by Candy Rae
Danal was studying the map trying to work out exactly where they were.
“Well?” asked Derek.
“I think we’ve got another night’s walk ahead of us before we can say we are out of their likely route northwards.”
“Good,” announced Tala. “I’m getting sick of all this skulking about, at least then we’ll be able to travel in a straight line and not have to do all this weaving in and out among the sand dunes.”
“They’ll have scouts out,” warned Inalei from where he lay, head between paws and looking in under the canvas.
“There’s a mighty big difference between an occasional scout and a kohort of Larg,” opined Derek.
“That is not the problem,” said Inalei in a patient voice. “Remember, the Larg are like us, they can communicate with each other over distance. If one Larg sees us then he will tell others. We must tread our paws with care for three moons more at the very least.”
Tala groaned and began again to masticate the karku.
Two nights later their luck ran out.
Inalei had been right.
A Larg scout had been waiting, hidden under the sand. The four Lind had not sensed his presence. It was concluded afterwards that the scout had sensed, perhaps smelled their approach and had lain in wait above the wallow they were traversing.
The scout waited until the first three duos had passed by and then leapt at the fourth, Derek and Denei, talons at the ready.
Derek died instantly, his neck broken and Denei howled in anguish as the Larg talons raked him deep along his side.
Danal and Asya turned the instant they heard the scream, Danal’s sword slithering out of its sheath like a spirit of vengeance. They managed to kill the Larg but they were too late for Denei. He died a half bell later of blood loss and shock.
Once Denei had drawn his last breath Danal stood up.
“We have to go now.”
“We can’t just leave them here,” protested Tala. “We have to bury them.”
“No time. They would understand.”
“We can at least cover them over,” pleaded Tala.
“We’ll use the groundsheet,” said Philip, “it’ll be big enough and we can weigh it down with stones. There are plenty of them around.”
There was indeed no time to bury Derek and Denei. They stripped Denei’s harness of everything that could be of use then did as Philip suggested.
“Goodbye Derek and Denei,” whispered Tala as the party re-mounted, “if we can we’ll come back and bury you, I promise.”
“Run,” urged Danal to Asya, “run as if your life depends on it.”
“It does,” was her acerbic comment as she did.
They rode the rest of the night and into the morning in grim silence and fast, trying to put as much distance between them and any Larg who might be following as possible. The paws of the Lind skimmed over the sand leaving little puffs of sand dust behind them.
: The sun is up. Asya, what do we do? Do we hole up or keep going? :
: Inalei thinks we should stop : Asya informed Danal.
: But what if that Larg who killed Derek and Denei told his friends? :
: Inalei thinks he was scouting on his own but even if he did it cannot be helped. We need to rest :
That’s it, decided Danal. If the Lind were indicating they were tired and needed to rest then there was no point trying to carry on.
: Okay then. First suitable spot Asya. Tell the others :
They made camp in silence. It was strange to be without Derek and Denei. They missed Derek’s sardonic banter and Denei’s occasional quips.
The sun was starting to go down when Asya, who was on watch, ‘shouted’ in Danal’s mind : People are coming! :
: People? : queried Danal : not Larg? :
: People : she answered in a firm ‘voice’ : about thirty of them :
Asya, Inalei and Jilsei took up a protective stance in front of the awning.
“There are people out there,” said Danal shaking Philip awake. The Baron rolled off his bedroll and grasped for his sword. Tala woke with a start.
“Get your knife,” Danal ordered. “Asya says there are people approaching.”
“Out here?”
“Nomads,” judged Philip, “ex-slaves. I’d heard some make their home here.”
“Pretty inhospitable place,” she said.
“Better this than the slave-pens in some of the mines.”
“So what do we do?”
“We see what they want,” replied Danal and Philip nodded. “You never know, they might be able to help us. Asya, are they on foot?”
“They are riding,” she answered.
“Desert jezdic,” Inalei confirmed.
“Horses wouldn’t last long out here,” said Philip. “Wonder how they managed to catch and tame them? I don’t like jezdic, do you know that they can kick forwards, with their back hooves?”
“The people are behind that sand dune over there,” Inalei butted in, “they know we are here.”
“Tala, get under the awning,” Danal commanded, drawing his sword.
“I will not,” she flared and stepped up beside him.
“Behind Inalei then.”
Tala complied although she didn’t look happy about it.
They could hear the murmur of voices and the occasional bray of the jezdic, then they spied shadowy movements on top of the dune as the nomads peered over to see who or what lay in their path.
The shadows disappeared and a disembodied male voice called out, “we know that you are there. Put away your weapons.”
: I don’t think so :
: Talk to them : urged Asya : they don’t sound dangerous :
“They’re not asking us to drop our weapons, only to put them away,” advised Philip in a low voice. “I think we should do as he says.”
Philip sheathed his sword and after a moments pause Danal did the same. Tala replaced her knife in her belt.
“We’ve done that,” Danal called back.
“Keep your arms away from your sides,” commanded that same disembodied voice, “don’t try anything. We have archers and have you surrounded.”
: They have : confirmed Asya who had been listening as the nomads formed their containing circle : Do as he says :
A mounted figure loomed out of the darkness and walked towards them. As the man and his jezdic approached the six saw that the rider was well wrapped in the flowing garments of the desert inhabitant and that the jezdic was likewise dark in colour, unlike the jezdic of the northern continents who were striped black and white. The man’s mount was nervous and the nomad was holding the creature on a tight rein. Its nostrils were sniffing in the direction of Asya, Inalei and Jilsei.
Some lindlengths away they stopped and the man dismounted. He peered at them from behind his turban. He stared a long time at the three Lind. He looked strong and rather heavyset.
“Three men and three Lind by all that’s holy,” he said at last, “now, that is a sight not for everyday. What is your business here?”
“We’re passing through,” answered Danal in an even and cautious voice. “We mean you no harm.”
The man laughed. “It is us who could do the harm, if we had a mind to. Passing through to where? There is nothing out here but rock and sand.”
“We’re searching for something,” Danal replied, thinking he could say that much.
“Something very important,” added Tala and Danal shot her a disapproving look.
“Ah, a woman,” the man said, his eyes narrowing. “Where are you from?”
Tala dug Philip in the ribs, warning him to say nothing and so give away the fact that he was from Murdoch and continued, “we are from the northern continent, sent on a mission of utmost importance. My friend is right, we mean you no harm.”
“You have Lind with you. Are you from Vadath?”
“Yes, we are,” Danal answered. “I am Vadeln Danal of the Avuzdel.”
Only when Danal said tha
t last word did the man begin to relax. He led his jezdic closer.
“I am Padrig,” he announced, “in command of our group. Forgive me my suspicions Vadeln Danal but much in the desert is not as it first appears and I have learned to be cautious of strangers.”
Now that he was closer, Danal could see that he was not a large man underneath his voluminous desert garb after all. He could also see the outline of a sword hilt beneath the robes.
“So,” Padrig began again, “a mission of importance?” He frowned, “are you on your own then, the six of you?”
“We were eight but we had an encounter with a Larg scout and two were killed,” Tala answered.
Padrig’s nostrils flared, much as his mounts were doing. “Just the one?” he demanded.
“As far as we are aware he was on his own.”
“Was?”
“The Larg scout is dead,” said Danal in a flat voice. He was no stranger to sudden death but the demises of Derek and Denei had hit him hard. He had come to like the young man very much.
Padrig stayed silent and Danal assumed, quite correctly, that the nomad was assessing the situation much as any good commander would.
“Have your Lind sensed any others on your trail?” Padrig asked at last. “We thought they were Larg themselves at first.”
The three Lind raised astonished and affronted faces in Padrig’s direction and he raised his hand in denial and apology. “No offence meant I’m sure, but we have heard of the Larg and their Altuinq although we have never come across any.”
“It is best to be cautious,” agreed Danal.
“If there were Larg there we would have sensed them,” interrupted Inalei. “We are Avuzdel and trained in seeking without being sensed ourselves.”
“You did not sense us though did you?” asked Padrig.
“We were not looking for you,” Inalei answered, surprised. “We did sense your presence but thought you were a herd of jezdic if truth be told.”
“It’s best to be truthful,” agreed Padrig with a short laugh, “and we have learned to keep any thoughts tight within us when we are out here. It is not merely you Lind who can sense emotions - as we know to our cost.” He grimaced.
Tala wondered who Padrig had known who had been caught by the Larg.
“Now,” continued Padrig, “since there does not appear to be any immediate danger around us may I propose something?”
“Propose away,” said Danal with a slight grin.
“It is little to worry about Danal of the Avuzdel. Like you we were about to make camp and rest. I propose that we join you. I’ll admit I have an ulterior motive, my group are all tired, we have been travelling hard and we all need to rest and to sleep before we set out again. With your Lind here I can assign the numbers guarding us to a minimum.”
: We can watch and listen for them too : offered Asya to Danal : the man is right and we were working watch shifts anyway. Tell him yes :
“I have no objection,” said Danal.
Padrig smiled, “then I will call in my people. We can also provide food if you are hungry.”
“Cold trail rations?” asked Tala.
“Certainly not! Cold, yes, we dare not risk a fire so near to where the Larg are moving but trail rations no. What would you say if I was to offer you bread, still quite fresh, cold meat and cheeses?”
“I would say a most definite yes,” declared Tala, “and with heartfelt thanks.”
Padrig bestowed on her a tight smile and began issuing orders.
“Come sit down,” he said at last, “and we will talk.”
He settled himself on the sand.
A short while later, the promised food arrived and Danal, Tala and Philip tucked in.
“Aline, come over here,” ordered Padrig as they were finishing their meal.
Philip lifted his head and watched as a young woman detached herself from the group of nomads and began to walk towards them.
“Aline,” he called out in disbelief, “not Aline from the Island of Hallam?”
“Who wants to know?” growled Padrig.
“Aline, sister of Robain?”
The young woman nodded, wide-eyed.
Philip grinned at her. “I know him.”
“Robain? Robain is dead.”
“I can assure you that he is very much alive. I saw him only last month. We all did.”
“You know Robain?”
“I do and I know about his brothers Liam and Ansell. He often speaks of them.”
“Robain, Liam and Ansell are alive?” Aline looked as if she couldn’t believe what her ears were telling her. “Where is Robain?”
“We’re not sure, somewhere to the south of here I should think by now,” Danal said. “He was in Duchesne with Prince Elliot.”
Aline laughed. “A prince! Robain is keeping company with a prince? Pull the other why don’t you?”
“Robain is a Captain in the Garda,” continued Danal, ignoring her outburst. “He and Elliot came south with us, on the same ship.”
“So why are you here and not with them?” asked Padrig with suspicion. “What’s going on here? I warn you, I want the whole truth and none of you are going anywhere until I get it.”
“We have two different tasks to perform,” began Danal, choosing his words with care and making himself comfortable. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m in no hurry,” Padrig informed them.
* * * * *
“Where are these papers, this map?” asked Padrig when Danal’s tale had drawn to a close.
“In my pack.”
“Show me.”
Danal got slowly and stiffly to his feet and went over to where Asya sat guarding his bags. From the saddle pack he drew out the notes taken by Niaill from Peter Howard’s journal and the map.
Padrig took them and gave them a cursory once over, though his eyes lingered on the map. “Grainne?” he shouted and looked up at Danal. “Fantastic as it seems, I’m almost inclined to believe you. I can’t read this but Grainne can. We are escaped slaves as you will have guessed, even her, but she was a clever one and was taught.” He looked at Philip, “you got slaves?”
Padrig knew by now that Philip was a noble of Murdoch.
Philip shook his head. “My grandfather freed them before I was born and most of our land is held off the Dukes of Duchesne and Brentwood. My grandfather disliked the practice. I’ve never owned any slaves.”
“I’m glad you answered as you did,” said Padrig. “Slave-owners are not welcome here.”
Grainne ran up, a thin faced urchin of indefinable sex and eager, bright eyes.
“Go take this away and read it,” Padrig ordered. “Come back and tell me what it says.” He handed papers and map to Grainne.
As they were waiting more food and water was brought to Danal and the others. The nomads watched them eat.
Grainne came back, clutching Danal’s precious papers.
“They tell truth,” she announced in clarion tones. She bent down to where Padrig sat and spoke into his ear. Strain as he might, Danal couldn’t hear more than a snatched word here and there.
“What Grainne tells me is strange. Why are you looking for this power-core?”
“We are on a mission to find it. It is probably the most important artefact ever to be hidden during the history of the world or on any other world. The entire planet is in danger and might well be destroyed if we fail,” said Philip.
“That’s a bit steep.”
“It is true nevertheless.” Where to begin? “The kohorts are moving.”
“We know that already. We may only be runaway slaves but we do possess a modicum of intelligence,” said a sarcastic Padrig. “So the Larg are moving?” Padrig shrugged. “It has happened before. They will not bother us.”
“They will this time,” said Philip. “This time they are not alone. They have allies, creatures who are travelling on a spaceship to our planet. A few are here already. They have persuaded the Larg that if they help them c
onquer the planet when they leave the Larg will be left as our lord and masters, over the entire planet, north and south. That is why we must find the artefact, the power-core. With it we can destroy these creatures. Without it we are doomed.”
“That’s it in a nutshell,” agreed Danal.
“Why should I believe you?” asked Padrig.
“Because you must.”
“You hunt for the Electra,” said Padrig after a long moment, deciding what he should do. “We will help you. We can take you there.”
“It is where we live,” offered Grainne.
“It is both our home and resource,” added Padrig. “We charge a great deal for the pieces of metal that we can extract from it.”
“Where is it?” asked an eager Danal.
“Not far. Perhaps too we can do more. We know the desert. We even know where the crumbling metal object that must be the ‘ore-driller’ Grainne speaks of is. I might even have an idea of the likely location of this power-core, about half a days walk from it. I found traces of a very old campsite once, a couple of tent pegs and some strange rubbish, also large metal swirly objects with holes in the middle, all broken.”
“They were in a hurry,” Tala observed. “They wouldn’t have bothered tidying up. The sand would cover it over soon enough.”
“What the sand covers one day the wind blows away the next,” Padrig observed with a slight grin. “Now, we’ll take you to the Electra and then on to the ‘ore-driller’. But we want something in return.”
“Name it,” said Danal.
“A place to live in freedom,” answered Padrig.
Philip nodded, “you have my word.”
“And mine,” said Danal.
“Yours I will accept, Danal of Vadath,” said Padrig. “I know that those of the Vada do not lie. Also, Baron Ross stays behind with us in the Electra when my people take you into the desert.”
“As a hostage?”
“If you like,” answered Padrig. “I’ve learnt not to trust. I’ve realised that I’m likely to live longer that way. He stays with us and so does that Lind he rides.”
* * * * *