Rexrider (First World's End Book 1)

by Mark Angel

  “Wilds. In our territory.”

  “Here?” Tamik suddenly turned pale as he recalled the Seer’s warning.

  “Look at the mud,” he said, taking the reins from his son.

  Tamik looked down to see a plentitude of large three-toed imprints.

  “There’s a large pride of rexes on this side of the river,” Melok instructed. “You can see where they came down on the far bank and came out here.” He pointed down to the game trail leading out of the water. “Look, one of the rexes is missing a toe.”

  Melok then pointed at a series of deep, round holes mixed in among the rex prints in the mud leading up the bank. Half filled with water, they resembled the impressions left by pole-supports for a muster shelter. “Longneck tracks,” Tamik’s father murmured. “The wild rexes are tracking a family of them.”

  Tamik had not even noticed the round prints. He was still trying to determine just how many wilds there might be. “Couldn’t it be another domestic pride of the Western Clan?” he asked.

  “Could be, but none of the Western Clan’s rexes happen to be missing an outer left toe. And Rayak’s behavior seems to indicate that he thinks the tracks are not friendly.”

  At the front of the pack, Rayak-rex had been sniffing the prints. When he finished, he grunted again, a signal for the pride to move out in pursuit. Riders and beasts fell into a tight “V” formation. Almar appeared to be allowing Rayak-rex to go as he willed, and truthfully he did not have much of a choice. Rayak-rex and the pride would do what they had to in order to defend their hunting territory, or die trying. The rexriders could only hold on and try to assist in the fighting, if it came to that.

  Gar held position, two bulls back from point, now in front of Tiga-rex, as the five bulls led the pride. Tamik knew his father’s mount, no longer distracted by crox or interested in making trouble for Rayak-rex, would greet any confrontation—be it with a pride of wild raiders or a herd of longnecks—with great relish.

  Following the fresh trail, they caught up with the invading pride of wild rexes within a few arcs, and the wilds were already upon the longnecks, taking an aged one down. The wild rexes had little forewarning of the presence of the domestic pride, but Rayak-rex’s intention was not a surprise attack. Instead, the Stonehaven Pride charged toward the invaders with confidence. Rayak-rex let out a ferocious roar. The rexriders let loose cacophonous blasts of their battle horns, hoping the racket would drive the enemy off without a fight.

  Startled, the juvenile wild rexes clustered around the prime pair, and as the wild rexes had already taken down a small longneck and another aged one was almost subdued, the she-rexes continued to work at felling the injured behemoth. The adult males turned toward the incoming domestic pride to defend their kill. They were not going to give up their hard earned feast easily.

  “That’s a big pride!” Tamik yelped, as he counted at least ten adult bulls. The domestics were outnumbered, but their disadvantage in numbers was mitigated by the fact that they were generally larger, healthier, and longer lived than their wild adversaries—compelling evidence of the rewards of being tended by rexriders. The body armor and weaponry that augmented the domestics afforded further benefit.

  “The drought in the Interior must be worse than we thought for the wilds to come across the river to hunt,” Melok called over the sound of rushing air and beating feet. He grinned at Tamik. “It’s their bad luck, though, that we happened to be hunting in the same area.”

  Tamik could not recall the last time he had seen his father this excited. The feeling soon infected him.

  As the domestic bulls charged into a full-on confrontation with the wilds, Tiga-rex and the other she-rexes turned their attention toward the hunt. Tamik waved at Tyna as her mount broke into pursuit of prey, lance extended at a full charge. She waved back enthusiastically, her hair flowing wildly out behind her. The sight of her broad smile mixed with the thrill of the hunt, sent his heart pumping faster than he thought possible.

  Each bull-rexrider lowered a lance into attack position, and one of the larger wild bulls charged ahead to engage Rayak-rex. Almar skewered the beast squarely through the chest, and then kicked the lock-pin on the saddle pinion, freeing the embedded lance from the saddle assembly as the enemy fell to the ground. Almar quickly lowered his mount’s remaining lance into fighting position. Rayak-rex sought out the wild pride’s Prime Bull.

  The other bulls began to engage.

  Near a precipice at a bend in the Red River, Ka’tag and his mount Kaved-rex attacked their first adversary with one of their two fixed lances, a risky maneuver so close to the edge of the cliff, but they nonetheless executed the move with skill. The blow was struck with such force that the wild bull toppled over the steep bank, taking the metal tip of the long wooden weapon with him. Giant crox converged on the fallen creature as he twitched to his end, blood churning, adding to the froth of the red waters.

  Pako, on Nef-rex, took out another large bull, only to find himself immediately accosted by three other slobbering brutes. They attacked together, one clenching his massive jaws on Nef-rex’s left haunch and tearing at his flesh, while another mauled the protective saddle hood.

  As Pako hacked at the nose of the wild biting on the hood, Melok directed Gar-rex into the confrontation from behind. Tamik held their first lance in attack position and tapped Gar-rex’s shoulder with his toe to get the beast to hook his foreclaw over the shaft, tucking it firmly under the rex’s armpit. Gar-rex thrust the lance into the ribcage of the bull holding Nef-rex, after which Melok kicked his mount’s hip and pulled back on the reins to get Gar-rex to back up and free the lance from the body of the wild bull. The enemy scurried wounded back across the river, leaving a trail of fluids and gore on the dusty earth.

  It was Tamik’s first battle score. “Ka-pah! We got him, Father!”

  “Good hit, Tamik,” Melok said, remaining vigilant, “we’ll make a rexrider out of you yet.” Pako waved at Melok and Tamik in thanks for coming to his aid. Gar howled victoriously, ready to face the next foe with equal enthusiasm.

  It did not take long. The second wild that had assaulted Nef-rex snarled and turned on Gar-rex, leaving Pako and his mount to face the third alone.

  Growling deeply, Gar-rex challenged the other wild bull, but it successfully dodged the second lance.

  “Take a spear, son. Let’s try to give Gar a bit more of an edge!”

  Tamik drew a spear from the quiver as the two bulls circled one another. He set it in his shoulder sling. When an opportune moment arrived, Tamik kicked Gar’s flank, signaling him to thrust his hip forward. The force of the beast’s movement transferred through the saddle to Tamik’s hip and shoulder, and finally to the spear, launching the weapon with remarkable force. It soared true and struck their aggressor in the neck.

  “Excellent, Tamik!” Melok called over the chaos of the battle, and extended two fingers toward him in a show of satisfaction.

  The wild bull’s wound spewed blood as the monster struggled to pull the weapon free with his small front claws. At that, Gar-rex rushed in and clamped down on the beast’s neck with his jaws, shaking violently. The wild landed a solid kick on Gar-rex’s chest and used the resulting counterforce to help break free, bounding back toward the river. The rexriders held fast to the saddle as they weathered the power of the kick. Gar’s chest armor protected him from the blow.

  Perhaps sensing that he, too, was destined for injury, Pako’s remaining adversary disengaged. Nef-rex briefly gave chase but could not move well due to his new leg injury. He slowly returned to assist with other scuffles where he could.

  Further down the river, on the dry mud, Rayak-rex met another bull who seemed sluggish on his feet, but the fledgling wilds—undoubtedly offspring of the prime pair—were hanging close to this one, indicating that Rayak-rex had finally engaged the Prime Bull. The domestic bull did not circle his wild adversary broadside, as would be the case in natural combat where there was no influence on the beasts by man. In
stead, he faced the foe head on and lunged with lance extended.

  If the wild bull did not already know that the long, strange-looking object on its adversary’s body would cause grievous injury, it learned that now. As Rayak-rex drove hard toward it, it tried to evade the weapon, but the wild’s timing was off. The lance’s sharp metal tip pierced the beast’s belly. It lurched back before Almar could release the lance, and Rayak lost his balance under the force of his enemy’s pull, slipping in the mud. But the wild was too badly injured to counterattack. As it died, Almar noticed something sticking out of the back of the wild bull’s hind quarters.

  The rest of the wild pride soon retreated after seeing their leader fall and hearing his dying howls. The fledglings fled across the dangerous river under the protection of their mother and a few other adults who had hung behind with the Prime Bull.

  While the bulls were facing off, the domestic she-rexes had met tough opposition from the wild she-rexes as they tried to take their share of the fallen longneck. The standoff was a loud and boisterous affair, but the domestic lances skewed the odds substantially, and as victory was stripped away from the wild bulls, the resolve of the wild she-rexes to guard their kill evaporated. Seeing their Prime Bull fall in battle, they abandoned the longneck and joined their cohorts on the distant bank of the Red River.

  Rayak-rex, Kaved-Rex and Nef-rex, the latter now limping, followed the retreating enemy to the banks of the river and roared after them to ensure they did not return. A few final bellows signaled the end to the scrimmage. The invaders had received a deadly message for overstepping their boundaries.

  “Father!” Tamik called, pointing. An injured longneck, an adolescent male, was lumbering toward them in mute nostril panic as it retreated from the onslaught of the domestic she-rexes.

  “Brace yourself, Tamik,” Melok hollered.

  “We can’t take him alone!”

  “Take the reins! It’s my turn to score a kill.”

  Gar faced the wounded herbivore that dwarfed him, backing up tentatively. Melok locked his legs through a saddle brace and lowered the lance on his side into attack position. As Gar-rex hunkered down, the longneck charged right into the weapon as if on a suicide run. The lance struck where the heart was located, but glanced off a rib before penetrating. The impact as the tip lodged home was great enough that it shifted the saddle and knocked Gar-rex off his feet. The heavy butt of the lance splintered with a loud crack. Melok’s leg became wedged between it and the saddle. Gar-rex stumbled back.

  “Move us away!” Melok rasped.

  Tamik yanked the reins and Gar-rex scampered sideways to avoid being crushed by the falling leviathan. It hit the ground and convulsed. The ground shuddered. Its long neck and tail pummeled its final resting place again and again before its life was spent.

  When the dangerous paroxysms finally ceased, Tamik noticed blood on his father’s side of the saddle. A large shard of the lance had pierced Melok’s left leg. The sharp wooden fragment had penetrated right through into the thick saddle.

  “Belly down, Gar!” Tamik commanded, kicking his spurs into the flank of his father’s mount.

  “Damn this leg!” Melok groaned holding his pierced thigh.

  “Mystery, Appa!” Tamik took the soft cloth Tyna had given him during his swordplay and placed it firmly against Melok’s wounded leg for his father to hold. Gar-rex stirred beneath them.

  “Hold still, Gar!” Tamik hollered, and the beast obeyed even though he was hungry and his kill was close. Tamik dismounted and released what remained of the butt of the broken lance.

  “Get me out of the saddle, son, so Gar can go eat.”

  “He can just wait,” Tamik snapped. “We need to stop the bleeding.” Tamik cut a piece of Melok’s tunic with his hip-knife and tied the wide strip of cloth around his father’s upper leg to form a tourniquet. Then he pulled the wood shard out of the saddle hood. But the rest of the sliver still penetrated the rexrider’s thigh.

  Tyna lolloped up and guided Sama-rex around Gar-rex. She pointed at Melok and shrugged inquisitively until she understood the rexrider was gravely injured. She grabbed her medical kit and slid off her mount, releasing Sama-rex. The she-rex eagerly ambled away to feed on the fallen longneck before a more senior rex came to drive her away.

  Gar tried to get up again, anxious to defend his kill from his sibling.

  “Be still!” Tamik commanded, pulling sharply on Gar-rex’s choke collar. Gar-rex got the message and settled back down, grunting in protest.

  Tyna took Melok’s bedroll from Gar’s right saddle pack. She laid it out on the dirt. She and Tamik then moved Melok to the skins.

  “Easy, Melok, we’ve got you,” Tyna said.

  Tamik began to shiver uncontrollably.

  As they lay him down, Melok suffered silently, but then he said as harshly as he could, “Don’t worry about me, boy. Your first duty should be to Gar-rex. Let him feed now.”

  “I’ll look after Melok,” Tyna told Tamik as she bundled material around the wound in an effort to immobilize the long, sharp piece of wood.

  Tamik nodded. He did not want his father’s mount to go without food any longer than necessary, but he had to take Gar and drop the gear in a suitable area for a camp. That decision had yet to be made, but when he saw a creek half a length away, he was convinced that it was the spot—close enough to where his father now lay; far enough away from the kill to be safe from scavengers, and a good distance from the main crox-infested river. He rode Gar-rex there, released the saddle straps and had the rex slide out from under the bulky structure.

  “Go eat, Gar!” He slapped his father’s mount on the haunches.

  Gar-rex sped off to claim his share of his kill. After driving off Sama-rex, he set about tearing off and gulping down huge mouthfuls of flesh. In the meantime, Tamik set up the hutch that would shelter him and his father from the elements until their work here was done, and then walked back to help Tyna tend Melok.

  There are times when success is failure.

  There are times when failure is success.

  In time, you will remember the difference:

  When to succeed and when to fail.

  --Sortan

  11. Feed

  Western Wilderness after meridian, 10/01/1643--

  The rexriders were satisfied with the camp Tamik had established. No one, not even Almar, commented on its lack of shade, which could have been found just over the next hill.

  The place was upwind from the river bank where the recent fighting had taken place, near a small stream that trickled over the cliff into the river basin. A sparse collection of shrubs and bushes was the only immediate vegetation, but there was no shortage of dry dung for fires, evidenced by the black flies that swarmed mercilessly around Tamik’s face. He found them easy enough to ignore as his mind was on his father and the responsibilities he would now assume in the man’s stead.

  He looked after Melok’s injury as best he could, given the remote location, but the reality of their situation made tending to him a secondary concern. There was work that could not wait: the retrieval of bloodied lances; repairs to damaged gear; and, most important of all, the harvesting of longneck carcasses. Undertaking the last task swiftly was especially critical, as it had to be completed before any one of a number of insects had time to lay their eggs in the flesh. It would not take place, however, until the rexes had eaten their gluttonous fill.

  The pride cabbaged kills according to its intrinsic hierarchy. When Gar neared the fallen longneck, he roared at Sama-rex, driving her away. He started at the head and rapaciously chomped his way down the neck. As he gnawed vigorously Rayak arrived and charged aggressively at him to claim his piece. Gar backed off at least for the moment. He joined Sama and Tiga, and like the rest of the less dominant rexes, waited anxiously for another chance to feed.

  Kaved and Nef had claimed the other two mountains of bone and flesh, nearly unhinging their jaws to swallow each enormous bite. When the three most domin
ant bulls were finished eating, the rest of the pride scuffled for their own pieces of corporal property from among the three fallen monoliths. The surviving fledgling, however, was now fearlessly nibbling next to her father, the Prime Bull.

  Eventually the bellies of the bulls grew heavy and distended, and they became lethargic enough that they could barely move away from the kill site, much less lick themselves clean.

  It was time for the females to move in.

  Possessed of excessive hunger due to the delay, the she-rexes charged the remains with a viciousness bordering on crazed. For a time, there was enough roaring and stamping of feet that it appeared feasting in order of dominance, a deeply ingrained social protocol, would be cast to the winds. In the end, the pride submitted to their fundamental tendency toward order. Once all the rexes had eaten, there was still plenty left over for the rexriders.

  Pako, an accomplished lay-healer, did all he could to tend Melok’s wounds. The injured rexrider was resting in the shelter Tamik had set up in the camp circle. Tamik had cleaned Melok’s blood from the saddle, which made up the back support of their hutch. He used their remaining lance as a support beam that slipped through a hole on top of the hood of the saddle; like every lance in the circle, it pointed outward toward the wilderness as part of a defensive perimeter. In place of his destroyed lance, Tamik used a few throwing spears to support the rest of the shelter. Pre-sewn tent skins completed the sturdy, if slightly lopsided, structure.

  Each hutch opened toward the central cook-fire which was stoked with dry wood to give the roasted meat a more pleasant flavor.

  Almar and Tamik were among the last rexriders left at the camp area. From the other side of the camp circle, the lead rexrider pointed over to a pile of dry dung using a combination of shouted words and gestures to communicate with Tamik. “Each perimeter fire needs to blaze brightly throughout the dark time. Scavengers will be abundant. And Mystery protect us if those wild rexes return to reclaim what remains of their kills. Make sure you collect enough dry dung. And then scrape a fire line further out in case we come under attack and have to burn it out.”