Nuworld: The Saga Begins

by Lorie O'Clare

  Dr. Digo showed Darius he did have a backbone when he turned and gave the lord his attention. “She shouldn’t be in this environment. It’s not good for the baby.” He then turned and looked at Patha. “While Tara has always been good about ordering ladies in her command to step down when field maneuvers become dangerous for the unborn child, I detect confusion in her. I fear you will have to remind her it’s time to remove herself from the battlefield.”

  Patha and Darius looked at each other and left the trailer. Neither one looked forward to implementing the doctor’s advice.

  * * * * *

  Tara awakened the following morning and realized Darius was not next to her. They’d made love most of the night, and she’d overslept. She had hesitated the night before in telling Darius about her visit to the doctor. And he’d appeared to be preoccupied. Now, he had left without waking her, and she had no idea where he had gone.

  She lay there a moment trying to convince herself to get up. She felt absolutely exhausted and merely wanted to sleep several more hours. Tara knew the time had come to remove herself from the battlefield, but she had responsibilities here. Of course, several good candidates existed to take over her duties. But damnit, she wanted to be amidst the action.

  Tara jumped to her feet when a sudden large explosion rent the air, causing the very ground beneath her to quake. Screams and the sound of running footsteps permeated her tent from every side. Instinct took over, and Tara dressed in a flash, hobbling to the entry as she shoved the second boot on her raised foot. Another explosion rocked the ground before she got out of the doorway.

  “Darius,” Tara shouted, struggling to wrap her comm around her ear. “Where are you?” She left the tent and jumped on her bike. “Shit,” she howled as another explosion shook the ground.

  Tara slowed her bike when she reached the middle of camp, joining several soldiers squatting behind large barrels of water. “Report!” she yelled through the noise and understood when none of her Runners looked at her. Their eyes were on the sky.

  Tara’s comm beeped, and she slapped at the small button to activate it. “Yes,” she yelled over the dim.

  “The Sea People sent five aircraft out about twenty minutes ago,” one of Tara’s commanders shouted in her ear. “We got one of them, but the others should be flying over you within minutes.”

  “I can see two now.” Tara squinted at the dark gray cylindrical objects in the sky. She didn’t see the other two.

  “They’re coming back around,” the Runner next to her yelled, as she jumped behind the Gothman who squatted with an Eliminator resting on his shoulder. Both Gothman and Runner soldiers were equipped with the powerful Runner weapon, which was more than capable of destroying the aircraft flying overhead.

  “On my mark, fire,” Tara ordered. She quickly moved aside to give the Gothman space, knowing what kind of kick the Eliminator had. She waited for the two planes to come within range.

  “Fire!” Tara yelled.

  The Gothman pushed the large button on the side of the Eliminator, and then fell backwards as a zinging sound pierced the air. Tara didn’t focus on the Gothman, but turned her attention to the sky and the two dark gray crafts now shadowing the ground.

  “Take cover! Take cover!” Someone screamed, but the advice wasn’t needed.

  “It’s a direct hit!” The Gothman next to her let out a whoop of excitement then immediately ducked.

  “Excellent,” Tara whispered as one of the crafts suddenly rippled with fire, distorting as she watched. Burning fragments separated from the craft and began twirling to the ground. The second plane wasn’t hit, and it fired on the camp.

  The ground exploded around them.

  Tara grabbed the Eliminator from the Gothman, who had let it go limp in his arm and aimed at the craft as it hovered over them. She fired and the plane exploded. She couldn’t tell if there were more planes—the flames and smoke from the multiple explosions around her made it difficult to breathe and see.

  “Tara! What’s going on?” Darius’ voice came through her comm.

  “Two crafts are destroyed. Where the hell are you?” Tara coughed as charred metal hit the ground burning, and black smoke filled the air.

  “Help!” someone screamed.

  Tara stood quickly and then balanced herself as a wave of dizziness consumed her. This is no place for a woman in your condition, a little voice chided her. She couldn’t do anything about that now. Runners with spray packs on their backs began hosing down the isolated fires. The water turned the black smoke to gray as it filled the air.

  “Where are you?” She put her hand over her mouth and nose as waves of smoke consumed her.

  “We’re at the edge of the Blood Circle camp. The Sea People have attacked down here, but we’re holding our ground, we are. But what about you, woman? Patha tells me the landlink shows you took some hits. I don’t want you in the middle of that, no.”

  “We brought down two crafts. All is under control. And I’m fine. But what about you? Are you okay?” Tara coughed again and ignored the curses she heard through her comm.

  Her comm beeped again, and she reached for the thin wire that ran along her cheek from her ear to her mouth. “Stand by Darius,” she said.

  “What?” he barked. “Like hell—”

  But she cut him off with a sigh, regretting that when she saw him next his first words would be a reprimand. “Tara here,” she said as she acknowledged the new call.

  “Frig here, Tara,” one of the Runner soldiers she had known since childhood responded. “We’ll have these fires out in no time. I’ve got a medic team reporting only three wounded.”

  “Thanks, Frig.”

  The attack only lasted a few minutes, but it seemed as though hours had passed. Even though casualties had been few, the soldiers were shaken, and the campsite was partially burned, but functional.

  “Darius, were you hit hard?” Tara waited a long minute before his deep baritone swam through her senses. She wanted to know if he was injured, and if Patha was okay, along with the rest of her family. Darius would view that as a sign of weakness, however. So Tara kept her comments pertaining to the issue at hand.

  “A few casualties. Prepare yourselves. More crafts have been spotted!” He sounded stressed.

  Tara could guess that any warrior would be anxious under pending attack, but she couldn’t help but hope he wanted to be at her side as much as she wished she were with him. “Acknowledged,” she said simply and shut off her comm after hearing the termination on Darius’ end.

  Tara left the minimal protection offered by the water barrels and moved her way through the active camp. She tapped her comm again and addressed Frig. While she could see him instructing several Gothman, he stood too far away to hear her without the device. “We have more crafts headed our way.”

  Frig indicated he understood, and she watched him gesture to several soldiers surrounding him. “Several of my best warriors are armed with Eliminators,” he told her. “We’ll have the Sea People out of the sky before they are able to attack this time.”

  “Make sure of it.” Tara felt a wave of energy surge through her from the enthusiasm in Frig’s tone. Well-trained warriors lived for the battle. They fought for a just cause, and Runners and Gothman would be triumphant. Tara held her head high as she continued working her way through the camp toward her bike.

  Daylight could not penetrate the smoke and dust swirling around them. By mid-afternoon, the sky remained a dark gray, and black clouds created from burnt rubble and campfire smoke, hung heavily.

  Visibility was so poor, Tara could barely distinguish forms of the people around her. The trees outlining the camp were completely obscured. She was forced to guide the soldiers’ movements with the aid of her landlink, which she’d found in her tent, unharmed and lying on tossed bedding. Absentmindedly, she’d noted that although the tent interior remained dark, she could see about the space with far more clarity than she could see outside.

  Tara
spotted a group of Gothman soldiers through the murk and approached their leader. “What are your orders?”

  “Preparing to search the surrounding area, them’s the orders.” The Gothman only half-turned to acknowledge Tara, an act to which she’d grown accustomed with many of the Gothman.

  “The area surrounding the camp?” Tara wondered if someone had picked up movement, and she hadn’t yet been told. “Who gave you your orders?”

  “Lord Darius.” This time the Gothman didn’t even turn when he answered, but instead signaled his men to begin their search.

  “Darius?” Tara asked after tapping her comm.

  “What do you need?” Are you okay?” The concerned sound in his tone made Tara want to tell him she would be better if she were at his side.

  “Have you spotted movement surrounding the camp? Why wasn’t I notified?” She heard mumbling through her comm and surmised Darius was speaking to someone with him.

  “Your landlinks show no activity,” Darius said after he finished talking to whomever he was with.

  “Then why did you order men to search the area?” Tara waved at the Gothman leader to halt his men.

  He only appeared mildly interested in her gesture, and didn’t stop his men.

  “To make sure the area is secure.”

  “Tara, we’ve spotted the crafts!” Frig waved frantically from several tents’ distance, and then turned to acknowledge several soldiers approaching him.

  Tara’s comm beeped in her ear. “Darius, order your Gothman soldiers to cease their search. It’s a waste of manpower.” Tara barked the order, suddenly frustrated with the man for not trusting Runner equipment and belittling her authority by issuing commands she didn’t know about.

  She hit the small button on the silver stem of the comm to acknowledge the next call, cutting Darius off in mid-rebuttal.

  “Eliminators are ready,” a Gothman yelled in her ear.

  Tara ran back to her bike, ignoring the stitch that ran from her lower abdomen down her leg. She started the bike with one hand and moved it slowly while attaching her landlink to the handlebars. “When you have them in target, fire,” she ordered, deciding to monitor the attack inside one of the nearby Runner trailers.

  An explosion shook the ground, and people flew from a location not too far from Tara’s right.

  “One of the crafts has a different type of artillery on it,” one of her commander’s reported through Tara’s comm.

  “Get those blasted things out of the air!” Tara yelled over the growing confusion around her.

  Another explosion shook the ground.

  Tara was forced to stop her bike when several Gothman bolted in front of her. Then she heard the zinging sound of an Eliminator. “Yes!” she hissed, eyes riveted to the sky as one of the crafts rippled and burst into flames.

  She moved around barricades and soldiers issuing orders until she reached the spot where two warriors stood next to each other, aiming Eliminators at the second craft. Tara stopped again, jumping off her bike to stand as close as she dared to the marksmen, watching the sky the whole time.

  The second craft turned to flame.

  “I want a report of damages,” Tara continued issuing orders through her comm as she mounted her bike and headed with more speed to the nearest trailer. The ground explosions billowed smoke, and the stench of burning metal, rubber and human flesh turned her stomach. “Get this camp in order and prepare for any further attacks.”

  Over the next few weeks, the Sea People challenged the Gothman borders, but Gothman and Runners managed to keep them at bay. Tara remained in charge of the Gothman camp, even though many still challenged her command.

  Patha and Darius began to bond, as Patha assumed the role of mentor. Tara knew Patha looked ahead to a time after his death, when she and Darius would rule both races. To this end, Patha considered it his highest priority to train Darius, to help him understand the Runner way.

  It was late in the evening when Tara ventured to the front line to see Patha and Darius. The rocky ground jostled her bike, and when she stood after riding, mild stitches shot down her legs from her pelvis. Knowing the discomfort came from overworking the muscles holding her baby in place, she stood still until the bits of pain subsided and she could walk without discomfort.

  As she glanced about her at the busy clan site, now turned into a military operation on the front line, Tara saw Patha and waved. Idly, she noticed that he appeared to stop speaking into his comm as soon as he saw her.

  Flicking off the device, he waved back, and after saying something to the Runner he was with, began walking toward her, smiling. His smile warmed her.

  She narrowed the distance between them as quickly as she could, taking care not to jolt her body as she stepped on uneven ground.

  “It appears we’ve a break in the action. The report I received this morning showed the Sea People have regrouped and returned to their camp.” Patha looked tired as he greeted his daughter.

  “And how are you doing?” She slid her arm around his and walked into the camp.

  “I’m fine Tara-girl, just fine.” Patha chuckled and patted her arm. “Darius and I plan on preparing our next method of attack today. You’re just in time. Come to my trailer.”

  * * * * *

  Patha had noticed how his daughter’s pregnancy had progressed when he’d first spotted her. Tara’s rounded tummy stuck out, noticeable from her otherwise thin frame. Even with her jacket on and her face covered by her headscarf, he could tell she was feeling the stress of the growing child inside her. She stepped gingerly over the rough ground. He didn’t think she noticed how he supported her over the small ditches that had been created from the heavy jeeps driving over the ground daily.

  “We’ve three more clans arriving from the east, we do,” Darius said, without looking up as Patha and Tara entered the newly converted main headquarters.

  * * * * *

  Darius sat at the landlink reviewing incoming transmissions from his commanders and a newly arrived clan, the Kill Water clan. He responded with orders, telling the clan where to set up camp. Then he turned to look at Tara. As she tossed her jacket on the back of a chair, he immediately noticed bones showing at the top of her shoulders. He stood and removed her headscarf without asking.

  She smiled and stared into his face, and he watched her blue eyes search his features before meeting his gaze. Dark, puffy circles rimmed her eyes in a gaunt face. Her skin looked gray, partially from lack of sleep and partially from dirt and campfire smoke. She smelled of the smoke and anti-inflammatory powder. There was also the familiar stench of dirty clothes, body odor, blood and wet dirt; common smells of warriors during battle.

  It struck Darius that he still found her incredibly beautiful. He reminded himself of his promise to relieve her from duty. A promise that now had to be carried out.

  “Sit, Tara, have something to eat.” Patha guided her into a chair at the round table, which sat to one side of the spacious living area.

  * * * * *

  Tara complied and felt a wave of exhaustion ripple over her. Holding up her head with her hands, she ran fingers through her hair. She was not thinking clearly and guessed fatigue was taking over quickly. A few hours’ sleep and a hot shower and she was sure she would be good as new.

  “I can help.” Tara stood again. She started to move toward Patha, who pulled food from the small cold box where perishables were stored.

  “Sit.” Darius stopped her with a hand to her shoulder and guided her back to her seat.

  “This looks so good.” Tara eyed the sliced meat, smoked boar with the fat trimmed, and cold duck legs. Several chunks of cheese were still wrapped in a thin, almost transparent cloth. She reached for a vine of grapes when Patha put a bowl of fruit on the table.

  She ate the food put in front of her with a vengeance.

  “The Blue Horn clan reports all units are ready for battle,” Darius said with his mouth full and a duck leg in his hand.

  “Go
od. I want all clans to report in before the end of the day.” Patha used the silver utensils he’d brought to the table and sliced his boar, then added a chunk of cheese. “Something to drink, Tara-girl?”

  Patha leaned back to a wooden counter with stone top, which divided the living area from the kitchen. He grabbed a ceramic pitcher, then poured iced grape juice into a mug.

  “Thank you,” Tara said between bites. She took the mug and sliced a thick chunk of cheese from the block Patha had unwrapped.

  * * * * *

  Darius still pondered how to bring up the conversation he needed to have with Tara. He was not looking forward to the fight he would have on his hands when he relieved her from duty. And he’d had time to think about it. Patha had broached the subject when he contacted Darius upon seeing Tara arrive at camp earlier. He’d told Darius it was his duty to take her out of the fighting and made it clear he needed to do it now.

  Darius felt he’d learned more from this old man than his papa had ever taught him. Indeed, Lord Jovis had never instructed him in much of anything. In return for his tutelage, Patha demanded a loyalty that he was glad to give. Now, the old man had more or less given him a direct order, and it was not a pleasant one.

  “Don’t let those clans dawdle in getting their updates to you.” Patha waved his silver eating tool, a gift Tara had given him when she’d been a child, and then he pointed it at Darius. Its silver tip, similar in style to a knitting needle but with a sharper end, had remnants of cheese on it. “If all clans haven’t reported in within the next few hours, send them notice they need to have all pertinent info relayed before sundown, or they’ll receive the last available slots when I position everyone for battle.”

  Patha slid his chair from the table, then stood and patted his belly.

  “Are you leaving? I’ll walk with you,” she said, grabbing a vine of grapes and starting to stand.