She was afraid the woman might find the knife.
The chief called the entire tribe in and explained who their captives, ex-captives, really were. There were a lot of oh’s and ah’s, or the Wendow equivalents, and then the women who’d beaten her fell on their knees and begged forgiveness. Anana magnanimously blessed them.
Urthona’s and McKay’s bonds were cut. Anana told them how she had gained their freedom. However, as it turned out, they were not as free as they wished. Though the chief gave each a moosoid, he delegated men to be their bodyguards. Anana suspected that the shaman was responsible for this.
“We can try to escape any time there’s an opportunity,” she told her uncle. “But we’ll be safer if we’re with them while we’re looking for your palace. Once we find it, if we find it, we can outwit them. However, I hope the search doesn’t take too long. They might wonder why the emissaries of the Lord are having such a hard time locating it.”
She smiled. “Oh, yes. You’re my subordinates, so please act as if you are. I don’t think that shaman is fully convinced about my story.”
Urthona looked outraged. McKay said, “It looks like a good deal to me, Miss Anana. No more beatings, we can ride instead of walking, eat plenty, and three women already said they’d like to have babies by me. One thing about them, they ain’t got no color prejudice. That’s about all I can say for them, though.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Another day and night passed. The thunder and lightning showed no signs of diminishing. Anana, watching the inferno from the pass, could not imagine how anything, plants or animals, escaped the fury. The chief told her that only about one sixteenth of the trees were laid low and new trees grew very quickly. Many small beasts, hiding now in burrows and caves, would emerge when the storms were over.
By then the plains were thick with life and the mountains were zebra-striped with lines of just-arriving migrators. The predators, the baboons, wild dogs, moas, and big cats, were killing as they pleased. But the plain was getting so crowded that there was no room to stampede away from the hunters. Sometimes, the frightened antelopes and elephants ran toward the killers and trampled them.
The valley was a babel of animal and bird cries, screams, trumpetings, buglings, croakings, bellowings, mooings, roarings.
At this place the waterway banks were about ten feet above the surface. The ground sloped upwards from this point towards the sea-land pass where the banks reached their maximum height above the surface of the water, almost a hundred feet. The chief gave orders to abandon the moosoids and swim across the channel if a stampede headed their way. The children and women jumped into the water and swam to the opposite bank and struggled up its slope. The men stayed behind to control the nervous grewigg. These were bellowing, rolling their eyes, drawing their lips back to show their big teeth, and dancing around. The riders were busy trying to quiet them, but it was evident that if the storm didn’t stop very soon, the plains animals would bolt and with them the moosoids. As it was, the riders were not far behind the beasts in nervousness. Though they knew that the lightning wouldn’t reach out between the mountains and strike them, the “fact” that the Lord was working overtime in his rage made them uneasy.
Anana had crossed the channel with the women and children. She hadn’t liked leaving her gregg behind. But it was better to be here if a stampede did occur. The only animals on this side were those able to get up the steep banks: baboons, goats, small antelopes, foxes. There were a million birds on this side, however, and more were flying in. The squawking and screaming made it difficult to hear anyone more than five feet away even if you shouted.
Urthona and McKay were on their beasts, since it was expected that all men would handle them. Urthona looked worried. Not because of the imminent danger but because she had the Horn. He fully expected her to run away then. There was no one who could stop her on this side of the channel. It would be impossible for anyone on the other side to run parallel along the channel with the hope of eventually cutting her off. He, or they, could never get through the herds jammed all the way from the channel to the base of the mountains.
Something was going to break at any minute. Anything could start an avalanche on a hundred thousand hooves. She decided that she’d better do something about the tribe. It wasn’t that she was concerned about the men. They could be trampled into bloody rags for all she cared. Nor, only two years ago, would she have been concerned about the women and children. But now she would feel—in some irrational obscure way—that she was responsible for them. And she surely did not want to be burdened with them.
She swam back across the channel, the Horn stuck in her belt, and climbed onto the bank. Talking loudly in the chief’s ear, she told him what had to be done. She did not request it, she demanded it as if she were indeed the representative of the Lord. If Trenn resented her taking over, he was discreet enough not to show it. He bellowed orders, and the men got down from the grewigg. While some restrained the beasts, the others slid down the bank and swam to the other side. Anana went with them and told the women what they should do.
She helped them by digging away at the edge of the bank with her knife. The chief apparently was too dignified to do manual labor even in an emergency. He loaned his axe to his wife, telling her to set to with it.
The others used their flint and chert tools or the ends of their sticks. It wasn’t easy, since the grass was tough and their roots were intertwined deep under the surface. But the blades and the greasy earth finally did give away. Within half an hour a trench, forty-five degrees to the horizontal, had been cut into the bank.
Then the men and Anana swam back, and the moosoids were forced over the bank and into the water. The men swam with them, urging them to make for the trench. The grewigg were intelligent enough to understand what the trench was for. They entered it, one by one, and clambered, sometimes slipping, up the trench. The women at the top grabbed the reins and helped pull each beast on up, while the men shoved from behind.
Fortunately, there was very little current in the channel. The grewigg were not carried away past the trench.
Before all, including the moosoids, had quit panting, the stampede started. There was no way to know how it started. Of a sudden the thunder of countless hooves reached them, mixed with the same noises they had heard but louder now. It wasn’t a monolithic movement in one direction. About half of the beasts headed toward the pass. The other part raced toward the mountains outside those that ringed the sealand. These had resumed their cone shape of two days ago.
First through the pass was a herd of at least a hundred elephants. Trumpeting, shoulder to shoulder, those behind jamming their trunks against the rears of those ahead, they sped by. Several on the edge of the channel were forced into the water, and these began swimming toward the pass.
Behind the pachyderms came a mass of antelopes with brownish-red bodies, black legs, red necks and heads, and long black horns. The largest were about the size of a racing horse. Their numbers greatly exceeded those of the elephants; they must have been at least a thousand. The front ranks got through and then a beast slipped, those behind fell over or on him, and within a minute at least a hundred were piled up. Many were knocked over into the channel.
Anana expected the rear ranks to turn and charge off along the base of the right-hand mountain. But they kept coming, falling, and others piled up on them. The pass on that side of the channel was blocked, but the frantic beasts leaped upon the fallen and attempted to get over their struggling, kicking, horn-tossing, bleating fellows. Then they too tripped and went down and those behind them climbed over them and fell. And they too were covered.
The water was thick with crazed antelopes which swam until bodies fell on them and then others on them and others on them.
Anana yelled at the chief. He couldn’t hear her because of the terrifying bedlam, so loud it smothered the bellow of thunder and explosion of lightning beyond the pass. She ran to him and put her mouth to his ear.
“The channel’s going to be filled in a minute with bodies! Then the beasts’ll leap over the bodies and be here! And we’ll be caught!”
Trenn nodded and turned and began bellowing and waving his arms. His people couldn’t hear him, but they understood his gestures. All the moosoids were mounted, and the travois were hastily attached to the harness and the skins and goods piled on them. This wasn’t easy to do, since the grewigg were almost uncontrollable. They reared up, and they kicked out at the people trying to hold them, and some bit any hands or faces that came close.
By then the spill into the channel was taking place as far as they could see. There were thousands of animals, not only antelopes now, but elephants, baboons, dogs, and big cats, pressed despite their struggles into the water. Anana caught a glimpse of a big bull elephant tumbling headfirst off the bank, a lion on its back, its claws digging into the skin.
Now added to the roaring and screaming was the flapping of millions of wings as the birds rose into the air. Among these were the biggest winged birds she’d seen so far, a condor-like creature with an estimated wingspan of twelve feet.
Many of the birds were heading for the mountains. But at least half were scavengers, and these settled down on the top of the piles in the water or in the pass. They began tearing away at the bodies, dead or alive, or attempted to defend their rights or displace others.
Anana had never seen such a scene and hoped she never would again. It was possible that she wouldn’t. The sudden lifting of the birds had snapped the moosoids’ nerves. They started off, some running toward the birds, some toward the mountains, some toward the pass. Men and women hung onto the reins until they were lifted up, then lowered, their bare feet scraping on the ground until they had to let go. Those mounted pulled back on the reins with all their might but to no avail. Skins and goods bounced off the travois, which then bounced up and down behind the frenzied beasts.
Anana watched Urthona, yelling, his face red, hauling back on the reins, being carried off toward the pass. McKay had let loose of his moosoid as soon as it bolted. He stood there, watching her. Evidently he was waiting to see what she would do. She decided to run for the mountains. She looked back once and saw the black man following her. Either he had orders from her uncle not to let her out of his sight or he trusted her to do the best thing to avoid danger and was following her example.
Possibly, he was going to try to get the Horn from her. He couldn’t do that without killing her. He was bigger and stronger than she, but she had her knife. He knew how skilled she was with a knife, not to mention her mastership of the martial arts.
Besides, if he attempted murder in sight of the tribe, he’d be discrediting her story that they were sent by the Lord. He surely wouldn’t be that stupid.
The nearest mountain on this side of the channel was only a mile away. It was one of the rare shapes, a monolith, four-sided, about two thousand feet high. The ground around it had sunk to three hundred feet, forming a ditch about six hundred and fifty feet broad. She stopped at the edge and turned. McKay joined her five minutes later. It took him several minutes to catch his normal breathing.
“It sure is a mess, ain’t it?”
She agreed with him but didn’t say so. She seldom commented on the obvious.
“Why’re you sticking with me?”
“Because you got the Horn, and that’s the only way to get us out of this miserable place. Also, if anybody’s going to survive, you are. I stick with you, I live too.”
“Does that mean you’re no longer loyal to Urthona?”
He smiled. “He ain’t paid me recently. And what’s more, he ain’t never going to pay me. He’s promised a lot to me, but I know that once he’s safe, he’s going to get rid of me.”
She was silent for a while. McKay was a hired killer. He couldn’t be trusted, but he could be used.
“I’ll do my best to get you back to Earth,” she said. “I can’t promise it. You might have to settle for some other world. Perhaps Kickaha’s.”
“Any world’s better than this one.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen some of them. I give you my word that I’ll try my best. However, for the time being, you’ll pretend to be in my uncle’s employ.”
“And tell you what he plans, including any monkey business.”
“Of course.”
He was probably sincere. It was possible, though, that Urthona had put him up to this.
By then some of the tribe had also gotten to the base of the mountain. The others were mostly riders who hadn’t so far managed to control their beasts. A few were injured or dead.
The stampede was over. Those animals still on their hooves or paws had scattered. There was more room for them on the plain now. The birds covered the piles of carcasses like flies on a dead dog.
She began walking down to the channel. The tribe followed her, some talking about the unexpected bonus of meat. They would have enough to stuff themselves silly for two days before the bodies got too rank. Or perhaps three days. She didn’t know just how fastidious they were. From what she’d seen, not very.
Halfway to the channel, McKay stopped, and said, “Here comes the chief.”
She looked toward the pass. Coming down the slope from it was Trenn. Though his gregg had bolted and taken him into the valley itself, it was now under control. She was surprised to see that the heavy black clouds over the sea-country were fading away. And the lightning had stopped.
A minute later, several other grewigg and riders came over the top of the rise. By the time she got to the channel, they were close enough for her to recognize them. One was her uncle. Until then, the moosoids had been trotting. Now Urthona urged his into a gallop. He pulled the sweating panting saliva-flecked beast up when he got close, and he dismounted swiftly. The animal groaned, crumpled, turned over on its side and died.
Urthona had a strange expression. His green eyes were wide, and he looked pale.
“Anana! Anana!” he cried. “I saw it! I saw it!”
“Saw what?” she said.
He was trembling.
“My palace! It was on the sea! Heading out away from the shore!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Obviously, if he’d been able to catch up to it, he wouldn’t be here.
“How fast does it travel?” she said.
“When the drive is on automatic, one kilometer an hour.”
“I don’t suppose that after all this time you’d have the slightest idea what path it will take?”
He spread out his hands and shrugged his shoulders.
The situation seemed hopeless. There was no time to build a sailing boat, even if tools were available, and to try to catch up with it. But it was possible that the palace would circle around the sea and come back to this area.
“Eventually,” Urthona said, “the palace will leave this country. It’ll go through one of the passes. Not this one, though. It isn’t wide enough.”
Anana did not accept this statement as necessarily true. For all she knew, the palace contained devices which could affect the shape-changing. But if Urthona had any reason to think that the palace could come through this pass, he surely would not have told her about seeing it.
There was nothing to be done about the palace at this time. She put it out of her mind for the time being, but her uncle was a worrier. He couldn’t stop talking about it, and he probably would dream about it. Just to devil him, she said, “Maybe Orc got to it when it was close to shore. He might be in the palace now. Or, more probably, he’s gated through to some other world.”
Urthona’s fair skin became even whiter. “No! He couldn’t! It would be impossible! In the first place, he wouldn’t dare venture into the sea-land during the storm. In the second place, he couldn’t get to it. He’d have to swim … I think. And in the third place, he doesn’t know the entrance-code.”
Anana laughed.
Urthona scowled. “You just said that to upset me.”
“I did,
yes. But now that I think about it, Orc could have done it if he was desperate enough to risk the lightning.”
McKay, who had been listening nearby, said, “Why would he take the risk unless he knew the palace was there? And how could he know it was there unless he’d already gone into the sea-land? Which he wouldn’t do unless he knew …”
Anana said swiftly, “But he could have seen it from the pass, and that might have been enough for him.”
She didn’t really believe this, but she wasn’t too sure. When she walked away from her uncle, she wondered if Orc just might have done it. Her effort to bug Urthona had backfired. Now she was worried.
A few minutes later, the storm ceased. The thunder quit rolling; the clouds cleared as if sucked into a giant vacuum cleaner. The shaman and the chief talked together for a while, then approached Anana.
Trenn said, “Agent of the Lord, we have a question. Is the Lord no longer angry? Is it safe for us to go into the sea-land?”
She didn’t dare to show any hesitation. Her role called for her to be intimate with the Lord’s plans.
If she guessed wrong, she’d lose her credibility.
“The wrath of the Lord is finished,” she said. “It’ll be safe now.”
If the clouds appeared again and lightning struck, she would have to run away as quickly as possible.
The departure did not take place immediately, however. The animals that had bolted had to be caught, the scattered goods collected, and the ceremonies for the dead gone through. About two hours later, the tribe headed for the pass. Anana was delighted to be in a country where there were trees that did not walk, and where thick woods and an open sea offered two ready avenues of flight.
The Wendow went down the long slope leading to sand beaches. The chief turned left, and the others followed. According to Nurgo, their destination lay about half a day’s travel away. Their stronghold was about fifteen minutes’ walk inland from the beach.
The World of Tiers, Volume 2 Page 33