Crack! A flash of heat struck their faces when the pannier burst into flames. Tamakh snatched his hands away and toppled over, breathing hard. When his friends hauled him to his feet, they noticed that his robe was soaked with sweat.
"An exhausting task," he said with a sigh.
The fire crackled in the lively air. Nabul whittled strips off a haunch of dried mutton and seared these in the flames. Fat sizzled out of the meat and made the fire blaze higher.
Marix wrinkled his nose. "What is that smell?" he said.
"It's the mutton," said the thief.
Jadira made a face. "No, I smell it, too. Ai! It's awful!"
"I don't smell—"
The rock behind the fire cracked, sending a shower of gritty fragments over them. Everyone scrambled away, dropping whatever they were holding.
"It's getting worse!" said Marix, pinching his nose. The odor was truly sickening—an overwhelming stench of carrion.
The rock wall collapsed, burying the fire and many of their possessions. By the glow of the last scattered embers, they saw that a hole had opened in the stone wall. And within the hole, a circlet of red jewels glowed. A loud rasping issued from the hole.
"By the unholy—! Find a weapon! Find one now!" said Marix.
A claw the size of a lute pushed out of the dark aperture. It opened and closed with a metallic click. A second claw appeared, translucent red like the first. With a flurry of many legs, an articulated body covered in glistening red armor scuttled into sight.
"Scorpion! A giant scorpion!" cried Jadira.
The monster sallied out, aroused by the fire built on its nest. Its deadly tail flexed upward, a stinger as long as a man's arm oozed black poison from the tip.
The tail lashed out at the nearest target, Marix. He slashed at it with his sword, but the armored hide of the monster was too tough. Jadira, though dazed with horror, leaped in and cut at the thing's right claw. The tail plunged at her. Marix shoved her aside, and the stinger met only air.
The last bits of flame winked out, and the battle went on in darkness. Uramettu jabbed from a kneeling position with her spear; Tamakh's cudgel thumped one of the monster's red stalk-eyes. Faced with such determined resistance, the scorpion sidled around and backed away.
"It's going for the donkeys! Stop it! Kill it!"
Marix duelled with the stinger every step back to the tethered donkeys. While engaged with the monster's tail, he failed to keep track of its claws. One clamped hard on his leg. Marix screamed and fell. The tail thrust down—
—and was knocked aside by Jadira's scimitar. Tamakh pounded on the hinge of the claw, but it refused to open. Uramettu, strongest of them all, hobbled forward and thrust the spear point into the thing's palps. A gust of rancid air gushed from the monster. The claw opened, and the scorpion swung around, the spear still buried in its face.
"Nabul! Don't let it get away!" Jadira cried.
"Get away? Get away?" the thief yelled back as the battered monster scuttled toward him. He gauged the distance and let fly his dagger. The point skipped off the armored thorax and the dagger fell harmlessly aside. That was enough for Nabul. He ran. "Get away!"
The others followed behind the scorpion, hounding it with screams and blows. The stinger seemed to have a mind of its own, and it twice swished past Marix, missing by the closest of margins.
The donkeys were in paroxysms of fear. Though blinkered, they were driven mad by the sound and smell of the scorpion. The pegs came loose under their frantic prancing, and all five ran off into the night, traces jingling. Most of the group's supplies were still lashed to the back of the pack donkey. Nabul went scrambling after them.
Its easy prey gone, the scorpion rotated quickly on its jointed legs to face its foes. A fast exchange of claw-snaps and sword-cuts followed.
"How do we kill it?" Marix gasped.
Jadira parried the notched claw and ducked an overhead sweep of the tail. "I don't know!" she said desperately. "It has no throat to cut, no head to strike off!"
Clack! The monster's right claw caught Jadira's blade. She twisted the hilt to free the sword, and the blade snapped in two halfway along its length. As she stared in shock at the sword stump, the stinger bore in like a battering ram. It struck Jadira full in the chest and smashed her to the ground.
"No! No!" Marix dropped his scimitar and threw his arms around the tail. He wrestled against it, trying to withdraw it from Jadira by force. In that moment, Uramettu stepped over the engaged claw and grasped the shaft of her embedded spear. She put all her weight and strength into it. The leaf-shaped head crushed through the monster's mouth. As it gave, Uramettu twisted the shaft right and left, tearing the scorpion's soft guts to pulp. When she finished, the spear was half-buried in the stinking carcass.
Suddenly all was quiet. The monster's tail slowly relaxed and uncoiled. Marix let go and it rolled aside. Uramettu stood on her good leg, coated from neck to knees with reeking brown blood.
Tamakh took Jadira's head in his lap. Her eyes were open, but she could not speak. Uramettu asked calmly, "Is she dead?"
Tamakh put a hand to her throat. "No, but she is paralyzed."
"There must be something we can do!" Marix said.
"If the wound is deep ..." Tamakh did not finish the statement. He didn't have to.
Uramettu knelt and began untying Jadira's sash. "Find the spot," she said. "Find it, and suck out the poison."
Jadira had worn a blanket roll across one shoulder. The stinger had gone through the thick layers of wool, but the blanket had probably saved her from instant death. By the time Uramettu uncovered Jadira's skin, she was still alive, so, obviously, the stinger had only pricked the nomad woman. Yet because of the poison within it, the wound could still prove fatal.
By the indistinct light of the stars, Uramettu found the wound, just above Jadira's navel. "A knife," she said. "Get a knife. Get a stone, a shard, any thing sharp. Now!"
Marix found his broken scimitar. Uramettu used the snapped edge to make two deep cuts over the site of the sting. Blood oozed slowly from the cuts. Uramettu bent over, but Tamakh stopped her.
"You are wounded yourself," he said. "The poison could kill you."
"I'll do it," said Marix. He quickly ducked in front of Uramettu and pressed his lips to the wound. He sucked, drawing in his cheeks.
"Pah!" He spat on the sand and sucked again. "Gah!" And again.
Jadira's eyes closed. Her breath caught, then settled into a shallow rhythm.
"Enough," said Uramettu, after Marix's fourth try. He coughed and turned away. Poison burned in his mouth. He crawled off a short way and was sick.
"If I were in a civilized country like Fedush, I would put a poltice of gopi paste on the wound," Uramettu said. "Here we will have to trust the gods to heal her."
The tinkle of brass announced the return of Nabul. He was leading three of the donkeys.
"I caught some of the scurvy beasts," he said. He halted when he saw the panorama of the dead scorpion, bloody Uramettu, and prostrate Jadira. "Hy the Thirty Gods! Is she all right?"
"She was stung. The strike was not a deep one, but with a scorpion of that size death is an unhappy possibility," Tamakh said. "Did you get the pack donkey?"
"No, I lost that one."
"Have we any food at all?" Uramettu asked.
"Just what each animal was carrying. The water was well divided, but the bread, dates, and cheese were lost."
Marix staggered into view. "Have you been drinking?" asked Nabul.
"Fool, he sucked the poison from Jadira's body," said Uramettu.
Nabul looked from one to another and back again. He went to Marix, who was tottering on his heels. The thief
grasped the nobleman about the waist and brought him to where the others sat. The four companions stayed there the rest of the night, keeping very close and holding Jadira between them.
The Eye of God
Heaven to the nomads is a place of cool air and rain. There the righteous ha
ve honey and cheese to eat, and clean, sweet water flows out of the ground at a command. Jadira could taste the water. It kissed her dry lips and moistened her arid tongue.
She opened her eyes and saw a dark shape above her. "Mitaali?" she murmured.
"Alas, my godhood is still a long time off."
"Who? Marix?" The dark shape laughed gently. "I can't see you," she said.
"It is not a wonder. Until recently, the venom had you deaf, dumb, and blind."
Jadira moved her arms experimentally. Inhaling deeply, she felt a sharp stab in her stomach. She touched the hurt and through her robe felt the cut Uramettu had made.
"Never mind," said Marix, pushing her hand away. Something cold touched her cheek, and water flowed into her lips again. "How is that?"
"Divine," she said.
A second blur joined the first. "She is awake. How do you feel, my sister?"
"Sore. As if I fought twenty of the sultan's soldiers." She put out a hand. Uramettu closed her long fingers over it. "How long have I been unfeeling?" Jadira asked.
"A day and a night," said Marix. He was a bit clearer now.
"And the scorpion?"
"Dead. Uramettu gutted it like a trout."
"I thought I was dead, too."
"So you would have been had Uramettu not known what to do for you."
The black woman responded, "My brother Marix hides his own light. It was he who risked his own life to draw the vile poison from your body."
"Thank you both, my friends." Jadira looked into Marix's blue eyes. She felt his cool hand on her brow and slipped into a gray haze again. The shadows that were her friends merged into the darkness.
When next she knew, the world was blue sky and hot wind pouring over her. She seemed to be swaying in some steady rhythm, side to side. She sat up. The others had rigged a carrier out of blankets and slung it between two donkeys. Jadira grasped the stiff gray hair on the donkey's back and turned her head as far as her aching body would permit.
They were in the high desert. Unlike the lower Red Sands, between Omerabad andjulli, the high desert was completely flat. No dunes of fine, blown sand. No gullies in which to hide from the incessant east wind or the heavy lash of the sun. Her companions strode with leaden deliberation across the hard-packed earth. Uramettu limped. The cleric led the third donkey. Nabul and
Marix walked some paces ahead, their burnooses billowing out to the left in perfect sympathy.
"Hello," Jadira called. "Why doesn't someone else tide for a while?"
The others stopped and came back to surround her. "You're awake!" "You're awake!" "You're speaking!" they exclaimed together.
"Stop the donkeys, will you? I want to stand." Tamakh caught the right animal's bridle. Jadira slid off the blanket and let her feet touch the Red Sands again. A twinge ran through her, but she straightened and smiled.
"As right as new," she said. "Where are we?"
"About six leagues north of the scorpion rock," said Tamakh. "Another day's journey north, and we'll turn west for the mountains."
"Why are there only three donkeys?"
"They ran from the scorpion, but Nabul was quick enough to retake these three," said Marix.
"And the supplies?"
"Two-thirds were lost," said Nabul flatly.
Jadira moved around the donkeys' tails and stood alongside the left one. "What are you doing?" Marix asked.
"I will walk. There's no sense burdening the poor beasts any more than necessary."
"Are you strong enough?"
She pressed her palm to her wound and inhaled. "I am." The others regarded her skeptically. "Any sign of the Bershak?" Jadira asked Uramettu.
"Nothing direct. Our delay at the rock confused them, but finding the fly-infested carcass of the scorpion answered their questions, I'm sure."
They resumed the march. From time to time,
Jadira spied Marix watching her with concern. His attention pleased her for reasons she didn't fully understand.
There was more life visible in the high desert. Wisps of brown wiregrass grew out of the bricklike soil. Flies buzzed, and high above, black vultures wheeled through the cloudless sky. Nabul spotted a cobra once in time for them to give it wide berth. Two injuries were enough.
After reading the stars, Tamakh decided it was time to head west. They walked for two days with the sun rising at their backs and setting in their faces. On the morning of the third day, the incessant wind vanished.
"Wait," Jadira said sharply. "Wait for the wind." It did not resume.
"What does it mean?" asked Marix.
"A severe change, I fear. We must wait to see from what direction the wind returns. If from the north, there will be thunder, lightning, and rain such as mortals seldom see. If from the south, the dust of the low desert will rise to fill the air."
"What about the east?" said Nabul.
She shuddered. "Pestilence. Fever, boils, and death." There were no more questions.
Just before noon, the air stirred. It swirled around from all points, finally settling into a pulsing flow from the south. Hot and dry as a furnace, it made the travelers' ears hum and their skins crack.
"We must find some shelter," Jadira shouted above the rising whistle of the wind.
"Jadira's right," said Tamakh. "We'll wither like dried apples out here if we don't find cover."
"Where?" cried Nabul, gesturing toward the flat land. "Shall we burrow into the earth?" He kicked the baked dirt. "Iron mattocks could not penetrate this!" he declared.
They stumbled on. The press of wind forced them north, in order to keep the blast at their backs. Two notches past midday, Jadira felt a tug on her robe. She turned and saw Uramettu pointing into the wind.
A line of moving figures dotted the horizon. Uramettu's lips formed the word "Bershak!" but the rushing air stole the sound. It was clear what was driving the nomads into the open; several leagues behind them was a wall of brown reaching hundreds of paces up into the sky. Sandstorm. The boiling mass of airborne sand was rapidly overtaking the galloping Bershak. Jadira grabbed Nabul, who warned Marix and Tamakh.
"What can we do?" shouted the thief. The wind had risen from a shriek to a roar.
"There must be a place—somewhere—out of the wind!" called Marix.
Jadira shook her head. "I can't think of any, and we can't outrun a sandstorm!"
Tamakh put a hand in his toga and found the iron key. He shouted a prayer to Agma for help. As he did, they saw the rearmost riders in the Bershak band engulfed by the wall of sand. They disappeared.
"It's coming very fast!" Uramettu said. The little thief was plucked from his feet and blown ten paces like a rootless bush. Marix chased after him and caught the hem of his sleeve. He dragged Nabul back.
All at once, Tamakh flung his hand up and held the key over his head. Jadira blinked. She saw a bright orange halo form around the old key.
"Agma.! Nam at zan!" Tamakh cried. Down came the key to eye level. Holding it stiffly ahead of him, Tamakh
began to walk.
"Where's he going?" Marix wanted to know.
"I don't know, but I think his god is helping us again!" Jadira replied.
They trailed after the priest, the four clinging tightly together and leading the donkeys. The priest marched with quick steps north by west. Nabul glanced over his shoulder. There was no sign of the Bershak, and the wall of sand blown by the storm was only half a league behind them.
Tamakh stopped moving forward, though his feet churned in place. The arm that held the key swung in a wide arc as if seeking a new direction. The orange aura dimmed until the key pointed north by northeast, then it flared brilliantly. Tamakh took off running as fast as his thick legs could carry him.
Suddenly, looming out of the amber haze, were stone columns and a tumbled-down wall. Some of the columns were so broad that Jadira and Uramettu would have been unable to join hands around them. They rose nine paces and their tops were lost in the flying sand. Their sides were pol
ished smooth as glass. Tamakh dashed straight through the broken colonnade and vanished into the maze of ruined walls.
Marix tied the donkeys to a wall that offered shelter from the storm. The companions then set off along the covered corridor in search of Tamakh. The air thickened. Particles of dust and sand sang through gaps in the stones. Here, protected from the fury of the elements, the columns were fluted with deep grooves.
"Tamakh! Tamakh!" Jadira cried. All she got was a mouth full of dirt.
"Holy One! Where are you?" shouted Uramettu. She turned about. Taking Jadira by the shoulder, she said in the nomad woman's ear, "I've lost Marix and Nabul!"
"Where?"
"Somewhere since that last turn!"
"We'll have to go back."
They retraced their steps to an intersection of four walled corridors. The air was completely brown now, and visibility was less than arm's length. Jadira and Uramettu held hands as they moved through the murk. Neither saw the pit Jadira stepped into. All they knew was that the next second, Jadira was dangling in space at the end of Uramettu's strong arm.
Two hands spanned Jadira's waist, mindful of her injury. "It's all right," said Tamakh. "The drop is less than two paces." He dropped her gently to the ground.
Uramettu jumped into the hole after Jadira. ilveryone was there.
"I thought we'd lost you for good," exclaimed Marix, hurrying to Jadira's side.
"We believed the same of you," she replied. "What is this place, Tamakh?"
"In the distant past, this was a temple," said the priest. "Come; let us withdraw into the tunnel out of reach of the storm."
They felt their way about ten paces down a dark, stone-lined passage. The howl of the storm diminished. The choking dust was thinner, but the heat was still stifling.
"I can't see a thing," Nabul complained.
Something rattled on the wall. Uramettu, who could see quite well in the dark, said, "There are torch holders on the walls. If we had a flame, we could light them."
"Tamakh, can you make a fire?" asked Jadira.
Though depleted by his exertions in locating the temple, Tamakh managed to make a spark after several minutes of concentration. A small, smoky flame began in the ancient holder. Tamakh examined the device. It was bronze, and the cup held a black, tarry substance that burned with little heat.
D & D - Red Sands Page 9