The First Riders

by David Ferguson

  The row of chanits blocking the roads were obviously guards. They wore a dark blue-grey tunic of heavy cloth, a knee length skirt of the same material which had stitched on to it strips of bronze. There was further protection in the form of bronze knee-caps, bronze arm protection and tall leather boots. They carried short straight swords and on their heads they wore a metal helmet surmounted by a great plume of orange feathers. Behind were five chanits who were presumably priests. Each wore a long flowing robe intricately patterned in yellow and green; on his head each wore a tall flat-topped hat. Heavy gold necklaces of beaten gold were much in evidence while fingers were adorned with gold rings of intricate design.

  Welkarlin whispered to Ombissu and Eln-Tika. "The five behind in the coloured robes are priests. They are asking who we are and what we want."

  Ombissu stretched his arms out in front of him and turned his palms upwards in a gesture of friendship. He said slowly and clearly, in the language of the priests, "We are travellers from a far-off land. We greet you in friendship."

  The most senior of the five priests who were barring the way also stretched out his arms and turned up his palms. As he did so the sun caught the gold ring on one of the fingers of his left hand, a ring with an intricate design of hexagons. He said, "We greet you too." It was an automatic response to the remarkable appearance of this group of strangers. First - and most importantly - they were riding on the necks of the most impressive beasts he had ever seen. The blenjis were big and strong yet gentle. They stood impassively, allowing these strangers to sit so casually on their necks. He had no doubt that these animals could run at tremendous speed, allowing the strangers a great advantage over whoever they met. He suddenly realised he wanted these animals. They represented power in a world where power was everything. He wondered how he would gain them.

  Then there were the strangers themselves. There were obviously two types. Presumably those wearing the blue and red cloth were the masters while the others in the animal skins with the bows at their sides and the quivers of arrows at their backs were the servants. It was strange that the masters did not carry weapons. Each had a ceremonial metal and wood stick in a leather holder which was strapped to the side of the neck of the blenji, but no bow or spear or sword. They must be very confident of their welcome. Then, too, there were fewer servants than masters - one servant to three masters, he estimated, which was very strange indeed.

  There was also the fact that at least one of them could speak their language, albeit in a primitive and fractured way. He wanted to think about the implications of that, but he had no time, for the stranger who had greeted them - who was presumably the leader - was talking again. He wanted trade. Well, that could be arranged. He could supply much that was desirable while they could trade their animals. He saw no reason not to accommodate their visitors.

  "You are welcome," he said. "We are about to begin one of our ceremonies. You are welcome to witness it. Please follow us."

  Welkarlin whispered to Ombissu, "This will be the ritual of the bees. I suggest we stay mounted. We can form a line beside one of the temples."

  "You will have to guide us so that we cause no offence."

  "Offence?" Welkarlin said drily. "It is not us that will cause offence."

  "Keep quiet, my friend, we don’t want to attract curiosity. I’m still not convinced that you won’t be recognised."

  Eln-Tika, riding in the second row, said, "We cannot trust these people. They are looking for ways of taking advantage of this situation. So far, it is simple greed, but it may become worse."

  Ombissu tapped the neck of his blenji; it moved forward under the fascinated eyes of the priests. The travellers maintained their disciplined formation as they followed the priests and guards who walked before them.

  The complex differed from the one they had previously encountered in that it was enclosed by low buildings on all four sides. In the centre of each side of the square was the entrance to a street. In the huge enclosed square were seven pyramids, six smaller ones surrounding a central pyramid, which was the tallest structure any of the travellers had ever seen. All the pyramids were covered in brightly coloured designs, some of which incorporated bees. The surrounding buildings, in contrast, were not painted although they were ornamented with the now familiar beautifully carved friezes.

  The travellers rode into the square where they were brought to a halt by the guards. There followed a certain amount of confusion as the guards attempted to persuade the riders to dismount. They were having none of it. The blenjis were their method of escape should events become dangerous. They were not about to be parted from their animals. It was Welkarlin, faking a foreign version of his own language, who entered the argument. The blenjis were sacred animals; they were not to be parted from their riders. The priests and guards, unsure of what would happen if they forced the issue, relented. The riders formed a line against the centre of one of the buildings, each facing into the square. The priests noted, once again, the discipline of their visitors, the way they formed the line in such an orderly manner.

  The travellers were sideways to the main steps of the central pyramid. These were on the left while the side with the channel was to the right. After the commotion of the argument, the square became completely silent. Chanits in the clothes of the ordinary people filed quietly into the square under the orders of the guards. To the riders, there was a sense of foreboding, which to Eln-Tika amounted almost to a great scream in her head.

  She said to Reffurio, who was next to her, "Something terrible is about to happen. I can feel terror all around me."

  Reffurio asked anxiously, "Is the terror about to happen to us? Are we in danger?"

  "No, it is not us, one of these people is about to die - murdered. We are mere spectators."

  A procession entered the square from one of the buildings. A priest walked in front carrying a great staff which glinted gold in the sun. Behind him four guards surrounded a young chanit who had a metal collar round his neck to which were attached four chains; each chain was held by a guard. Behind them, two guards were pushing a kind of wheeled cart upon which - unbelievably - was a beehive and a large pottery jug.. Behind him came three priests carrying smaller staffs.

  The procession walked to the base of the central pyramid and stopped. One of the guards lifted up the jug and carefully poured the contents of the jug over the bound chanit. When he was evenly smeared, the guards covered themselves with gauze protective clothing, which, to the watching riders, was obviously the equipment of a beekeeper. Eln-Tika, with horror, realised what they were about to do.

  "We can’t let them do this!" she cried.

  Reffurio, alarmed, said, "Eln-Tika! We can do nothing! We have to wait!"

  "Wait? For what?"

  "For another day," Reffurio said. "Please - do nothing. Hate them, but do nothing."

  Eln-Tika forced herself to clear her mind, to remain still on her blenji and watch the horror that was unfolding.

  The other guard had opened the hive and removed one of the cells. He held it over the young chanit and shook it. The bees dropped in a solid mass and descended onto the chanit, attracted by the smell of the liquid that had been poured over him. The chanit began screaming as the bees began to sting. Another cell was removed and the process repeated.

  There was no sound except for these screams. Eln-Tika could feel fatalism all round her. These people had seen this many times before and were almost inured to it. Not so her friends, though. Through the fatalism she could feel the anger of the watching riders. And then matters became worse. The procession was on the move again. The priest climbed slowly up the steep steps of the pyramid, followed by the guards with the sacrificial victim and the other three priests. When they reached the top, the four guards let go the chains. The leading priest raised his staff to the sky and the guards pushed the screaming body off the top of the pyramid. It fell down the vertical side through the channel and hit the ground. All four priests raised their staffs to the sk
y and gave a cry of exultation.

  "This is where we should shoot them," Reffurio muttered to Ombissu.

  "You may be right," Ombissu whispered back.

  The body was taken away by more guards wearing protective clothing and the priests descended the pyramid. Another priest appeared and said to Ombissu, "This is our sacrifice to the gods. I hope you will attend again tomorrow."

  Ombissu managed to force a smile and make some compliment. The priest said, "After a sacrifice, we always have a little meal. You are welcome to join us, of course."

  Welkarlin translated for the benefit of the others and Ombissu smiled glassily at the priest.

  Wath-Moll asked Eln-Tika, "Is there danger?"

  "No, not at the moment."

  "Very well, we will have to go," Reffurio said.

  "What about the blenjis?" Wath-Moll demanded. "We can’t leave them alone. They could steal them - or eat them, for all we know."

  "Four guards - two hunters and two sailors - will stay with the blenjis. We will have to make it plain that we cannot leave them for too long - certainly not into the night. Tell him that, Welkarlin."

  The priest seemed to understand. All but the four detailed to guard the blenjis dismounted. The travellers followed the priest into the building.

  Chapter 31

  The priest led them along a long dark corridor made of the same square stones that made the wall. It was lit by torches hanging on brackets. The shoes of the priest clattered on the stone floor although the soft moccasins of the riders made no noise. They turned a corner, a wooden door was opened and they entered a large, low room lit by high square windows and more torches. On the far side of a long table a line of priests stood. Against the walls guards were stationed. The table was laden with food. By gesture the travellers were invited to sit.

  The six hunters were immediately conscious of their weapons. They never sat wearing their bows and arrows, but they did not feel safe enough to remove them. Eln-Tika made the decision.

  "It is safe - for now. We can put our weapons on the floor beside us."

  The hunters removed their bows and quivers and carefully placed them on the floor. The sailors casually propped their rifles against the table; they had already noted that the staffs of the priests were similarly placed. Ombissu and Reffurio carefully watched the priests’ reaction to this. They seemed to be interested in the placement of the bows and arrows, but indifferent to the rifles, which was as it should be.

  The food was familiar and yet different. The meats were similar to those that they were used to but they had been prepared in new and interesting ways, with a selection of unusual spicy sauces. It made a welcome change to the food they had been eating for the past days. The drink was refreshing. For a while the conversation, almost all of which went through Welkarlin and Mayvatha, concerned the meal. The priests were polite but seemed rather uninterested. The drink was made from some plant that only grew in this region and was highly prized. The travellers were beginning to realise that it was distinctly potent. The conversation was becoming more lively and became even livelier when Mekbill, through Welkarlin, asked how they came to practise their religion. Ombissu wanted to stop Welkarlin making the translation, but he was too late.

  The Head Priest replied at length and with passion, but the translation was quite short. Welkarlin said, "I don’t propose to translate this word for word - for one thing, I do not have sufficient command of your language. For another, it is best that you did not hear the rantings of this bigot. Essentially, they do not know why they worship bees. The sacrifices are made as offerings to the gods, of course. Bees are the earthly manifestation of the supernatural gods. The priests believe that there are only two ways of making the bees - and thus the gods - happy. One is by providing plenty of flowers for the bees to feed on, the second is to allow them to sting a chanit to death. In return they are given honey and good fortune."

  "How often do they sacrifice?"

  "Every day. Sometimes twice a day when times are hard."

  "And they always sacrifice the young?"

  "Oh, yes. What is the point of sacrificing the old when they have nothing to give? No, it is the young who must die."

  "Doesn’t that mean they are getting less? There must be fewer and fewer young chanits."

  "Of course. That is why this land is dying. That is why you met so few chanits on your way here. The burial chambers are full, though," Welkarlin said bitterly.

  "Our duty is clear," Mekbill said.

  "Yes, it is," Reffurio said distantly. "By the way, have you noticed all the gold on this table? These berry bowls, the meat platters, the candle-holders? And the chains and rings the priests are wearing? Interesting, don’t you think?"

  "Reffurio..." Mekbill began.

  Ombissu interrupted: "Let’s not start an argument in front of our hosts. Mekbill - what do you mean, ‘Our duty is clear’?"

  "We must either convert them or kill them. The former is probably impossible, so it must be the latter. That’s what I meant."

  "Nothing wrong with that," Reffurio said briskly. "These priests are an abomination. They will have to go."

  Ombissu studied Reffurio’s tumbler of drink. "I think you should slow down on the imbibing, my friend. We need to keep clear heads. I’m not happy about us being here. I know Eln-Tika thinks there’s no danger, but I don’t know. The whole place gives me the creeps."

  "Why do you think I’m drinking? I don’t think I’ve been in a less cheery place in my life. Let’s get out of here. Let’s find us somewhere to spend the night and to work out a plan. Mekbill’s right, you know. They’ve got to go. It’s just a matter of working out how."

  "Well, we can’t leave yet. It isn’t polite. Let’s finish this meal, talk to our gracious hosts and lay off the drink - will you do that for me?"

  "Yes, Ombissu, of course I will. A clear head, clarity of thought, full possession of facilities is the order of the day."

  "Right. Now let’s ask them about the gold. It would be interesting to hear where they get it from."

  Brawfashnim, the Head Priest, listened to the conversation without understanding the words, but he understood the sense only too well - for he too was a telepath. But unlike Eln-Tika, Welkarlin and Mayvatha, he kept his ability to himself. In his society, to be known as a telepath was to bring death. His parents had realised his ability early on, but they had managed not only to keep it secret, but to persuade their son to do the same. It was an indication of the severe self-discipline of the young acolyte that he had managed to keep his poisoned gift secret all this time.

  It had been difficult at times. His power had proved uncommonly useful, but he could not even hint at the source of his knowledge. Other telepaths were a danger too for they could detect other telepaths when they were using their powers. With training he had learned to keep his power working at a minimum level but maximum efficiency. This reduced the waves created by telepathy to a level that only allowed detection by those who were deliberately looking for it. And - to his alarm - he realised that three of these strangers were telepaths. They made no attempt to conceal their ability, presumably assuming that no-one else in the room would have their ability. One had very alien thoughts, but the other two seemed familiar, familiar enough to make him wonder if they were strangers at all.

  It was very difficult to work out who they were. There were thirty-eight strangers, all thinking their thoughts, and, even with his experience and discipline, it was impossible to locate the telepaths. Instead he looked at them, and wondered if two of those in the skins were not former members of his society. There was a small group of rebels in the hills outside the city and, so far, they were weak enough to be ignored. But now he was not so sure. The strangers had come from the sea and may well have passed close to the rebel camp. Could they have met and joined forces? It seemed quite likely. It could also explain the strangers’ ability with their language. They were dangerous, these strangers. Perhaps he would have to call upon the servic
es of the guards once again.

  The meal finally came to an end. The travellers had learnt that there were several gold mines in the area. The priests used gold for ornamentation but did not seem to regard it particularly highly. It could be a basis for trade - if that were still an option. Welkarlin made the suggestion and the priests listened with mild interest. But they would continue the conversation tomorrow. Today had come to an end.

  A guard, who seemed to be in a position of authority, said, "We have made arrangements for your accommodation - if you will follow me."

  Eln-Tika said urgently to Ombissu, "No, it is too dangerous. They may be preparing a trap."

  Ombissu turned to Welkarlin and said, "I think you will have to explain. We will not be sleeping at wherever he proposes."

  "I need an excuse."

  "The one we agreed on - the blenjis," Eln-Tika said. "We need to be with the blenjis and they need to be outside. They are sacred animals to us and must be protected at all times. Make him understand. Tell him that we need to be outside the city - in a field where there is food for the blenjis - we will make our own camp, it is our custom when we are travelling."

  Ombissu said to Welkarlin, "There is your excuse. Make it sound plausible. We are definitely not following him into this building."

  Welkarlin, in his fake foreign accent, repeated Eln-Tika’s explanation. The Head of the Guards listened unhappily. This was not part of the plan, but he could not see how he could refuse the request without either appearing offensive or suspicious. He made a gesture of submission and soon the party was being led by a group of guards to the edge of the town. Here they found a large level field which seemed eminently suitable. With expressions of superficial goodwill the guards left them to their own devices.

  Ombissu looked around the field and said, "Well, here we are - this is our home for the moment."

  "And the relief is amazing," Fallassan said.