“Disappointed? That we were caught off guard last night?”
He slammed one fist into his other hand and growled. “If you want to understand, then stop asking questions and just listen.”
She clamped her mouth shut. His impatience was uncharacteristic.
“Where is the ring I gave you?” he said at last. “I had to unpack your things, and, well, I had hoped it would be there.”
He looked sadder than she had ever seen him before, and she couldn’t help laughing a bit with relief as she reached inside her pocket and untied the ring he’d given her.
She pulled it out and held it up, and was overcome by the love that washed over his countenance. If it were possible then, even at this moment, she would unite with him. But was she willing to pay the same price that Dantress had paid to join with Ilfedo? In her heart she yearned to feel free to do as Ombre wanted: to take the ring and be forever his. Yet she knew that forever could not be. If she were to bear a child, then she, like Dantress, would have to die. It seemed so unfair, and at times she’d tried to make sense of it, but she had always met an impenetrable barrier, a knowledge that she did not possess.
She put the ring back in her pocket and tried not to cry. “I—I can’t. Not yet.” She didn’t dare to look into his face as he put one arm around her and spoke softly in her ear.
“I will wait, forever if necessary. Even if it is only in the final years of my life, I will have you.” He stroked her neck, and she turned to look at him with a couple of tears running down her cheeks.
“I know,” she said, “and that is what scares me. I-I want to, but I don’t see how.”
“Well now,” he replied, smiling at her very brightly, “that is what I wanted to hear.”
He moved closer, and she knew that he wanted to kiss her, yet she could not allow it, though her heart ached to let him. She put her hand up to stop him, and he kissed it instead.
“Caritha, someday—when you no longer fear whatever it is that holds you back—I will look for the ring on your finger. And I promise that, even though a thousand miles should lie between us, I will come for you.” He gazed into her eyes. “Do you believe me?”
She did, and she let her eyes tell him so. If ever that day came, and she put on the ring, he would come. “Someday, Ombre, you will hold in your hand the proof of my feelings for you, and you will never doubt again.” She ran to catch up to Oganna before he could speak another word.
Tinged orange and red, the evening sky was beautiful to behold. Oganna had been wandering for hours now, crisscrossing the dry terrain and working her way slowly toward a chain of mountains in the west. Now, as she came to the end of the plain and ascended another green hill, her eyes scanned the territory ahead. The mountains flanked a long valley that looked greener than a new blade of grass under direct sunlight. She could almost feel the cool meadows beneath her feet. A thick forest lay between them and the hollows between the mountains—a tangled and thick forest.
“We’ll go through here.” She swept her hand to indicate the gap between the mountains. “Compared to the land we’ve passed through so far, this will be smooth after we get through that forest. Look at those mountain slopes—green as green can be! And what’s that white capping the peaks?”
“Snow, I believe.” Ombre walked a bit ahead of her and spoke deliberately. “What a lush terrain this is. Now, this place may in fact be habitable. It certainly appears expansive, but we shall see after some exploration.”
Yimshi was now setting behind them. She glanced over her shoulder as its disc formed the perfect backdrop to the green hills far behind them. The viper dropped off her arm and disappeared in the thick grass, then returned with a field mouse in its jaws.
That night they ventured to the outskirts of the forest leading up the mountains. They gathered dry wood, which was abundant, and heaped it beside their tent, which they pitched on a secluded hillside. They soon piled the wood and lit a fire to keep warm. In its light they chatted for an hour while they ate venison jerky, dried fruit, and wafer crackers they’d packed in their bags. They agreed upon keeping watch by shifts all night. Then Caritha and Ombre went to sleep in the tent while Oganna kept watch outside. Caritha tapped her on the shoulder around midnight and took her place.
Thunder greeted her in the morning. She stepped out of the tent and stretched beneath gray clouds moving in from the east. The darkest clouds took up residence over the mountains, and a violent wind whipped through their encampment. As they took down the tent, Oganna saw a flock of black birds take shelter in the forest before the mountain slopes.
“Let’s get moving before God blesses us with more rain than we can handle.” Ombre swung his pack onto his back. “This hillside is going to run with mud.”
Setting a brisk pace, he led them off the hillside and into the trees, where they waited out the downpour that followed. When the clouds broke and Yimshi shone again, they marched along the forest’s edge, seeking a path around it, for the foliage was impossibly dense. They climbed a nearby mountain slope and edged around the forest until they emerged behind it. From their new vantage point, they overlooked a vast stony region. The hollows between the mountains were little more than a broad pass that divided a chain of mountains that stretched to the northwest and to the south.
A stony desert valley, oppressively dry and hot, lay before them. “So much for having found the paradise I thought I saw from back on that hill,” Ombre said.
After they had trekked a few hours, the stony region was cut off by a forest of very large and very tall trees. Dropping their packs, they rested in the shade and drank sparingly from their water skins until an old man, his long gray hair braided back, interrupted them. He was gaunt and pale, yet his eyes were inquisitive and intelligent. He must have been very old, for his skin was wrinkled and stretched over his body so that it was a wonder he held together.
He seemed friendly enough, and when he asked what brought them to his forest they told him that they were on a mission of exploration. “Ah! The call of the unknown was too great for you to resist, eh? There was a time—long time ago, mind you—yet there was a time when I trod a similar path. Curiosity. It is both a curse and a gift. Its call is irresistible, and you don’t want to ignore it, and thus it curses you to servitude. But it also gives you eyes to see the endless possibilities of what lies beyond the next mountain. Ah! If I were a mite younger, I would pack my things and join you, for there is nothing I find more rewarding.
“Alas, I am too feeble and my days of exploration are over.” He sniffled and then blew his nose on a leaf. “Yes, too feeble to do any good. But maybe I have knowledge of places you wish to see. Maybe I can set you on the right path.”
“Thank you, we’d appreciate that.” Ombre chuckled as he waved at the hard terrain behind them. “We have never been this far west—”
“West? Ah! You are easterners? Fascinating. But you mustn’t think of this as west, for everything in this part of Subterran is considered in terms of its position in relation to the Palm of Heaven.”
Oganna took a step toward him. “The Palm of Heaven. Is it lush and uninhabited?”
“Why, yes. It is.”
“We might be looking for a place like that.” Oganna said, “Could you tell us how to reach that place?”
The old man brightened and stood straighter. “Aye! Indeed I will! Come now. Let me show you the path. I know these woods like the clothes on my back.”
Dense forest growth invaded every turn of the narrow path on which the old man led them. Their progress was slow, for they had to maintain his feeble pace. But they didn’t mind. Oganna found the forest fascinating. It felt empty to her, and dark, like a thousand mysteries hidden away that did not wish to be solved.
“Here we are,” the old man said, interrupting her musings.
She gazed at an ancient tree blocking the path; its tangled roots stuck out of the ground, and the bark on its broad trunk had a smattering of red. This can’t be it—the Palm
of Heaven. I thought it was a place, not a tree!
“I know it doesn’t look like much,” the old man was saying, “but this is a sort of gateway to that land I told you about. Discovered it ages ago, and it has served me well ever since. Now, all of you step over here—that’s right—amid the tree’s roots.”
They did as he asked, naively, for the tree suddenly burst into action. Its roots wrapped around them and then dragged them underground. Oganna caught sight of the old man bent over, howling with laughter. “Fools! Marvelous fools!” He patted one of the tree’s roots. “They are all yours, my old friend. Fill up! It may be a while before I can get you more.” The tree’s roots caressed his face and then waved to him as he sprinted, no longer feeble, back the way he’d come.
Oganna tried to reach for Avenger, but the tree’s roots held her arms fast and kept her immobile. She could hear Ombre raging against his captor, and, from the sounds of a muffled voice, Caritha was trying to free her mouth.
She realized then that the viper was no longer around her neck, nor on her arm. Had it escaped and left her? No, it would never.
The tree roots shifted dirt over her, filling the small hole that still let in light from the surface. It was pulling her deeper underground. Its roots tightened around her chest.
Somewhere in the forest above the old man screamed, and though she struggled to understand his words, it sounded like, “Snake! Snake! Get it off my arm! Get it off my leg! Get it off, get it off!”
The old man’s cries ceased, and Neneila’s smiling head peered down the hole at Oganna. A tree root wrapped around the creature, but it slid out with ease, making its way to her and slicking out its tongue. “Psst! Mistress, the old man can no longer ensnare you. He is either very sssick, or dead.”
“Neneila, I cannot free myself from this tree.”
“Then I will poison it too. Sssee?” The viper dug its fangs into the roots, but nothing happened. Again it tried, on another root, but to no effect. “Mistress, I have failed.”
Oganna closed her eyes, remembering her duel with Caritha. That was before the battle of Burloi, before even her encounter with the Megatraths. Surely now she could do more, maybe even bring a living tree such as this under her subjection.
Her mind probed the tree and, finding the spark of its life, squeezed. The spark flared, bright as a star. She could sense its startled recognition. Its consciousness had been touched by her, and its soul, if it had one, lay exposed and at her mercy.
The roots loosened their hold, then churned the soil and pushed her up. Her head pushed through the leafy forest floor. Beside her rose Caritha and then Ombre. The roots unwound from their bodies and withdrew into the ground.
“Come on. Let us get out of this place.” Oganna ran around the tree, scooping up the viper as she did so. Westward once more, to discover what lay beyond the forest.
24
WHERE THE STRONGEST RULE
Standing and looking down into the desert arena from atop the stones at the arena’s edge, Ilfedo watched the Megatraths duel and wondered what it would have been like to watch Oganna and the five sisters engage in combat with Loos and his companions. Four of these creatures against six humans—it must have been a terrible sight.
His daughter and the Warrioresses had triumphed that day. He didn’t understand how. According to Oganna, the sisters had appeared to be near death when she’d come to rescue them. But somehow, when she had fallen, they came fresh to the battle, and together victory was obtained.
They should have died—but they didn’t. Why? It was a question to which he had no answer. The sisters had hinted that something had happened when they had fallen, but they had refrained from saying what.
Isor—the sister of the wicked Megatrath known to him as Loos—rushed against her opponent, crashing him to the sand. Yellow vapors smoldered between her alligator jaws. Grimy saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth, mixing with froth, and her claws zinged as she extended them from her hands and dug them into the other’s side.
Along the arena’s edge a group of young Megatraths cheered. He noticed that most of these meglings’ hides appeared softer and their colors, rather than dull gray, ranged from cream to white. But nowhere did he see a black Megatrath like Arvidane. He mentally noted that the Megatrath coloring was a topic to discuss later with Vectra.
A shriek of pain, a final defensive strike, and Isor’s competitor rolled away from her and reluctantly surrendered. Blood stained the desert floor in big round blotches as the creature retreated into the tunnel. The audience growled and roared together, satisfied with the demonstration. Isor moved off to the sidelines, where another Megatrath cleaned her wounds and poured buckets of water over her hide to cool her.
“Well,” Ilfedo remarked as the Megatraths began to return underground, “that was quite a demonstration.”
Vectra leaped from the stands and raised one eye at him. “My turn is next—then you will see how a true warrior acquits herself.”
The rough edges of her mouth curved into a smile, and he smiled back knowingly. “A true warrior. What Oganna told me is true: the strongest among you rules?”
She walked off, stretching her neck and extending her claws. Yimshi, no longer directly overhead but falling to the west, framed her long shadow with golden light. “Yes, Ilfedo, the strongest rules.”
The Megatraths had not stayed away for long. Ilfedo looked around at the monstrous stones now filled with the expectant creatures. Either these creatures were addicted to violence, or there was a purpose to these fights that he failed to grasp.
Vectra barreled into Isor to throw her off balance and then stood. She spun and, with undeniable force, struck with her tail. Isor stumbled but did not fall. She lunged for Vectra’s neck, grappling with her claws. Vectra reared on her four hind legs, snaring the undersides of Isor’s hands on her claws.
Twisting to the right, Vectra threw Isor to the ground. At the same time, she pushed with her rear legs, throwing herself on top of her. Her mouth opened wide and flames issued forth, point-blank.
When the flames stopped, Ilfedo leaned forward. Surely Isor couldn’t last any longer.
He was right. Vectra’s fists hammered into the creature’s chest, and her screaming battle cry caused the crowd to hunker down in fear. Clouds of sand rose, hiding the duelists from view. Only an occasional poisonous vapor escaped.
Emerging from the dust, Vectra shook herself and growled victory. The dust settled, and several Megatraths made their way past her and dragged Isor’s unconscious form into the tunnel. She accepted a washing from her subordinates and returned to lie beside Ilfedo—with not a scratch on her, so far as he could tell.
“If I may be so bold,” he whispered by way of congratulating her. “If that is the strongest challenger to your supremacy, then you have nothing to fear.”
She started to smile and rumbled in her chest. “The ways of a Megatrath are strange to you, Lord Ilfedo, but I would like you to understand. I remain in charge of my people only so long as another cannot defeat me in combat. Isor was weary, having already battled today. Yet she is strong. I will someday pit myself against her when she is fresh, but only when I know that she is truly capable of defeating me in fair combat. For now all Isor may do is test me and hone her fighting technique.”
“I understand,” Ilfedo said. “You will only permit her to truly challenge you when you feel she presents a genuine threat to your leadership.”
Vectra nodded, then shook her head. “You understand part of it.” She might have continued, but a voice interrupted, cool and confident.
“So, this is the great Vectra,” it rumbled. The Megatraths in the stands gasped, and Vectra stiffened. A Megatrath lumbered from the assemblage’s midst. Ilfedo had not noticed him before. His hide was black, and his eyes were silver. A horn spiked out from his snout, and his build was wider than Vectra’s. Ilfedo could hardly believe his eyes. Here was a black Megatrath. Only once before had he seen a Megatrath of that color
, and that creature was in Dresdyn. That could easily be his pass to discovering the fastest way to return for the people of Dresdyn.
The black one had evil intent in its eye. Or was that the glimmer of ambition? Ilfedo knew not which. The creature lumbered toward Vectra’s stone. It would challenge her when she had already exerted much of her energy. Isor had not hurt her, but Vectra’s breathing was far from easy, and she smelled of sweat.
The black one approached them. Ilfedo eyed the creature, noting its powerful build. It was taller than Vectra, too, by at least a few feet.
“Who are you?” Vectra stood and eyed the other. “You are unfamiliar to me.”
The creature chuckled. “No, we have never met. But I know you.” He raked his thick black claws through the sand. “I have watched you wage war against your neighboring Megatrath nations. You would have them bow the knee to you, to recreate Resgeria the way it once was. But you would have the land for your own, all Megatraths your servants.”
“It is the way of our people,” she spat.
“Conveniently, yes. Which is why I have come—to lay claim to Resgeria.”
Vectra’s muscles bristled as she stepped down a level so as to be closer to him. “You fool! You wait for me to duel first and then demand this?”
“Yes.”
“Coward!”
The Megatrath’s silver eyes glistened. “Prudent planning.” He waited for her anger to build, then he stepped back and bowed. “Shall we duel?”
“No.” Ilfedo stepped past Vectra, his eyes fastened on the silver ones. This creature had cunning. He could see that all too clearly. He was breaking down Vectra’s mental walls before taking her on physically. If she accepted the challenge, which she must to retain her honor, then—no, he would not let it happen.
“Ah!” the black creature said. “A brave though weak individual. I have dealt in numerous ways with your kind before.”
Key of Living Fire (The Sword of the Dragon) Page 30