Pulima Cos crumpled, her fat bulk sprawled in her own pool of blood. Not dead yet—but soon. Her breaths hissing out of her skin were short and shallow, she was very close to death, and when her chest collapsed she breathed her last breath.
And died.
For the first time since he could remember Ilon felt a tremendous sense of relief. And yet, unknown to him, the Iranha who had killed so many would kill no more. Perhaps it was finally over. Perhaps. With one eye still on his dead quarry he watched as several hunters approached, the high wall of flames shooting up behind them.
“Their city is destroyed!” A tall, battle scarred female roared with happiness. “We have done it!” She introduced herself as Inlaptep, one of trod Targasesk’s hunters who had served Ilon during many of their previous raids on the city.
“Tell me,” he asked her, “What news of the battle? Are the Iranha all dead?”
“Some escaped. No matter,” she assured him, “we will track the rest of them down and kill them too.”
“I search for Horhon of trod Horhon? You have seen her?”
Her headshake indicated no, though another of her eight companions arched his neck and spoke. “I have.”
Smiling, Ilon said, “Good. Take me to her now. We are not finished with these Iranha yet.”
Chapter Forty Five
A fresh replacement of guards was just coming on to take the morning watch. Since learning of the attack on city Anaxerxes, their own city was on the highest possible alert and security was tighter than ever. Armed guards patrolled the city perimeter. Although information was scant, every citizen felt on edge. There were all sorts of wild rumors going around. Every citizen was talking about last night, though no one actually knew what had really happened.
Though it was almost daylight the sky was under the cover of thickening clouds. A dull rumble of thunder told the watchers there would be rain before the morning. Traffic in and out of the city was restricted. The big inter-city transports hauling supplies were impounded and searched. The guards were under strict orders to look for anything suspicious, so when one of them spotted a dim beam of light on the highway she scrutinized it closely as it approached.
As the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the main gates the guard immediately walked over to speak with the driver. “State your business here?” she said brusquely.
“Tell me, who is in charge of this despicable city.”
She was taken aback by this low male’s insulting tone and touched her gun threateningly as she leaned forward. “She is Oneteesel. The same Oneteesel who would have you scourged for speaking so crudely of her city—so be careful.”
“I might have guessed,” he snorted derisively. “Pulima Cos has surrounded herself with cronies and racketeers, so why not her? You will take me to her immediately.”
The guard’s voice was insolent. “You dare speak that way? And who are you to command me?”
The driver stared at her with widening eyes, then spoke ebulliently, saying, “I am Poxiciti.”
Automatically her gun went up and she called the alarm. Within moments the vehicle was completely surrounded and Poxiciti was subdued and forcibly dragged outside. He did not resist, however everyone who was present bickered and quarreled over who would be the one to take him to Oneteesel, since his captor might profit from the outstanding reward.
Oneteesel had already been summoned from her sleeping chamber and now was waiting expectantly while Poxiciti was brought before her. He was manacled and chained about the wrists and feet, could barely walk for all the weight of his restraints.
“So we meet face to face at last, Poxiciti. Certainly this is an unexpected surprise, having you here now as my prisoner. I am told that the price on your head would fill a small room.” Reaching across her desk she pinched his bare shoulder. “No reward will be greater than handing you over to Pulima Cos myself.”
“I can see that you and her eat from the same garbage pile,” he said insultingly. “Do not count your money yet. I am here in your city, but not as your prisoner. Rather I came here of my own free will to warn you—”
“You?” Oneteesel’s rude roar of laughter cut him off. “You warn me?” After another round of laughter she leaned back in her wet chair and hoped this interpellation would be a brief one. “About what?”
“By now Pulima Cos is hopefully dead. Since her city is only a short distance away from city Soligcetis I can only assume it will be the next logical target.”
“Of what? Attack?” She snorted derisively. “I heard reports of segathars running wild on the streets of her city. I can assure you that if they should try coming here to my city Tykrerek then we are ready to put these animals down.”
“You know nothing. If you did you would be very afraid. The enemy you think you can stop—you cannot.”
Oneteesel looked confusedly to her hahlok commander who was standing nearby. “Do you understand any of his nonsense? What is he babbling about?”
Sogonogona shrugged feebly. What information she possessed she personally believed was ludicrous and did not want to appear foolish in front of her superior, so she declined to answer.
“I find these bonds uncomfortable.” Poxiciti rattled his shackles. “Remove them, unless of course you want to imprison me and never know what horrendous fate awaits your own city.”
As a longtime money-maker Oneteesel never allowed her personal feelings to interfere with business transactions—especially when the seller possessed something she desired. Nevertheless she was irritated, though bent her arm to his request. “Now—tell me.”
“The segathars that you skinned and profited from have launched a well-organized attack against city Anaxerxes. It is now in their possession. What you do not know is that they have lag guns, and undoubtedly what remains of the city will soon be leveled to a dust pile.”
“Segathars with lag guns, the city destroyed? Impossible! You lie.”
Poxiciti considered her the stupidest adversary he had encountered yet. “You idiot. For what reason do I need to lie?” he argued, coarsely. “Or perhaps a segathar attack here might make it abundantly clear that they intend to wipe us out.” He looked over at Sogonogona and saw that something was deeply troubling her. “Tell her commander, you must know something, don’t you?”
Again she responded by shrugging her shoulders, only this time accompanying her movements was a low voice that every listener had to strain to hear.
“It is true,” she admitted. “Witnesses reported seeing armed segathars in the city. Of course segathars are stupid animals so naturally I believed the reports had to be wrong.”
“And you did not think this important enough to bring to my attention?” Oneteesel angrily rebuked her in front of everyone. “I want no excuses, only an immediate explanation.”
“It is too late,” Poxiciti broke in. “What is done is done. City Anaxerxes is no more. Pulima Cos and her evil empire are finished. She misled you, corrupted you, and now she is dead, as will soon be all her supporters. So you must decide between your loyalty to her—which will certainly and inevitably lead you to your own death—or you can retain the privilege of your rank and join me. But you will do exactly as I say, and when I order it.”
“Never!”
“Think again about what I offer you. The salvation of this city—or the death of it. Now choose.”
“It is I who gives the orders in this city.”
“No more. You forget I am still a member of the Vulana, the rightful governing authority which was taken by force, overthrown by violence. As its only surviving and democratically elected member I hereby assume command of you and your armed forces.”
“Then join your traitorous companions now,” Oneteesel hissed. She was in a murderous rage, reached for her gun and held it up to his face. Before she could squeeze the trigger a second gun cracked and she slumped to the floor and died. Her death had come about very suddenly and the shocked spectators reacted by seizing her still armed assassin at the fr
ont of the line.
“Stop!” Poxiciti shouted. “Enough. There will be no more bloodshed. The killing is ended. This one is the last.” He looked over his audience and saw that Sogonogona, still holding her gun, was his only opposition. “And how about you, commander? Will you join your master in death, or obey me?”
Sogonogona lowered her weapon slowly. “I obey.”
“Then inform every citizen to commence with this city’s evacuation. Inform the other cities as well that we leave immediately.”
“Leave? Where will we go?”
“Home to Epiphiline,” Poxiciti said with pleasurable finality. “Back to where we belong.”
Chapter Forty Six
“It is done. It is over at last,” Horhon said triumphantly. The hot sun was beading down on her face as she squinted to see what remained of city Soligcetis.
“This is only the second,” Gangahar said beside her. “Why stop when there are still more cities to conquer?”
“The Iranha now know that we Egris can kill and destroy too. Let them think about these two cities. Let them decide if they want to stay here and risk losing another.”
While he was thinking about that she discarded her lag gun and started to untie the small bundle which was bound about her waist.
“What is that you have?” he asked her inquisitively.
“Megog. What remains of her physical body. She saw this day long ago, and wanted to be here. It was her dying wish that I bring her to the battle, to be among the dead, those who gave their lives to see this end.” Unsealing the container she let Megog’s ashes spill out. A breeze blew and settled the dust across a wide swath of ground. Now, with her task completed, Horhon could leave this place knowing she had fulfilled her promise. It was time to go.
Like all other occasions the celebration was a short one since food was always a hunter’s primary concern. And while many of the hunters talked of new friendships and inseparable bonds which would last forever, after the dead were buried the trods soon departed for home. Few might meet one day, but the vast majority would never see each other again.
Horhon had known this all along, for just as sure as the brightness of day became night, the light of this moment would soon diminish to a dim spark. Because the Egris had no accurate means of recording their history everything they accomplished here today would eventually be lost forever. To some degree that was happening already. Once the battle ended the Iranha were no longer in their future, but in fact were now a part of their past. What Horhon needed to do was to somehow keep the memory of this moment alive.
In just five days after city Anaxerxes and city Soligcetis were leveled the hunters found city Tykrerek empty, and so it too became a smoking pile of ruin. Nothing remained of it but the charred outline where their fires had burned, and the twisted metal and rubble which had once been buildings. By the time the hunters reached the outlying cities they found them abandoned too and knew then that the Iranha were gone for good.
“We have found another Iranha city.” Saskakel was just returning from the desert, was covered with dust and sweat, though appeared eager to speak his message. “Shall we tear it down just like the others?”
“No. Leave it,” Horhon said firmly. “Perhaps I was mistaken to go along with this cleansing. In our haste to rid us of the Iranha completely I see that what we have also done is to erase the very memory that we seek to keep. Destroy nothing else, for anyone who might come upon these relics may glimpse the past and remember us for the bloody battle which we fought and won. May this never happen again.”
Saskakel bowed his head reverently to show that her instructions would be obeyed. “As you wish.”
The first days passed uneasily and everyone expected the Iranha to return, although as more and more days slipped by the great fear that possessed them soon began to ebb. No one could remember so long a time when the Iranha had not been talked about. And yet each new day passed like all of the others, monotonous and empty, though everyone fervently hoped their lives would remain exactly that way.
In the spring the goud returned to the tree-top plains and the hunters ate well every day. Krugjon was improving, so much so that when his bindings were finally cut he was able to stand up and walk for the first time. Before he was finished he was promising everyone that he would be jumping and would soon be joining them on the hunt. Sanbat bore the trod’s first child, and that must have encouraged the other females because three more were soon coming.
It was almost too good, this placid life all of them were living. Horhon was suspicious, sure that something was about to change. For many days now she had felt this way, unable to shake the feeling that something was going to happen. She did not know what exactly, only that she would be powerless to keep it from happening.
Then early one morning, she jumped in off of the field. The others were still out hunting but would be back soon. For some unknown reason she had felt the urge to return home, though now as Krugjon greeted her at the entrance his unsettling news was her answer.
“The creature from far away that Ilon told us of. It came back this morning. It is with him right now. Inside.”
She hurried in through the tunnel. It was so strange to see the two of them standing side by side together, for it was like looking at another Ilon. Had he not waved to her she might never have guessed which one was which, though once her eyes left him she focused all of her attention on the intruder. Its unwanted presence here could only mean the peace and order of their lives was about to change. Undoubtedly now this was going to be revealed.
“The time has come for Ilon to leave,” Aisahl told her.
“No,” Horhon moaned. Slumping backwards on her tail she crossed both hands and blocked out its face in an attempt to forestall hearing it speak.
“You know that he must go.”
“I know only that we will be parted, and it is not a good thing for a mother to be separated from one of her own.”
“He is here because I brought him here. Brought him to you, Horhon. You know this. You have always known this. Now he wants to return to his own world.”
“Only because he cannot stop you,” Horhon hissed. She caught herself wondering if this creature could be killed. A single bite and Ilon would be going nowhere.
“I shall, of course, take him back,” the creature who was Aisahl admitted. “But it was he who made the decision to come with me. If he still wishes to remain here with you then let him say so now.”
“Is this true? You want to go with it?”
Only partly true. Actually he had no choice, and despised this creature for making her think he wanted to leave—he did not. He now gritted his teeth and the words caught in his throat. “I will return,” Ilon tried to assure her.
“Will you? That is hard to believe. With the Iranha gone and we Egris now free, what is here to keep you from going back to your own kind and not ever returning?”
“Only you. You will always be my mother. That is a bond that can never be broken.”
“Don’t go back there,” Horhon pleaded with him. “I know you cannot leave me.”
“I can. I must. My future lies elsewhere.”
“Why now? Why return to those Uta creatures when you can stay here with us?”
“It is too difficult to explain why, although I think you already know.”
She did not answer him directly; the long bout of silence that followed was acknowledgment enough. His mind was made up and Horhon knew it was futile to convince him to change what he most wanted.
“And what do you want me to tell the others?”
“Tell them . . .” Ilon’s back was turned, tears streaked his face, and the only thing he could think of to say was, “Tell them goodbye.”
“Understood. Then you will leave here. Will you ever come back?”
“One day, I promise. Now—I must go.”
“And you, strange one, will you bring him back to me alive?”
The creature who was Aisahl smiled. “That is
the way I found him.”
While they walked outside, Ilon held onto his mother’s hand to comfort her. Deep within himself he was struggling, fighting to change his mind. Not that he really ever wanted to leave her. But despite how he felt about staying he knew from the very beginning that one day he would return to his past. That day was here now, and so he was going.
They reached a spot on the dune and separated. Krugjon, Horhon, stood by looking on. Tears ran down Ilon’s face as one last time he lifted his hand and bade them both farewell. At that very instant a brilliant flash of light enveloped him. Horhon instinctively forced her eyes shut. After the light faded only the depressions in the sand showed where they had once stood.
“What happened? Tell me what happened,” Krugjon asked, his words rushing out faster than he was able to speak. “Is he gone?”
“What he came here to do is finished,” Horhon answered him. “You know what he has done. The Iranha are gone.” She then spoke to him with great unhappiness. “Ilon is gone.”
“I believe he will come back soon.”
Horhon glanced skyward and sensed he was up there somewhere, moving out beyond their world, toward one of those fading points of light. That was where he belonged now. Perhaps his world and hers would never come together again. As she turned and took her first step home a tear ran down her face. A future without him now seemed more certain than ever. And life would be as it had always been—the life of the hunt. Still, even more certain than that, Horhon knew she would never forget. She had already dreamed too many dreams to ever forget.
“I am hungry, Krugjon.”
He smiled.
Table of Contents
The Battle for Tomorrow (Ilon the Hunter) Page 32