The noise, however, had alerted the giants, who were up, and drunkenly weaving about, grabbing at their swords, swinging wildly, even managing to chop down a couple of their own. The weird growths, or whatever they were at the backs of their necks, flashed out their feet, or tentacle-like appendages, waved them in the air as if directing traffic from all directions.
I finished up with a mantis by dodging under its thrust and coming up with a backhand swing that took off its head, then I broke and ran, barely maintaining my weapon as I threw the cloak over me and dashed across the devastated ground toward where the forest grew thick again.
Chapter Seven
The Warrior Star
In the forest I was able to climb up a tree and find a broad limb on which to rest. I pulled the cloak tight about me, left it open slightly around my face so that I could see.
Below me, the mantises were scrambling about through the forest, and the torch-wielding giants were hacking at the underbrush and small trees with their great broadswords, felling them like they were nothing more than cardboard tubes. Behind them, I could still see the great fires raging. I could also see that some of the humans we had cut loose had been apprehended, and the monsters, both mantis and giant, were making short work of them, not trying to capture them, but going straight for the kill.
A short time later, the giants were setting fire to the forest. The blaze caught slowly, but finally it caught, and I was forced to abandon my tree, move across to another.
Like a monkey, I fled from one tree to the next, grabbing limbs and vines. I couldn’t believe how this planet had changed my muscles and abilities. I finally came to a great dip in the vegetation and finally a deep ravine. I scuttled down the tree that was on the edge of that divide, losing my cloak in the process, but I maintained my sword. I had just touched ground, when I heard a whisper, and a soft voice speaking in the language of Booloo.
It was Booloo himself, and Choona. There were two others with them, two men. I had accidentally come upon my new companions.
Booloo, like me, had lost his cloak, but had held onto his sword. We had little time celebrate our reunion. Looking up, I saw bobbing licks of light, realized it was the torches of the giants. I could see a great blaze behind them. They had been trapped by their own fire, and the fire was driving them toward the deep ravine.
Soon, we could see their heads rising up amongst the trees like trees themselves, their three eyes reflecting the flickering light of their torches, their teeth glistening wetly. It was as if I had been caught inside an old Grimm’s fairy tale of giants and monsters, for below them, some on the backs of their beetles, some on foot, were the mantises.
A great flash of torchlight fell over us, and one of the giants let out a bellow, and charged forward. I sprang forward with my sword, leaping so that my foot landed on the bent knee of the closest giant. From there I sprang effortlessly until I landed on his belt, and with another leap, I was even with his neck. While in the air, I slashed at his throat with all my might.
Even as I took the long fall down, his hot blood gushed from his throat like a fountain and splashed down on me. I hit the ground with amazing lightness that even I didn’t understand. Then I was bounding up a tree, using my free arm to grab and my feet to climb. I leapt from limb to limb and hurtled myself out of the tree and into the face of another giant, grabbing at a long strand of his hair, clutching my fists into it, and plunging my sword into his middle eye with such savage force I felt it touch the back of his skull. My blade had gone through and pierced the thing that clutched to the back of his head; it fell loose from him with a screech, and splattered below.
The giant still stood. He bellowed and grabbed at me, but I swung the sword and severed one of his fingers, swung around on the strand of hair until I was behind him, dangling down his back. With a quick move, I was up and on his shoulder. I reached around and cut his throat from ear to ear with a whipsaw motion.
As he toppled, I rode him to the ground, like a falling tree.
On my feet again, I wheeled and saw that Booloo was attacking the legs of one of the giants, and his two male companions were grabbing a mantis, jerking him off of his beetle mount. I turned again, looking for the girl. She had snatched up the fallen mantis’s sword and was jolting across a clear patch of ground. As I watched, she sprang and hit one of the insects, knocking him off the back of his beetle, coming down on him and driving the purloined sword with all her force through his chest. Then she was up, whipping the sword about, doing battle with two other mantises trying to close in on her from left and right.
Choona moved with incredible dexterity, causing one of the mantis’s slashes to swing above her and instead find its mark in the side of his companion. And then Choona was up on the beetle behind the remaining mantis, ramming the sword into his back, the point of it leaping out of his chest like an arrow shot from his innards. She dumped him off the beetle, kicked her heels into the bug, and caught up with the other beetle, grabbed its reins and called out to the others of her kind.
The two others were soon on the mount, riding double. Choona loped over to where Booloo and I had joined together, stuck out a hand and pulled Booloo up behind her. He in turn pulled me up behind him. I barely fit back there. Riding double was all right, but triple?
More giants came through the forest, and more mounted mantises, all of them driven forward by the fire and the chugs of foul-smelling smoke. Choona clicked to our bug and rode him down the side of the deep ravine, with me clutching to Booloo so as not to fall.
I thought of poor Butch, back there tied to a branch, waiting. It was my guess that he would eventually work himself free, perhaps even eat his reins, and find his way in the wild. But at that moment, Butch was the least of my worries. Our adversaries were gaining on us. The giants stopped at the edge of the ravine and yelled insults, jerked up small trees and tossed them at us. We saw our companions on their mounts take a hit and tumble off and fall screaming down into the deep ravine; we could hear their bodies strike the water below.
Debris whistled by us, but none of it hit home. We went into the deeper dark of the ravine, and when I turned and looked up, I saw that the fire had made its way nearly to the edge. The giants were blaring out in pain. Flames had enveloped several, and they collapsed inside the inferno. Several of them leaped over the edge of the ravine, into the dark, and moments later I heard the crash of their bodies below.
The mantises, on the backs of the surefooted beetles, were doing fine, however, and they were gaining on us.
I was about to leap off the beetle to lighten the load for Choona and Booloo, cling to the vines that grew down the side of the ravine, and take my chances with the mantises, when I realized they were close, but not actually pursuing. They had given up on us and were now practicing the art of survival. Perhaps without their giant comrades, their masters, they felt little obligation to continue their pursuit of us. Whatever their intent, they veered off and rode their beetles down the side of the canyon, dipped away into darkness.
When we came to the bottom of the ravine, I was surprised to discover that there was not only a run of water, but crashing rapids. Booloo directed our beetle to the edge of the river, and forced it into the churning water. I thought this the height of insanity, not to mention stupidity, but a moment later the beetle was flowing up and down with the route of the water as if it were a raft. Now and again, the beetles’ legs would rise from the water and slash, and our direction would turn slightly. As we proceeded, the flames from the fire on the rise above diminished, and finally there was nothing but blackness and wetness; the water sloshed against us and sometimes rolled over our beetle. I determined that the creature was able to see in the dark, and was also smarter than it looked. It could navigate between rocks and swells quite deftly. This is not to say that I felt we were safe, or that the beetle was fail proof, but I did decide after a few moments of bobbing up and down in the racing river that we were far better off than we had been moments before.
I don’t know how long we rafted down the river on our beetle, but eventually the creature, perhaps tiring, made landfall. We were exhausted. No sooner had we dismounted and found a place to tie out our mount so that it might graze than we collapsed on the ground and fell fast asleep.
For the next few days we stayed close to the base limb that amounted to our terra firma. We tried to stay out of the trees that grew up from it. Our beetle, though it had the strength to carry the three of us into the trees, wasn’t designed to accommodate comfortably, and securely, more than two for great distances in that manner. No doubt, had we tried to climb with all of us on its back, I would have tumbled off and been squashed into the foliage below.
We didn’t come across any of the other escapees as we went, and I hoped that they, like us, had been fortunate. I can’t tell you exactly how long we traveled. I know that I meant to count days, and did for some time, but eventually lost tally.
I found that much of my time was spent in observing Choona as we rode on the beetle. Her back was all that was visible to me, and sometimes she was in the front of the beetle with Booloo between us. I couldn’t help but stare at her well-shaped shoulders over which her hair tumbled like a waterfall of blood.
When we paused for meals, I observed her as carefully as I could, without seeming to stare. She and Booloo spoke to each other often, but there never seemed to be any overly affectionate moments, which, though they certainly would have had the right to have them, would have pained me as deeply as if a knife were stuck in my ribs. On one hand, I wanted to get away from them because of my feelings, and on the other, I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her luminous presence.
The region we were traveling through, though well wooded, was less thick than where Booloo and I had wandered, and at night there were areas where I could clearly see the sky. One night, after a long day of riding, we stopped to rest and eat. I chewed on a root given to me, and drank juice from a large gourd that I had harvested from one of many trees that held them; the liquid inside was almost pure water, but with a slight taste that I can only equate with lemon. As I ate and drank, I sat and looked up at the alien sky. It was littered with stars, but there was nothing about the constellations that was familiar, and there was a huge moon that floated high up and green as grass. I assumed this was due to the pollen that was a constant in the air here. There were a couple of other moons, smaller, that moved swiftly, zipping by and close together as if in a race. They were a tarnished gold, with a veneer of green about them. These sights were amazing and confusing. But there was also this: the great star that Booloo had shown me, the one he had tried to explain to me, was now very visible, and large to the point of distraction. It glowed red and blue, as if it were an alternating neon light. In clearings, its light, combined with that of the moons, was astonishing. If you looked at the ground (or again, what passed as the ground, the bough of a tremendous tree), you could not only see the fine glow of the moons, but the light from the blue-red star; it lit the place up like a floor show.
As we traveled, I made it a point each night—when the foliage allowed—of locating the star and observing it. I felt as if I acquired strength from it, as well as from the trees, the air, and even the pollen; this world was for me like a personal generator that made me not only strong, but made me agile, swift, and gave me the ability to learn and retain things more quickly than on Earth. And though the days were exhausting, I found that only a few hours’ rest reinvigorated me. Some of this may have been an illusion, but the rest of it was irrefutable. There was another thing. My beard didn’t grow. I was as smooth-faced now as I was the day I entered the machine that tossed me through space and time and nestled me here amongst the world of trees.
I came to anticipate the evenings with enthusiasm, not only because it gave me a chance to study those magnificent heavens, but because Booloo and Choona took it upon themselves to begin teaching me their language. I once had someone tell me that most languages have only about eight hundred words that matter as far as conversation goes, that the other words were adornments, and therefore, if you set your mind to it, a language could easily be acquired. Having tried learning Spanish and Italian, I can’t say that I found this so. But, on this world, with my mental and physical faculties intensified, or perhaps by my actual need to learn the language, I discovered I was a very apt pupil indeed.
I first learned the basics, asking simple questions, and then I learned the names of certain plants, the gourds we drank from, the roots we ate, the plant that could start fires, and so on. Then I began to learn more conversational language. It was done mostly by show and tell.
What I soon discovered was that this world on which I now lived was called Juna, and that the star I was so infatuated with was called Badway de Moola. This, of course, Booloo had told me before, but I had been uncertain then if he actually meant this as a name, or a description of the star. Turned out it was both. The star was called The Warrior Star.
As they explained this to me, Choona reached out and touched my chest. The touch was like an electric shock, so much did I enjoy it. She spoke a few words. They were words I had learned, but it took me a moment to translate them in my mind, and then I got it. She was saying that I was a Son of The Warrior Star. That, she was a Daughter of The Warrior Star, and Booloo was a Brother of The Warrior Star.
It took a moment for me to wrap my mind around that concept, but then I realized that this was a great compliment, and that this was in fact a part of their belief system; the star was their totem, or perhaps, to them, some kind of god.
A few days out and we received a pleasant surprise. Or at least I did. I can’t say that Booloo was as sentimental about the event, and, of course, Choona knew nothing of Butch. But as we rounded a bend in a well-traveled trail, there, on the edge of it, punching a wad of grass, was Butch. His reins dangled and he still had his saddle. I can’t say that I would have known for certain it was him, or it, or her, without those accouterments, but I fancied there was a distinct look on the beetle’s mug that allowed me to distinguish my bug from others, even without that identifiable riding rig. It also seemed to me that Butch was glad to see me. Butch’s presence was certainly a convenience, and gave me a mount of my own, though I was a little bewildered when Choona chose to ride with me.
Chapter Eight
The City in the Trees
Eventually the great limb on which we rode narrowed, and became smaller, more like a spit of earth stuck out over a great chasm. The trees that grew up from the limb thinned and became fewer. Finally there was only the limb, and it was perhaps the width of a dozen football fields. Clouds rolled around us, and above us was the great clear sky, tinted with that faint pollen-green haze. The sun looked like a huge puss-filled blister, but the air was no warmer than before.
Behind us were miles and miles of thick jungle, and rising way above the jungle were the base trees that were the foundation of this world.
Moving toward the tip of the limb on which we rode, we saw a drop of miles. Down below there was green darkness. I was amazed I didn’t feel any shortage of breath or any kind of mountain sickness. Instead, I felt better than I had ever felt in my life.
Looking from our limb, into the great distance beyond the drop, were more forests, and between two of the great base trees on the far side, something glittered like a wet diamond necklace, dotted with blots of silver and gold. I couldn’t make it out exactly, but Choona explained to me that it was a city, Goshon, and it was their home.
In the next moment, we were moving to our left toward the edge of the limb, and when we got there, I saw a great tangle of vines that hung off the edge of the limb and went down, down, down, until they wadded away into the distance.
That was our route. I made sure I was strapped in tight on Butch’s saddle, and down I went, this time riding alone, with Choona seated behind Booloo on their beetle, taking the lead.
We spent the night in the nest of vines. When the wind blew—and th
at night it blew intensely—the great netting swayed like a massive hammock. It might have been a nice way to sleep, had the rain not come, blasting us like a fire hose. For the first time, I felt truly cold.
As morning came, the water was sucked up by the vines, and the air cleared, and turned pleasant. I found that I was drying out quickly. We descended again, and this time Choona chose to ride with me. She put her arms around me as we went, and I glanced at Booloo once or twice, but he seemed not to notice. Perhaps the idea of a mate was different here than on Earth. Which might not be a bad thing, considering on Earth I had injured a rival with a sword over a woman; it wasn’t something I wanted to repeat.
After several days we stopped going down, leveled off, and proceeded across a net of closely interwoven vines that went for miles and was perhaps as wide as five acres. As we rode, the vines swayed precariously, but Butch and the other beetle handled the trail without effort.
Eventually, we came to where we could see the city quite clearly. It took my breath away. What had glistened in the distance had not been diamonds or silver and gold, but the constructs of a wall, and buildings that rose up above it. All of it was made of plants; the assemblies were of twists of cable-like gold- and silver-colored vines, and hardened wood, as bright and shiny as diamonds. We rode on a pathway of flattened gold gourds that served in the same manner as stones. From a distance, Goshon looked not too unlike the fabled city of El Dorado that so many lost souls had searched for back home.
When we were within sight of the city gate, guards from the top of the wall let out a cheer. I was amazed at this reception. The gate lowered and warriors dressed in bright red tunics overlapped with wood-plated armor and helmets poured forth. They went directly toward Choona and Booloo, who had dismounted from the beetles, and dropped to their knees and bowed. Soon the path was full with warriors, and then citizens, dressed in all manner of finery.
Sojan the Swordsman ; Under the Warrior Sky Page 16