The First Riders

by David Ferguson

  Brawfashnim could see the cloud of dust rapidly approaching. This was his worst fear, pursuers on those amazing animals. He could see only one way to avoid capture. Signalling to his soldiers, he left the road and trotted over the fields to the right. If he could keep going for a little while he would come to the swamp. There were always boats moored at its edge and they were always available to the Head Priest and his soldiers. If they could get into a boat they would be safe. The blenjis could not follow them through the maze of channels.

  He produced reserves of physical power he did not know he possessed; his soldiers, much more active in their daily work, took the running seemingly without effort. They ran through the thickening ferns until the ground began to soften and the vegetation turned greener.

  "We need a boat," he said urgently. "There must be one near."

  They ran until they came to a channel of open water. There was no boat.

  "Split up. Search for a boat," he ordered. "We need one now."

  The riders had seen the priest and his soldiers leave the road. Welkarlin instantly realised their intention.

  "They are heading for the swamp. If they get there and find a boat they will get away."

  "Can’t we go round it?" Reffurio shouted. "Meet them on the other side?"

  "No, it’s too big. Anyway, they may not come out on the other side. They might double back or turn to the north or south. We won’t be able to see them amongst all the vegetation. We have to catch them now."

  Reffurio said nothing but urged his blenji on to even greater effort. They turned off the road in pursuit.

  A soldier, to the right and hidden by ferns, called to Brawfashnim. "We have a boat! We have a boat!"

  The others ran in the direction of the call. They found the soldier by a rowing boat with enough room for five. They splashed through the water and climbed without ceremony into the boat. There were four oars which the sailors took up. They cut the rope and pushed off. They began rowing as fast as they could.

  Reffurio took the riders along the edge of the swamp. From their high saddles they could see over the vegetation towards the centre. The swamp was a maze of narrow channels, patches of thick vegetation, and areas of algal-covered mud. Biting insects filled the air while water birds called all around. There was no sign of their quarry. They stopped in order for Eln-Tika and Mayvatha to concentrate. The four blenjis stood impassively, their feet hidden in the shallow water. The clouds of insects were relentless.

  "They are to the north-east, moving east," Eln-Tika said. "If we continue the way we are going we will be following them."

  "Are they within rifle-shot?" Reffurio asked.

  "Not at the moment, but if we catch them up they might be. The problem will be seeing them through all this vegetation."

  "I know. We need to find a clear area. Mayvatha, you’re the only one of us who knows this place. What are the chances?"

  "There are channels criss-crossing the whole marsh. If we ride fast enough we should get ahead of them. Then we could wait at the end of a channel until they cross it. We would have a chance of a shot, but it would be very brief."

  "It will have to do," Reffurio said briskly. "Let’s ride."

  They continued splashing along the edge of the marsh, hoping they were tracking a parallel course to the boat. At intervals they slowed to a walk to allow the telepaths to sense those in the boat. Eventually they decided they were ahead of their quarry and began looking for a suitable channel. They came to one that seemed ideal. It was fairly wide, at least several boat widths wide, and it was straight. They could see right into the middle of the swamp.

  Speaking to Wath-Moll and Eln-Tika, Reffurio said, "You will probably have time to get off two arrows each. I’ll only manage one shot, I should think. Aim at the priest, of course; forget the soldiers."

  They waited patiently. The telepaths could sense the priest clearly. His anxiety was leaving him. He thought he was safe in this vast marsh.

  When the boat appeared, it was much closer than they expected. The rowers did not see the riders, motionless among the trees. The hunters unleashed four arrows between them while Reffurio fired a single shot. One of the arrows struck the priest on the head; it stuck grotesquely out of his skull. They watched as the priest slumped sideways in the boat, tilting it sharply. Two of the soldiers pushed the body out of the boat into the water while the other two rowed frantically for the cover on the far side. As the priest sank into the muddy waters of the swamp his right hand swung upwards and the gold ring glinted briefly in the sun. Then he was gone.

  Reffurio said impassively, "We’ll let the soldiers go. We need to get back to the town."

  They turned their blenjis away from the swamp and back towards the road.

  *

  Mayvatha detected Eln-Tika and Welkarlin as they rode through the town. She turned to Ombissu and said, "They’ve done it! They’ve killed the priest!"

  Ombissu and Fallassan, who were in the square supervising the clearing of bodies, grinned in relief. Within a surprisingly short space of time the four riders were in the square, Welkarlin shouting the news. The crowd began to cheer and soon the whole town was aware that the long oppression was over.

  That evening, in the candle-lit priest’s chamber, the travellers and the rebels discussed the future. The priests and guards were either dead or dispersed; there was a political vacuum that was waiting to be filled. It did not take long for Welkarlin and Mayvatha to form a council dedicated to restoring a dying land and destroying a vile religion. The sailors would return home; they would be back very soon to begin trade between their two lands.

  During the celebratory feast, while drinks were being drunk, Ombissu and Reffurio talked quietly to the seven remaining hunters. What did they want to do? They had three choices: they could stay where they were, to enjoy the admiration of their new friends, they could accompany them back to the sailors’ homeland, or they could be taken home.

  Eln-Tika knew what she wanted to do: she wanted to sail with Ombissu and Reffurio and Fallassan to their northern country, with its mountains and fir trees and brave, resourceful, fulfilled people. She wanted to be part of a great civilisation, where wonders were everyday, where she could meet others who thought like her. She explained her desire to the others and, to her surprise, they agreed with her. Ombissu and Reffurio and Fallassan grinned and lifted their beakers. They wished each other a prosperous voyage.

  ***

  Epilogue

  Chester Jones, Eddie Mizell, Jean Wilson, and Roger Schmidt watched as the lights came on in the diorama. It depicted a scene in the late Cretaceous. The painted background consisted of rolling hills covered with huge ferns and occasional trees. On the floor of the diorama had been placed a couple of plastic ferns and a stone hut with a roof of fern thatch. The door of the hut was open and a figure stood at the entrance. In the immediate foreground was another figure carrying a spear. The two figures were striking. They were standing upright and were about 1.4 metres tall. They were clothed in trousers and hooded jackets made of animal skins, and wore moccasins. The only parts of their bodies visible were the heads and hands, and these were the heads and hands of a dinosaur. The head was large relative to the body, the eyes were enormous and forward facing. The one holding the spear wore an intricate gold ring on the second finger of its left hand. They looked alert and intelligent.

  "It’s the best we could think up," Eddie said almost apologetically. "Obviously, we have no idea how these dinosaurs lived. Theoretically, they could have had a civilisation as advanced as ours. They could have been driving round in automobiles and shopping in supermarkets. The few thousands of years it took us to get from the bronze age to the present is nothing on a geological scale. The earliest they could have been is bronze age - because of the gold ring - and that is where we put them. Somehow, we couldn’t bring ourselves to present them as any more advanced."

  "Because we don’t want to consider the possibility that they were our technological equ
als," Jean said tartly.

  "That’s right."

  "H’mph. It would have been braver to have the female - whom I assume is in the doorway - shopping in a mall for her ring."

  The others laughed.

  "Well, it would," she protested. "They could have been just like us - you admit it. They may have had a great civilisation. They must have had attributes that we don’t possess - after all, dinosaurs were incredibly successful. They could even have created a civilisation that was greater than ours. How long did they have before the meteor came? We don’t know because we can’t date that site to within a hundred thousand years. Ten thousand years would have been enough. In that time they could have done great things. This diorama is demeaning."

  "You may well be right," Chester said quietly, "but we decided on the safe option. We know that they must have been capable of making the artifacts shown in the diorama - the hut, the spear, the clothes, the ring - so that’s what we’ve shown. They could have travelled to the stars for all we know."

  The four scientists looked at the diorama in silence, each lost in his thoughts. They had made one of the greatest discoveries of all time, but all it had done was release a sense of wonder that could never be satisfied.

  "Come on, people," Chester said, "let’s tear up a cup of coffee."

  ***