She turned and looked at Screech, who was being quickly and efficiently wrapped in vine netting. The draakmen secured the derkat’s arms first, then cut the netting over his head and pulled it away from his eyes. The rumble of anger which issued from Screech’s throat made the draakmen handle their quarry with the utmost caution. One of them placed a vine rope over Screech’s head and drew the rope tight. Screech let loose with a yowl that echoed around the hills.
Another draakman was holding Gi by the scruff of his neck. The olvaar’s whistle of protest ended in a fit of coughing.
Fearing Gi might choke to death, Poco kicked the draakman on her right. The toe of her shoe found a solid target on his shin. The draakman gasped and released her.
Poco jerked free and ran up to the draakman who held Gi.
“Stop it!” she yelled. “You are hurting him! Give him to me!”
The masked draakman just looked at her. Two others closed on Poco from behind, but did not touch her as she reached for the olvaar.
She cradled Gi in her arms and gently massaged the back of his neck. “Are you all right, Gi?”
Gi whistled yes, then added, “What we do now?”
A hand closed on Poco’s hair, jerking her head back.
“Keep him quiet or he will be taken from you! Understood?” The words were in trader.
Poco looked at the draakman who had spoken, and nodded. He released her hair and walked over to stand before Dhal.
“You are Ni,” the draakman said. The statement sounded to Poco like an accusation.
Dhal hesitated, then nodded, knowing that he would gain nothing by denying the obvious.
“You have strange companions,” the draakman said. He glanced at Screech. “Very strange and very dangerous. Who are you? Where do you come from?”
“My name is Dhalvad. My friends and I come from Annaroth and Port Bhalvar. We—”
“Sarissa!” the draakman hissed.
“No! No, we are not Sarissa! We were chased from our homes by the Sarissa!” Dhal protested.
The draakman just stared at Dhal; his silence was unnerving. Poco felt a chill down her back as she looked at the other draakmen standing around them. Their masks made it impossible to read their reactions to Dhal’s statement.
Dhal spoke angrily. “Tell us who you are! Why do you attack us? What wrong have we done?”
The draakman’s voice dropped to a threatening tone. “You are where you should not be! You were attacked because you failed to give the code for passage!”
“What code?” Dhal demanded.
“If you were a friend, you would know the code,” the draakman responded.
Poco’s curiosity was pricked by the slight accent with which the draakman spoke trades. Who were these people and why were they guarding this shadowy forest?
Dhal looked intently at the draakman standing before him, trying to pierce the shadows created by the man’s mask.
“We did not mean to trespass,” Dhal said, his tone less hostile. “We were on our way to the great freshwater lake beyond the mountains. We are not exactly sure where it lies, but we were told—”
“Why do you wish to go to this lake?” the draakman interrupted.
“We search for a legend,” Dhal answered evasively.
The draakman looked at Dhal a moment, then turned and signaled to those who held Screech.
“Get the derkat on his feet and keep a close watch on him. Make sure those vines are tight. We have far to go and I do not want him to get loose.”
Poco stepped forward and spoke to the one draakman who seemed to be in command. “We have come far and we mean you no harm. Please, all we ask is that you return our friend to us and let us go on our way. You have our word that we will not linger in your territory any longer than is absolutely necessary.”
The draakman waved her to silence.
“I have heard you. You are not guests here, but prisoners. You will come with us and do as you are told. There will be no bargains made. Also, there will be no talking among you or you will be gagged as well as tied.”
“Where are you taking us?” Dhal asked.
“Where we have taken your friend. He has not been harmed. Nor will you be, as long as you obey all of my commands.”
Chapter 20
A FEW HOURS OF STEADY CLIMBING BROUGHT THE draakmen and their prisoners to a large open meadow, in the middle of which stood a tower of gray-green stone, rising above the tops of the nearest aban trees. The word watchtower entered Poco’s mind as soon as she saw the building.
She nudged Dhal in the side with her elbow. “Dhal, what does it remind you of?”
Dhal answered without turning. “The Ni-lach tower in Port Bhalvar, only this one is still intact.”
“And occupied,” Poco added, keeping her voice low.
One of the draakmen left the shelter of the trees and walked toward the tower. Dhal turned to Poco. “Are you thinking what I am?” he whispered.
“That the Ni-lach built the tower?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Now all we have to figure out is who these draakmen are and why they came into possession of what was obviously once Ni territory.”
The single draakman approached the tower and disappeared around a flight of steps at the base of the building. He was gone for some time.
Poco studied the tower, noting the narrow windows spaced unevenly at different levels, the three small balconies facing in different directions.
“If it is like the one in Port Bhalvar,” Dhal said, “there should be a winding staircase inside that leads to the top. They could see a long distance from up there. That could be how they spotted us.”
“I doubt it, Dhal. The trees are too thick for them to have seen us. The tower must have another use.”
The head draakman turned and glared at them. “No more talk or you will be gagged,” he warned.
Dhal and Poco exchanged glances, but neither was willing to test their captor’s patience. They sat down on the ground. Screech and Gi also settled down once it became evident that they were going to have a long wait.
With nothing else to do, Poco studied the hideous masks that the draakmen wore. She wondered how the masks were formed, what kind of special pastes had been used to give them the appearance of folded layers of skin. The colors ranged from dark brown to green-blue. The eye sockets in each mask were outlined with a black pigment, which gave the draakmen the appearance of walking dead.
Why the masks? she wondered. What secret do they guard so carefully?
The single draakman returned from the tower about two hours later. Poco, Dhal, and the others were ordered to their feet and soon they were walking again, winding their way past the stone tower and upward along a tree-shaded trail that looked well used.
By midday the lead draakman ordered the prisoners blindfolded, including Gi-arobi, who now rode in a makeshift shoulder pouch that Dhal had fashioned. Though strong and healthy, Gi’s short legs were no match for the pace set by the quick-striding draakmen.
By late afternoon Poco was exhausted by the effort of walking blind, and she was relieved to hear the lead draak-man call for a halt. Someone pulled down on Poco’s arms, indicating that she should sit.
“Feed them and give them something to drink,” the lead draakman said, as he passed by. “And see that their eyes remain covered.”
Poco thought to protest, but then decided that it would not do any good. She ate the food that was placed in her hands: small, chewy balls of dough that tasted of salt, ardu nuts, and honey; dried kansa, a fruit common only to marshlands; and smooth paton wine.
The rest was brief—the draakmen seemed in a hurry to press on.
The climbing became steeper as the day wore on, then suddenly leveled off. Poco was glad for the respite, for the back of her legs ached with the strain of the climb. She noticed the warmth of sun on her back and decided that they had finally left the forest behind. But shortly they were again plunged into the coolness of shado
ws.
The damp air that hit her neck and face told Poco that they had entered some kind of a cave. The draakmen who walked to either side of Poco held her arms tightly as the floor began to slant downward. Were they protecting her from a fall, she wondered, or was there opportunity for escape? With her eyes covered she had no way to tell.
Curiosity finally got the better of her. Lifting her bound wrists, she pretended to scratch her cheek. In the process, one of her fingers caught in a fold of the cloth covering her eyes and she tugged the blindfold down.
Her vision was blurred for a few seconds. The bouncing torchlight cast grotesque shadows on cave walls.
Suddenly one of the draakmen saw that her blindfold had slipped. He quickly pulled the cloth back into place, then squeezed her arm until Poco winced. She realized that he was warning her to behave.
Who were these draakmen? Where were they being taken? The two questions went round and round in her mind until she grew disgusted with herself.
She soon lost track of the time. She knew they had been in the cave longer than an hour, but beyond that she would have been guessing. The darkness and repetitive shuffle of feet disoriented her.
Suddenly she heard a strange buzzing in her ears, and a moment later she was falling. Hands caught her, lowering her to the floor. She was aware of someone cursing, then darkness claimed her.
Poco woke to find herself lying flat on her back. Dhal was leaning over her. He sat back when he saw that her eyes were open. He looked worried.
“Are you all right, Poco?”
“What happened?” she asked.
“I think you fainted.”
“Fainted?” Her disbelief was plain.
Dhal nodded.
“But I have never fainted!” she protested.
“Well you have now,” Dhal replied. “I think you surprised everyone, especially me. I didn’t know you were the fainting type.”
“I’m not!” she snapped, sitting up. “At least, I never was before.”
“Never mind, Poco, it doesn’t matter,” Dhal said. “I want you to lie back down for a minute, so I can check you over.
She pushed his hands away. “No! I am fine!”
“I want to make sure,” Dhal said firmly.
“No!”
Suddenly Screech stepped into view. He had been standing behind the raised pallet upon which Poco lay. He leaned over and pushed her back down on the pallet.
“You will let the Healer see what is wrong with you,” he signed.
“There is nothing wrong with me!”
Screech would accept no argument. He signed that she was to stay where he had put her, then he touched Dhal’s shoulder, signaling that the Healer should continue with his examination.
Dhal nodded to Screech, then turned back to Poco. “I wish I could make you behave that easily,” he said.
Poco made a face, consciously biting back words that would be better left unsaid.
Dhal leaned over and kissed her. “If there is anything wrong with you, I will find it,” he promised.
“I am just tired and hungry,” she answered. “Hunger can make people faint.”
“I know,” Dhal agreed. “But let’s make sure, all right?”
Poco knew what Dhal meant to do, but she had never experienced his healing touch and was hesitant.
“Where are we?” she asked, trying to delay the inevitable.
Dhal glanced around the small cell. The walls were dark stone, the single door was wood.
“My guess is that we are somewhere inside the mountain,” he said. He leaned across her and brushed his fingertips against the wall; they came away wet. “Quite a way underground, if I’m not wrong.”
“Dhal, what do you think they will do with us?” Poco asked.
“I don’t know. I have thought of several possibilities, but until I know more about these draakmen, I would only be guessing.”
Screech growled softly to get their attention.
“They have the smell of Utura trappers,” he signed. “If we do not escape soon, we may find ourselves separated and sold to the highest bidder at some slave market.”
The word slave made Poco freeze inside. She had seen the cruelty of slavery in Port Sulta and Port Bhalvar, and the prospect of joining the ranks of slaves who served Sarissa masters made her close her eyes and pray for some kinder fate.
Dhal took her hands. “Poco, look at me. I know what you are thinking, but it has not happened yet. We may not be free, but we are together and we do not know that these draakmen are slavers.”
Poco nodded. “Right. Don’t jump overboard until the boat is ready to sink.”
“What?”
“Something Trass used to say to me,” she responded, memory of the old half-blood softening the worry lines on her forehead.
Dhal released her hands. “Are you ready to let me check you over now?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” she answered. “Will I feel anything?”
“No, I don’t think so, but I could make you sleep if you would prefer.”
She shook her head. “No, I want to stay awake.”
Dhal moved his hands up and down the length of her body, not quite touching her. She stifled a nervous urge to giggle and took several deep breaths, trying to relax.
She looked around, trying to ignore Dhal’s healing touch. The small room was lighted by three glowing clumps of fayyal rocks, the luminescent sea rocks that the upper-class Sarissa used instead of oil lanterns in their homes.
Dhal quickly finished his examination and slowly raised his head. A smile lighted his face.
“Well?” Poco said.
Dhal leaned down and whispered, “You are pregnant.”
Poco’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Her thoughts flicked over the days and weeks they had spent crossing the plains and she realized that she had lost track of time. “Really, Dhal?”
“Really,” he answered, laughing.
Disbelief, dismay, pleasure—a variety of emotions surged through her. Her last feelings were of happiness. Sitting up, she went into Dhal’s arms and held him tight.
“Happy?” he whispered in her ear.
She laughed. “Yes, though it is the last thing we need at this moment!”
“Don’t worry, things will work out.” He hugged her. “I love you, Poco!”
“And I you!”
Gi whistled for attention. “What wrong with Poco?” he asked, looking from one to the other.
“Nothing, Gi,” Dhal answered, smiling. “Nothing at all.”
“Singer is not ill?” Screech asked.
Dhal shook his head. “She is not ill, Screech. She is pregnant.”
Gi let loose with a shrill whistle that was all but lost in Ssaal-lr’s triumphant roar.
Suddenly the door to the cell opened. At Gi’s whistled warning, Screech whirled and faced the two draakmen who entered the cell. The derkat’s growl halted the two men in the shadow of the doorway and for a few seconds no one moved. Then slowly, one of the men moved into the cell; he wore no mask.
Dhal jumped to his feet, his attention riveted on the draakman’s green hair.
“You are Ni!” he cried softly, hardly daring to believe.
The Ni turned and spoke to the draakman behind him. “Take your mask off, Paa-tol, and come in, please.”
Poco and Dhal watched as the second draakman untied the lacing that held his hide mask in place.
Gi whistled his excitement as the mask was removed and the second man entered the cell: Paa-tol was also one of the Green Ones.
The first Ni glanced at Screech, then stepped toward Dhal. The draak-hide costume he wore was similar to that worn by the other draakmen except for the silver-colored chest harness and a red draak-hide sheath that held a sword with intricate carvings on the hilt. His waist-length green braids told Poco that he was of some importance among his people.
“My name is Chulu,” he said. “I am leader of the Gerri Mountain Draak Watch. You will give me your names ple
ase.”
Dhal hesitated then said, “I am called Dhalvad. I am foster son to Haradan sar Nath.”
“Haradan? Is that not a Sarissa name?” the old Ni asked.
“Haradan was not Sarissa,” Dhal replied. “Twice he saved me from the Sarissa, once when I was a little child, and again a few months ago while we were in the Mountains of the Lost in Val-hrodhur. He died doing it!”
Chulu’s eyes narrowed. “You have been in Val-hrodhur that recently? All of you?”
“Yes, but we found it deserted. That is why we came here. We are looking for the Ni of Jjaan-bi. Do you know of them?”
Chulu glanced at Paa-tol, then turned back to Dhal. “We are the Ni-lach of Jjaan-bi.”
“This is Jjaan-bi?” Dhal asked, confused.
Chulu nodded. “A part of it.” He gestured to Dhal with his hand. “Come with me. We will talk.”
Dhal straightened. “I go nowhere without my friends. We will not be separated except by force.”
Screech growled, emphasizing Dhal’s statement.
Both Ni looked at the derkat, then Chulu looked at Poco. “Can the woman walk?” he asked Dhal.
“Yes,” Dhal answered. “If it isn’t too far.”
“What is wrong with her?” Paa-tol asked.
“Nothing,” Dhal replied. “She was just tired.”
“May I ask what you were doing to her when we entered?” Chulu asked.
Dhal glanced at the door and for the first time noticed several small holes at eye level. “How long have you been watching us?” he demanded.
“Long enough. Will you answer my question, please?”
Dhal hesitated then, deciding that the truth would serve better than a lie, he answered. “I am a Healer, saan. I was checking to see if she—”
“Did you say Healer!” Chulu’s surprise was evident.
“Yes, and a very good one,” Poco answered. She swung her legs off the raised pallet and stood beside Dhal. “It’s what got us started in this hunt for legends.”
Chulu looked confused.
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