Winged Raiders of the Desert

by Gilbert L. Morris

  6

  Jake Takes a Chance

  Two days after they were taken into captivity, Jake finally had a chance to speak with Reb. The two of them met at the well and, after filling their buckets, moved out of hearing range of the guards.

  “How's it going, Reb?” Jake asked.

  “Well, it ain't finer'n frog hair, I can tell you that!” Reb snapped. He turned his cheek to one side, and in the flickering light Jake saw a red mark.

  “Who gave you that?”

  “Doesn't matter,” Reb said wearily. “I'm everybody's slave around there. If I don't hop when they say, they take a stick to me.” He shrugged his shoulders wearily, saying, “We're in a mess for sure this time, Jake. I don't see how we can ever get out.”

  Jake almost reminded Reb that he had said the very same thing, but the weariness and the discouragement on his friend's face caused him to say instead, “We've been in tight spots before. We'll get out.”

  “Yeah, but it'll take a miracle,” Reb said. “What's it like where you are?”

  “Well, it could be worse, I guess. Sure Flight's the second-in-command. He seems to be a pretty nice fellow actually, aside from being a Raider—but it's that daughter of his that's giving me fits.”

  “Does she beat you?”

  “Oh, she gives me a whack now and then just to show her authority,” Jake grumbled. He thought about the past two days and how Lareen had kept at him constantly. She was as curious as a girl could be, and, when Jake was so tired he could hardly stand up, she would prod him with the stick, forcing him to tell her more about his experiences in the outside world. She seemed to delight in tormenting him, and, while she was not cruel, she nearly drove him crazy with her demands.

  “It could be worse.” Jake shrugged, then asked, “Have you seen any of the others?”

  “Yeah, I saw Abbey. She's about cried out, I reckon.” Reb shook his head sadly. “Hard on a young girl like that. She said she saw Sarah, and the two of them are about as sad as we are about all of this.”

  “We'll get away.” Jake nodded.

  They had reached the surface now, and the guards passed them by.

  When they came to the fork that separated their pathways, Reb looked out over the vast spaces where the desert land far below sent up heat spirals. The wind was whistling and blowing his pale bleached hair.

  He was a tough young man, but somehow this had destroyed his confidence in himself. He said only, “Let's just try to get together. If they keep us separated like this, we'll lose all hope.”

  “Sure, we'll do that,” Jake said quickly. He felt a pang as he watched Reb trudge away carrying his buckets and thought, If Reb's downhearted, I don't know what'll happen. He's the toughest of us all.

  He was on his way back to the cave when he heard voices overhead. He saw two Winged Raiders standing on a ledge, peering out over the desert. He could not see their faces, but he recognized the voice of Darkwind.

  “Nachor, I tell you, we've got to move quickly,” Darkwind said. The whistling wind almost drowned out his voice, and Jake huddled close to the stone outcropping, listening as hard as he could. Nachor said something that he could not catch, and then Darkwind spoke again. “We'll never be able to sway White Storm. He'll have to go.”

  This time Nachor's voice came to him more clearly. “You mean kill the chief?”

  “Yes. Haven't you always known it would come to that? If we're going to join the Shadow Wings, White Storm can't stay.”

  Nachor was silent for a moment, then asked, “What about Sure Flight? He's totally loyal to White Storm.”

  “He'll have to go too, and any others that won't go our way.”

  “I'm not sure we're strong enough. There's only a few of us, and if they find out we are in league with the Shadow Wings, they'll strip our wings and throw us over the edge of the cliff to die.”

  “There are powers that you do not know, Nachor,” Darkwind said and laughed in a sinister fashion. “We will talk of this later. Come, let's make our patrol.”

  Instantly Jake pressed himself against the outcropping, trying to freeze as the two Raiders threw themselves off into the wind. Their wings spread, and they caught the wind at once, rising high. Once Jake thought that Darkwind glanced down and saw him, but he remained absolutely still. Finally he drew a deep breath as the two forms rose high into the air, becoming mere black dots as they sailed out over the desert land.

  “Whew! That was a close one!” Jake said, his voice not quite steady. He hurried on back toward the cave of Sure Flight, his mind filled with what he had heard.

  “There's some kind of plot going on,” he said to himself. “The Shadow Wings—that sounds like servants of the Dark Lord to me. He's got his spies here.”

  When he reached the cave, he found Lareen waiting with her stick. She prodded him with it, something she knew he hated, saying, “You took too long. Come, put the water in the reservoir. We have things to do.”

  Jake did as she indicated, then followed her out of the cave. She took him to a part of the village that he had not seen before. A group of women were working in the shade, and Jake said, “Look! They're making wings!”

  “Of course they're making wings. That's what they do.”

  Jake said, “Let me take a look.”

  Lareen glanced at him, then shrugged. “All right, for just a minute.”

  Jake moved over and saw that making wings was an intricate process. He did not know what the framework was. He suspected some sort of metal that they had brought back from raids, but it was very, very light. The women were attaching individual feathers with tiny threads. It was a painstaking, slow process.

  Lareen picked up a wing that was half done and held it toward Jake. “See, this is what makes our people kings of the desert. You've never seen anything like this, have you?”

  Jake took the wing and noted it was made of literally thousands of tiny feathers, all tied in layers. It was very light and yet somehow flexible. It bent and moved easily.

  “That's enough,” Lareen snapped. “Come on now.”

  Jake followed her obediently but asked, “Why don't you wear wings? Don't any of the women fly?”

  “Of course! Don't be so stupid,” Lareen snapped. “Only the best of us women get to fly.”

  “I don't see why a woman couldn't fly as well as a man,” Jake observed.

  Instantly Lareen turned to him and opened her eyes wide. That seemed to be a new thought to her. She stood there thinking hard. Then finally she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you're right about that, but lots of things aren't fair, I guess.”

  The two passed out of the central part of the village past the farm, coming finally to what was the closest thing to a forest. It wasn't much, Jake saw. Seeds had taken root in the crevices of the rocks, and a thin soil had been built up. Some of the trees were ten feet high, or even fifteen.

  “We need to gather firewood,” Lareen said. “Don't hurt any of the trees.”

  Jake began to pick up small dead sticks, putting them into the sack that Lareen had tossed him. As he worked, she sat in the shade of one of the trees singing a song that he had never heard before.

  Then she rose and looked around and said, “There! You've missed that big pile of dry wood over there. Come on.”

  Lareen walked toward the pile of wood, and Jake followed. She reached it and turned to say, “Now, put all this in your sack and we'll go home.”

  Just as she finished speaking, she whirled her head, and Jake saw her lips open in a soundless scream. He glanced down and saw a coiled snake almost at her feet. The girl seemed paralyzed, unable to move, and the snake was drawing back for its strike.

  Without thinking, Jake dropped the sack of sticks and threw himself forward. He shoved Lareen to one side and tried to roll away, but he was too late.

  He cried out as the fangs of the snake struck him on the calf of his right leg. At the same time, he picked up a stick and hit the reptile behind the head. The snake began to writhe, a
nd Jake struck again and again until finally it lay still. He stood there, trembling, and looked down at the two fang marks on his leg.

  Lareen had fallen, but she got to her feet and came to him. Her face seemed to be frozen, and she was trembling violently. “He bit you!” she whispered.

  “Yes, he did,” Jake managed to say.

  At once she said, “Quick, lie down.”

  Jake lay down on the thin soil. He saw Lareen remove the dagger from her belt, and he stared at her as she approached.

  “The snake is deadly,” Lareen whispered. “I must cut the wound.”

  “Go ahead,” Jake said, gritting his teeth. He looked away and felt her hand on his leg. Then there was a quick flash of pain as the blade bit into his leg. He felt it again on the other fang mark and then felt her hands kneading his flesh. He felt the blood run down the calf of his leg and asked, “Do people—die when these things bite them?”

  When Lareen leaned over him, her lips were pale and held in a tight line. Slowly she nodded. “Sometimes they do, but not always. You lie here; don't move. I'll go get help.”

  She was gone then, and Jake lay there looking up at the sky. He seemed to hear his heart beating, thudding like a drum, and his body felt hot. Soon he became very sick, but he lay still. Finally he whispered, “Well, Goél, if this is it, it's been good to serve you.”

  * * *

  “I think he's going to be all right.”

  Jake had been asleep in a dark pit, it seemed, but he came back. When he opened his eyes, everything was wavering for a minute. The yellow light of a flickering torch cast its gleam over faces. They were blurred, and he blinked his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw it was Sure Flight and Lareen, along with an older man. “What—where am I?” Jake tried to speak, but his lips were dry.

  The old man at once turned to him. “Don't try to talk. You've been very sick.”

  Jake felt terrible. His head ached, and it seemed as if every bone in his body had been broken.

  “You'll feel better after a while.” This was Lareen, who came to stand beside him, putting her hand on his forehead.

  Jake licked his lips, then grinned feebly. “That's good. I'd hate to think I'd feel this bad the rest of my life.”

  Sure Flight leaned over the young man, his face very serious. “I'm glad you did not die, Garfield. My daughter has told me what you did for her. It was a brave thing to do.”

  Jake could not remember for a moment what had happened. His mind was whirling, and then finally he did remember taking the snakebite. His mind was foggy, and he said, “Jake Garfield's Maiden Rescue Service. We never close.”

  Lareen whispered, “I'm terrified of snakes. I couldn't move.”

  “Well, I don't care much for them myself,” Jake said.

  He tried to sit up, but the old man pushed him down. His name was Lochor, they said, and he was the nearest thing these people had to a doctor as Jake was to discover. “Lie still,” he said. “You must eat and rest for two days.”

  That was the way it turned out. After the first day, Jake was much better, but Lareen insisted on his lying very still. She cooked broth for him and insisted on serving him.

  Once Sure Flight saw her feeding Jake the broth and smiled. “It looks like the slave and the mistress have changed positions,” he observed.

  Lareen flushed but made no answer. When her father was gone, she put the bowl down and said, “How do you feel?”

  Jake nodded. “A lot better than I did.” He gave her an odd look. “You treat all your slaves like this?”

  “Not all my slaves risk their lives to save mine,” Lareen said. “Why did you do it?”

  Jake was embarrassed. “I didn't stop to think about it.” He shrugged. “When you see a snake, you do all you can to keep it from biting somebody. Then you kill it.”

  “I could never have done that.” There was an almost pathetic look on the beautiful face of the young woman. She said, “You're different from us, Garfield. Most of my people would not have done that. My father would. Maybe a few more.”

  Jake said suddenly, “I think it's because I serve Goél.”

  “Who is Goél? I've heard of him, but I know nothing of him.”

  Jake thought of the plot he had overheard on the rocks and thought, I'd better begin making some converts to Goél's way or we're all goners. Aloud he said, “Goel is good. There's a dark power that lives in Nuworld. There are cruel people who would hurt others. Goel would have everyone to be kind and generous—as you've been to me lately,” he concluded suddenly.

  Lareen flushed but continued to ask questions about Goél.

  Jake answered them, then asked cautiously, “Have you ever heard of the Shadow Wings?”

  Lareen gave him a startled look, “Yes. They're a small tribe that lives far away. They have been here several times.”

  “Your people don't get along with the Shadow Wings?”

  “Some do.” Lareen nodded slowly. “But my father thinks it would be foolish to make an alliance with them. He has spoken with Chief White Storm about this many times.”

  “But Darkwind doesn't agree, does he?”

  “How do you know that?”

  Jake shrugged. “Oh, just a guess.” He hesitated, then said, “I hope your father and the chief don't get involved with these Shadow Wings. They're not like your people, not if they're the servants of the Dark Lord.”

  For a long time the two sat there talking, and finally Lareen rose. She put out her hand, and impulsively Jake took it. “You saved my life, Garfield,” she said. “I will never forget. Can I do anything for you?”

  Jake grinned crookedly at her. “Well, one thing. Please don't hit me with that stick again!”

  7

  A New Chance

  F or two more days Jake found himself practically an invalid. The venom of the serpent had been worse than he had imagined, and he was so weak that he could barely feed himself. Lareen kept close watch over him, and her father, Sure Flight, stopped by from time to time to inquire in a kindly fashion about his condition.

  On the third day, Jake managed to get to his feet and take a few tottering steps. He was dizzy, and his legs felt as though they were made out of rubber. Just as he was about to make his way back to his bed, a young man came through the cave opening and startled him.

  “Who are you?” the young man demanded. He was no more than seventeen or so, trim and wearing the wings of a raider. His eyes were dark, as was his hair, and there was a look of authority about him.

  “My name's Jake Garfield. Who are you?”

  The question seemed to irritate the young man, but he answered, “I am Swiftwind, son of Chief White Storm.” He examined Jake with a rather suspicious glance, then demanded, “Where is Lareen?”

  Jake's legs were getting even more shaky, and his dizziness increased. “I don't know where she is,” he muttered.

  The young man called Swiftwind seemed to take his mutter as an insult. He reached out and struck Jake across the chest. Ordinarily the blow would not have disturbed Jake, but in his weakness it was enough to drive him backward. He sprawled on the hard stone floor, and his head rapped the surface. It sent stars flashing across his eyes, and for one moment he seemed to lose consciousness. When he awoke, it was only a few moments later, but he heard voices and felt hands on his head.

  “Who do you think you are?”

  Jake opened his eyes and saw Lareen, bending over him and holding his head off the floor. She was glaring at the young man Swiftwind and proceeded to give him a dressing down. “If you can't behave any better than that, Swiftwind, you can just take yourself out of here!”

  The young man looked sheepish. “But, Lareen—”

  “Never mind.” Lareen helped Jake get to his feet, and he slumped over on the couch that was built into the wall. “Are you all right, Jake?” she asked anxiously.

  Jake felt the back of his head, which had a slight swelling, but nodded. “Yes, I'm all right. Not much stronger than a baby tho
ugh.”

  Lareen turned to Swiftwind, her eyes flashing. “I suppose you're proud of yourself, pushing an invalid around. You're a real son of a chief, you are! Why don't you go out and find some babies and whip on them?”

  “Wait a minute,” Swiftwind protested. “I didn't hit him that hard—and I didn't know he was sick. Who is he anyway?”

  “He's one of the captives that Darkwind brought in five days ago. I was about to be bitten by a snake, and it was Jake who jumped between me and the awful thing. He took the bite in his leg that would have been mine.” She glared at Swiftwind and snapped, “I'm not sure anyone else would have done that.”

  Jake watched as they faced each other. It occurred to him that perhaps Swiftwind had come courting Lareen. He wanted to make no trouble. “Wait a minute, Mistress,” he said. “I'm sure Swiftwind didn't mean any harm, and he didn't really hit me that hard. I'm just not very strong yet.”

  Eagerly Swiftwind said, “That's right. Sorry about that.” He glanced at Lareen and laughed sheepishly. “I never thought I'd hear myself apologizing to a slave—but sometimes my temper does get away from me.”

  Lareen seemed to relent. “All right,” she said. “Now, sit down and tell me everything you've been doing.”

  Jake listened carefully as Swiftwind began to describe his adventures. He was seventeen years old, as Jake had suspected, and was beginning his training with the more adventurous arm of the Raider branch. They made long sweeps over the desert, looking for plunder and slaves. As he spoke he grew more excited. Finally he looked at Jake and asked, “Why are you so white? You look like you'd burn up out in the sun.”

  Jake, who did as a matter of fact burn easily, nodded. “That's right, but in the country I come from the sun isn't as hot as it is here. As a matter of fact, some places are covered with ice.”

  “What is 'ice'?” Swiftwind asked curiously.

  Jake tried to explain ice, but to the two young people who had never seen anything like that, the explaining was a total failure.

  “You mean you're telling me you can actually walk on water?” Lareen asked, doubt in her eyes.