The remaining mandible impaled his neck and he ceased his cries.
Two of the soldiers plied their arrows against the thing, but that was folly, as even Sarsour saw, for he cursed them. "Lances, you fools!" He picked up one and tossed it to one man, then charged forward with a lance of his own. He did not lack courage.
I readied to follow, but Dabir called to me. "Asim!"
I looked past the bulk of the monster and saw Dabir holding something aloft. His oil flask. "Get fire!"
He dashed past Lina, who crouched in her blankets, her eyes like white pearls, and strode determinedly for the monster.
I leapt to obey, though I did not like it. The caliph had charged me with protecting Dabir by day and by night, yet what was I to do when Dabir sent me one way while marching to death the other?
Even as I raced to the fire I saw a smoking green spray shoot from the creature's mouth and burn through a soldier's face. He wailed only for a moment before falling. Sarsour and the remaining two stabbed the thing with their lances.
I snatched a blanket, whipped it around my hand, and grabbed a handful of sticks at the fireside. These I thrust into the dancing flames. In moments they were alight, and I looked back to Dabir.
Sarsour shouted for him to stay clear, but Dabir sidestepped one of the guards and the mandible I'd chopped, then hurled the contents of a cup he carried into the creature's face. The thing hissed its anger as the oil splattered.
The nearest soldier pulled Dabir back, then tackled him as a smoking stream spewed from the thing's orifice. It missed them by mere handspans. The other soldier danced away, but Sarsour jabbed the monster's mouth. It let out a high-pitched hissing sound.
"Asim!" Dabir cried even as I dashed forward, the flames trailing from the burning brands in my hand, "aim for its face!"
I was not so witless to have failed to divine his plan. I closed on the bug, and I threw the sticks, and my aim was good. I lashed it like a fiery whip and the flames licked up across the oil and spread over its face. "Get back!" I called.
But Dabir did no such thing. As the creature turned its flaming face from us he ran forward to its side and splashed it yet again with oil. The fire licked up along its carapace and it screeched.
Flame ate at the thing, and it tossed this way and that, as if it meant to dislodge a rider. Twice more it sprayed forth ichor, but we had all withdrawn. Its blackened limbs were still twitching a half hour later even after fire had consumed it.
We relocated the camp, bearing the bodies of the fallen with us. Fadil, the stocky soldier who had saved my master, helped me recover the horses, for God had given them the good sense to flee. Upon our return I discovered Dabir and Sarsour confronting each other beside the crackling fire. The girl wept nearby while the handsome Tarik looked on curiously.
". . . to be an expert on such things," Sarsour was saying.
"Do you suggest I should have foreseen the insect's coming, witless one?"
"We delayed for two days so we could have an 'expert' who's useless! I've lost two men, her hakim, and her chaperone. Now you tell me you don't even know medicines!"
"Do not threaten my master," I said, and put my hand to my sword.
The captain snarled and placed a large-knuckled hand on his own hilt.
"Stop!"
As one, Dabir, Sarsour, and I turned to the girl.
Lina's eyes blazed with fever or fury. "Four lie dead and you would duel?"
"This is men's talk," the captain said gruffly.
"Am I not the governor's daughter? Am I not your charge?" Lina swung a hand at my master. "He is no hakim, but Dabir has pledged to aid me, and I accept his offer. Captain, I treasure your bravery, but save it for your foes. Dabir could not have guessed a monster would attack us any more than you could."
Sarsour frowned, saying nothing, but the tension was broken as my master bent to a pack beside him that I recognized for the hakim's. Sarsour glared at his back.
"This man is beloved of the caliph, may peace be upon him," I said. "And the caliph placed him in my charge. Men do not lightly cross swords with Asim el Abbas. If you are fond of your head's seating, I would watch your tongue."
He scowled, but turned from me.
Dabir prepared a potion for the girl from the healer's notes and bedded down near her. I kept watch next to him, trusting neither Sarsour nor the dark grasslands, which might vomit up another horror at any time. The girl passed soon into sleep, and I thought my master had as well, but after a time I heard him whisper my name.
"Asim."
"Yes, master?" I answered softly.
"You are sworn to protect me. Yet . . . I would think, if something horrible were to happen, you would know what to do."
I hunted for meaning in his words. "You have been thinking about the men wounded by the great bug," I said. It was not like him to ponder such things, and I wondered at his weakness, although it was a horrible death and men would rightly fear it.
"Suppose it was something like that, yes. If I was wounded or . . . changed, somehow. I trust you would not let me linger."
"Nay, I will let no harm come to you—"
"Promise me, Asim, that you would send me to God." His voice was low, insistent.
I thought first to remind him again of my oath of protection. Yet something stayed my tongue. He had never spoken to me like this before, and I felt his eyes fastened sharply upon me. "By the ninety and nine holy names, I promise, master."
This must have satisfied him, for he rolled onto his back. "I did not think we would find it," he said. "Yet we have seen two of the map's landmarks. I no longer think the tale a fable."
Earlier that day we had passed a great mottled rock shaped like a goat skull, and a small oval lake shimmering like a mirror.
"Now the trick is to keep the girl alive," he said quietly.
"But you have mastered the hakim's medicines."
"I do not recognize all of the medicines." His voice was softer even than the nearby crickets. "Many of them are unknown to me, and even though some are labeled, I do not understand their use." He was quiet for a time. "Even if I can induce her to live another few days . . ."
"What, master?"
He did not respond. I wondered if he were on the cusp of one of his black moods, which might explain his brooding. Once they seized him he was poor company for many days. "Do not fear for the girl, master," I said. "You will see her through."
"It may be so," said Dabir. But his voice did not betray hope.
I woke late, to my master's voice. He spoke with Lina. A short distance away, Sarsour, Fadil, and Tarik dug at the earth.
"Did you see his preparations?" Dabir was asking.
"No, I did not."
I looked over at them, but did not rise.
"I'm sorry, then," Dabir said. "I do know that the bhang would help ease your sorrow, and any pain—"
"No." Her voice was suddenly sharp. "No more bhang. I'm dying. No more. It makes a fool of me, and if I am to die this day it will not be as a fool."
"I don't think you'll die this day, lady."
"How soon then? Tomorrow? How long do I have? The truth."
The steady chunk of spade into dirt paused for a moment, before Sarsour mouthed a low curse. The spade work resumed. Why, I wondered, did they have spades at hand on this journey in the first place? And then I realized that they must have been packed should the girl die.
I watched Dabir. His lips pursed. "The hakim said you had two or three days. We should reach the fountain by then." He smiled. "You heard the captain this morning. He thinks we'll get there tonight."
"And do you think they'll be some magic waters there, Dabir? If such a thing existed, surely the map would not have been left rotting in father's archives. Would not the world overrun with immortals? Would not the fountain be fortified behind great walls and manned by the caliph's finest?"
"The waters are hidden by those who no longer wished the waters used against them."
"What do yo
u mean?"
"I mean," Dabir said flatly, "that I believe the fountain will be there."
"Myths," she said quietly, and pulled off her blanket to shove her small feet into gold-trimmed slippers.
I sat up and stretched my arms.
"I would have done things a little differently," she said to Dabir, "had I known all this would happen. Been kinder to my cousins. Paid more heed to the words of the holy men—"
"There's still hope, lady."
"I am young, Dabir, but not stupid. Don't lie to me."
"Dabir never lies, young mistress," I said. "There is still hope. God's ways are unknowable, and your fate is surely written, but do not presume to guess the end of your thread."
She hugged her knees to her chest. "This was all father's idea. I didn't want to come out here. I wanted to spend my last days in the palace. And I certainly didn't mean for anyone to die because of me and some stupid old map."
"Lina." Dabir took one of her hands and stared at her until she met his eyes. "That wasn't your fault. Whatever happens to . . . any of us, on this journey, is not your fault. You must realize that. It is our choice."
She shook her head wearily. "No one would be out here if it wasn't for me."
"That may be. But we'd be risking our lives doing something, Lina. Isn't it better that we risk our lives for someone we love?"
"You love me?" She asked, her voice a little breathless. Dabir was not just famed and wealthy, women found him handsome. I have heard them whisper his praises. He struck me as overly lean, but then God had not troubled me with the skills to guess what a woman liked.
"I love all that is wise and beautiful." Dabir's voice was gentle. "I would see you come into your years. I would see your beauty flower and watch the poets wrestle one another with couplets of praise for your wisdom and grace of step while minstrels played." He bowed his head.
She smiled then, and despite the disheveled locks of her hair and her tired eyes she was lovely.
* * *
Lina hunched forward in her saddle, clutching her cloak tight despite warmth that streamed from the sun. During midday prayers her forehead was damp and her breathing shallow. Dabir talked her into consuming a small amount of bhang, but it made no difference. I knew little of healing, but my sense was that she'd tapped her last keg of strength and no drugs could aid her.
Dabir was concerned enough that he sent me to confer with Sarsour, riding point with the governor's map. It was afternoon by then and there was little wind. Each of us was masked by dust broken with rivulets of sweat.
Sarsour's eyebrows rose when I reined in beside him.
"She's failing," I told him quietly. "How much farther?"
"We've passed all but one marker now. The cliffs back there, and the three rounded boulders two hours back."
"How much farther?"
"I'm not sure. It shouldn't be too much longer."
He was wrong. The afternoon wore on and we descended into a narrow valley where bright purple flowers waved cheerily in the wind. Wild hares bounded between low bushes and an antelope bent to drink from a bubbling creek. The scene was improbably lovely and it looked a fine place to dig a grave.
Lina did not die there, though. I lifted her on the saddle before me, refraining from comment at her lightness. She weighed less than a grain sack.
She dozed in my arms as evening came, her breath shallow and quick. Our shadows stretched around us as the trail twisted once more into the heights. All conversation had ceased. We pushed on, each of us resolved to reach the waters this day, for it took no scholar to realize the girl would not last the night.
And then Sarsour halted and threw up his hand. He urged his grunting horse closer, peered at the rocks beneath an overhang, then let out a triumphant little laugh. "This is it!"
"Where's the fountain?" Fadil asked.
"This is the final landmark. This trail here will take us up to the valley!" And he urged his horse up a sandy, nearly vertical slope.
Trail was a grand term. Goat path described it better, and I have seen goats that might have bypassed it for easier climbs. Sarsour didn't get too far before turning back and dismounting. "We'll have to go it on foot," he said. "I will carry Lina—"
"I shall carry her," I said.
"No." He lifted his chin in challenge. "You have said your job is to guard your master. I shall carry the girl." He did not finish with the word lackey, though his tone implied it. He clasped the girl's arms. I swung down from my mount, but swift as I was, Dabir was there to put a hand on my arm before it reached my saber.
Sarsour bestowed a final glare upon us, then lifted the protesting girl from the horse and carried her easily. He motioned to Fadil and Tarik, who followed.
"He lacks manners," I said to Dabir, who shshed me. Some word had passed between Sarsour and the soldiers, and they turned to face us. Fadil drew first, then Tarik, and suddenly we confronted two bared blades. Sarsour continued up the path with Lina.
Now my hand found my hilt and my blade licked forth.
"Steady!" Dabir said. And thus I did not leap at the soldiers, though my knees were flexed.
Their faces were grim, but they did not advance against us.
"What is this, Captain?" Dabir called. "Do not let her drink without me!" His voice was almost frantic. But Sarsour, briefly silhouetted by the sun against the sky at the height of the path, did not answer, nor even look back. He strode down the other side of the hill and out of sight.
"They cannot match me, master," I said.
My eyes did not waver from the blades of those against me. They, in turn, eyed me. Their betrayal kindled my anger, for I had found them good men. Both were calm and capable, and while Persian, were hardy enough. Broad, quiet Fadil had especially impressed me, so his challenge filled me with bitterness.
"We four have shared the salt," Dabir said. "And you saved me."
Fadil nodded. "It is true."
"You would slay me now?"
"The captain gave orders that he advance to the fountain first."
"The girl will die without me! You must let me pass!"
Fadil shook his head. "She is safe with Sarsour, now."
Dabir spoke quickly. "The four of us risked blood together. Asim raised his sword with you. Are you not sword brothers?"
Fadil's eyes flicked down at his sword, then up again. Tarik watched him. "We are sworn to obey the captain."
"You are both honorable men," Dabir said. "I have seen it. I would not see your blood shed. The governor needs such men as you; as Asim and myself. Tell me, which action will please him less? That you stepped aside, or that the four of us shed our blood?"
Fadil breathed deeply.
"Dabir is the governor's friend; he sat at the caliph's right hand," Tarik said to his companion. His dark eyes were narrowed tensely.
"I know." Fadil snapped. Another moment passed. Finally Fadil straightened and slid home his sword into his sheath. Tarik put up his own with a loud sigh of relief.
"He said only that he was to reach the fountain first," Fadil declared. "He has surely done so." He stepped aside. "I would not spill the blood of a rafik."
"Come, Asim!" Dabir dashed past them. I scowled and followed.
"You too, fools!" I said in passing. "If there are more dangers, can Sarsour wield his sword with the girl in hand?"
Their footsteps scuffed the dirt behind us.
We cleared the top and looked down into a tiny bowl-shaped valley. The roofless building in its center resembled a caravanserai more than any infidel temple. Thick-leafed ivy smothered its walls. The girl stood hunched by Sarsour, drinking from a flask at the structure's far end.
"Stop!" Dabir cried.
We ran down from the height. Long strands of ivy hung like a curtain from the arched entryway and I saw as we closed that the plants writhed.
"Master!" My blood thinned and the breath of icy djinn fell upon my neck. "The plants live!"
"Nay," said Dabir.
It was no
t until we reached the threshold that I saw the greenery did not move of its own accord, but in response to the small red and brown bugs that burrowed among its leaves, their antennae twitching—-insects that might well have been brothers to the monster which we had fought, for they were identical in all but size. Some were tiny, some the length of my arm. Might there be others nearby grown to match that we had battled?
Jim Baen's Universe-Vol 2 Num 3 Page 28