Mission To Mahjundar (A Sectors SF Romance)

by Veronica Scott

  “But doable?” Mike asked.

  Johnny nodded. “How much time do we have till Bandarlok raises the alarm?”

  “He won’t be raising any alarms. I killed him,” Mike answered. “Shalira says he ordered the guards and his servants to leave the two of them alone till dawn, so it’s a pretty safe bet we have a few hours. You’ll have to go along with us,” he said to the princess by his side.

  “I don’t want to slow you down or cause any problems. You must save Saium.”

  “She can wait with the horses while we go in and extract him,” Johnny said. “We can ride to within one klick of where they’ve got him, but then we’ll have to go in on foot.”

  It was a short distance from the camp to where Saium was being held. There wasn't anything resembling a trail, but Johnny found his way unerringly. Leaving the horses safely tethered in a grove, he led Mike and Shalira to the top of one last ridge overlooking a small tent set in a grove of trees. A fire was burning inside, flickering light visible through the open flap at the front.

  As he drew his knife, Mike said, “Shalira, I want you to stay here, hidden among these trees. When the coast is clear, either Johnny or I will come fetch you.”

  “Wait, I need a weapon,” she said, holding Mike by the elbow.

  He exchanged puzzled glances with Johnny. “What for?” Guiding her to the closest sizable tree, he cleared some debris to make a spot for her to wait in a bank of fallen leaves.

  “I won’t be taken alive.” She wrapped up in the fur as she sank to the ground, back against the huge tree trunk. “I know you think we’re safe from pursuit for now, and I’ve every confidence in both of you but I’d feel better—more in control—having a weapon. And there’s no time to teach me to shoot one of your blasters, even if I could see to aim it.”

  “No problem. Johnny, get the lady a combat knife, would you?” A moment later he gave her the blade his cousin took from a saddlebag. “Here’s the signal for one of us coming to get you.” Pursing his lips, Mike whistled a bird call from his home planet.

  “Be careful.” She clung to his hand for a moment.

  “This is what we do for a living,” Mike said, brushing a kiss on her palm as he gently disengaged from her grasp. “Knives only, Johnny. The sound of shots would carry back to the main camp in this still air, and then we'd have bigger problems.” He didn't wait for Johnny’s acknowledgment before descending the ridge to the tent, making use of all available cover. He and Johnny moved so quietly the guards in the tent had no warning of what was coming.

  The clansmen's attention was on an unconscious Saium, strung up by the wrists on a framework of poles, his feet dragging on the hard- packed dirt floor. The guards had evidently been torturing him. A pattern of ugly, fresh burn marks trailed along his rib cage on the right side. Saium's head lolled to the side, a gag stuffed into his mouth to stifle any screams. Laughing and debating what to do to their victim next, the men were ready to revive him with a bucket of cold water.

  Mike tackled the enemy on the left, Johnny taking the man to the right, achieving complete surprise. Both thugs fell dead in less than a minute. Johnny was already busy sawing at the rawhide thongs holding Saium to the poles, saying over his shoulder, “I took note of horses out back when I did my recon. Mounts for Shalira and Saium.”

  As if brought back to consciousness by the sound of his name, Saium groaned as they removed the gag and lowered him to the floor. Opening his eyes, he blinked slowly. “Major?”

  Mike put a firm hand on the guardsman’s shoulder. “Don't try to talk. You’ll need your strength to sit on a horse. We're getting out of here in a minute.”

  The old warrior tried to sit up. “I owe you my life.” He grabbed at Mike’s arm. “You have to rescue the princess. Bandarlok’s plans for her—”

  Patting him reassuringly on the shoulder, Mike said, “I’ve already got her out of that snake pit. She’s waiting for us on the ridge. Bandarlok’s dead—there wasn’t any choice if I was going to rescue Shalira.”

  “I only wish I could have done it,” Saium agreed. “There’s much evil he has to answer for in the afterlife. It would have been a pleasure to send him there.”

  Mike didn’t disagree, but the point was moot. “Johnny, he needs a temporary patch job on these burns. Can you give him a shot of something so he can ride?”

  “No problem.” The always-prepared sergeant pulled a small medkit from one of the many pockets in his utilities. He pushed past Mike. “Give me some room.”

  “My entire clan has been slaughtered by Bandarlok and his people. I can’t believe it, yet I must. The Bartuk Clan must pay for this treachery.” Saium's voice shook with rage and suppressed grief. “And I’m just the Windhunter to take the blood price for my people.”

  “The best revenge is to go on living.” Mike’s voice was low and persuasive. “I’m going for Shalira, so she’ll know we succeeded. She’s probably worrying herself sick up there in the dark.”

  “She’s used to the dark,” Saium said.

  “Not like this, she’s not. She had a pretty rough time with Bandarlok before I got there.”

  As Mike climbed the ridge, whistling the little bird call periodically, he remembered when he’d gone to fetch Shalira after the battle in the Valley of Tombs. Things between us are going to have a more favorable outcome this time.

  “Sweetheart?” he said in a low voice as he reached the tree line.

  She stood up, back to the rough tree trunk, clutching the blanket in one hand and the big combat knife in the other. “Did you save Saium?”

  “He’s alive, pretty banged up.” Mike reached her side. “Let me escort you to him. Johnny’s pumping him full of drugs so he can ride.”

  He guided her down the hill, picking the easiest path for her.

  Saium lay on the floor of the tent, eyes closed, jaw clenched as Johnny treated his wounds, but as soon as Mike brought Shalira in, the old man struggled to sit up. Tears in his eyes, he reached for her. Catching her hand, he said, “Can you ever forgive me for delivering you to that monster?”

  She dropped to her knees, hugging him so tightly her knuckles went white in the firelight. “There’s nothing to forgive. We both were doing our duty.”

  “And we’ve paid dearly for it,” Saium said.

  “I hate to interrupt the reunion, I know it’s been a rough time for you both, but we’d better get going. If you’ll allow me to finish sealing his burns, Your Highness, I’d appreciate it. Move a few steps to the left, please?” Johnny said.

  “She might need some painkiller too, while you’re at it,” Mike said. “She got pretty badly manhandled back there at the camp.”

  Johnny nodded at the suggestion. “Sure, I got things that can dull the ache without putting you to sleep.”

  “I’d be forever grateful.”

  I’ll go get the horses, bring them up so we can get the hell out of here.” Mike squeezed Shalira’s shoulder and ducked under the tent flaps.

  A few minutes later, ready to make a getaway from the vicinity of the clans, Mike boosted Shalira into the saddle. “Let's ride before our luck runs out. We've got to get as far as we can under cover of darkness, while the camp sleeps.”

  “If we reach the banks of the Suaga River, I promise we'll go free,” Saium assured them as they kicked their horses forward at a gallop. “This old Windhunter has some clan secrets those vermin can’t dream of.”

  Mike kept the reins of Shalira's horse tightly wrapped around his right hand as they rode.

  In the lead, he set a rapid pace, riding as fast as his horse could weave a safe trail through the forest. He kept them at this speed for a good three hours past dawn, stopping only for short breaks to rest the winded animals. As Saium had suggested, Mike was setting a course toward the Suaga River, which marked the official boundary between the foothills and the lower slopes of the Djeelaba Mountains proper.

  During one of the breaks, Saium cocked his head, staring the way they’d come. “H
unting horns!” He swiveled in the saddle to stare at Mike.

  Mike heard the horns sounding again. “Probably a couple of miles back. Sound carries a long way in the thinner air at this altitude. A race then, one we have to win. Shalira, are you ready?”

  She was sitting straight in her saddle, chin up, composed. “Don't worry about me. I can hang on no matter how fast we go. This is a good little horse.”

  Mike shifted in his saddle, looking for Saium. “How much farther to the river?”

  “Several hours of hard riding, at least.” Saium frowned. “The trail gets easier in a few more miles, but it will be easier for those who follow, too.”

  The rest of the day was a blur forever after to Mike. He kept them galloping as much as possible to establish a greater margin of safety between them and those who hunted them, but always the horns would sound again.

  Johnny rode rear guard. It took a shorter and shorter amount of time for him to double back to observe the pursuit and then rejoin the group.

  Finally, in the late afternoon, Mike heard a roaring sound ahead.

  “The Suaga!” Saium shouted, pointing ahead. “We must be close to the great falls, where the river drains into the low-lands. Not long now.”

  “Getting tight, Mike,” Johnny warned. “They're going to be on us about the time we reach this river.”

  “Stop talking and ride, then.” Mike touched his horse with his spurs.

  Another short burst from the tiring animal and he came out on the banks of one of the most intimidating rivers he’d ever seen, on any planet. Wide, fast with wicked rapids, there was obviously a huge waterfall not too far from them. Means a powerful current. Our horses are too tired to swim across. Mike pointed at the roiling waters, frowning at Saium. “You expect us to cross this?”

  In the forest behind them the hunting horns blared again, much closer.

  Saium was undaunted. “Trust me, there’s a way across. One summer when I was a boy, drought left the river lower than any other time in memory, and I found a safe place to ford, even at full flood level.”

  Mike shaded his eyes with one hand and studied the desolate landscape awaiting them on the other side and the thickly forested foothills rising beyond. “We've got to get across this monster of a river now or the Bartuk Clan warriors are going to get their revenge for Bandarlok’s death.”

  “Too close to the falls here,” Johnny said, pointing at a tree trunk drifting past them at a rapid pace, “There’s a strong current through this pass.”

  “Here would be suicide,” Saium agreed. “We must find my boyhood landmarks. The way is more to the west.”

  Mike lifted the reins, urging the black stallion to proceed along the riverbank. “Lead on, then. We can't waste any more time or they'll be on top of us.”

  Following his lead, the others turned their horses, the tired animals picking their way carefully on the muddy surface.

  Maybe half a mile farther on, Saium raised his hand for the group to halt. “We make the crossing here.”

  The first of their pursuers burst onto the riverbank back to the east, near the falls. Shouts and more horns broadcast their arrival and excitement at catching sight of their quarry.

  Pointing to the opposite river-bank, Saium spared no attention for the rapidly oncoming warriors. “I recognize the rock formation directly across from us, the one shaped like a sleeping bartuk.”

  “This is a nightmare,” Johnny shouted over the roar of the water. “We're never going to make it across.”

  “No choices left,” Mike said simply. Pulling her horse closer, he leaned in to address Shalira, who had a death grip on her saddle and was pale and silent. “Hang on tight, no matter what happens. We're going to try fording the river now.”

  “I trust you, and I trust this horse.” Her face calm, Shalira patted the little mare on the neck and sat straight in the saddle.

  Saium forced his horse down the bank and into the narrow band of quiet water at the river's edge. Mike came directly behind him, tugging on the reins to ensure Shalira’s mare followed. Johnny led the pack horse. Saium's mount lost its footing in the water and swam, fighting against the current. Suddenly the horse scrambled, finding something solid under the swirling water. Saium let the animal stand for a moment, man and horse gathering confidence before walking in madly swirling water up to the horse's knees, heading for the opposite bank. “The safe path is narrow,” he yelled. “Follow my lead exactly.”

  Buzzing like an angry bee, a bullet whizzed past Mike’s ear as he forced his reluctant horse deeper into the water, pulling Shalira's mare behind him. The horses started swimming for the point where Saium had found the narrow ridge that was his ford. Pausing to let loose a few rounds of sizzling blaster fire to set the trees ablaze, Johnny brought up the rear.

  About the time Mike thought he’d have to allow the horse to attempt swimming across the river, the animal found the first rock under its hooves. Staring into the foamy, cold, greenish water, Mike could barely make out the black shadows of the stepping stones.

  More shots rang out from the Bartuk Clan warriors on the bank. Risking a backward glance, Mike observed a large party of men milling at the water's edge, arguing amongst themselves. Some plainly wanted to abandon the chase, while others were gesticulating and pointing at the river, where their quarry was rapidly drawing farther away to the safety of the other bank.

  Firing short bursts at the enemy from time to time, Johnny was bringing up the rear, shooting when he could spare attention from trying to navigate the hidden path. His aim was badly off under the stress of the river crossing, but accurate enough to cause the Bartuks to dodge into the cover of the trees.

  Mike was on the other shore now, with Saium and Shalira, watching the last part of the drama play itself out. The faction among their pursuers who argued for following them into the river prevailed. Eight men urged their horses into the swirling water, swimming toward the point where they seemed to think better footing existed. Johnny shot one man, who toppled into the river with a startled yell and was swept away. The riderless horse clambered to safety on the opposite bank, but the other warriors kept coming.

  As Shalira covered her ears and hunched low in her saddle, Mike and Saium unholstered their weapons and sent a barrage of covering bullet-and-blaster fire arcing over the river as Johnny and the pack horse finished crossing.

  Mike took careful aim on the first warrior who reached the narrow band of shallower water. As soon as the man’s horse found the welcome footing, Mike shot the rider, winging him. The Bartuk clansman fell partway from the saddle, but managed to grab his horse's mane, avoiding the water. As the next person in line tried to help him, their mounts got tangled up together on the rock. The third horse in the column made a plunging rush onto the stepping stone. In the blink of an eye, all three horses and riders had been swept away into the current. Misjudging where the stone was, the next man went rolling and bobbing downriver toward the roaring falls. The fifth man shouted and tried to redirect his horse toward shore. Confused and frightened, the animal collided with the horse swimming behind it and both were carried away.

  By now, the remaining Bartuk Clan members had apparently decided they were in a no-win situation and retreated to safety. Clustered on the far bank, the enemy leaned around the trees sheltering them, waved their fists and cursed, firing wild shots at random.

  Laughing, Mike snapped off a sardonic salute in the direction of their pursuers as he wheeled the black stallion to leave the riverbank. “Saium, my apologies for ever doubting you.”

  Well satisfied at having saved the situation, the old guardsman nodded, although visibly less jubilant over their escape than Mike was. “Not only are they afraid of your weapons and the river, they fear the natives who dwell on this side of the water. Venturing to this shore can lead to certain death. We’ll have to keep a sharp watch.”

  “So how did you survive, coming into this territory when you were a boy?” Johnny asked as he checked his blaster
charge and holstered the weapon.

  “I was cautious and I didn’t draw attention to myself.” Saium nodded in self-satisfaction. “I remember my scout craft, never fear. We’ll find your crashed ship and escape from these mountains unscathed, just as I did when I went treasure hunting many a time as a boy.”

  “Treasure hunting?” Shalira tilted her head in his direction as the group moved away from the river shore.

  “The emperor’s ancestors made many attempts to conquer the tribes who live here,” Saium said. “Always they were driven back, sometimes slaughtered on the road as they fled. Finally the emperor himself—one of your ancestors—disappeared on a campaign into the Djeelaba. Legend has it he threw the Cherindor Scepter into the river with his dying breath, so the enemy couldn’t possess its great powers. His heirs declared the crusades were over, honor and the gods satisfied. No more need to explore the area.”

  “And now here we are, hundreds of years later,” Shalira said. “Traveling into the mountains again. I remember the stories.”

  Mike exchanged glances with Johnny as they rode. Doesn’t sound to me like her people actually won. I wonder if the tribes who did still roam here.

  Mike didn’t waste time gloating over the escape, but led his party away from the river, deeper into the mountains. Not wanting to camp in the open, he was determined to reach the shelter Saium had promised before night fell. Sure enough, in another hour of riding, as the first spatters of what promised to be a hard rain began to fall, Saium led them to the huge cave he remembered using as his base camp many years ago. Mike and Johnny stabled the horses in a large room off to the side of the entrance, harvesting what fodder was available in the immediate area of the cave. Saium arranged accommodations in the other chambers and started a cooking fire and dinner, after which he joined Mike and Johnny as they stared out the mouth of the cave at the leaden sheets of rain.