by Rose Estes
Braldt was shocked at his appearance. The Madrelli’s eyes were ringed with dark black circles that extended from the bridge of his nose to his ears, which were delicately bound up in thin bandages and fixed in place with sticking plaster. The whites of his eyes were awash with burst blood vessels and the colors of his muzzle were faded and dull. But his posture was proud and erect, even though he paced forward on stiff legs. Braldt knew that he must be in extreme pain, but he also knew that it had been necessary.
“I have been telling Batta Flor that there was no reason for him to have come so soon. He should be home, gathering his strength,” said Uba Mintch, “but he will not listen to me.”
“I am glad that you have come,” said Braldt as he crossed the room to greet his former opponent, extending his hand in a greeting as he would have done to one of his own comrades. Beast detached himself from Sytha’s side and trotted forward on stiff legs, hair standing up along the ridge of his spine, and sniffed at Batta Flor’s legs, then turned away with disinterest, all sign of animosity gone.
After a moment of hesitation, Batta Flor took Braldt’s hand and clasped it in his own. His grip was powerful, and large as Braldt’s hand was, it vanished in the Madrelli’s grip. Once again he realized his good fortune in winning the contest.
“Did you mean what you said,” Batta Flor asked abruptly, without any exchange of pleasantries.
“Yes,” replied Braldt, his hand still buried within the Madrelli’s firm grip. “I wish nothing but your friendship.”
“And for me to take you to the cavern,” added Batta Flor.
“That too,” admitted Braldt, meeting the Madrelli’s gaze.
“And you give up all claim to Sytha Trubal for now and all time?” asked Batta Flor.
“I do,” Braldt replied levelly, hearing the soft gasp that came from Keri and Sytha Trubal, “if such a thing is agreeable to Sytha Trubal as well. Her wishes must also be considered in this matter.”
“Sytha Trubal, will you have me to mate,” Batta Flor asked softly, his red-rimmed eyes staring directly into hers.
“I will accept your proposal,” replied Sytha Trubal, “for the good of the tribe.”
“And for no other reason?” asked Batta Flor, dropping Braldt’s hand and turning away from him as though he did not exist.
A crimson flush suffused Sytha’s muzzle and she lowered her head, her reaction all the answer that was required. Gently, Batta Flor gathered her into his immense arms and she rested her head on his chest. They stayed like that for a moment and no one spoke. Finally, Batta Flor said, “I will do this thing that I have promised. I will take these two-foots to the cavern and let them see for themselves that it is impossible to enter. Then I will return for you and we will be mated.”
He turned to Braldt. “We leave at first dawning. Be ready.”
“But, but… neither of you are ready to travel!” protested Sytha Trubal. “Both of you are hurt and need to rest!”
“Surely it would be better if you waited a day or two,” said Uba Mintch.
“No good can come of waiting, waiting is for women, unless the two-foots want to wait,” said Batta Flor, his lips drawn back in a sneer.
“This two-foot sees no reason to wait,” said Braldt, even though his arm was aching badly. If the Madrelli could think of traveling with his injuries, then he would go as well.
“We leave at dawn, be ready,” said Batta Flor, punctuating his words with a stabbing finger, and then he was gone.
The serving girl, her giggles stilled for once, roused them before dawn, and as they assembled in the great room before the blazing fireplace and took the steaming mugs of sour berry tea and the hot, buttered grain patties from the silver tray, they saw that Uba Mintch was already seated, his old bones soaking up the welcome heat.
“I will not wish you well on your mission, for if you succeed, you will bring ruin upon us all. But I will pray that no harm befalls you.”
“To whom or what do you pray, Uba Mintch, if as you say, Mother Moon is naught but a lifeless bit of rock and all our gods are but a sham?” Carn asked bitterly.
“We Madrelli have traveled to many worlds, seen many strange sights. If we were to tell you of our experiences, you would not believe us. This world, beautiful as it is, is but a small dot in the universe that stretches beyond. Despite the cold words of the masters, to whom everything is but a part of the plan, I believe that there is something more, something that cannot be explained, something too big for even the masters to comprehend. It does not have a name, the word god will serve as well as any other. It is to that greater power that I utter my small prayers.”
The old Madrelli uttered these words while staring into the blazing fire and almost seemed to be speaking to himself. Now, he turned and looked directly at Braldt, and almost for the first time, Braldt realized how old Uba Mintch must be, saw the grey fuzz spreading out from the base of the muzzle, saw that his hands trembled slightly even when in repose, saw the haze that clouded his eyes and knew that his end was drawing near.
Uba Mintch nodded once, as though confirming Braldt’s insights, and spoke with a great calmness. “You take with you on this mission a heavy burden, for you carry with you the fate of your people as well as mine. Think carefully before you act, act cautiously and without haste or anger, for what you do will affect us all. May you travel in safety and return in health.”
These words were spoken as a benediction, and turning, Braldt saw that CaRN and Keri and Batta Flor, who had arrived without their notice, had taken it as such for all were subdued and silent. Somehow, as they gathered up their packs and filed out of the home with Uba Mintch, Sytha Trubal, and the little one waving their good-byes from the doorstep, he knew that none of them would ever see Uba Mintch again.
The valley of the Madrelli was soon left behind as the morning mists closed in around them, growing thicker as they climbed. The elevation rose steeply and they were forced to follow hard on Batta Flor’s footsteps or risk being lost on the mountain. Batta Flor remained silent and they all found themselves wondering whether it was his intention to lose them, slipping away in the dense fog.
He called a halt by midmorning and it was a welcome relief for their legs were aching with fatigue and their hearts were pounding. They collapsed where they stood, hiding their exhaustion as best they were able, for none of them were willing to admit that they could not keep up with a Madrelli.
Batta Flor set about lighting a small fire with a cube of compressed wood chips, impregnated with a waxy substance. It lit instantly and soon the blessed warmth of the tart berry tea radiated through their bellies, restoring them.
Braldt stood up to stretch his aching muscles and saw that the fog had burned off the lower elevations and was astonished at how far they had come, the valley appeared to be no more than a child’s plaything far below them. Batta Flor joined him and together they stared down at the peaceful scene below.
“I did not realize that we would climb so high,” Braldt said, hoping to engage the Madrelli in conversation.
“This high and higher still,” replied Batta Flor, his eyes still on the village. “If you can keep up.”
“Do not worry about us,” said Carn, “we can follow wherever you lead.”
Batta Flor turned to contemplate Carn, the black circles under his inflamed eyes giving him a brutish and malignant appearance. “This is no game, two-foot. The way to the cavern will be difficult and dangerous. I do not even know if it can be done. I have given my word to take you to the cavern and I will do it if I can. But I will take no stupid risks, nor will I be badgered. I am the leader here, you are but the followers, and my word is law.”
Carn smarted visibly under the Madrelli’s words and he stepped forward, invading that personal space immediately in front of the Madrelli, stepping so close as to present a challenge that could not go unanswered.
Anxious to avoid a confrontation, Braldt took Batta Flor by the elbow and turned him aside. “Tell me, if you wer
e working regularly in this cavern, surely it must be close by. Why is it necessary for us to travel so far and why will the going be so difficult?”
Batta Flor did not answer, glaring back at Carn over his shoulder, but Braldt continued walking and asking his quiet questions and after a moment Batta Flor allowed himself to be distracted.
“We flooded the chamber, this I have already told you. It is impossible to enter the chamber from below for the river runs through the cavern. The only way it can be approached is from above, the way we ourselves entered. I do not understand what good you think will come of this expedition. There is nothing to see but an empty riverbed and a fall of rock.”
“I do not know myself, but I must see it for myself for the life of my chief depends upon retrieving the box with the red mark upon its lid.”
“Then your chief must die for there is no way to enter the cavern and live. Don’t you understand, it’s flooded! Surely the box you speak of has been torn away by the waters, but even if it still remains, its contents will have been destroyed by the water!”
Braldt looked into Batta Flor’s eyes and saw that the Madrelli was speaking the truth, or what he thought to be the truth, and for the first time he felt his hope dwindle within him as he contemplated the thought of failure, tried to visualize a life without the presence of Auslic. “Please,” he said quietly, “please just take us there so that I may see this place for myself. I must know that I have done everything within my power.” The two men stared at each other, linked by their promises, and seemed to see each other for the first time. Batta Flor nodded and some of the anger seemed to leave him.
He returned to the fire, poured the rest of the hot tea into a leather pouch that he slung over his shoulder, then kicked stones and dust over the small blaze, extinguishing it instantly. It seemed colder and more lonely without the tiny blaze. Picking up his spear and ignoring Carn completely, Batta Flor stepped onto the trail once more without looking back to see if the rest of the party was following him.
Keri stepped into place behind him, striding along easily, seemingly untired by the morning’s work, adjusting the straps of her pack and admonishing Beast who snapped at her heels with her every step.
Braldt grabbed Carn just as he was about to join Keri and swung him around with some force. “Just what is it that you are trying to do?” he asked in an angry whisper. “This one is the only hope we have of reaching that cavern and finding a way in. The only hope we have of saving Auslic. Why are you trying to start a fight. Do you really think that you could win such a fight?”
“I would do better than you, brother,” Carn said with a sneer. “You fought like a child, kicking him in the privates and pinching his ears. I’m surprised you didn’t try biting. Why didn’t you kill him and show these animals what fighting really is?”
“Carn,” Braldt said, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself. “I did not want to kill him; I wanted him to live so that he could take us to the cavern so we can find the box and bring it to Auslic.”
“You want to be chief and nothing more,” said Carn. “There was no water in our vision, the chamber was dry. This whole story is nothing but a kark trick. This journey is but an excuse to kill us off one at a time; I cannot understand why you do not see it. Or maybe you’re part of it. Maybe this is all some plan that you and that old kark brewed up during one of your little fireside chats. Well, you may have fooled Keri, but not me, brother. I will be watching you, you and that kark, all of the time. Remember that and remember too that I cannot be tricked by foul blows and childish tricks. When you fight me, you will lose.”
Braldt listened to Carn’s words and heard the hatred in them. He wondered how long those feelings had been hidden. Had it always been so? Where was the brother he had loved, what had become of the bond that had joined them. And most of all, he wondered who would win, if ever they were forced to fight.
The last of the fog burned off by midday and Braldt almost wished that it had remained for it had hidden the great heights to which they had climbed. The mountain they were ascending rose high above them, its peak concealed by a swirl of heavy clouds. All around them were a multitude of lower peaks, barren and lifeless, shining in the cold, clear air.
The trail, if it could be called that, was a mere thread that picked its way from one narrow ledge to the next with nothing but empty space awaiting the incautious step. Braldt found himself wondering what or who had made such a trail, for he had seen no signs of life since beginning their climb. A cold wind blew across the mountain, plucking at their clothes and chilling them to the bone.
They were clambering around a tricky bit of rock that was cracked and fissured, above, below, and through the trail itself, with no other route available to them, when Braldt heard Beast’s high shrill bark of alarm, then Keri cried out in fright. Batta Flor uttered a curse and scrambled forward, pressing Keri hard against the crumbling rock face with a hurried command to stay and not move. Brandishing his spear before him, he lunged forward and disappeared from sight.
Braldt could not see what it was that had alarmed them so, nor could he pass Keri and Carn who stood on the trail before him. But Keri was not one who took orders well, and ignoring Batta Flor’s command, she followed swiftly on his heels, drawing her own blade as she ran. Carn, of course, was not one to be left behind and he drew his short sword and his dagger and joined the fray that was now a mixed cacophony of hissing and high-pitched barks, as well as yells and loud cries. Leaping forward over the last bit of crumbling rock, Braldt turned the corner and was confronted by such creatures as he had never before seen or imagined in all his life.
They were lizards of a sort, but large, standing as high as his knee, their heads rising even higher, with powerful tails, twice the length of their bodies and massive, high-domed heads. Their heads were long and slender as were their jaws, which were filled with long, sharp teeth. There were three of them, the largest nearly as long as Braldt himself. The second was a lighter shade of blue and Braldt guessed it to be a female. The third was a smaller version of the adults, but no less dangerous from the look of its wildly thrashing tail and the deep, bellowing grunts that rose from its throat. They stood on short, stocky bowed legs, tipped with six long, curved claws and a seventh claw located at the rear of each paw that served as an anchor, holding them securely to the rock at near-vertical angles.
Beast did not seem to recognize his danger for he danced forward and back, nipping at the lizards’ legs, unmindful of their powerful jaws that could easily sever his head from his neck. Batta Flor struck out with his spear at the smallest of the lizards that stood nearest them and Beast seized his opportunity and darted forward, grabbing the lizard’s leg and yanking hard. The lizard did not even move and his leg slid out of Beast’s mouth with a sound like two sword points clashing. Beast tumbled back and would have fallen off the edge of the trail had he not rolled against Batta Flor’s leg. He shook his head as though stunned and whined with distress. The lizard’s leg showed not the slightest mark of Beast’s teeth.
It soon became apparent to Braldt that Batta Flor was not making any real attempt to strike the lizard, but merely brandished his spear in its face and yelled loudly. The lizards swung their heavy heads from side to side, hissing and grunting out their deep bellows. But they did not move.
Then, the largest of the three creatures advanced on them, pacing slowly and deliberately forward, its head bobbing and weaving, its long forked tongue, an even deeper shade of blue, flicking back and forth as though tasting the air. The lizard’s eyes were quite small and were located high up on either side of its head. It could not see them straight on and was forced to turn its head to one side in order to keep them in sight.
Batta Flor backed up slowly, the others forced in turn to step back as well, but retreat was not to be one of their options for as Braldt’s heel came down upon the fault-riven ledge, it broke beneath his weight with a loud crack and the entire shelf plunged into the cold abyss.
/> They were trapped. The lizards were advancing on them with a slow, calm sense of assurance, the slope of the mountain was far too steep for them to ascend, and there was nothing behind or beside them but empty air. Batta Flor stood his ground and struck out with his spear, but to little avail. The lead lizard looked up and, almost as an afterthought, hooked the spear with one of its claws and sent it clattering over the edge.
Braldt thought rapidly as the others picked up rocks and threw them at the lizards. It was only an act of futile desperation and the rocks merely bounced off the tough skin with no effect. Batta Flor fumbled with the pouch that he had slung over his shoulder and pulled the stopper out, sending a jet of hot, steaming tea arcing into the lizard’s gaping maw. The hot liquid struck the soft tissue that lined the lizard’s mouth and it bellowed and jerked back, swinging its head from side to side in obvious pain.
Encouraged by his success, Batta turned the odd weapon on the other two, scalding the smaller creature’s eyes and missing the third completely as the last bit of the hot fluid fell short of its target. But Batta Flor’s effort had given Braldt an idea, and rummaging in his pouch, his fingers closed on a handful of the wax-impregnated pellets. Striving for the necessary calm, he struck his fire-starting stones together and ignited the pellets. Closing his mind to the pain of the flames, he picked them up and tossed them into the open mouths of the lizards.
His plan, devised in haste, succeeded far better than he could have imagined. Two of the pellets missed their mark entirely, but the third landed in the maw of the male and the tiny flames, fanned by the rush of air, leaped high, curling around the lizard’s jaws, burning the soft tissue that lined its throat and incinerating its tongue. The melting wax aided the spread of the flames and the furious thrashing of the creature’s head and its agonized bellows served only to increase the conflagration. Soon, the entire body of the lizard was wrapped in flames and its eyes had been seared by the heat. The air was filled with the stink of roasting flesh, and with a final convolution of pain, the lizard’s struggles brought it to the edge of the path and it fell over the edge still screaming in agony.