuers. This time there were five, and all came at them at once. Dar called up his blade’s magic, and it burned with fiery brightness in response, causing their attackers to back away in shock and fear, unsure what they were facing. “Daebo!” screamed one, and the others took up the cry. Demon, demon! Ajin shouted it back at them, but they held their ground, and when Dar did nothing more than back away, they decided maybe he wasn’t a demon after all and came at them. Ajin responded, bold as ever, never afraid of combat. She was quick and fluid, and two of their attackers lay lifeless on the ground in only seconds. Though aware that his sword could not work its magic against non-magical creatures, Dar could still use it as a weapon and rushed at the other three. But they refused to give ground, their sharp-bladed spears thrusting as they feinted and lunged.
Then another pair appeared at their backs, these two armed with bows and arrows. Staying safely out of reach, they fitted their arrows in place and drew back the strings. Ajin took down one with a throwing knife, but the second put an arrow in Dar’s shoulder.
An instant later more Jutes appeared, and matters took a bleaker turn. There were too many of them now, and they ringed their prey. Dar knew he and Ajin were finished. Their only option was to attack and hope they could break through to safety or bring down a sufficient number that the others would choose to flee.
Abruptly a shriek rent the darkness overhead, and the same creature that had attacked the Jutes in their camp appeared once more, launching out of nowhere, claws extended. Several of its victims were torn apart as it charged through, claws ripping and tearing, screams rising up as bodies fell. This was enough for the rest, who turned at once and fled back into the trees.
Their attacker did not attempt to follow. Instead, it turned to Dar and Ajin where they were crouching in anticipation of a fresh attack from this new enemy. Then slowly the shadow began to change shape, re-forming until it was reco
gnizable.
Seelah.
The Blade and the princess straightened, but before either of them could speak, another shriek broke the spell—this one coming from overhead. A giant winged predator hove into view, its great wings spread wide, its jaws opening as it screamed again. A shrike, but the biggest Dar had ever seen. They shrank from it as it drew closer, unsure of what was happening.
But when the bird settled down right in front of them, folding its wings against its body, Dar saw Shea Ohmsford sitting astride its shoulders, calling out in greeting. Behind him was another boy, this one a native, facial features and clothing suggesting he was from an Afrique tribe.
Shea slid down the giant bird’s back and rushed over. “Found you!” he exclaimed, clasping Dar’s hand in greeting. “And just in time! That was close, wasn’t it?”
The Blade could not quite believe it was the boy. “Where did you come from? What are you doing on this bird?”
“Oh, that’s a kind of shrike. Huge, isn’t it? I don’t know its name, but Borshawk does.” He pointed to his companion. “That’s Borshawk. We’re friends. We met a few nights back in the valley.”
“But how did you find us?”
Seelah had moved over to Shea and was licking his ear. The boy shoved her away. “Stop that!” He turned back to Dar. “Borshawk’s people live on this island, and in most of these valleys. Not this one, though. They stay out of this one—except for one or two scouts to keep an eye on things. Borshawk is one of them.”
Then he proceeded to tell them all about his first encounter with the other boy and his subsequent search to find him again so he might try to help find Dar and Ajin before the pirates returned.
“Those were cannibals!” he exclaimed, wide-eyed. “Outcasts from some other part of the world. Don’t know how they ended up here, but they would have eaten you!”
Ajin laughed. “We figured it out in time. They invited us to dinner, but we didn’t want to end up as the main course.”