'So it doesn't blooming rain here . . .' said Max. He shook his head, flinging droplets of water in all directions. 'That's a good one. What does he call this then – light refreshment?' He glanced around. 'What's up with little britches, anyway? I saw him walking off as though he'd found five croats and lost ten. He should be celebrating his great victory.'
Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. 'I think he got a bit of a shock when he saw how many we'd killed.'
'What did he think we were doing with them, reading 'em bedtime stories?' Max was clearly overexcited by his recent experiences. 'How did you do, young master? I did pretty well myself. I had meant to keep count, but it got a bit confusing out there and I stopped after thirty or so.'
Sebastian turned to Max and rubbed him fondly on the head. 'Thirty, eh? I didn't get anything like as many as that. You're not injured then?'
'In about twenty places, but I don't like to make a fuss. This armour isn't as tough as Cornelius said it would be. Typical. But then, they never tell you the truth, these generals. That's how they get people like me to follow them.' He licked his lips. 'I could do with a drink though.'
'I'll find you some water,' suggested Sebastian.
'Water?' Max looked offended. 'After a battle like that, I would have thought a bowl of icara would be more in order.'
Sebastian smiled. 'I'll see what I can do,' he said. 'Come on, old shaggy.'
And they started back towards the village.
PART TWO
THE QUEST
CHAPTER 11
THE LEAVING
The small expedition was ready to leave and the villagers had come out of their huts to bid them farewell. Sebastian, Cornelius and Max stood on the outskirts of the village with the other members of their party. Keera had come along, as promised, and Joseph's niece, Salah, was there too. To Sebastian's dismay, Cal had volunteered to accompany them, presumably to keep an eye on Keera; and he had brought along his best friend, Galt.
Many days had passed since the defeat of the Gograth – days that had been spent disposing of the dead, a task made even more irksome by the rain, which had continued to pour down for some time after the battle. Since there seemed to be nobody left to claim the bodies of the enemy, a mass grave had been dug in a jungle clearing and the fallen warriors had been piled up in the war wagon and ferried there by Max.
It had taken days to move them all but nobody had complained about the work. It was only now the Gograth had been all but obliterated that it dawned on the Jilith what they had achieved – their ancestral enemies had been defeated for ever and the villagers would never live in fear of them again.
They also had some mourning of their own to do: the victory had been achieved at a cost. Eight of their own warriors had died in the battle and scores of others had been injured.
Nobody seemed to feel the guilt of it more than Cornelius. The once happy-go-lucky warrior had become quiet and brooding. He took to sitting in the entrance to his hut, staring blankly out at the rain; and whenever Sebastian tried to talk about what was troubling him, he quickly changed the subject.
Finally the rain had stopped and the Jilith had held a celebration to mark their great victory, but it had been a curiously muted affair, as though everybody was simply going through the motions. Sitting in the place of honour, wearing his feathered headdress, Sebastian had been aware of Maccan looking at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to announce his intention to take Keera as his bride. But he didn't say anything and the party had wound down a good deal earlier than the last one they had attended.
Now a small expedition was setting out to retrace Joseph's childhood journey, which they hoped would lead them to the legendary lost city of Mendip. A couple of Joseph's brawny neighbours had carried the old man outside on an improvised stretcher so he could bid farewell to Salah.
'Be obedient,' he told her. 'Take care at all times and make sure you come safely back to us.'
Salah nodded and gesticulated excitedly with her hands. Sebastian assumed that she was saying he was not to worry about her. At any rate, Joseph seemed content with her reply.
'Bless you, child,' he said.
Then a silence fell and the crowd parted as Maccan strode towards them, dressed in his finest regalia.
'May Okrin smile on your quest,' he told Cornelius.
'Thank you, your majesty,' said Cornelius. But his voice was flat and unresponsive, as though he no longer cared about his mission.
'You have performed a great service for my people,' Maccan told Sebastian. 'The bravery of the Chosen One will be spoken of. Your deeds will become legend. And now, as I promised you, I send my own daughter and my two best warriors to attend you in your quest. I shall pray that Okrin brings you all safely back to us.'
Sebastian bowed his head. 'Thank you, Great Chief,' he said respectfully.
Now Maccan turned to Keera. 'Daughter, may Okrin protect you,' he said.
Cal stepped forward. 'Have no worries, your majesty,' he said. 'My sword and spear shall afford her all the protection she needs.'
'Er . . . yes, and so will mine,' added Sebastian quickly.
Keera rolled her eyes. 'Don't worry, Father. I can look after myself,' she assured him.
'I know this,' said Maccan, smiling. 'I have taught you well. You are the equal of any warrior and your conduct during the final battle will also be spoken of.' They embraced for a moment and then Maccan stepped back. He looked meaningfully at Sebastian. 'And I hope that when you return, you and Keera will have some good news for me.'
There was a long, awkward silence and everybody stood there looking at each other.
'Er . . . well,' said Max. 'We'll . . . get going, shall we?'
'Yes,' said Sebastian hastily. 'Yes. Of course.' He looked at the others. 'Umm . . . which way is it?' he asked.
'This way,' said Cal, shaking his head and striding off towards an opening in the trees. 'For a Chosen One, you're not all that knowledgeable, are you?'
'I'm very knowledgeable, actually,' protested Sebastian.
'About some things. I tell you what, I know more jokes than you could shake a stick at.'
'Jokes?' Cal looked at him like he was mad. 'Jokes won't help you to survive in the jungle.'
'Well, no. But if we had to put on entertainment for somebody out there, it wouldn't be much use coming to you, would it?'
'I don't think that's a very likely eventuality,' said Max.
'You keep out of it! Anyway, to be fair, I'm not even from these parts, so how could I know which way to go?'
'I thought Chosen Ones were supposed to be all-knowing,' said Galt.
'Yes,' said Max. 'Or at least reasonably brainy.' He glanced at Sebastian. 'Of course, there's always the occasional exception to the rule.'
'I'm very knowledgeable,' repeated Sebastian defensively. 'Anyway, look, I didn't ask to be chosen, did I? It just sort of happened.'
'Stop getting at Sebastian,' snapped Keera.
'Oh, excuse me,' said Cal. 'I forgot who I was talking to for a moment.' He gave a mocking bow. 'Please forgive me, o Splendid One. Perhaps you'd like me to carry your pack for you?'
Max rolled his eyes. 'This is a promising start,' he observed to nobody in particular. 'Not even out of sight of the village and you're bickering already.'
Sebastian had to agree. It didn't augur well for their expedition. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw that the Jilith were turning away and wandering back to their huts. A sense of foreboding took him. The village had been his haven in one of the darkest moments of his life. For a while it had felt like home to him.
He wondered how long it would be before he saw it again.
All that day they followed a jungle trail, the path so narrow they were obliged to walk in single file. Cal insisted on leading the way, swinging a machete to cut through any overhanging vegetation and only allowing Galt to take over from him. Keera walked behind them, followed by Sebastian. Every time he looked behind him, he found Salah trotting alon
g in his wake, staring at him in apparent adoration. Cornelius came next, head bowed as if in defeat; Max trudged along at the rear, his huge back piled high with equipment.
In the end Sebastian dropped back down the line to walk in front of Cornelius so the two of them could talk.
'Cornelius, what's wrong?' he asked. 'You've been like this ever since the day of the battle.'
'I'm all right,' came the reply.
'No you're not; and don't think I haven't heard you crying out in your sleep the last few nights. It's not like you to have nightmares.'
'Can you wonder that I do,' said the little warrior dismally, 'after everything that's happened? I close my eyes and I still see the dead and the wounded lying there in front of me. It haunts me.'
'But . . . I don't understand.' Sebastian spread out his arms in a gesture of helplessness. 'You planned it that way. You were the general and everything went as it was meant to. And, forgive me, but you're no stranger to killing men in battle.'
'Aye. But always before it was in a fair fight, where my opponents had every chance of defeating me. I still had my honour. But that . . . massacre – that was nothing to do with warfare. I tricked those warriors into a killing circle and made sure they had no chance of escape. And why? Because I was intent on finding the lost city and claiming whatever treasure might be there. I sacrificed my honour in the name of greed and that knowledge will stay with me for ever.'
Sebastian sighed. 'You said yourself the Gograth were savage: they'd have shown you no mercy if it had been the other way round.'
'Yes. And you spoke of teaching them a stern lesson, showing them that if they didn't mend their ways, retribution would follow. I laughed at you, Sebastian, but now I see yours was the better way.'
Max's voice piped up from behind them. 'If you'd done that, they'd have come back and massacred everybody in the village. The young master is right, for once. You did what you had to do. Stop beating yourself up over it.'
'Keep out of this, you great windbag,' snarled Cornelius.
'Oh, that's nice,' said Max. 'Young master, are you going to allow him to talk to me like that?'
Sebastian sighed and, not wanting another row, quickened his pace to move back up the line.
'Now where are you going?' muttered Max.
'Somewhere the company is more agreeable,' said Sebastian. He overtook Salah and dropped back into position behind Keera. 'How much further do you think it is to the river?' he asked her. 'When Joseph told us the story, it didn't sound as if it took him long to reach it.'
Keera shrugged her shoulders. 'The memories of childhood can be misleading,' she said. 'Some of those hunts go on for days and nights at a time.' She lifted her head and called out to Cal, 'How far to the river?'
He glanced back over his shoulder. 'What's the matter?' he asked slyly. 'Are the Chosen One's delicate feet aching already?'
'Of course not,' said Sebastian. 'I was just wondering.'
'We'll be there in two days' time,' said Cal. 'Late afternoon if we keep up this pace. Of course, we'll have to stop to hunt at some point. We've no real food with us.' He glanced back down the line. 'I remember you said that you'd like to come hunting with me sometime. This will be your chance.'
Sebastian frowned. 'Great,' he said.
They walked on through the rising heat of the day. The narrow trail just seemed to lead deeper and deeper into dense jungle, the thick canopy overhead screening out all but the occasional shaft of sunlight. The green depths were full of strange noises: the chattering of boobahs, the screeches of strange multicoloured birds flapping around in the canopy, and occasionally the deep roars of creatures that Sebastian could not put a name to.
It was late afternoon when Cal stopped suddenly and lifted a hand in the air, a signal for everyone to halt. He looked back down the line and motioned for Sebastian to come forward.
Sebastian moved up to the head of the column and Cal indicated something on the trail ahead of them: a large heap of dung.
'Rusa!' he whispered. He walked forward and crouched over the dung. Sebastian did likewise. Cal sniffed the air above it. Then he took hold of Sebastian's wrist and thrust his fingers into the pile of droppings.
'Ewww,' said Sebastian. 'Do you mind?'
'Shush!' hissed Cal. 'Feel the warmth? They're close.'
'That's lovely. Now perhaps you'd like to find a stream so I can wash my hand?'
Cal ignored him. He stood up again and stared thoughtfully off into the jungle. Sebastian wiped his hand surreptitiously on some leaves. Cal seemed to reach a decision. He turned back and thrust his spear into Sebastian's hands, then motioned to Sebastian and Galt to follow him. He left the trail and set off into the bushes.
Sebastian followed dutifully, but the last thing he felt like doing right now was hunting for rusa. He didn't really have the first idea how to go about it. He watched how the other two placed their feet carefully in the damp undergrowth to ensure they made no sound and tried to follow suit, but his boots crunched and crashed around as if they had a life of their own. Cal kept throwing him indignant looks, which he tried to ignore. When he glanced back, he could see that he was already some considerable distance from the trail, and it occurred to him that if he were somehow left on his own, he would struggle to find his way back to the others.
Cal paused again and signalled to Galt to circle round to his left. Then he looked at Sebastian and indicated that he should go right. Sebastian had no option but to do as he was told. He moved forward, holding the spear out in front of him, feeling vaguely foolish. Within a few moments Cal and Galt were lost to view and he found himself pushing his way through thick screens of fern and hanging vines. It was so dark here that he had to peer carefully at the ground ahead; the infernal background noise, myriad twitterings, shrieks and hoots, set his nerves on edge. The smell of rusa dung from his hand assailed his nostrils and sweat trickled down his back.
Sebastian was just telling himself that this was a complete waste of time when he detected movement up ahead and froze in his tracks. He tried to focus: a dark shape moved past the tree trunks in front of him, a splash of dappled light playing across a furry back . . .
Furry? Shouldn't that be hairy? The thought flashed through his mind an instant before he registered that the creature he was looking at wasn't a rusa at all, but something a good deal bigger. A low, rumbling growl seemed to resonate through the undergrowth. As he stared in mute terror, the huge shape suddenly reared up on its hind legs and bared its teeth, which glinted dangerously in the gloom.
Now Sebastian could see it in more detail: a huge beast with vicious-looking teeth and massive paws that ended in curved claws. He said something colourful under his breath and thought about beating a hasty retreat, but a great blasting roar from the creature seemed to fix him to the spot.
'Oh, great,' he murmured.
The beast dropped back onto all fours and started clawing the ground, flinging up clods of earth and shredded vegetation – a great bristling monster that looked powerful enough to tear the strongest man limb from limb. Its tiny black eyes glittered with feral rage, its open jaws dripped saliva – and it was preparing to charge. It didn't take an expert to see that.
In the brief time he had, Sebastian reviewed his options. He could run for his life; he could yell for Cal to come and help him; or he could stand and make a fight of it. He doubted whether he had time for the first option; the second would mean total humiliation; and so there was nothing for it but to
take a firm grip on his spear and brace himself for the onslaught.
He didn't have long to wait. The beast surged forward and came for him, head lowered, teeth bared. Sebastian gritted his teeth and tried to keep the spearhead pointed at the creature's chest but his hands were trembling violently. There was a sudden impact that jarred every bone in his body and the wooden shaft of the spear bent as though it had no more substance than a blade of grass.
Sebastian Darke: Prince of Explorers Page 10