by Lara Nance
He motioned to his men who grabbed her and Rett, forcing them to their knees.
The men on horses and camels came to a semicircle in front of them. They brandished swords, knives and other weapons, grimacing and yelling, closing in on the rest of the group.
Benji let out a guttural yell and ran with his head down, butting the man beside Belle away. He pulled his dagger out and pointed it directly at the leader. “Back away. Don’t touch her or I will kill you all.”
“Benji,” Belle cried. “No, they’ll hurt you.” She struggled to rise but the man on the other side of her still had her arm in a vise-like grip. After a moment, the fingers digging into her arm loosened their grasp and then slid away altogether.
She staggered to her feet and brushed the hair away from her face. Rett rose as well and they stared about in shock. The attackers lowered their weapons and stared at Benji with wide eyes and mouths gaping open. Puzzling, he wasn’t really a very threatening figure. He crouched in a fighting stance in front of her, brandishing the dagger back and forth.
The leader dropped his whip to the sand and slowly dismounted. He walked forward with halting steps, the squeak of leather and chinks of metal the only sounds in the little oasis. He stopped about three feet in front of Benji and jabbed a finger at him.
“Where…where did you get that dagger?” he demanded.
At this range, he appeared to be about thirty-five years old, but weathered from the intense sun. He wasn’t as tall as Belle, but his dangerous posturing made him seem taller. Knives, swords and pistols stuck in the numerous leather belts buckled around his body.
Benji straightened a little but kept his eyes on the leader. “Why do you want to know?”
The man hissed and swept his arms in the air. His men released the crank handles of their crossbows and withdrew the metal arrows. The other men put up their swords and rifles and began to mumble and whisper among themselves, casting furtive glances at Benji.
Rett had been released and came to Belle’s side. She couldn’t help taking his arm as her knees shook so hard she thought she might sink to the ground.
“That dagger has been missing for over twenty years.” The leader paced in front of them, hands on his hips. The long tail of his helmet’s white scarf trailed behind him in the sand. “It is an ancient symbol of the strength of our tribe. Our tradition says whoever holds it is the sacred ruler of the Mandagols.”
Benji straightened the rest of the way and his arms fell to his sides. “Who are you?”
“I am, ah, was the leader of the Mandagol, Kef Solmin.”
“Well, I’m Benj…ah…Benjamin.”
“Then, Kef Benjamin…” The leader went down on one knee and brought his fist to his chest in salute. “You are now the leader of the Mandagol.”
The air resounded with the thuds of the other men bringing their fists to their chests and then going to one knee before their new leader.
Benji turned around and looked at Belle with astonishment spreading over his features. Then a spark of something flickered in his eyes and one side of his mouth curled up.
He wheeled back around and held the knife high over his head. “Mandagols, rise. We must reclaim the honor of the dagger. I came to you because we have a mission to fulfill.”
The men rose at once, leaping in the air, yelling and cheering as they brandished their weapons. Solmin came to his feet more slowly and stood silently regarding Benji, a wary look in his eyes.
“Kef Benjamin, what is the quest you set before us?” Solmin asked.
Belle held her breath. What was the boy thinking?
“The airship that crashed in the sand,” he said pointing back to where Blackwatch lay like a beached whale. “We need to find the people who were in it. There is a man among them who is being held captive and we must rescue him. Otherwise the entire world will be engulfed in war. This is a worthy quest that will restore honor to the dagger and to the Mandagol.”
Solmin gestured for one of his men to come forward. The man ran over to them, eyes alight with eagerness.
“This is Gesic, my, uh, your second in command.” He motioned to Gesic. “Tell the Kef what you saw yesterday while on patrol.”
Gesic nodded. “The big ship came swooping down out of the mountains with huge Ravanges attacking the inflatable. The people shot at them, but their claws had already damaged the fabric and they were forced to land as it came apart in shreds.”
“What are ravanges?” Belle asked, the name made a shiver creep over her skin.
“I’ve read about them but I thought they were extinct,” Benji exclaimed, then answered Belle. “They’re huge raptor type birds. There are stories that they can attain a wingspread of twelve feet or more.”
“We see them hunting over the desert occasionally, but their nests are in the mountains where no one ever travels,” Solmin said. “They are viciously territorial. No doubt that ship invaded their nesting area.”
“What happened after the ship landed?” Benji asked.
“I was surprised when only a little later a caravan appeared, as if they had planned to meet despite the crash. There are no cities near here and then I recognized the banners of the soldiers who accompanied the men on camels. They were from Manu Picca, the stronghold of Warlord Mastihan.”
“Why did you think they had arranged to meet? Couldn’t they have happened upon the crashed ship?” Benji asked.
“Not likely. Manu Picca is located in the mountains, clear across the Matahala desert from here. Several days travel by camel,” Gesic replied. “Besides, this is Mandagol territory, they endanger themselves by trespassing here.”
Belle and Rett shared a glance.
“Sounds like Wildeye planned to drop off his cargo here instead of going in to Terrabba,” Rett said. “Not a bad idea. There aren’t any curious eyes out here to notice what’s going on.”
“So now all of them are on their way to this Manu Picca?” Belle asked.
“Can you take us to Manu Picca?” Benji asked Solmin. “We can fly in the airship if you guide us.”
Solmin inclined his head. “As the Kef wishes. But if you plan to attack the stronghold it will not be easy and certainly impossible from your flying ship.”
“Why do you say that?” Benji frowned.
“It is not called the stronghold for nothing. The entire structure is built into the side of a solid rock mountain. It has held out against sieges that lasted for several years and never fell. You will need a clever plan to defeat the warlord.”
Belle crossed her arms, frustrated. They were so close to finding her father and now it sounded like he was in an impregnable prison. How would they ever get to him?
“There may be a way in if we choose a less direct route however,” Solmin added and Gesic nodded with a slightly evil smile on his face.
“Then we need to discuss a plan,” Benji said.
“If you permit, my Kef, the blade needs the blood ceremony to bring it back to the tribe and the rest of the Mandagol need to see their new leader. We should go back to our camp. From there we can plan the campaign that will bring glory back to our people.” Solmin gave a small bow.
Benji glanced at Belle. She was eager to reach her father without delay, but if these Mandagol could help them it was too good an offer to pass up. If they knew a secret way into the citadel it could be the secret to success. She put a hand on his arm and nodded.
“Very well, Solmin. You will travel with us in the airship and we will follow the rest of the men from the air.” Benji tucked the sacred dagger back in his belt.
Solmin gave instructions to the other men and then followed them into Gambit. Belle felt certain he had not been on an airship before. He looked around him with curious eyes but if he was afraid, he hid it well.
They went up to the deck and Rett and Sam prepared the ship to leave. Solmin and Benji stood at the rail with Benji explaining to the other man how the ship worked with the helium and steam engine. She smiled. Before long the
previous leader of the Mandagol would be captured by Benji’s charm as everyone was eventually. Armani sat on a deck chair watching Benji with an admiring gaze.
Belle climbed the steps to the aft deck where Rett adjusted the levers to lift Gambit from the sand. They rose about a hundred feet in the air and followed the Mandagols on their horses and camels.
“What do you think?” Belle asked.
Rett chuckled. “That kid is something. You’d think he’s been leading a tribe of bloodthirsty Bedouins all his life.”
“You know what?”
“What?”
“Did you notice he hasn’t stammered since confronting the attackers?”
Rett’s brows went up, and then he nodded. “You’re right. Interesting. Better not mention it to him.”
“Do you know this place, Manu Picca?”
“Only by reputation. It’s supposed to be unassailable—never conquered since it was carved out of the mountain a thousand years ago.”
“Great, just great. What shall we do then?” Belle’s heart sank. Would she find her father’s location but be unable to reach him?
“Sounds like the Mandagol may know a way in. We’ll have to go along with their traditional ceremonies to gain their support and then see if they can help us break into the citadel.”
Sam came up from the engine room. “Engine’s all set.” He cast a glance at Benji and let out a short laugh as he went down to the gondola.
Jasper brought up his typical extravagant tea tray with sandwiches and cookies. Solmin looked at this service with approval. Belle was sure he assumed Jasper was Benji’s servant. She put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile when Jasper looked up at her and rolled his eyes.
They followed the cavalcade until nearly sunset. The troop led them north until they reached the edge of the dessert. Small bushes and twisted trees appeared more regularly. Here and there, patches of wild grass gone brown scattered. In the distance, the tops of palm fronds waved along the horizon.
At last, the Mandagol camp came into view: a large oasis with swaying palm trees and areas of green grass. A massive grouping of black canvas tents had been erected among the trees, and herds of goats, horses and camels roamed through the grassy areas, while chickens and dogs ran through the paths between the tents.
Rett set the ship down at the edge of the camp and they went down the gangplank to the ground. Sam made sure iron stakes were driven into the sand to secure the tether lines of Gambit.
After a few moments, a growing roar erupted from the camp. Benji looked at Solmin who explained, “The men have told our people of the return of the dagger. They are shouting in joy.”
Armani held onto Benji’s arm as a crowd spilled forth from the tents and headed toward them like a giant multicolored wave. What these people gave up in color for their tents, they made up for in their clothing. Tunics and loose pants tucked into boots were of every color imaginable. Similarly, colorful scarves wrapped around the men’s heads and trailed down their backs. The men waved their swords or knives in the air and shouted as they ran.
The women had long black hair hanging in small braids to their waists and threaded with tinkling golden coins. Gold bangles clanked on their arms and numerous golden necklaces draped around their necks. Their dark-lined eyes shone with happiness as they clapped their hands and made a strange hooting sound in celebration.
Rett walked up and whispered in Benji’s ear. Benji nodded and straightened his shoulders as he pulled out the dagger and held it in the air. The people gathered before him, leaping about, their shouts and hooting echoing across the desert. They finally surrounded him and lifted him in the air, carrying him on their shoulders through the encampment.
Belle and the others followed behind, marveling at this outpouring of adulation. It was difficult believing in this ironic development of their journey. She imagined sitting in her townhouse back in Aereopolis just a week ago and she would not have thought such a thing could be possible. But here they were, in the middle of the desert, with Benji the newly elected king of this tribe, hoping they would be able to rescue her father from an unassailable citadel. She shook her head.
Rett raised one brow at her reaction.
She just threw her hands up and followed the cheering crowd holding Benji above their heads.
###
They were shown to individual tents and given offerings of clothing, jewelry, food and drink. Belle sank down on the rugs that covered the sand, surrounded by plump pillows. She looked at the food on the small table beside her and picked up some of the dates, popping them into her mouth. She sank back among the cushions, sighing at the comfort.
“Belle, Belle,” a voice sounded from a distance and someone shook her arm.
She struggled up to a sitting position and blinked several times, realizing she had dozed off in her cushion nest.
“Belle, can you believe this?”
Finally she focused Benji’s face.
“Benji?”
“Yes. Bloody hell, Belle, what happened to you?” His eyes narrowed in concern.
She rubbed her eyes. “I’m fine. I must have fallen asleep. What’s going on?”
Benji gestured out with his arms. “This is the most brilliant thing you can imagine. They gave me an enormous tent and all sorts of girls as servants. They’re practically tripping over each other to wait on me. I’ve never been so diverted in my whole life.”
Belle found a clay jug and poured what appeared to be fruit juice into a cup. She took a sip, finding it both sweet and tart, but deliciously refreshing. Then she gave Benji her attention. He’d dressed in the attire of the tribe; black tunic and pants with brown leather boots to his knees and a blue and green sash around his waist. Straps and buckles held his dagger, a sword and a pistol. She took a deep breath.
“Benji, what are they planning?”
“They have a ceremony that will take place tonight along with a big feast to celebrate the return of the blade. Solmin told me after it was stolen twenty years ago, the tribe has had nothing but bad luck. They think having it back will change their fortune.” He grinned. “Did you ever imagine such a thing would happen when you bought this dagger in Cross Roads?”
“No, I must say I did not. But I’m hoping they may be able to help us.”
“Yes, of course. Solmin told me they have an idea of a way into the citadel.”
“Really? Oh Benji, I hope they do. I was afraid after we came all this way there would be no way to reach my father.”
“Don’t worry, Belle.” He placed a hand on her arm. “We’ll find a way in.”
He glanced around the tent then said somewhat sheepishly, “I told them you were my mother. I hope you don’t mind. That makes you like the queen-mother or something.”
She didn’t know what to say at first. Certainly she wasn’t old enough to be his mother, but at the same time it was endearing that he should want such a thing. “I don’t mind.”
A grin spread over his face. “Thank you, Belle. You know, I have a feeling this is going to be an adventure of a lifetime.”
She nodded and sipped the juice. No doubt about that. Outside the tent, a stringed instrument picked out a haunting melody. Soon, other instruments picked up the tune and then were joined by the rhythm of drums beating a pulsing rhythm. A woman entered the tent carrying an armful of clothing.
“Kefmam, I have garments for you to wear to the ceremony,” she said. She laid them across an ottoman, then proceeded to pour water into a large basin and lay out towels for Belle to use in cleaning up.
“I have to go. I’ll see you at the ceremony,” Benji said. He stood up and held out a hand to lift her to her feet.
He looked down for a moment then whispered in her ear, “I wish you had been my mother.”
Before she could respond, he hurried out of the tent and left her alone. Tears welled in her eyes, but she couldn’t let such a sweet statement make her sad.
She chose the green and blue striped tunic and lo
ng swinging skirt, tying the tasseled leather strip around her waist. The woman returned and offered to apply her makeup, which consisted of black eyeliner with a gold sparkling paste she painted on her eyelids. She crushed small red berries in a bowl and rubbed the paste onto Belle’s lips. Then she threaded a string of gold coins among Belle’s long auburn tresses.
The woman made the strange hooting sound and led her out of the tent by the hand, shouting words Belle did not recognize. The rest of the tribe gathered around an immense bonfire in the center of the tent village. The crowd gave a shout of approval when she appeared and cheered her as she walked across the sand. She smiled and waved a hand, feeling ridiculous.
She searched through the mass of moving bodies to find Benji sitting on a raised platform covered with thick rugs, leaning back on a bank of pillows. Very regal. Solmin sat on one side of him and a beaming Armani on the other. She was dressed in a similar outfit to Belle’s with the addition of a headband of silver coins on her head. Her black hair hung loose about her shoulders.
Good lord, they were like children playing king and queen with their adoring subjects egging them on. The Mandagol acted truly ecstatic about the return of the dagger and held nothing back in showing their approval of their new Kef. Off to the right, stood Sam, Jasper and Rett also in new tribal clothing of tunics, loose pants and knee high boots. Sashes tied around their waists held daggers and pistols. Rett caught her eye and raised a hand. She weaved through the crowd to join them.
“All hail the queen mum,” Rett said laughing.
“Stuff it,” she replied, but she couldn’t stop her lips twitching at their absurd situation.
“Here, have some wine.” Sam handed her a silver cup and she took it gratefully.
As the sun fell and alcohol flowed, the celebration intensified. Wood added to the bonfire sent orange flames and yellow sparks into the air. Solmin rose and raised a gak horn to his lips. The deep throaty sound bellowed out across the camp and the revelers fell silent.
“Fellow Mandagols. For thousands of years we have roamed these sands and lived our lives as independent people. We were led by the dagger and our lives prospered.” Some cheers erupted but Solmin raised a hand.