by Rose Estes
Braldt acted swiftly, kicking dirt over the fire, plunging them into darkness as Beast rose up on his hind legs, now nearly half Braldt’s height, and danced on his toes, giving little hopping leaps as he peered intently into the darkness, yipping sharply.
Braldt did not attempt to silence the pup for whatever had caused his alarm had no doubt seen the fire extinguished and knew that they were warned. The pup fell silent of his own volition, whining softly and trotting back and forth nervously.
“What…?”
“Not now,” Braldt said, swiftly gathering up their few possessions and thrusting them at Keri. “Take these!” Then he scooped Carn up from where he lay, ignoring his muttered queries, leaped the narrow stream, and trotted off into the darkness without even looking to see if Beast and Keri were following.
Beast appeared beside him almost immediately, and after a moment he could hear Keri following as well. Carn was heavy, a dead weight that he knew he could not carry for long without tiring. He paused to settle his weight more comfortably and to listen, but heard nothing but the sounds of the night, the mournful cry of a night bird and the chittering of insects in the dry grass. Keri appeared silently at his side, asking no questions.
The rising moon was small, a thin sliver of silvery light, in its earliest phase, casting little light on the scene. For a moment, he thought he saw something, a movement, a passage of bodies, but then it was gone and did not reappear.
But Beast showed no diminishment of concern, rising up on his hind legs frequently, peering forth into the darkness with his strange vertically slitted eyes. The pupils opened wide at night, allowing him to see like a cat, and his head moved back and forth while he whimpered and growled low in his throat, his small body trembling, shaking visibly. He had no trouble seeing whatever danger stalked them and from his behavior it was apparent that the danger had not abated.
“I do not know what it is,” Braldt said in a soft undertone, whispering directly into Keri’s ear. “But he would not behave like this, were there not some very real danger. We must find a place of safety until the dawning.”
Saying was easier than doing for there was little light and they were traveling over unfamiliar ground that rose slowly but constantly beneath their feet. The trees, what few there were, became fewer still. The underbrush thinned and became a mere cushion underfoot. There was no camouflage, nothing to hide them from whatever it was that had alerted Beast. Braldt stopped and looked around, searching for some place where they might take cover that would provide them with safety.
The land rose and fell on all sides in a series of low, smooth-topped mounds like little islands of mud built by a child after the rain, then stranded after the puddle dried. It appeared to be a watershed, a drainage for the larger hills and mountains that rose in the distance. There was no cover, no place to hide. Their only choice was at the base of the mounds; perhaps they could find a cave or lose their pursuers in the myriad of confusing channels.
Braldt signaled to Keri to follow and made his way down the slope in a slithering rush of stones and gravel. Beast preceded them, his tail curled above his back, seemingly more comfortable in the dark gully than he had been on the higher elevations.
It was Keri who found the place they had been seeking. It was a narrow gulch, its mouth solidly plugged with twigs, branches, and leaves. Braldt would have passed it by without thinking, but Keri caught at his arm and brought him back, nodding at the tall mound of debris that rose higher than their heads.
He stopped and studied the mass, seeing its possibilities and nodding in agreement though angered that he had not seen it himself. It was so very obvious, so conspicuous as a hiding place, that it would be overlooked for that very reason.
Braldt placed Carn on the ground and felt his eyes upon his back. But Carn had not been named the Stalker for nothing and had sized up the situation swiftly. There was no need to tell him to keep silent but Beast was another matter. He danced nervously from one paw to the other, rising up on his hind legs with great frequency and whining softly.
Keri had already begun to dig into the mass, hollowing out a nest into which she thrust their few possessions. Braldt followed her lead, digging out a hole large enough to hold the three of them, and Keri added her efforts to his until the hole was deemed large enough. Dragging his injured leg behind him, Carn struggled into the nest and covered himself with the soft debris. Braldt piled the stuff in front of him until he was satisfied that there was nothing to be seen, nothing unusual to show that the pile had been disturbed. He motioned Keri to go next, but she shook her head stubbornly and nodded to him. He hesitated for a moment and then did as she wanted, knowing that she was right. He settled himself in the waiting hollow and hissed to Beast to join him. The pup would have none of it and would not even meet Braldt’s eyes.
Braldt was still trying to call the pup when Keri closed the hole, silencing his efforts. He felt the stuff cover him, cover his face and nostrils, and felt a moment’s panic that he stifled. After a moment, he found that he could carefully move within the space. Any abrupt movement caused the entire mass to shift and threatened to expose him, but slow movement enabled him to clear a breathing space as well as a small opening to see. His hands were closed upon sword and dagger and there was nothing left to do but wait.
Beside him there were small cracklings and whisperings of sound as Carn settled himself as well. Keri patted a few handfuls of leaves in place, satisfying herself that all was well, and then burrowed into the face of the mound and settled herself into place with a minimum of noise. There was nothing left to betray their presence other than Beast who snuffled at the wall of debris and whined, then began digging furiously with both paws. Braldt hissed angrily and Beast barked in return, clearly puzzled. His attention was then caught by a sound farther up the gulch and his large ears swiveled forward.
Braldt stifled an impulse to sneeze as well as the desire to scratch, for the clinging stuff was dry and itchy and home to numerous insects and other crawling things. He watched Beast intently. They had not seen or heard anything unusual, nor caught any sign of an enemy, but had fled their camp and hidden themselves away at no more than the pup’s say so. For a moment, Braldt wondered if he had been wrong to do so. The pup’s reaction could have been caused by anything, a wandering omnicat or a merebear or even an unusual scent carried on the wind, for the pup was relatively young and could easily be mistaken. But Braldt had learned to value the pup’s keen nose during their time in the amphitheater when the pup was even younger still. He had not been mistaken then and never had he acted thus except to warn of approaching danger.
Even as he contemplated the possibility that the pup could be mistaken, Beast began to growl fiercely and darted forward, barking wildly, disappearing from Braldt’s narrow range of vision. Then he was back, standing on his hind legs, head jutted forward as though straining to see.
A wild cacophony of shrill barks broke out as the pup dropped to all fours, the fur rising all over his body until he appeared to be twice his normal size. He stood his ground, head held low, barking frenziedly. Braldt turned his head to the side, desperate to see what the pup was seeing, wanting to leap out of hiding and wield his sword instead of hiding in a pile of leaves like some cowardly crawler, but caution held him in place for there was more at stake than his own valor.
A spear flew out of the darkness and thunked into the hard-packed earth next to the pup, striking him with its shaft as it fell to the ground. The pup screamed as though he had been blooded and leaped into the air. When his feet touched earth, he was off and running, down the defile, away from the approaching enemy.
Braldt’s hands closed on his weapons and he peered forward intently. Could it be slavers this far to the east? Never had he heard of such a thing for even though they were nonbelievers and did not worship Mother Moon, even they honored the borders of the Forbidden Lands; their disbelief lent them no protection and they too could be struck down by the spears of the gods if they v
entured beyond the borders.
The mutter of low voices came to Braldt within his leafy cocoon and he stilled all movement, tuning all his senses toward the approaching enemy. But even though he had expected almost anything, he was not prepared for what he saw.
Karks! A party of six males and three females, all carrying spears, crudely made and poorly balanced but spears nonetheless. And even more startling was the fact that they were speaking! No kark had ever been heard to speak! Never had such a thing been suspected! Braldt was dumbfounded.
The karks trotted past the hiding place without slowing, although one female, slender and more upright than the others, turned her head and looked directly into Braldt’s eyes. He thought he saw a flicker of recognition in those eyes, as though she had seen him clearly, but she made no sound and did not call the others down on him, and they quickly passed out of sight. The sound of their voices, thick and guttural, could be heard long after they were gone, carried back to them by the shape of the gully or the wind. The words were oddly formed and stiff as though spoken by an outsider who had only just learned the language, but still, it was clearly speech.
They were arguing among themselves as to whether or not to continue on for the encampment was behind them and others would be wondering where they had gone. Nor were they entirely certain as to their quarry. Only one or perhaps two of the party had actually seen them; the others were arguing against going on with nothing but a lupebeast to be seen.
And why would a lupebeast be in the company of the Duroni, asked one, suggesting that perhaps the viewer had been mistaken. Since when had a lupebeast learned to build a fire, came the reply, and none too kindly. It seemed that arguments were not limited to civilized people but existed among the karks as well.
The voices faded then as the karks moved farther down the gully. Still Braldt did not move even though the leafy debris had crept into every crevice of his body and was itching unbearably. There was still the feeling of danger. The mound that was Carn began to shift and Braldt’s hand tunneled through the debris and caught hold of Carn’s arm and squeezed tight, signaling him to stay.
No sooner had he done so than the karks reappeared on their right, moving silently, without words. Had Carn continued to move or had he emerged, it would have been the death of them. As it was, a few leaves and a small branch slithered off the face of the pile, but drew no notice. From the grim expressions on the karks’ heavy features, it appeared that there had been some dissension in their ranks.
As the pack moved past them, the female turned her head once more and stared directly at Braldt, seeking out and holding his eyes. A shock jolted him as he held the contact, unblinking, until she passed from view. There could be no doubt about it! The female kark had known that he was there! And yet she had made no move to betray him! Why? How could such a thing be so? Braldt was stunned, his mind reeling under the strange implications, and he wished more than anything that Auslic was there to help him understand what had happened.
They remained in their hiding place for a long time, all of them shaken and fearful, wrapped in their own thoughts. Only when Beast reappeared and sniffed at the wall of concealment before sitting and scratching with an apparent lack of concern, did they venture forth to stand and stare at one another in utter and complete amazement.
9
They continued on throughout the night, making their way even deeper and higher into the hills, supporting Carn between them. The tiny crescent of moon had long since ascended and descended the dark roof of the sky when they came to a final halt in a thick copse of silverwoods. The shimmering leaves, glossy silver on one side, opalescent on the other, shivered and trembled on their fragile stems, perhaps anticipating the not-too-distant moment when they would fall from the branches in a brilliant cascade of glittering light to die on the cold, hard ground. But for now, they clung to the trees like a dense coat, and the constant movement would hide their own, offering some small degree of safety.
There had been no further sign of the karks, nor did Beast give any indication of alarm, trotting behind them with his tail curled over his back or frolicking ahead biting and snapping at shadows. He showed no reticence at their nearness now, and apparently held no grudge toward Carn at whose feet he curled up, wrapping his tail over his nose and going instantly to sleep.
Braldt would have liked nothing more than to emulate the pup for his weariness was bone deep and his thoughts offered him no comfort. But there was Carn’s ankle to be dealt with and Keri as well.
Carn leaned against the shaggy bark of an immense, ancient silverwood and grimaced as Braldt rotated the ankle. Braldt studied him intently. “Is it bad?”
“It’s bad enough and it’ll be stiff for a few dawnings, but don’t worry about me, I won’t hold you back. If I do, just leave me behind and I’ll catch up.”
“Don’t be a hero, Carn. We can’t afford heroes. We must stick together; a man alone would not last long out here.”
“I can help,” Keri said simply. “You need me. Don’t let your pride get in the way of truth, you know that it is so.”
Braldt stared at her, trying to find the right words and finding none. They did need her, but it was wrong for her to be with them. It was a man’s deed, a thing between men and the gods. It was not fitting for a woman to accompany them on such a sacred mission.
Only men were allowed to attend the inner circles of worship and only men were allowed to become priests and learn the highest mysteries. They themselves had been allowed to enter the Forbidden Lands only on the direct order of the priests, and were spared the deadly bolts of the gods that would have struck them down otherwise. What would the presence of a woman do? Would the gods be angered and kill them all with their fiery bolts? Braldt did not know the answer.
Yet denying Keri’s help would be impossible for despite his brave words, Carn would not be able to travel without their assistance and to leave him behind was unthinkable—if the gods did not kill him, the animals or the karks would. Nor could he allow Keri to return alone for it would be even more dangerous for her to travel by herself. Yet he could not risk leaving Carn alone for the time that it took to bring her back. Even if they had had the time.
“We will sleep on this problem. Perhaps the answer will be clear when our minds are less tired. Sleep now and I will keep watch. I will waken you when the sun is at its peak. From now on, we will journey only at night.”
Dragging her robe up over her shoulder, Keri settled herself between two roots of a great silverwood, cradled her head on her arm, and was asleep before her body had fitted itself to the contour of the land.
Braldt climbed high into the branches at the edge of the copse and watched as the misty darkness faded into grey only to be tinted by streaks of crimson pink as Sun the Giver crept slowly over the rim of the Forbidden Lands and warmed the earth with its presence. The leaves of the tree wagged back and forth in constant motion, twisting this way and then that, although Braldt could detect no wind. The effect was hypnotic after a while and Braldt had to fight to shut them out of his consciousness, to keep the rhythm from creeping into his mind.
He concentrated on watching the lower elevations, the way they had come, watching for karks or whatever might come. Already, the Duroni lands were lost in the wavering line of blue that marked the far horizon, although Braldt tried to tell himself that he could still see the tip of the Guardian Stone.
He had traveled farther than most men would go in their entire lifetimes, gone to strange places and seen strange sights, and yet he was loath to leave the Duroni borders behind him this time. Somehow he sensed that when and if he returned, nothing would ever be the same again, and sadness rested on his shoulders like a cloak.
He watched throughout the coolness of the dawning, feeling the dew mist and bead on his chilled flesh, heard the first tentative, sleepy chirps of the birds, and saw a silent herd of split horns browse from bush to bush and disappear as silently as they had arrived.
There were ka
rks, as well. Two bands of them passed beneath him on the lower elevations, trotting swiftly through the complex channels of the water course, spears in hand with no hesitation in their step as though they knew precisely where they were going and were in a hurry to get there. Later, a third party passed not thirty steps from their place of concealment although Braldt did not see them until they appeared on the slope below him. He stiffened and held himself completely still until they were out of sight. He prayed that none of his companions would choose that moment to waken, and none of them did.
The party too was laden with spears and heavy, stone-weighted clubs and ran in a determined line. Braldt stared after them, brow furrowed with thought, and wondered where they were going.
He was grateful when Sun the Giver reached the appointed spot and he was able to waken Keri who opened her eyes, instantly alert at his approach. She listened to his report without comment, taking in the news of the armed karks with an unexpected calmness. Taking a water gourd and a round of hard cheese, she tucked the end of her skirt into the waistband and disappeared into the branches.
Braldt fell into a deep and dreamless sleep, his exhausted body demanding its due. He did not hear Keri when she descended the tree at the end of her watch, nor notice when Carn hoisted himself into position, but slept soundly until nightfall.
Upon waking, he could not think where he was for the sigh of wind in the trees was soothing and reassuring. Beast appeared and snuffled wetly at his face, and then memory returned, rushing back to fill him with alarm. Why had they allowed him to sleep so long? Had they been overcome by karks while he slept? Were they dead? But everything was functioning normally as he could see at a glance. A tiny, smokeless fire had been built within a ring of stones and a gourd was suspended above it filling the air with a pleasing aroma.