Rexrider (First World's End Book 1)

by Mark Angel

  “Good move old man!” Almar called out over the noise.

  With blood now drawn by both, the action became more frenzied; the crowd more intense and vocal. The beasts scratched and clawed at the ground and each other. They flung dirt with tail and talon. Suddenly, Gar leaped sideways, spun around, and struck Rayak in the face with his tail. Rayak pivoted and bit down on Gar's tail prompting Gar to turn full circle using the tail hold as leverage and lunge at Rayak with his right hind-claw while balancing on his left foot.

  “Gar’s youth and physical endurance may work to his advantage,” noted Pako.

  Rayak released Gar’s tail, throwing the younger rex off balance, and then reared back on his own tail and slammed into Gar with his chest and foreclaws, knocking him over and landing squarely on top of him. The perimeter wall again shook. The delight of the crowd contrasted with the grave looks that had befallen Gar’s riders.

  Gar rolled again, kicking dry dirt up to keep his enemy at bay and scrambled away from the wall. The ensuing haze clouded the immediate area. This temporarily obscured the view of the onlookers, but they still heard the snarling and scratching sounds of the fray. Ruko could almost see the tiny bumps of excitement on the skin of the crowd. When the air cleared, everyone’s attention was more sharply focused than ever on a spot a few strides away from the wall.

  Rayak mawed for a terminal grip from a position on top, but then, with a mighty upward thrust, Gar kicked his father in the chest and whipped his tail around to trip the older beast. As Rayak went down heavily, Gar rolled his massive body over onto his fallen adversary and the two thrashed, wrestled and struggled for several fingers before Gar got hold of Rayak’s throat with his drooling jaws and pinned the Prime Bull to the ground. As if suspended in time, the two rexes then fell still. A collective gasp went up from the crowd.

  “What a move!” Tamik shouted.

  Tyna threw her arms around Tamik’s neck and aimed a kiss toward his parted lips. He turned his head slightly and her kiss landed on his cheek. She released his neck brusquely, burying her chin in her palm.

  “Is it over?” Pirlan quietly asked, inviting a harsh look from Tyna.

  “It’s only over if the pride abandons their Prime Bull,” Almar said with subdued authority, and then added disdainfully, “It’s almost as though the old guy didn’t want to win.”

  Anger flashed through Tamik. He turned toward Almar, “What kind of excuse for losing is that supposed to be?”

  “The others are moving in,” interrupted Melok. His tone of voice made it clear that Tamik should leave off Almar and pay attention to the happenings below.

  The apparently victorious young bull slowly shifted into a more upright position, moving both hind legs under him to fortify his stance. He then placed his left hind claw against the base of Rayak-rex’s jaws.

  Seeing Melok and Tamik suddenly look quite grim, Ruko asked in a hushed voice, “Gar has Rayak. Doesn’t that mean he’s won?”

  “‘Winning’ and ‘losing’ are not such simple terms.” Rudanomi answered quietly. “Much is at stake here and it is not yet played out.

  Their eyes returned to the scene below them where Tiga was making a series of chirping and grunting noises as she slowly approached the combatants. Her head darted up and down, and then she turned it sideways to expose her throat to Gar.

  “She is pleading with Gar to spare her mate,” Tyna observed.

  Gar looked from one rex to the next, and then to the next, lingering especially long on Kaved-rex and even the older Nef-rex.

  “He’s looking for indications that the sanctioned bulls will submit to him and support him, and which, if either, he might have to fight,” Pako explained to the boys. “This is where it gets dangerous. Gar is tired and if another bull attacks, he may tear Rayak’s throat out before commencing another duel, to keep the Prime Bull from stepping back into the fray and reasserting his role as leader.”

  Melok nodded in concurrence.

  “Gar doesn’t stand a chance unless the others accept his Primacy,” Almar added but with no pride in his voice.

  “Here comes Kaved,” Tamik said, pointing at the strongest of the sanctioned bulls. Like Rayak, Kaved was older and larger than Gar, but still well within his prime. As he moved from the shadow of the wall into the sun where the two other bulls were frozen in place, he twitched his tail.

  “If he shows his loyalty to Gar, others likely will,” Melok added.

  “Why doesn’t he fight for Primacy against Gar now? Couldn’t he take over the pride?” Pirlan asked, but no one answered.

  K’tag placed his hand on Almar’s shoulder as his bull moved in and sniffed the head of Rayak, licking a taste of blood from his old sovereign’s wound. The Prime Rex’s eyes were trained on his long time ally.

  The tense silence atop the wall was broken by Melok’s whisper. “Kaved can still turn Gar’s victory into defeat by attacking the young bull where he stands. Mystery help us if he does. And if Rayak survives the exchange, Kaved still wouldn’t make Prime Bull,” he added as an aside to Pirlan. “He has always owed his allegiance to Rayak, at least up to now. The loss of both fledglings in their last brood hit the Prime Pair and the pride especially hard. He may be ready to shift allegiance.”

  Kaved moved cautiously behind Gar, who watched suspiciously and continued to adjust his grip on the neck of his opponent, dragging Rayak along as he backed away from Kaved. The sanctioned bull did not attack. Instead, he moved in beside the victor, slowly and submissively. He began to lick the bleeding wounds on Gar’s neck, an indication he would submit to the younger bull’s dominance.

  With an audible sigh of disappointment, Almar released his breath, and then headed down to his mount’s stall. As he went, several pouches of tender were passed to him. It was customary for a rexrider to bet heavily on the other beast. If he had won, he would have lost a lot of cubeage, but remained home. As the loser’s rider, he now had extra money to get him by in his forthcoming wanderings.

  When the crowd took measure of what had occurred, loud cheers matched by almost equally loud groans of disappointment that arose from the promenade. Much legal tender would change hands among the gamblers this turn.

  "He's won now, Appa, hasn't he!" Ruko cheered loudly. Pirlan cheered with at least equal enthusiasm.

  "People’s lives are about to change," Rudanomi said, quieting his son, "good people, and perhaps not for the better. Almar's has just lost his home,” he nodded in the man’s direction. “For more than half a cycle, he’s been Rayak’s primary rider; now he will have to uproot his family. Do you wish to celebrate that?”

  Ruko looked over at the other rexrider.

  “Better him than us,” Melok mumbled.

  Tamik smiled ever so slightly toward Almar and said, speeking more to the other rexrider than to Ruko, “All in the nature of the pride, boy.”

  “Watch Gar look at the other rexes as they move past,” Melok pointed out, turning his son’s attention back to the details of the exchange of power. “Watch the expression in his eyes change.”

  “Kaved will fight for him, now,” Pako said, then looked down at his own mount. “I sure hope Nef doesn’t have any bright ideas. I’ve already lost enough cubeage on this last round.”

  “Now look how he watches the others,” Melok added.

  “He has fire in his eyes.” Tamik said intensely. “He’s full of pride and the arrogance of victory. Primacy!” he couldn't hide the pride in his voice. “He’s finally attained it!”

  “And now your father will be the Speaker for the Order of Rex.” Pako said with a tenor of sobriety.

  “Appa,” Ruko pulled on Rudanomi’s sleeve. “It’s the skywatcher.” He pointed at the figure of a woman several strides down the wall as he spoke. Though veiled by her black, hooded cape, she appeared to be staring at Tamik.

  Rudanomi cupped his hand around Ruko’s finger, gently redirecting the boy’s arm downward. “One should not point like that, son.”

  “W
hy is she here?” Tamik asked sharply.

  “Maybe she just wanted to watch,” Tyna suggested.

  “No!” Tamik said in a harsh whisper. “What does she want from us? I want to know! She’s looking right at me!”

  The skywatcher turned away as if she had heard Tamik over the raucous crowd.

  “Silence yourself.” Rudanomi reprimanded the young rexrider quietly but sternly, his eyes still on the skywatcher. “It ill becomes you to behave like this. I assure you, it is nothing of your concern. If you wish to spin dung out of the gold this victorious turn has brought your kin, I suppose that is your prerogative, but please do it quietly.” Rudanomi then added, “Do not forget, rexrider, how little we know about this skywatcher.”

  Though disgruntled at the skywatcher’s presence, Tamik had to fight back a small grin when the teller referred to him as a rexrider. He was beginning to like the way it sounded. He turned his attention back to the last part of the drama unfolding below.

  Gar-rex slowly released Rayak’s throat, but kept his eye on the defeated beast, who struggled slowly back to his feet and shook his head, spattering blood on nearby animals. He was breathing heavily as he backed away from Gar, seemingly resolved to his fate. Gar let out a deafening roar toward the former Prime Bull that modulated throughout and beyond the audible spectrum, causing Pirlan to hold his belly and again take refuge behind a crenellation.

  “Mark that call, Tamik,” Melok instructed. “It’s Gar’s victory cry and it will be the same in every battle he will ever fight. It will identify him to all rexes who hear it.”

  This time Rayak cowered at the younger bulls sound, and sulked off alone in a northerly direction toward the Fen Woodlands. Almar reappeared just outside the gates carrying some riding gear and a heavy travel pack. The rexrider now ran through the outer paddock after his mount, calling for Rayak to wait for him. Girth strap and harness assembly in hand, he carefully kept his distance from the other rexes in the pride, destined to ride bareback to wherever his mount could find refuge.

  “Get down there and bring Gar back inside,” Melok directed Tamik. “Be careful, he’s full of himself right now and you must show no fear or hesitation in directing him. And you’ll have to tend to his wounds, he won’t let anyone but us touch him until his fires cool.”

  “I’m just glad I’m not the one running after my mount,” Tamik said, as he turned to obey his father.

  Pako glanced at Melok and said aside, “Did he just refer to Gar as ‘his mount’?”

  Melok smiled and nodded.

  “Son of a skudbuzzard,” Pako said, and waved at the rest of the riders, who were still watching, to follow him down. “We had better get ‘em all back inside.”

  “Zappa,” Ruko said, placing his hand on his grandfather’s arm, “will he be the Dominant Rex of the whole Western Clan, like Rayak was?”

  “He’ll have to earn that station in due time,” Melok answered.

  Then Ruko watched as the skywatcher descended a flight of steep stairs in the distance. She moved fluidly, more, he thought, like a Master Guardian than skywatcher. He lost sight of her among the crowd for a few moments, and then she reappeared where her covered carriage awaited her. After she vanished inside, the driver cracked his whip. His sloggerbeast lurched into action and the carriage moved away over the rutted road.

  “She sent her guardians after the old Seer in the Fen Plaza.” Ruko whispered to his father. “He was speaking with me by the fountain, before we went home for high meridian meal.”

  The Master Teller looked at his son thoughtfully. “I thought I heard a ruckus outside my workroom window about that time. Later you must tell me everything you heard and saw at the fountain.” Rudanomi then furrowed his brow and watched the skywatcher’s cart drawn on toward the inner gates of Stonehaven.

  Melok followed the teller’s eyes. “Isn’t that the skywatcher you think might make a difference?”

  Rudanomi looked at his father-in-law intently. “Perhaps,” he said. “But we will not know until and unless she proves willing to break the bounds of her traditions. If that happens, we will have to act fast to support her, or she will end up like her uncle.”

  The veil of light shows only immediate detail.

  In the bowl of the low meridian sky,

  Darkness reveals the true greatness of Manifestation—

  A greatness that far exceeds imagination.

  — Kalikanuma

  25. Skywatchers

  Whitepeak after low meridian, 33/02/1643--

  Navivanu—a pale-faced but attractive young woman with angular features and rare green eyes—relished the actual climb up to the Whitepeak Observatory. The steep and potentially perilous journey of 737 steps wrapped around the marble spire several times from bottom to top. None but the skywatchers themselves and a select few craftsmen and maintenance workers had ever set foot in the Whitepeak Observatory. Perhaps due to the vigorous exercise it afforded her or the increased privacy the long climb assured, she cherished the place as both her escape from ritual drudgery and her window into the darkness of greater truth.

  From the flattened top of the marble and granite prominence, one had a clear view of the surrounding land and sky. It was here that one of the most ancient and original Orders of the Civilization of Rex practiced their arts, conspicuously above the habitat of the general populace, engendering a quality of mystique. It was here that, after many low meridian stints married to the eyepiece of the most powerful stargazing device on the planet, Navivanu discovered that the Seer was right: the Wildstar had indeed altered its course, and now very possibly could pose a serious risk to life on Rex.

  Few common folk even visited the Skywatcher’s Compound, an extravagant place that loomed over Stonehaven like a mysterious fortress. It comprised an assortment of buildings constructed on the Skywatcher’s Plateau in the shadow of the towering spire. Since no dangerous beast could get around the base of Whitepeak and reach that outcropping of land where the compound was built, many wondered why the area was protected by an additional, inner wall, modest though it might have been.

  Navivanu descended after another long stint in the observatory, to bathe and refresh herself. After her ablutions, she stepped out of a sunken stone tub overlaid with an abstract mosaic of blue, black, and green tiles, and dried herself with a soft skin chamois. Over her shoulders she draped a warm robe made out of the soft belly skin of a sloggerbeast and decorated with a colorful floral pattern. Finally, she slipped the edge of the chamois between each of her six toes and tucked her feet into a pair of soft slippers. Even in private she covered her deformed feet. As far back as she could remember she had been told that having six toes on her feet was considered an abomination among most of her peers.

  Navivanu, the youngest child of Grandmaster Sky-Bakarma, had not yet wed, but that fact did not concern her nearly as much as it might other women her age. Her father was grooming her to take over leadership of the Order of the Skywatchers. Only her long lost brother, Jidaranuma, whom she had idolized as a child, was known to have shown as much aptitude for their arts, but for reasons she was never told his name was no longer spoken among Rexians.

  She opened the window to let the bath mist out along with the host of dark thoughts that inevitably swarmed in her mind when it touched upon Jidaranuma’s memory. Her father would not speak of him and she was forbidden to inquire as to the circumstances that led to his exile.

  She shook her head as if that would rid her of the thoughts, and did her best to admire the view of the inner sculpture garden where citrus trees blossomed, their flowers scenting the air. Some of her favorite stone and metallic sculptures stood just outside. One of them depicted two rexes tangled in what might have appeared from a distance to be mortal combat.

  These works of art, like the manicured gardens and stone architecture—indeed, everything she could call her own—were gifts from the People of Rex. It was a system that had been in place for a thousand sars—as long as the skywatchers had resi
ded on this plateau.

  Every order contributed to her lifestyle. Flockers and rexriders provided prime meats. Tanners and tailors clothed her in the most elegant attire. Builders and artisans maintained the magnificent buildings in which she dwelt. Rexians seemed privileged, even honored to work on the plateau and serve the domestic needs of the Esteemed Order of Skywatchers.

  Navivanu pushed opened a large wooden door carved with an image of the moon at waxing quarter. She entered a long corridor that connected the two wings of the Grandmaster’s lodging. Tapestries, which depicted the changing of the seasons, hung sequentially between the windows and the structural cornices. Through the clear plate glass she could see a panorama that included the extensive courtyards and the Skywatcher’s Hall, which dwarfed her family’s large dwelling place.

  She paused to watch a resident nightbird sing and fan its ornate feathers on a garden terrace outside her window. Then she continued, picking up a steaming tray of food and drink, which had been set in an alcove near the doorway, and carried it into the domed room where she found her father Bakarma working.

  After setting the tray on the filigreed half-round table in the master’s study, she sprinkled some ground sloggerdung into a large, rotating terrarium giving it half a turn. The compass beetles that lived there—each about the size of her thumb—clambered to continue their journey in the opposite direction, moving slowly but resolutely under their heavy shells, guided by interminable instincts. She smiled at the insects. Compass beetles crawled north when the sun was on the high side of the equinox and south when the sun was on the low side. Only during two intervals of time—each about three turns long, during the spring and autumnal equinoxes—did the creatures became somewhat confounded by the shifting of the seasons. The beetles were an archaic and forgotten emblem of her order, and few skywatchers kept them anymore, although travelers still routinely carried the living compasses on their journeys.