The Transall Saga

by Gary Paulsen

  "You are touched. Do you not realize that everyone in the area has been alerted to look for you? You would be spotted instantly if you tried to cross the river on the ferry. The Merkon has spies everywhere."

  "The Merkon?" Mark tried to think. So it was true. The Merkon had offered a reward for his capture. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Are you here to try to collect the bounty?"

  The young man gave a wry laugh. "If I was, I could easily have struck you on the head with my oar. Put away your sword, outlaw. I am no friend of the Merkon. It was one of his men who did this to me." He pointed at the burn on his cheek.

  Mark relaxed. "Do you know of another way across the river?"

  "Maybe. But first you must tell me why you wish to go into the demon’s lair. The reward for you holds whether you are dead or alive. What is so significant over there that you would risk your life for it?"

  "Answers. I am not an outlaw. The Merkon knows I’m not. He also has information about something that is very important to me. If he is still alive, I have to have it."

  "Oh, he is alive, all right. He just recently returned from a very long trip. And he wasted no time getting the word out about you." The young man rubbed his chin. "I have a raft. Your beast will have to swim but I know of a narrow place in the river. Come with me."

  Mark hesitated, then grabbed his mount’s reins. He wasn’t sure whether he could trust this man, but it looked as if he had no choice.

  The young man looked back. "What do they call you, outlaw?"

  "Some call me Kakon."

  "Interesting name. What does it mean?"

  "I am told it means ’the second warrior.’ "

  "Where are you from?"

  "A faraway place."

  "Closemouthed. I like that. A man can never be too careful. My name is Roan. I live across the river with a small group of murderers and thieves."

  Mark stopped. "Is that where we’re going?"

  "Yes. They are an unruly bunch. But once they find out who you are they will be pleased that you have joined us. Here is the raft. Give me a hand, will you?"

  Mark helped him push the raft into the water. "Why do you live with murderers and thieves? You don’t seem like the type. "

  "When the great Merkon puts a mark like this on your face, you are no longer welcome among the true people."

  "Why did he do that to you?"

  "I used to work for him in the stronghold. I tended the stables as a young boy and worked my way up to become a member of the elite guard. Life could not have been better for me until met Dansa."

  "Dansa?"

  "The Merkon’s daughter. We were going to run away together. But we were caught by her brother, Mordo. The Merkon branded me as a thief. He would have branded her too, but she denied everything and blamed me." Roan shrugged. "I guess it wasn’t true love after all. Now I am banished from Listra. So I hide with my companions in the forest and live by my wits. You are welcome to stay with us."

  "Thank you, Roan." Mark stepped onto the raft and pulled his beast to the edge of the water. "I just might take you up on that."

  Roan pushed off and began rowing. The beast followed and was soon covered with water except for its head. Roan let the current take them downstream a short distance and then started rowing again until they reached the other side.

  A wide man with a flat face, scraggly hair and thick bare feet jumped out of the bushes and caught the rope Roan threw to him. He pulled the raft to shore and helped them hide it in the brush.

  "This is Francle. At one time he was the Merkon’s chief advisor. That was before he advised something the Merkon did not want to hear and his tongue was cut out."

  Mark winced and nodded at the man. "Nice to meet you."

  Francle nodded back and reached for the reins of Mark’s beast.

  Mark jerked them away. "I’ll keep it with me, if you don’t mind."

  The man frowned and moved up the trail in front of them. Roan winked at Mark. "Wise decision. Francle has been known to borrow a mount from time to time. He sells them to an old trader across the river."

  "So you steal from each other too?"

  "Oh no. Only from strangers."

  "It’s nice to know you draw the line somewhere."

  Roan laughed and led the way up a narrow path through stands of tall red trees. "So you claim you are not really an outlaw. You must have done something. What was it? Did you hear or see something you were not supposed to? Perhaps you failed to carry out a mission you were entrusted with."

  "It was none of those things. At least I don’t think it was. I’m not really sure. To tell you the truth, I think it has something to do with the way I look."

  "Ha!" Roan slapped his leg. "That is very funny. The great Merkon wants to arrest you because of your looks." Roan stopped walking and turned to study Mark. "I admit you do look odd. You are very tall, your skin has a pasty look and your eyes are misshapen." He snapped his fingers. "I have it. You are related to the Merkon. I saw him once without his mask. He had those same strange eyes."

  This time it was Mark’s turn to laugh. "That’s not it either. I can’t explain right now, but believe me, there’s no way I would be related to the Merkon."

  "Too bad. It would have made a good story to tell at the fire tonight." Roan stepped through a hedge of brush. "We will not speak from this point on, Kakon. For the next mile or so, the forest is inhabited by the worst kind of beasts. Spies sent from the Merkon to locate our band. Walk only where I walk."

  Mark watched Roan slip a knife from his moccasin. He followed suit by reaching for his crossbow and loading one of his arrows.

  They had traveled a fair distance when they heard a loud snap and a strange whirring noise. Then came the sound of someone crashing through the brush in their direction.

  Mark wanted to hide but Roan stood his ground, poised and ready.

  Francle charged out of the brush, motioning excitedly for them to follow him.

  A sly grin crept over Roan’s face. "Come, Kakon," he whispered. "I think you will enjoy this."

  Francle led the way to a clearing and pointed above their heads. Hanging by one foot and trying desperately to free himself from the noose around his foot was one of the Merkon’s soldiers. His helmet and sword had fallen to the ground and the skirt of skins he wore had dropped over his head, exposing his bare backside.

  "Looks as if one of your traps has caught a varmint, Francle. A rather large one this time. Take care of it. And see if you can find his mount." Roan took a step and stopped. "And Francle, be sure the mount gets back to camp."

  "Come, Kakon. Our camp is not far now." Roan led the way through a dense thicket. On the other side he stopped and called out, "Ho, the camp. It is I, Roan, with a distinguished guest."

  A voice from the trees answered. "Proceed and welcome to Roan and his guest."

  Mark scanned the treetops but couldn’t find the owner of the voice. He followed Roan down a narrow ravine, which opened into a small clearing. There were no people, but a nearly smokeless fire burned in the center and a small animal was cooking on a wooden spit.

  Armor and swords were stacked up on one side, and a string of beasts was tied to a long rope. One by one, six men stepped out from behind trees and stood in front of them.

  "Is this who I think it is?" A man with a scar burned into his face like Roan’s looked Mark up and down.

  "It is, Jod." Roan held out his hand. "My friends, may I present the young outlaw, Kakon? I found him on the other side of the river, looking for the ferry."

  "The ferry?" A thin man with a shaved head moved close to Mark. "He is a bold rascal. What did he intend to do, take on the company of guards on the bank by himself?"

  "That I do not know. All he has told me is that he desires to see the great Merkon on a personal matter."

  Jod circled behind them. Mark’s hand felt for the release on his crossbow.

  Roan touched Mark’s shoulder.."Have no fear, my pale new friend." He glared at Jod. "
You know better. Kakon is my guest. I told him he would be welcome here. Bring him food and water. Perhaps before this day is over we will all find out how useful we can be to one another."

  chapter 47

  "The stronghold is on the other side of Listra. It has a high wall that completely encircles it. Inside there is a shelter room for the guards to sleep in and a stable that houses a hundred riding beasts. The main house is like nothing you have ever seen. It has a large hall with a plank floor and behind that more than ten rooms used solely by the Merkon and his family."

  Mark didn’t comment. He waited for Roan to finish.

  "The tribute is kept in one of the back rooms. I have never seen it but one time Dansa told me about it. She described it in detail so I know for certain it is there."

  "And you want me to help you break into the stronghold to get it."

  "Yes. We have eight good men. You make nine. If we attack at night we will have the element of surprise. And if while you are there you get a chance to handle your business with the Merkon, so much the better. What do you say?"

  "I say no."

  Jod pulled his sword. "He is a coward, Roan. Let me cut his heart out."

  "Let me finish." Mark stood and brushed the crumbs from his clothes. "By the way, thank you for the meal. I haven’t eaten in a long time. It is very much appreciated."

  Roan raised an eyebrow. "You were saying?"

  "Just that I think there is a better way. If the stronghold is guarded as heavily as you say, I don’t think you’re going to have an easy time sneaking over the wall."

  "Go on."

  "Suppose they opened the gate for you? Suppose you brought them something the Merkon wants? Not only would you be taken to the tribute room for payment, you would get in without a fight."

  "And that something would be ..."

  "Me."

  chapter 48

  It was dark. Mark rode in front of a column of eight armored men. His hands were loosely tied in front of him and he wore a long cloak of skins to cover his sword.

  "Open the gate," Roan shouted. "We have a prisoner for the Merkon."

  A small iron peephole scraped open. A deep voice called out, "Identify yourselves and the prisoner."

  Roan adjusted the helmet to make sure it covered his face. He had been a member of the guard long enough to know what to say. "I am Vagra with the desert company. The prisoner is the odd-looking outlaw the Merkon has been searching for. I am here for the reward."

  "Wait." The iron peephole slid shut.

  In a few minutes the heavy gate creaked open and the column rode inside.

  Mark glanced around. Most of the Merkon’s men were in the sleeping shelter. But the night guards were on duty and they were stationed every few feet all the way around the wall.

  A gate guard took Mark’s beast. "So you are the one we have been searching for. Get down. The Merkon wishes to see you immediately." He turned to Roan. "Follow me, Vagra. The Merkon will see that you are well rewarded."

  Roan got off his mount and stood between Mark and the guard. "This is my prisoner and will be the one to deliver him." He reached up and pulled Mark off his beast. Then he turned to his men. "Francle, take care of the animals. The rest of you dismount and give me a hand. This one is bad. Extremely violent and tricky. I do not want him escaping now that we are finally here."

  The guard’s eyes narrowed. He stiffened but turned, leading the way up the wooden steps into the main house.

  Mark was surprised to see how well furnished the great hall was. There were colorful rugs on the floor and benches with cushions. Large murals were painted on the walls and at one end sat a tall, ornately carved chair with a high wooden back.

  "So what do you think, Kakon?"

  Mark turned. The Merkon and two of his men had entered the room from a side door.

  "Of what? The chair, the room — or the way I was brought in here like a dog for crimes I never committed?"

  "Still not afraid of me, are you? We’ll change that in due time. I’m really glad they brought you in alive. I was hoping they would. I wanted to talk to you."

  "I’m listening."

  "Unfortunately, so are others." The Merkon waved his hand. "Guard, take these men and give them a fitting reward. See to it that no one comes in or out of this room until I call."

  The guard led Roan and his men out the side door and closed it behind them.

  The Merkon walked to the tall chair and sat down. "Now, let’s see. Where should I begin?"

  "Try telling me why you’re so interested in me. And what do you know about the light that brought me here?"

  The Merkon sat back. "You are a smart boy. I would have thought you’d have had it all figured out by now."

  "The only thing I have figured out is that somehow I am a threat to you and that you have gone to a whole lot of trouble to get me out of the way. You even ambushed your own men on the way to Trisad to get at me. Why?"

  The Merkon reached for the strange helmet covering his face and slowly took it off. Mark stared. The Merkon didn’t resemble the Tsook or anyone else Mark had run across in this world. Instead he looked more like ...

  "I knew you were smart." The Merkon put his helmet back on. "You’re right. I am not from Transall. I am from your time. At least close to it. What year was it when you came through the warp?"

  "You—You came here through the light? Then you know where it is and how to get back."

  "Now, why would I want to do that? I knew one day someone else was bound to find the warp. It was just a question of time. I was hoping that it would be far in the future, however, long after my kingdom had ended. When I heard about you I knew something had to be done."

  "What are you talking about?" Mark asked. "We can work together to get back."

  "But that’s just it. I don’t want to go back. I am the ruler of the universe here. These people are putty in my hands. Ignorant fools. These savages think I am the wisest, most powerful being that ever existed."

  Mark sat on one of the benches. "That’s another thing I don’t understand. How did all this happen? What caused these changes?"

  "From what I have been able to determine, there was a massive plague from a strain of virus much like the bola carried by African monkeys. It was very contagious and apparently an awfully painful way to die. If you contracted it, blood seeped out of every opening in your body until nothing was left. Scientists tried everything but they couldn’t find a cure. It swept over the world, killing at least seventy percent of the population. The infrastructure broke down, whole countries were virtually depopulated and for several generations the virus kept the population so low there could be no progress. Finally, when the virus at last died out, so much time had passed that everything useful had been forgotten; the human race had to start over. It must have been something to see."

  "The virus didn’t cause the changes in the people and plant life. What did that?"

  "That has been a little harder to piece together. The best I can tell, when major powers like the United States began to crumble, the nuclear weapons were taken over by terrorists who shot them off at will. Everything on Earth underwent a tremendous chemical change and over the next two thousand years only the strongest of any species survived."

  "What about the light?"

  "The light is a time warp, a freak of nature. I found it in the desert in the 1980s when I escaped from a prison detail in Arizona. It was unbelievable. I wanted out and, presto, I was so far out they could never find me."

  "Don’t you want to go back? What about your family and friends?"

  "Weren’t you listening? I told you I was in prison. I had no family. I had nothing. Here I have everything. And I don’t intend to let you take it away from me."

  "I don’t want to take anything. All want to do is find that light."

  "And what if you never find it? Soon you will start talking and teaching these people. I saw the armor you had made. What else have you taught them? Reading? How to build wea
pons? I can’t allow that. Soon they might rise up and use it all against me."

  "You’re a lunatic. I’m walking out of here."

  The Merkon unsheathed his sword. "I don’t think so."

  Mark threw his cape off and reached for his own sword. He had it out barely in time to parry a blow aimed at his head.

  "Someone has taught you well, boy. But not well enough." The Merkon came at him from the side.

  Mark leaped away but the tip of the blade ripped through his shirt. He whirled, bringing his sword around hard. The Merkon was ready. He jumped and swung again, pushing Mark backward onto one of the benches.

  "Now you are going to die and no one from either world will ever know what happened to you." The Merkon forced Mark flat on his back.

  "Before I kill you, Kakon, you should know that you never would have found the light. It strikes where it wants, randomly. There is no predictable pattern." He pushed his blade closer to Mark’s face, the sharp edge inches from his throat.

  Mark shoved him but the Merkon was too strong. Then Mark raised his knees and kicked. The Merkon lost his balance and Mark rolled off the bench.

  Mark scrambled to his feet and started swinging. He brought his sword up the way Sarbo had taught him and sliced the Merkon’s stomach. A red stain appeared on the man’s shirt. The Merkon stumbled and gasped for breath. Mark pressed in, hacking and probing, and with a wild sweep knocked the sword from the Merkon’s hand.

  "Now we will see who’s going to die." Mark raised his sword.

  A tremendous explosion shook the building. Roan and Jod burst through the side door, each carrying a bulging sack.

  Roan winked at him. "If you are almost done with your business, Kakon, I suggest we leave now. Francle used a little more of the powder than you told him to. Half the wall on the east side is gone and all their beasts have run off."

  Mark slowly lowered his sword. "I am finished. This ... man ... has nothing I want."

  "Surely you are not going to leave him alive?" Jod asked incredulously.