by Allan Cole
As I recovered I began asking about the Rift Tribe. There were perhaps two hundred of them living in this valley. They tended to live long peaceful lives. New blood came to the tribe as wandering refugees or, very occasionally, traders who decided to retreat from the world. The people cheerfully gave up their huts and moved in with friends because of the new stories they would hear of the world beyond. The tribes' people lived on the crops planted farther up the valley, where the forest was thinner. They used long, hollowed gourds for piping to run water from springs or creeks to their fields. They hunted the abundant game as carefully as any herdsman decides which animal can be slaughtered without impairing the herd. Once they had kept goats, but they had died a generation ago. Cattle and horses they remembered but dimly from long ago in the past, and they seemed a bit fearful of our asses, who, being the sturdy creatures they are, had recovered instantly from their travails.
The Rift Tribe had come to the Valley many generations ago. In their homeland they had been caught between two great warring peoples, and were doomed. But they had a great wizard, Morning Fog told me, "Powers great... very great... more than me... more than your Shaman... he came from the Far Kingdoms. You have heard of them?"
I could barely restrain my excitement. I called for Deoce and Janos to make sure I would miss none of the questions I now had, and Morning Fog did his best to answer them. Yes, the wizard had been from the Far Kingdoms, a great man who had chosen to leave his world of gold and silk to help others who were not so strong. He had happened on the tribe fortuitously, just after that war began. He volunteered to lead them west, away from the destruction and death that would come.
Janos interrupted - did Morning Fog know how distant the Far Kingdoms were from the tribe's homeland? He did not. Nor did he know just how far the tribe had traveled under the Evocator’s guidance before they came on this valley. "The tales say it was a long, terrible journey," he shrugged. "But since when is any journey not a danger-filled saga, when told around the fire at night?"
I had a question that seemed a bit irrelevant - the refugees and traders he'd told us about earlier - had any of them come from the Far Kingdoms? No, Morning Fog said. In fact, there had been no travelers from the east since before he had been born.
"What," Deoce wanted to know, "do your tales of the Far Kingdoms say? Are they men or gods? Are they good or evil?" That took the rest of the day, as Morning Fog ran through the tribe's legends; and then into the evening, as other older tribesmen and -women were consulted. There was not much we had not already heard about this land of fabulous magi and enormous wealth. There were only two items of note: all of the Rift tribes' legends agreed - the Far Kingdoms were beneficent. Why else would that Great Evocator be as saintly as he'd been? The problem - and Morning Fog said this was most certainly the source of our magickal troubles - was the lands around them, what the Rift tribesmen called the Disputed Lands. It was these kingdoms who'd caught the Rift men and women in the nutcracker of one of their perennial wars.
As for who the Watchers were - no one in the valley had heard of or seen them, and were frightened when we described those ghostly sentinels.
"So, we will travel again into darkness when we leave," Janos muttered.
"You do not have to leave," Morning Fog told us. "There are many young women in our tribe who lack mates. It is legend among our people that this, too, is a gift from the great Evocator, to ensure that travelers who would most likely be male would not upset the balance if they decided to stay on." It seemed as if all of my men had found companions, even if most were able to do little more than sip broth and have their fevered brows wiped. And it was also clear the customs of the tribe were quite open about sex - the tribeswomen changed their partners frequently, and sometimes visited, in pairs with a particularly attractive - or potent - man.
Two of them asked Deoce if, to use their phrase, she wanted to "walk in the moonlight" with them. Deoce pretended to be shocked, but I think she was flattered. Even Cassini was seen to slip into the shadows once or twice with one of the women, further proof that despite my opinion, there had been a human or two in his ancestry over the centuries.
Most astonishing was Janos's behavior. He was like a stag in rut. There was a constant stream of women, sometimes singly, sometimes in groups, giggling their way toward the cottage he slept in - although it would appear he had little time for sleep.
As for myself, I needed no one but Deoce. She was constantly inventive in her love, always fiery, but sometimes coy, sometimes brazen. I busied myself with regaining my strength, even making myself walk, then run a league around the valley rim each day. Then I began running up - and then down, far more painful - the great staircase leading to the outer world. It was a strange time I knew, even then. I felt like we were in a great dome, if one can picture a dome with a glass roof. Above and beyond the Rift, even though the desert sky shone against harsh blue every day, it felt like there was a great storm raging - a great storm we must reenter.
I took Cassini, with the relict, to just below the cliff top several times, and had him chance the spell. Now the Watcher's talisman worked perfectly. Again, we saw the Fist of the Gods, and now there were less of those enigmatic landmarks between where the talisman thought we were and the pass.
I grew increasingly anxious to move on. There was reason for my concern - the season was growing late, and the autumn would be approaching. If the talisman and the vision back in Orissa was correct, we would have mountains to cross before reaching the Far Kingdoms, and we did not need to add snow, ice and storms to our already lengthy list of adversaries. But my men recovered most slowly. I did not wish to winter over, no matter how charming and kindly these Rift people were. At last, I reached an decision. I would split the party. I would leave the sick here. Sergeant Maeen would remain in charge of them.
That left just four. I intended to push on, traveling as fast as we could, for the Fist of the Gods. We would cross the pass; and if the Far Kingdoms lay within reach, return to the Rift. If my men were healed by then, and if we had encountered no obstacles, we would march onward, in the path of the first reconnaissance. If not, I accepted we would have to winter here with our friends. I knew from what soldiers had said that small scouting parties frequently could move faster and more secretly - hence, more safely - than larger groups. But I had also heard tales of how vulnerable such a small party could be, if surprised by enemies.
I also determined that Deoce would stay. Now, many years later, I see I was being foolish - she'd already proven her toughness surviving the slavers, and her tenacity in the wasteland. But... but if she were to die, to die because of my probable foolhardiness in pushing on with only a few... I would never forgive myself. She raged when I told her. What did I think of her feelings, if I were to be abducted... or worse? What would she tell my father when she went to Orissa? How would he be even polite to her if she, daughter of a chief and granddaughter of a great satrap, had let her true love disappear into the wilds? I noticed, while she tore at me, both of us were now assuming we would return to Orissa and remain together. I thought I was being clever when I cut through her angry diatribe, and proposed marriage.
She almost struck me. Instead, she ordered me out of the hut. I could sleep where I would, with anyone I pleased. And as far as marriage... to the hottest and sandiest of afterlifes with you, Amalric Antero. Most of the village had heard our argument, and I found myself greeted with mock sympathy and concealed smiles. I found a small vacant hut, and, brooding over the complexity of women, continued my planning.
Nothing she had said changed my thinking, so it would be Janos, Cassini and myself. I wondered just how I would broach the subject to our Evocator, and did not see a way. He might be as eager for the Far Kingdoms as I was - or had been at one time, anyway. But he might well see such a three-man push as suicidally insane. Besides, he was hardly a boon companion on the road when he could force the soldiers to act as his bodyslaves, and now he would have to carry his own weight. Fin
ally, the man was hardly a soldier - I now considered myself, especially after the foray into the slaver's camp - to be as competent as the least of Maeen's soldiery.
So, it would be just Janos and myself. During the past few days, when I'd struggled with my plan, I'd hardly seen him. He'd been busy with his concubines and, I rather guessed, those mysterious supplies he'd brought from Lycanth. Now, I sought his cottage. From inside I heard chanting, and then moans. I waited until silence had fallen, plus an appropriate few minutes for recovery before I tapped on his doorpost.
"It is?"
"Amalric. Your sometime leader."
"Enter, my friend."
Not knowing what to expect, I did so. I could not have imagined what was within. Incense hung thick in the large main room. All the furniture had been moved out. Hanging on the walls were three parchment scrolls, with symbols I did not recognize. The floor had been covered with white sand. "Drawn" on it, with red-colored sand, was a pentagram, inside a triangle, which was inside a circle. There were seven people in the room. Six of them were women, and the other was Janos. Janos wore nothing but a thin red robe. Five of the women wore nothing but red cords around their waists. They knelt at each corner of the pentagram. They were holding down - actually using no real force - the sixth woman by hands, feet and hair. She was naked. None of them, except Janos, seemed aware of me. I could understand why the sixth was oblivious - she was returning from that far place we go in orgasm, and the sand and pentagram around her hips was roiled. The others seemed entranced, as if taking part in some experience impossibly transcendent.
"It is over, my friends," Janos said softly, and the women's expressions returned to normal. They helped the sixth one to sit up, and someone brought her some wine. They recognized and greeted me. None of them seemed to be even slightly aware of the somewhat bizarre circumstances.
Janos led me to another room. "I fear the remains of our pleasures might prove a bit distracting," he said dryly. "What brings you here?" he wanted to know. "I would have thought you and Deoce would have been... finding your own heavens by this hour."
I didn't tell him Deoce and I were currently not recognizing each other's existence. I did tell him of my decision. He reached up, and touched the figurine of the dancing girl that hung against his naked chest.
"Interesting," he mused. "A small party, intending to spy out the land. Amalric, sometimes I think you would have made a better Frontier Scout than a rich merchant."
I thanked him and informed him I wanted to leave within a day or two, as soon as we assembled dry provisions and weaponry.
"Ah," he said, and it suddenly appeared to me as if he had lost interest in our quest, lost interest in everything except whatever he was now occupied with. "Yes. We should go. But we should choose the hour, and day of our leaving carefully. Perhaps," he said, his voice sounding most vague, "perhaps we should have our Evocator cast runes, for the most propitious time. Or, perhaps it might be wiser that we do wait until the men are well. Consider this, Amalric. Neither of us have become ill, but that is hardly a guarantee we will not. I would hate to be back of beyond and fall prey to whatever ailment has been dogging us. I think my friends in the other room would be far better nurses than you."
I started to snap something, but stopped myself. "I see." I stood. "It would appear I caught you at a bad time. We will talk further on this. Tomorrow." Trying not to appear a angry, and certainly failing, I left.
I might have grown angrier, had I chance to brood, but Deoce was waiting for me in my bachelor's hut. It matters not what was said, nor what tears were shed. Lovers mending a quarrel are only of interest to the two star-struck ones, and either boring or disgustingly sentimental to everyone else.
Janos was waiting for me at dawn, when I stumbled out to make my ablutions. He apologized profusely. He had no idea what had gotten into him, except, well, perhaps if I remembered his friends, I might forgive him. Of course we would make the scouting expedition. It was a brilliant plan. We could realize the dreams of our life after traveling just a few hours and a few leagues, or so he hoped. We would leave this day, if I wished. Assuming I still wanted a fool and a sloth for company. I laughed. As if I myself had never been confronted with and rejected a good idea at an... inappropriate moment.
Now I could sense the Far Kingdoms, taste their perfume, and feel their riches run through my fingers like a crazed miser and his bags of gold.
Two days later, carrying light packs and dry provisions, Janos Greycloak and I struck out for the Fist of the Gods.
* * *
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE FIST OF THE GODS
Our march lasted longer than the few hours and leagues than my friend had led me to believe. Janos laughed, and said this was a valuable lesson for me, one any good leader of soldiers should learn. You must never tell a ranker any distance is greater than five leagues to avoid ruining his spirit. Five leagues at a time, he told me, and you can conquer the world.
We traveled fast, much faster than we had even at the beginning of our journey when we struck out from the Pepper Coast. But we moved as circuitously possible: skirting open areas if we could; and if we could not, we carefully checked for signs of danger before leaping from cover to cover. Our night camps were fireless - our cooking was done with dry wood at midday, and the food eaten cold for supper that night and breakfast the next morning. Our travels were also slowed by my insistence on map-making. For Janos, it would be enough to discover the Far Kingdoms. I must be able to return time and again; and, more importantly, instruct my traders as to the routes they would follow.
The rolling hills became foothills, leading toward the mountains in the distance, mountains that never seemed to be any closer. Cassini had reluctantly taught Janos the spells necessary to evoke the Watcher's talisman, and we took our first "sighting" three days travel beyond the Rift. That was our first mistake. The talisman showed we were exactly on the route we wished, and the Fist of the Gods lay directly in the line of march. But it was less than two hours after the incantation I suddenly felt someone... or something, was looking for me. It was a feeling, I realized, that had been with me since before the Shore People had abandoned us, and even Cassini's spell on the river had not shaken it.
The only time it had been absent was in the Rift. I felt I was thinking foolish thoughts, and so Janos was the first to bring it up. He, too, had the sensation. At first, he compared himself to a rabbit, somehow realizing a hungry hawk is soaring overhead, or Cassini's idea of a great fish drifting in its pool. Then he corrected himself - he did not feel the Searcher, if it was anything beyond a figment, was necessarily evil. But neither did he feel any benevolence. Whatever it was, was just... interested in us.
It was that day we saw the Watchers again. Two of them sat astride their mounts on a hill crest not far away. When we saw them we were just coming out of a grove of trees. I might have continued on, ignoring them as we had earlier, but Janos stopped me. Without a word, he motioned me down, onto the ground, hidden by some brush.
"You are a deer," he whispered. "Think like one." I thought he was sun-touched, but did my best, not sure what he meant. I knew little about the life of a stag, so remembered the ones I'd seen on the trail, and tried to think of their possible concerns. My thoughts kept straying to the horsemen on the hill crest, and somehow I knew this was not good; although to not think of the Watchers at this moment was like telling someone to not think of the color red. A few moments later Janos tapped me to sit up. He indicated the hill crest - the Watchers had gone.
"I do not like this," he said. "We do not know what, if any, intent the Watchers have. Nor do I know that we are their targets. But I fear the worst - we have not seen them lately; but just after we use the talisman, they reappear. I am hardly forgetting the relict belonged to one of them, and like will always attract like, in sorcery or in life. We must use the talisman as little as possible, if I am correct. We do not wish to draw any attention to ourselves now."
I personall
y thought it to be too late, and hardly coincidental the Watchers appeared on a hill athwart our route just before we passed; but Janos's caution could do no harm. From that moment we exerted even greater care when we moved, and, for the next day or so afterward, tried to never show ourselves on the meanest skyline, to make sure we crossed any stream using rocks rather than leave prints in the muck of the bank, and to never choose the natural and easiest path.
We encountered ruins. The first was a circular stone fort. It had not been abandoned, but had fallen by storm - the huge timbered gate had been torn away and lay many feet from the entrance. All timbering, whether roofs or support beams, was charred. The fort had been put to the torch by its conquerors. Now I understood why Janos had insisted on Cassini's potential importance - I would have liked to have known whether the soldiers who held the post were taken in fair battle or by sorcery. However, since neither vines nor weeds had overgrown the outpost, and the battle looked to have been fought many years ago, I felt the presence of a wizard on that grim day. At least, from the dimensions of portals and stairs this land had been settled by people of human size, rather than giants. We did not use the ruins for shelter, but passed on quickly.
That fort might have been a border outpost, since the ruins became more common. I asked Janos how long it had been since war came to these hills. He said he did not know exactly, but he thought not in his lifetime. Outside one burnt village we heard baying, and saw, across a hill, a pack of dogs chasing a multi-striped antelope. The dogs were of many varieties, which indicated they were feral, not truly wild. A farming tribe, such as these people would have been, do not abandon their dogs willingly.
Next I found, just inside one ravaged hut, a small, hand-carved horse, the sort of thing a father might carve for his son. No child will ever abandon a plaything unless it is ruined - or unless he is dragged away from it. I felt soldiers had come to this hamlet, and taken away everything of value, including its people. No one had time to flee, unlike our friends of the Rift. The "Disputed Lands," if we had indeed entered them, were well named.