The next trick was to get dressed. I knew it would be freezing outside, and I had to protect myself, so I worked my way into some of the leather clothes I found lying around. The toughest part was lacing up the leather shoes. At least my left hand still worked. Between that, my good right hand, and my teeth, I was able to strap myself up. The final touch was a furry cloak that I threw over my shoulders. I hoped it would be enough. There were no sleds in the cave. I was going to have to walk down that mountain, through the snow. It was going to be cold. Really cold. I picked up the final dado weapon, thinking I could use it as a walking stick. I leaned on the long rod, testing to see if I could hold my own weight. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. It was time to get going. As I stepped out of the dark cavern, into the bright light of the three suns of Denduron, I had real doubts about whether or not I would be able to make it down that mountain.
My confidence bottomed out when I saw the bony spikes of quig spines sticking up in various places around the snowfield in front of me. At least they hadn’t yet smelled the blood that was pooling inside the cavern. I knew that would only be a matter of time, and wind direction. I had to move. Walking across the snow was hard. There was a thin crust of ice on top that wasn’t strong enough to hold my weight. I’d take a step and plant my foot, but as soon as I put weight on it, I’d break through the top layer and sink down to midcalf. Every time. Over and over. It was like walking in cold mud. I was glad I had grabbed the dado rod. It was the only thing that kept me from toppling. If I had gone over, I didn’t think I’d be able to pull myself back up.
I chose a route that kept me going downhill and as far away from the dormant quigs as possible. All I needed was for them to catch a whiff of my blood, and it would be like: “Come and get it!” Each time my foot broke through the snow with a loud crunch, I winced. Did they hear that? Would they hear the next one? I trudged a few hundred yards before clearing the final, buried quig. Huge relief. From then on, each agonizing step took me farther from danger…
And closer to exhaustion. I was freezing. Literally. My feet were so cold I couldn’t feel them. The bleeding had almost stopped, but I don’t think it was because of my makeshift bandages. I think it was freezing up. It would have been a tough trip even if I’d been healthy, but after losing all that blood I was getting weaker by the second. After a torturous hour I still couldn’t see to the end of the snowfield. I had made this journey a few times on a sled, traveling ten times as fast, and it still took a long while. When I came back up the mountain, it had been on horseback or in a mechanized dygo. I had never done this on foot. I was in trouble.
After another hour, things started to spin. I think I was being pulled forward more by gravity than by my own horsepower. I stopped thinking about what I might find on Denduron. I pretty much stopped thinking about everything. My brain was too blood starved for that. Colors swirled. I knew that I would soon pass out. Far ahead I saw the snow was thinning, giving way to brown dirt. I would soon reach the end of the snowfield. I was also reaching the end of the line. I wasn’t going to make it to the Milago village.
Far up ahead I sensed movement. In my dazed state it looked as if the distant trees were moving toward me. That didn’t make sense. Or did it? I couldn’t think clearly about anything. The trees seemed to be moving in a line toward me. I still had enough sense to realize that was impossible. Still, there was no other explanation, other than the fact that maybe I had lost my mind. Or maybe it was a mirage? Do mirages only appear in the desert? I didn’t know. I was too dazed to think straight. Instead of looking at the moving trees, I should have been looking where I was stepping, because my foot hit a small boulder. It couldn’t have been more than six inches high, but it was enough to trip me. I fell forward, face-first, and slammed onto the gravel-covered ground. It didn’t even hurt. I was too far gone for that. I couldn’t move. My energy was gone. My feet were frozen. I had lost the will to move. I kept looking down the mountain at the moving trees, which of course weren’t moving trees at all. They were Bedoowan knights on horseback. An entire line of them. There had to have been thirty across, followed by another line and another. They walked in tight formation like an army.
An advancing army. My throat clutched. Why were the Bedoowan knights marching up the mountain? “There!” I heard a voice shout.
A lone knight charged forward, headed for me. He galloped up the steep slope, his horse’s hooves kicking up small pebbles in his wake. For a second I thought he would trample me. To be honest, I didn’t care. The knight pulled up a few yards short and leaned forward on the horse to get a better look at the strange, frozen, bleeding guy who was nearly passed out miles from nowhere.
A second knight galloped up and stopped next to the first.
“Is it a Lowsee scout?” the second knight asked.
“No,” the first knight answered. He dismounted and walked cautiously toward me. “He is too light-skinned to be a Lowsee.”
What the heck was a Lowsee?
“Dead?” the second knight asked. He didn’t even bother getting down from his horse.
The first knight knelt down to find out. When our eyes met, his opened even wider in surprise.
“You!” he exclaimed, as if he recognized me.
“Who is it?” the second knight asked, finally getting off his horse.
“You are hurt,” the first knight said, actually sounding worried about me. “We will get help.” He stood up straight and called back to his advancing army. “A stretcher!” he called. “Hurry!”
By this time the second knight was staring at me too.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“It is Pendragon,” the first knight answered. “We owe this man our future. Without him, we would not have the weapons to attack the Lowsee.”
The second knight shot me a quick, surprised look. “This is the man who unearthed the tak?”
“It is,” the first knight answered. “He has changed the future of all Denduron.”
It was the absolute last thing I wanted to hear. I had become the merchant of death.
I closed my eyes and let darkness fall.
JOURNAL#35
(CONTINUED)
DENDURON
Itfelt like my shoulder was on fire. It really did. I actually thought it was burning. I forced myself to wake up, thinking I had to find some water and put out the flames. I wasn’t on fire of course. I was feeling the effects of a foot-long double slash that ran across my shoulder onto my chest. I cracked open an eye to try and get my bearings. Disoriented? Yeah, you could say that. I stole a quick glance at my arm to see there were no flames, only a clean white bandage that wrapped my left arm to my side like I was a half mummy. Oh, right. The quig. Ouch. I twisted my head one way to see that I was in a hut. A big one. I was on my back on a cot. A long string of cots were lined up next to mine. All were empty. I twisted my head back to the left to see even more cots lined up. Looking past my feet toward the opposite wall, I saw still another row of cots. Also empty. It seemed I was the only guest in this very big hospital. “Would you like some water?”
I shifted my gaze to the voice and saw a young girl headed my way with a pitcher and a cup. She may have been pretty, with long dark hair tied up into a practical knot, but this was no candy striper. She wore the lightweight, black leather armor of a Bedoowan knight. I nodded. The girl knelt by the cot, lifted my head with one hand, and brought the cup to my lips. I took a small sip. I didn’t want to choke. It felt great. It was like washing away a coating of sand inside my throat.
“That’s enough,” she said as she gently lowered my head.
“Thank you,” I croaked. “Uh, where am I?”
“The hospital,” she answered. “You were lucky the advance force found you.”
I reached up with my right hand and felt my burning shoulder.
“One hundred and twenty stitches,” she said, as if reading my mind. “You lost a lot of blood. How did it happen?”
How the heck was
I supposed to answer that? I decided to tell the truth. Sort of. I was tired of playing games.
“Wild animal,” I answered. “He lost more blood than I did.”
“Why were you up on the mountain?” she asked. “Sightseeing.”
She gave me a strange look. I shrugged.
“No matter,” she said dismissively. “You are here now and you will survive. Your wound is already showing signs of healing. It is quite remarkable actually.”
I shrugged again. It hurt to shrug. I stopped shrugging.
“Why is the hospital so empty?” I asked. “Hard to believe that I’m the only sick guy around here.”
“It will not be empty for long,” she answered solemnly. “This ward was built to treat the wounded.”
“Lotta cots. Expecting more patients than normal?” I asked, confused.
She frowned. “It is what happens in war.”
“War?” I shouted, and sat up quickly. Just as quickly, I wished I hadn’t. My head spun. I wasn’t healing so fast after all. I dropped back down and closed my eyes, trying to hold on to consciousness.
“Rest,” she said professionally. “We will move you once the wounded begin to arrive.”
I think I slipped in and out of reality awhile. For how long I didn’t know. Images of the advancing Bedoowan army kept dancing through my head like a feverish nightmare. There was going to be a war. The Bedoowan knights who found me on the mountain were an advance team. Who were they going to fight? The knights talked about using tak, which meant the worst had happened. By digging out the tak to defend Ibara, I had given Saint Dane a second shot at Denduron. The turning point of the territory was the discovery of tak. By destroying the tak mine, I had only shifted the turning point. Worse, I feared that I had begun a chain of events that would be felt throughout Halla. Denduron was on the verge of a war. Dados had returned to Ibara. What else was happening? What would it all lead to? The answer was obvious.
Convergence.
History-changing events were being influenced by events on different territories. It was the ultimate mixing of worlds. The destiny of each territory was no longer its own. This was Saint Dane’s Convergence. I was the one who was given the task of stopping it. Instead, I was the one who started it. It made me wish that the slash from the quig had been a bit higher and hit my throat.
I was vaguely aware of people hurrying in and out of the large ward, preparing the cots for the wounded. Every so often somebody would check on me. I didn’t care. I wanted to die. I think a night went by. Maybe two. Ilost track of time, which is kind of an understatement, sinceIhad actually lost track of time the very first momentIstepped into the flume whenIwas fourteen. What made me finally rejoin reality was the feeling that somebody was standing over me, watching. Unlike the many caregivers who came and went, this person didn’t move. He kind of hovered there, as if waiting for me to say something. It gave me enough of an uneasy feeling that I willed myself to crawl from the darkness where I had been living. When I focused, I was surprised to see Rellin, the chief miner of the Milago. But something wasn’t right. He was wearing the armor of a Bedoowan knight. Stranger still, this armor had bright yellow stripes on both arms. It looked like a fancy-dress version of the familiar black armor.
“Welcome back, Pendragon!” Rellin exclaimed warmly. “I was afraid we had lost you.”
Rellin sat down on the cot next to me. I did my best to focus on him.
“I want to hear about your adventure,” he exclaimed. “Did the tak serve you well?”
It took me a few seconds to understand what he was asking. When I came to Denduron with Siry, I told Rellin that we needed to unearth more tak to help a tribe on the other side of the mountain. I didn’t mention that the people happened to be on the other side of the mountain… on a territory called Ibara.
“Yes” was the only answer I gave him. I didn’t want to tell him just how effective the tak had been.
“I am glad,” he said with a smile. “And I am glad that you have returned to us.”
“There’s going to be a war?” I asked.
Rellin smiled. He actually smiled. You’d think that somebody on the verge of war would be kind of, oh I don’t know, nervous? Sober? Tense? Not Rellin. The idea of going into battle made his eyes sparkle.
“The Lowsee are threatening our very existence by hoarding triptyte,” he explained. “Without it, our village would go dark. And all because they are greedy for glaze. What is more important? Light or wealth? They have chosen wealth. They will suffer for it.”
“You’re going to use tak on them,” I said softly.
“We are going to destroy them!” Rellin exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “We have given them every chance to make a fair arrangement for their triptyte. They have proven to be greedy and shortsighted. We have broken off discussions and will now speak with our swords…and with tak.”
Most of what he was saying didn’t matter to me. It was all just a lot of blah blah blah. The bottom line was what mattered. The Bedoowan had tak and they were using it to attack another tribe. After that…what? Would the Bedoowan and the Milago become the aggressive force that Uncle Press feared? What would that mean to the rest of Denduron? Was the territory going to be ruled by fear and aggression? Was this what Saint Dane wanted? Was the territory going to be laid waste like Veelox? Was this going to be the future of every territory? My head hurt worse now than when I had first been brought to the hospital.
“I’d like to see Alder,” I said.
Rellin scowled. “Alder has been imprisoned.”
I wanted to jump up and scream, “Why?” but forced myself to keep calm. I had already learned that lesson.
“You are not a Bedoowan,” Rellin explained. “The fact that you left to help another tribe was your choice. Alder did not have that choice, yet he deserted us. Still, that would not have been enough to imprison him.”
“Then why?”
“He tried to destroy our tak mine,” Rellin answered. “I do not know why. He would not answer me. I am sorry to say that Alder has been branded a traitor. For his actions he has been sentenced to death.”
My head swam. Things were happening fast, but they were all too clear. Alder must have returned to find exactly what I found, and tried to destroy the tak. He failed, and now he was going to be executed for doing his job as a Traveler. My job. I should have been here. This was my fault too. Halla was crashing down around me in every possible way.
“I am sorry, Pendragon,” Rellin said. “I know that Alder was your friend. I believed he was my friend as well. I suppose we do not always know everything about our friends.”
“When?” I gasped.
“Tomorrow morning. It is the last official duty I will attend to before leaving to lead the attack on the Lowsee. I would not expect you to be there. I understand how difficult this must be for you.” Rellin knelt down by me and took my arm. “Do not dwell on the negative. Did you know that I am now king?”
“Uhhh, no.”
“Kagan and I were married. Our union has brought the Milago and the Bedoowan together. We are now a single, mighty tribe that will soon rule all of Denduron. You are here at the start of a glorious new era. Revel in it. When the history of our world is written, you will hold a place of honor. When the battle is complete, we will talk again about what role you wish to play in our new tribe. You have earned that right, Pendragon.”
He smiled and left. I didn’t feel much like reveling. I didn’t feel very honorable. I didn’t want any part of his new tribe. I felt I had done everything wrong since the moment I left home as a Traveler. As I lay there on that cot, alone, in pain, I felt as if everything were lost. Denduron would only be the beginning. Stories like the one I’d just heard from Rellin would play out across Halla. I don’t believe it’s possible to feel any lower than I felt at that moment. All the sacrifices the Travelers had made were for nothing. Saint Dane had won. It would have been so easy for me to roll over and close my eyes. All I wanted was to go ba
ck to sleep and hopefully never wake up. There was only one thing that stopped me from doing it.
Alder.
He was still alive. I may have lost Denduron. I may have lost Halla. There was no way I would let my friend die. It had nothing to do with Saint Dane. It was about saving Alder. It was all I had left. Of course, that meant I actually had to stand up and move. Not an easy thing. I threw my legs over, sat up, and immediately puked. All over the floor. Nobody saw. Nobody cared. Least of all, me. I wasn’t going to let a little thing like uncontrollable nausea stop me. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, stood up, and puked again. I was a mess. I didn’t know if it was from my injuries or the blood loss or from whatever medicine they were giving me. I was a step above worthless. I struggled to put on the leather clothes I’d found at the flume. It took forever, since I was doing it with only one arm. My pounding head and weak stomach didn’t help. The pain that tore through my shoulder and chest made it nearly impossible to dress. But I didn’t give up. After a grueling twenty minutes, I was ready to stagger out of the hospital.
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