Refugees

by R. A. Denny

  “What’s in your other hand?” I said, playfully tugging at his arm.

  He put his other hand behind his back, and brought out the arm that I had tugged on, just like he did when I was a little girl, and showed me the open palm. I knew the game well, so I tugged on his other arm. Finally, I tried to walk around behind him to look, which caused him to laugh and he finally presented the treasure to me.

  It was the most wonderful creature I had ever seen. It had scales on the back of its head and back like a pinecone. Instead of glides, it had large open wings like those of an owl, a spiked ridge that ran from its head down along its spine to the end of its long tail, and its back feet were webbed like those of a duck. I turned it over in my hands and laughed with delight. I did not have to ask what it was. I knew it was one of the singing winged creatures that flew among the stars in the song of the beginning. It was a dragon.

  “Oh Papa,” I exclaimed. “It’s wonderful!” And I threw my arms around his neck, “Thank you!”

  Chapter 31

  Mud - Amanki

  I was in a room unlike any room I had ever been in before. The ceiling suddenly slanted upward to a high peak and then came straight down to join a flat ceiling once again. Directly below the raised peak there was a rectangular pool of water that was not surrounded by mud and reeds, but instead seemed to be surrounded by flat smooth bricks glazed in bright colors of green and blue. Water was bubbling up into the pool from below. At the opposite end of the water there were three large stone thrones, with the largest one in the middle raised on a platform above the others.

  A big man sitting in the center throne stood, stepped down and began pacing. He wore a tall golden crown that looked like the head of a fish opening its mouth toward the sky. On each side of the crown, red jewels were embedded in the center of a hole shaped like an eye. From the back of the crown fell a golden scaled cloak that resembled the body of a large fish which ended in a split fish tail. A netlike skirt attached by a sash around the emperor’s waist fell to the floor in the back. Underneath, he wore a short golden colored skirt with red fringe on the bottom. Sandals covered his unwebbed feet. He had a square, curled grey beard, long curled hair that fell to his shoulders, deep set grey eyes under dark bushy eyebrows, and a hairy chest. The other two thrones were empty.

  The man in the crown sat back down upon his throne. He closed his eyes and began rubbing his temple with his fingers. A tall older woman walked into the room, dressed in a red robe, with layers of gold fringes encircling her body, her white hair piled on top of her head in curls. As she reached the emperor, she spoke in a surprisingly deep voice:

  “Another headache?”

  “I had the dream again, Mother.”

  “Which one?”

  “The one about my brother. It’s always the same. I go to visit my brother’s tomb and hear him scratching away from inside. I can’t get the sound out of my mind,” the emperor said as he rubbed his temple more furiously. Through gritted teeth, he continued, “Another man appears by my side, and suggests that we open the tomb. When he opens it, I see my brother curled in a ball, his face scratched, clumps of hair having been pulled from his head, and the nails having been torn from his fingers.”

  “My dear son, there is nothing to worry about. Your brother’s body was placed in a sealed rock tomb. Nobody could hear his scratching.”

  “But what if the prophecy is true, what if he is still alive?”

  “That is ridiculous, nobody could survive in a rock tomb for seventeen years!” she whispered vehemently.

  “Maybe the lizard skin drug we gave him put him into a long hibernation, like the rock people. Who knows how long he might survive.”

  His mother rolled her eyes.

  “Ok, maybe not, but Mother, what about that star? It appeared just like the prophecy said, didn’t it?” the emperor asked as he stepped over to a large basin of water on a nearby stand and began washing his hands, nervously.

  “A coincidence. I’m sure many new stars have appeared over the years. Don’t let the outdated myths of a bunch of old men get to you! Dazbun’s dead. As for the rest of it, no son of a duck will ever take your throne!”

  “Hopefully Bladar has seen to that, if the duck baby did not already die of disease.”

  “There, my sweet son. You see, you worry about nothing.”

  “Yes, but what if they open the tomb and look inside? I should have thrown Dazbun’s body into the ocean!”

  “You mustn’t think or speak of such things. Your brother was corrupting our people and deserved to die,” she hissed in a low whisper.

  Just then a side door opened and a strange man with yellow braided hair wrapped around his head and a yellow robe stepped into the room and bowed.

  “Forgive me Your Highness…Madam Serpotia. Would you like me to come back later?”

  “What is it?” the ruler asked, annoyed.

  “A Sparaggi horseman has arrived and seeks audience with Your Majesty. “

  “A Sparaggi horseman, here?” The emperor seemed very upset.

  “Yes, he says he has news that you will want to hear right away.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “Like they all look, Your Highness.”

  “Fine. Bring him in, but first bring in my bodyguards.”

  The Empress Mother, Serpotia, took her seat upon one of the side thrones, and two huge barrel chested guards entered the room and positioned themselves at either side of the thrones. They were each armed with a nasty looking weapon that consisted of an axe mounted on a long shaft with a hooked spike above the axe. The guards wore some kind of scale armor upon their heads and the backs of their bodies. It extended across the backs of their arms and legs and even across their chins, where their beards would be. Their chests were bare and except for their armor, they wore only short leather skirts which hung down from their waists in layered strips, lined in red and studded with metal. They were completely silent. My attention was drawn toward a barefooted man who had entered the room behind them, dressed only in trousers, with ornate tattoos covering his chest. His hair was like a mane. He waded through the pool of water which came to just above his ankles. When he almost reached the far end closest to the throne, the man lay prone in the water face down, until the king on the throne told him to rise. Then he rose on one knee, dripping wet.

  “You have news for me?” the emperor said in the Tzoladian tongue, getting straight to the point.

  “Yes, I have news from Bladar. ‘The Emperor’s Harvest’ along the Land of Duck’s River has begun.” He held up a string from which several webbed feet dangled, dripping water now.

  “How dare you bring those unclean items in here? Those should have been left outside the gate to the city. I have no use for your barbaric customs. Get those out of my sight. You are to have been purified,” the flustered emperor said with disgust.

  “But Bladar instructed…”

  “Bladar is not the emperor, I am!” Then turning to one of the guards, his eyes flashing like the stones on the side of the crown, the emperor commanded, “Get those out of here!”

  One of the muscular guards with his backside covered in scaled armor approached the edge of the water. He took the string of webbed feet and silently removed them from the room.

  “You better have a good reason for coming here,” said the emperor.

  “The chosen lands are ready for settlement.”

  “So soon?”

  “The Sparaggi move faster than the wind!”

  “What else did Bladar send to me…besides those barbaric relics, I mean?”

  The man standing in the pool hesitated. “He said to tell you he has located the prey and is on its tail.”

  The emperor glanced at his mother when this news was reported, but then said, “If you have nothing of value for me, why have you come? To die? Why should I not kill you now for bringing me news of Bladar’s failure?”

  “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I came to report Bladar�
��s success. If you let me live and leave, then when I return it will be with more good news of the completed task,” the man replied.

  “Very well, tell Bladar he will receive the rest of his payment only when the Harvest is complete.”

  “Forgive me Your Highness, but Bladar instructed me…”

  “GO!”

  I woke with a start. Manhera was sleeping, curled up in the bottom of the boat. At first I was shaken, having just dreamed of a mud beast carrying a string of Webby feet. But, Baskrod looked at me with a steady gaze.

  “You have been dreaming,” he said. “Tell me your dream.”

  I felt a chill down my back for a moment, and then I felt perfectly calm and at home, like somehow I always knew this moment was coming. Finally, I believed I was about to get some real answers.

  Chapter 32

  Trees - Brina

  The magpie that arrived at my home had a roll of tied up strings dangling from its leg. I had always loved the beautiful black and white messenger magpies. They were so intelligent that they seemed almost like people. The magpie cocked its head and looked at Papa as he removed the string from its leg, then it called out, “scoj cadom.” It sounded like nonsense for a moment. Then suddenly, I realized that in the cat rider tongue scoj cadom meant “take home.” Was it possible this magpie was speaking in cat rider? My heart leapt as I wondered for a moment if this magpie had been sent by Baskrod. Papa, who also seemed surprised by the strange sounding words, unrolled the strings to reveal the pattern of knots and anxiously studied the tied strings to find out what the message might be.

  He read it out loud: “The council requests that Brina report to the dungeon…”

  I held my breath. The magpie must belong to the dungeon guards, which explained why I did not recognize it.

  “…to read the attached message to the cat rider who is a prisoner.”

  I let my breath out. At least I wasn’t to be the prisoner; they meant the cat rider platform prison, not the dungeon pit.

  “Scoj cadom!” the magpie repeated. I was too intent on the knotted message to pay much attention to the bird.

  “The written message is quite clear,” said Papa, “but the spoken message is unintelligible.”

  "Maybe he’s just repeating something he heard,” Glorna offered.

  Papa winked at her. "Yes, that is entirely possible." He handed me the unrolled message. I hurriedly glanced at the contents and then explained to my Papa, “It’s a message explaining to the cat rider the findings of the council. It will be easy to translate.”

  “I don’t want you going alone,” Papa said. “I will accompany you.”

  “Scoj cadom,” the magpie cawed loudly, and I realized she was waiting for a treat. I hurried over to the kitchen, grabbed some berries from a bowl, and held them out in my hand for her. She grabbed them in her beak, hopped a few times, and then flapped her wings and flew away.

  “It almost seemed like she was trying to tell us something,” Glorna said. Glorna had a way with birds and animals. She was always sensitive to their cues and imitated their sounds better than the rest of us, though all Gliders were trained in imitation.

  “It’s best if we do not waste any time,” Papa said. “We’ll be back soon,” he assured Mama and Glorna. We grabbed our bows, and then we took off from the platform just like the magpie had done, but while her wings lifted her up higher, we first glided downward to another tree, then climbed and took off again.

  To reach the guard tree, we had to travel to the upper edge of the forest, beyond the houses. It was near the tree where the prisoner was sleeping on a platform built around the trunk, high above the ground. The guards did not need to man the guard tree all the time, but reported there periodically to take care of the prisoner’s needs. Stikale was waiting atop the guard tree platform with his bow.

  “Thank you for arriving promptly,” he said with a grin.

  “I want to accompany my daughter,” Papa announced in an authoritative tone.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Stikale responded. “No problem. Just follow me.”

  He climbed a little higher, then took off for the prisoner’s platform. The cat rider had been sitting on the platform, leaning against the tree trunk but when he saw us gliding toward him, he stood. He seemed amused to see me, which was very irritating. There was nothing to fear from the cat rider since he was at such a disadvantage on the platform.

  As we landed, he bent his right arm and lifted his open palm to face us. “Welcome,” he said in his tongue.

  I translated for Papa and the guard. They both nodded. I found it audacious for the cat rider, who was a prisoner, to welcome us to the platform on which he was imprisoned, but I tried not to show my irritation.

  His wavy, tawny colored hair fell over his ears and almost to his shoulders. His grey blue eyes twinkled as he smiled, which caused the dimples in his cheeks to appear while the cleft in his chin diminished. I was determined not to notice his good looks and to ignore any of his attempts to charm us.

  “I’m so glad to see you once again,” he said to me, as he gazed directly into my eyes with a slight upturn of his lips into a smile. As always, it was a bit unnerving.

  “I have been asked to read you a message,” I said in as even a voice as I could muster.

  He seemed very interested as I unrolled and smoothed the strings, then ran my fingers across the knots, preparing to read.

  “After considering all the evidence…”

  “Very impressive. I’ve always liked smart girls. Do you read as well as you translate?” he asked.

  I tried to ignore his obvious attempt to insult me, and began again, “After considering all the evidence, the council has reached a decision. According to our laws, as a prisoner, you could face death, banishment, adoption, or freedom. We have considered all options and decided that you will be banished. We have commissioned a band of colonists to set sail for new lands. They will take you with them and leave you at a place of their choosing.”

  I looked up at him and saw, before he could guard his face, a look of shock and confusion, then before I could react, he snatched the strings from my hands. As he reached toward me, my father reacted quickly and yanked him up by his neck, pushing the back of his head up against the trunk. The boy glared at him with guarded eyes, and seemed to be holding his breath.

  “Tell him that if he touches you again, I will find him, I will hunt him down, and I will kill him.”

  I had never heard my father speak in such an icy tone.

  “Tell him,” he repeated, more gently to me.

  “The man holding you by the neck is my father,” I said. “He says that if you ever touch me again, he will find you, he will hunt you down, and he will kill you.”

  The boy did not dare look at me, and of course, he could not speak since my father had him by the neck. My father slowly lowered his feet to the ground and released his hold. The boy gasped for breath and then rubbed his neck, but said nothing.

  “You have delivered the message, Brina. Our business here is done,” Papa said.

  I knew this meant it was time to go, and without even glancing back at the cat rider, I leapt from the platform. Papa and the guard followed. Papa did not say another word the rest of the journey back to our home. When we reached home, Papa still seemed angry.

  “What happened?” Mama asked.

  “I am going to speak to the council before Brina leaves. I am not comfortable with her being forced to interpret for that cat rider. I do not want him near her. I do not like the way he looks at her!” He hurriedly left the room and started to climb the trunk. I knew he was headed for the treetop platform. I had never seen him so angry in my life.

  Chapter 33

  Grass - Metlan

  The scouts had stopped for the night beyond the edge of the forest, on their way back to the main camp. Sholfo had just finished feeding his cat, Telski, the last morsels of antelope meat. She was lying in the sun, licking her front paws with satisfaction.
The other scouts had settled down to sleep through the hottest part of the day while Sholfo took his turn to as a guard, along with the cats who were always on guard even in their sleep. Across the field, near where the underbrush joined the grasses of the plain, Sholfo saw movement. Telski momentarily paused from her grooming. She pricked her ears and looked up, then nonchalantly went back to licking her paws. This meant that whatever had created the movement was nothing dangerous or out of the ordinary. It was probably also nothing good to eat. Sholfo stood and peered across the dry, brown grasses. Soon a rider-less lion came into view. It was coming at a fast trot toward them, but it seemed tired. There was always a concern that a wild lion from the forest would attack, but the way this one approached them so directly made Sholfo think that it was probably one of the two lions whose riders were missing and presumed dead.

  The scouting trip had been a disaster. King Maltan had ordered the scouts to ride into the Ancient Forest, even though Sholfo’s father had warned the king that the forest was full of fliers armed with bows and arrows. King Maltan, who was fixated on conquering the flier city, had informed Carvor that the fliers would not shoot the men. The king had been wrong and it had cost the life of a man and a cat. Even worse, Metlan, the prince, was missing.

  The scouts had been skeptical about Metlan joining them. Sholfo had befriended him, out of curiosity at first, but he had come to like him. Metlan did not talk down to Sholfo, and it was obvious that he genuinely cared for his cat, Pergassi. When Huntor had run from the fliers, Metlan had been captured. Now Sholfo’s father was faced with the unenviable duty of having to inform the king about Metlan’s fate. Sholfo was worried that his own father might lose his head.

  Telski started to walk toward the approaching cat, which meant that Telski recognized her. Sholfo watched as the two cats touched noses. When the newcomer turned her head he saw black stripes under each eye. Pergassi. Sholfo was happy to see that she had made it back to the tribe, but it was not a good sign with regard to Metlan. Pergassi would not have left him if he was still alive.