When Booloo saw my confusion, he smiled. It was a glorious smile. He stuck his sword into the ground, or the tree that served as our ground, and flicked the patch around his shoulders and let it fall over the front of his body. He clutched it tight, and a moment later, he seemed to be nothing more than a floating head. He had naturally been camouflaged.
The look on my face made him laugh. He whipped off the cloak, for that’s how I now thought of it, and handed it to me. He picked up the other for himself. He bent down and proceeded to roll it up. I held my cloak in front of me. On one side was the part that served as camouflage, but the other side was transparent. I lifted it over my head, saw that I could see through it almost as clearly as if it were not there.
Booloo began to talk, and his words were like a stream. They wouldn’t cease. He was telling me about the material he had just cut into patches, of that I was certain, and it seemed to excite him to no end. My guess is that he was trying to explain the rarity of it, and the good fortune of finding it.
It was during his explanation that behind him, on the greater expansion of the gauze, I saw something that made me realize the source of the material Booloo had just cut was not of its own making. A creature that looked very much like an earthly spider was crawling down from on high. It had twelve
legs and large black eyes and dripping chelicerae; it scuttled rapidly on its hairy legs, and my immediate thought was that it was not hurrying down to give us an enthusiastic greeting. Booloo had just cut a portion of its web, and the beast resented the invasion.
I pulled my sword just as Booloo noticed its approach and pulled his, and then the thing leaped. I jumped out of its way, and was amazed to find that the leap was effortless and carried me a great distance. When I wheeled to look back, Booloo was under the spider, and its snapping “jaws” were trying to drive its fangs into him. He was managing to keep it at bay by pushing his sword crossways between the set of fangs, but the power of the creature was weakening his grip and his resolve.
With one step and a leap, I was on the creature’s back. I drove my sword down hard into its head. It then bucked, like a horse, and threw me back into the hanging patch of gauze, which I knew now to be a web. I stuck there immediately, but my sword arm was free, and as the monster rushed at me, I stabbed out at it and planted my sword directly into one of its eyes, which exploded a kind of black goo that splattered on me and the web.
As the spider snapped its fangs in the air, I saw Booloo scrambling up over the top of the spider, clutching at it with one hand, while driving his sword deep into its broad back.
I pushed out as far as I could, and tried to cut backwards with my sword. Pinned as I was to the web, I found this difficult, but by slashing over my shoulder, I was able to cut loose enough of my restraint to fall forward and out of the web. Still, it clung to me. I stood and found myself twisted up in it. I cut at it viciously with the sword arm until it came free. A moment later, the web relaxed and fell away from me and onto the tree beneath my feet. The spider may have made it, but it seemed to be a living thing, and any section of it cut down and separated from the rest, lost its life and its stickiness, if not its camouflage.
I turned my attention to Booloo and the spider, saw that it was scuttling up one of the many branches that served as a tree on our giant base tree. Booloo was hanging to it like a parasite with one hand, and with the other, slashing at it with his sword.
I glanced around for Butch, planning to use him as a method of pursuit, and though he was normally content to stand by until we were ready to mount, he, or perhaps she, had scampered out of sight for fear of the spider, or perhaps he had sniffed out something to eat.
I stuck the light sword in my teeth and started to climb, and found that my newly acquired muscles had come with tremendous agility. I was able to scurry up the tree as effortlessly as a squirrel, my only impediment being my shoes, the soles of which slipped as I climbed.
Within instants, I had reached the spider, but had dropped my sword from my mouth. It had struck a limb as I climbed, cutting into the side of my mouth. It seemed the better part of valor was to let it fall than to have it inadvertently slice my head in half. Climbing onto the spider from the rear, dragging myself across its back by holding onto its thick hairs, which sprouted all over its body, I arrived at the spot where Booloo clung. He too had lost his sword, and was hanging for dear life as the spider navigated rapidly through the branches, trying to drag us off.
Finally, as if on cue, we both abandoned our mount, and nested ourselves onto a tree limb. We looked at each other. Booloo laughed. We looked up at the spider, still climbing, and then it stopped. It turned and we ceased to laugh.
It was coming back.
The spider-thing rushed down the tree, darting between limbs and leaves, set for the attack. Booloo and I moved off to the left and along a narrow limb. The limb parted, like a fork. I set out toward the thinner section of it, while Booloo veered right, climbing upwards and across to another tree. He called to me, repeating my name over and over, realizing we had gone in opposite directions. I ignored him. I had bigger problems. One of those big problems was a spider about the size of a delivery truck. I snatched a large yellow, oblong-shaped nut from one of tree’s leafy boughs, wheeled and hurled it just as the monster was turning to pursue Booloo.
The nut hit the spider hard. There came from it a noise that was neither cry nor bark, but somewhere in between. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Angry, it switched its path, darted after me. I went out as far on the limb as I could, then leaped to another, grabbing at a thick ropelike vine, feeling it give slightly, allowing me to swing out and down onto the bough of a tree below. When I looked up, the spider leapt from the limb where I had left it, light as a feather in the wind; it sailed across space and barely clutched its multiple legs into a netting of vines, and scrambled down after me. As it did, I jumped onto a narrow limb that rocked beneath my weight, saw there was another, quite some distance away. If I were on Earth I would have had no chance at all reaching it, but now, with my muscles hot-wired by the atmosphere and its strange pollen, I pivoted to watch the spider coming toward me at a legclicking run that was made all the more frightening by its leaking, savaged eye, its snapping jaws dripping green poison.
When it was twenty feet away, panic nearly caused me to retreat and leap. But I held my spot. Ten feet away. My knees coiled, and I half turned. Looking over my shoulder I saw that it was no more than six feet from me. I ran along the length of the limb, and jumped, successfully landed across the way on another limb. It gave beneath me, but sprang back to position, nearly tossing me from it.
I turned to see the spider hurtling toward me in midair, its legs flailing. I think both the beast and I knew simultaneously it wasn’t going to make it. When it was three feet from my limb, it began to wag its legs and twist its head, and then it dipped and fell, splattering against limbs and tree trunks. It tangled briefly in vines, the vines snapped, and down it dropped, crashing almost directly in front of its web in a confusion of legs and body explosions.
I turned as I heard Booloo let out with a yip of triumph from a tree across the way. He leaped up and down on a limb like an excited monkey, chattering in his strange language.
Chapter Six
The Woman
We gathered up our cloaks from the web of the spider, and went looking for Butch. After some searching, we found the creature amongst a clutch of strange red and blue plants. Butch was munching them contentedly, having forgotten whatever had frightened it in the first place.
Riding Butch again, we continued on our way until we came to the plants from which Booloo had made my now-lost sword. Here we paused and made one a piece, using my pocket knife to cut the plants near their base where they were less strong, and more like common wood. The sword I now possessed was, frankly, not up to the one I had carried before. It was shorter and not as straight, but this was the condition of the entire plant, and no other pl
ant of the same sort was currently within sight. It wasn’t ideal, but under the circumstances it would have to do. The swords were still very serviceable.
Again, I was just going along for the ride because to do otherwise would leave me stranded in this strange land without assistance. I could easily starve surrounded by food, and not even know it. But, as we traveled, I carefully noted the fruits and vegetables Booloo chose, so that if we were ever separated I might at least have a fighting chance.
Two days later, after enduring windstorms and rainstorms, sleeping in tree caves, practicing my meditation, dancing about with my sword to accustom myself to its weight, riding until my butt ached, we came upon the giants and the mantis-things. We saw them from a distance. We were high up in a tree, strapped onto Butch, and when we dipped down slightly, letting the limbs of the tree predict our course, we could see through gaps in the leaves and limbs, a patch of devastated forest. Keep in mind that when I refer to forest, I refer to the trees that grew out of one of the great trees that on Earth would make up a small town. In fact, some of these forests, or jungles, were based on what would be a limb of a tree; though the term limb seems inadequate, considering the size of such a growth. To give you some idea of the size, in the distance, if we were high enough, we could see other great trees, looking like continents across an expanse of mist and blowing leaves.
But this smaller part of the forest to which I refer was hacked down and burnt, except for a few spotty, thin trees stripped of limbs. They were left standing, but their purpose was not an aesthetic one. Dangling from them by ropes were field-dressed bodies of men and women, headless, fastened to long hemp-style ropes; the corpses were split open and dripped blood; the corpses were those of men, women, and children.
It was a revolting sight, made all the more revolting, because as we watched, the giants approached one of the trees, tore down a few of the field-dressed bodies, and carried them toward a crackling fire. The fire was fueled by the trees they had chopped down. The meat was tossed directly onto the blazing pile amidst loud sounds of satisfaction from the giants; the meat hissed and popped in the flames. The mantis things, dismounted, came forward then. They moved erratically, as if balanced on stilts. They squatted down, well outside the circle where the giants gathered.
Besides the corpses, there were living men and women—no children, they had all been disposed of by the giants—fixed firmly by long, yellow ropes that were attached to the tops of the trees. The ropes dangled down with the humans tied at their ends. They also had their arms and legs bound as well.
Seeing this, Booloo started to urge Butch forward, but I clasped his shoulder. He turned and looked at me. I shook my head, hoping the movement meant the same here as it did on Earth. He looked at me for a long moment, then dropped his head and turned back into his position on Butch’s back. He trembled with anger.
It felt odd for me, for the first time in a long time, to be the rational one.
I gained his attention again, and by method of making signs with my hands, tried to make him realize that our chances were better if we waited until dark. I touched one of the folded up cloaks he had made from the spider’s web. He nodded. We dismounted, and led Butch along the limb on which we were traveling, back into thicker foliage. There we tied Butch in a place where he could graze, and we went up a tall, thin tree, thick with foliage. At the top of it we found positions on limbs and looked out and down.
The giants were pulling smoking, blackened bodies from the fire and feeding themselves. They pushed and shoved one another and tore at the partially cooked flesh with their teeth like wild dogs. The things on the backs of their heads lay still, the tentacles not moving.
The mantises waited in a circle around them. From time to time the giants would toss a chunk of the meat outside the circle, and the mantises would scramble and fight for the scraps. After awhile, great gourds were brought forth. Soon the giants were gulping loudly from them.
It didn’t take long to determine that the contents of the gourds consisted of some kind of alcoholic beverage, for soon the giants were pushing and shoving one another, fighting, and then falling down to sleep. As they did, the insectoids rushed in and grabbed at the disgusting remains of the meal, the last dregs in the gourds. It was a horrid spectacle.
As we observed, I noted that tied to one of the trees was a woman that stood out like fire on an ice flow. She was the most beautiful amongst a number of beautiful women. In fact, from what I had seen, a trademark of these people seemed to be their astonishing beauty. If the people of Earth could see them, each and every one of them, though constructed slightly different from Earthly humans, would have been thought models or movie stars. But even among a group of beautiful people, she was outstanding.
She was long and lean and curvaceous, with an almost elfin face framed by great waves of scarlet hair. Even from a distance, unable to see the detail of her features, she was striking. She was nude from the waist up, and her breasts were perfectly shaped and firm. Her only clothing was a kind of sarong of dark material fastened about her waist. She was shoeless. I was so stunned by her appearance, for a moment, I nearly lost my grip on a limb that held me in place.
As I was watching her, Booloo tapped my shoulder and pointed directly at her. He touched his chest. “Choona. Choona,” he said.
I was uncertain of what he was actually saying, but the meaning seemed obvious. The beautiful redhead was his woman. It became evident now why we had made a wide circle to catch back up with the giants. He wanted to rescue her, though had he been left to his own devices, charging down amongst them on Butch’s back, he would have most certainly been enslaved, killed or eaten.
I nodded to him, looked back at the woman, feeling weak, and even envious of Booloo. But when I turned back to him, I clasped his shoulder and nodded, hopefully letting him know I was a willing assistant in any enterprise to rescue her.
The night came down like a drift of crepe paper and fell onto and twisted between the trees and coated them black. With it came the sounds of night birds and creatures, cries and squeaks and grunts and growls. The fires still raged below, and the light from them flickered across the standing trees that held the prisoners. The beautiful woman was nothing more than a shadow now, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. When I had first seen her she had been standing, regal as a queen, but now she was sitting on the ground, her head hung. Seeing her that way made me angry and sick to my stomach.
If the giants were to move in her direction, perhaps to prepare her as food, I was certain I would hurry down there and do the best I could to save her. Of course, I felt for the others, but I must be honest and say the sight of her, the one Booloo referred to as Choona, gave me a strength and direction I had not felt in days. Without even knowing her, I knew I would give my life for her. I suppose this is what they call Love At First Sight.
Booloo fastened his bow to the side of Butch, because he had no arrows left, and we donned our cloaks and took our swords, and moved silently down among them on foot.
The cloaks made us dark as the night, but they were not perfect. When I looked at Booloo, I could see from time to time that he was like a patch of darkness coming loose from the gloom. I could see him moving, and could discern his shape, and occasionally, when the cloak slipped from where he gathered it at his head with his hand, I could glimpse his face.
But, if I were not expecting to see him, and if I were some distance away, then the probability of seeing him, or me, was small. Or so I hoped.
We stayed as far away as possible from the fires and the giants who were stretched out on the ground sleeping. The mantis creatures were standing near the trees, watching over the captives, stirring about restlessly with their stilt-like moves.
I slid in between two of them without being detected. I had my sword held close to my side, and when I was near the captives, I moved the cloak to reveal my face, ever so slightly. One man, startled by my presence, let out a gasp. I threw a finger to my lips for silence,
but it was too late. I could hear movement behind me. I gathered the cloak around me and moved as quietly as I could to the left, and turned ever so slightly, hoping no more than my eye was revealed by the cloak that went from my head to my feet.
One of the mantis things came over to the man who had gasped, and kicked him. It was for no other reason than sport. I remained still. The mantis kicked the man again, made a noise in his throat like someone rattling dice in a tin cup, then moved away to join his chortling comrades.
I saw across the way that Booloo had already managed to cut a number of captives free, and they were slipping off into the darkness. I went about doing the same thing, cutting all those at the tree nearest me free. They drifted away into the gloom, toward where the trees grew thick. Moving quickly, I made the tree where Booloo’s sister was held, and arrived there at the same time he did. We actually collided slightly, not noticing one another, veiled as we were.
I’m proud to say it was my sword that sliced away Choona’s bonds. As I did it, I let go of my cloak, allowing my face to be shown. Her eyebrows lifted when she saw me. Perhaps, because of the dark, there was little she could make of my features, and perhaps she was trying to associate me with one of her own tribe. When Booloo touched her arm, she smiled and hugged him beneath the cloak.
It was then that I heard a noise behind me. We had revealed too much of ourselves with our movements, and camouflaged or not, we had been seen. The insect warriors let out a series of snapping noises, drew swords and rushed toward us.
In the next moment, I flicked off my cloak, letting it hang over one shoulder. I rammed my sword through a sticklike body with a technique so smooth it was like pushing a hot knife through warm butter. The thing fell, and then the other mantis things were on me.
By this time all the captives had been freed and were scrambling toward the forest outside the chopped and burned circle. I jetted like a bullet between foes, bobbing, weaving, stabbing, and slashing. Everything I had ever learned from Jack Rimbauld I used, and it was such a part of me, I never had to think about a particular move, or method. I was natural, precise, and deadly. Within moments, the mantises lay around me like stacked sticks.
Sojan the Swordsman ; Under the Warrior Sky Page 15