The Mask of Tamirella

by Dana Davis

  Cait followed Ian’s gaze to a nearby tree. A man, holding a bow and wearing a quiver of arrows on his back, nodded to the warrior. Ian nodded back and the stranger held up his hand in an offering of truce. His elbow bent the wrong way. A mutant. He gazed wide-eyed at Marjordan for an instant then turned and ran across a fallen tree that extended over a narrow section of the lake. He continued toward the forests in the distance and was soon out of sight.

  Ian turned toward the others. “Everyone all right? Cait?”

  Caitlanna nodded and suddenly her arms could no longer hold the weight of her sword. The weapon pulled at her body as it tipped to the ground in front of her.

  “We’re fine.” Marjordan took Cait’s sword and laid in on the ground next to her own. She forced Cait to sit then made her way to Paulucas.

  Jen was already inspecting his leg and moved out of the healer’s way. Cait watched the exchanges through a fog as she took in what had just happened.

  “You need stitches,” Marjordan said to Paul. She turned to Ian. “Let me see your hand.”

  He obediently held his arm out for her to inspect but his gaze lingered on the woman he had just fought.

  “Most of this blood came from someone else,” the healer informed him. “You’re just scratched up a bit. I’ll clean you up after I’m through with Paul.” She took Paulucas by the arm and led him to the tent with Whit’s assistance.

  Cait’s senses began to return but she felt numb.

  “Who were they?” Natjulie said through tears, and Cait turned to her. The pale girl sat on the ground, leaning against Sam. His arm rested on her shoulders and he smoothed her hair. Both looked as shocked as Cait felt.

  “I’m not sure,” Ian said, hesitantly. “Probably raiders.”

  Though he didn’t offer anything else, Caitlanna suspected that he knew more and she studied him.

  “I’m getting water for the healer,” Jenellen said to the warrior. “Why don’t you and Quin prepare a burial for them.” She nodded toward the bodies.

  “Yes.” Ian motioned Quinpatrik to follow and the two dragged the bodies behind some boulders, out of sight from the camp.

  Queasiness rose as Cait stared at the bloodied ground not far from where she sat. Tales of battles had always been told in her sub-sanction but she’d never witnessed one. Playful bantering, yes. But she’d never seen anyone killed before. Digs with her father had always taken place in their own mountains where warriors guarded, keeping intruders at bay. Though that was rarely necessary, since each sanction had plenty of their own sites to explore. Suddenly, she tasted bile. She scrambled to her feet and bolted into some nearby bushes just as her stomach lurched.

  “Cait,” Jen said, as she made her way from the lake with a full bucket. “Go to the healer’s tent when you’re done.”

  “Yes, Finder.” She vomited again and spit then stood after her stomach was empty.

  After a moment, she headed toward her primary, careful not to look at the bloodied ground. She felt foolish, embarrassed that she’d gotten ill. Even Natjulie had her stomach under control. Cait kept her face from the other girl as she passed. When she reached the tent area, she sat on a stool just outside. Her primary was still sewing up Paul’s leg and she had no desire to watch.

  Jen she stepped from the tent with herbs and a cup. “Marjordan asked me to fix you some gingertea.”

  Cait nodded but kept her eyes on a tiny weed at her feet.

  “I’ll be back.” The finder headed to the fire and soon returned with a cup of steaming liquid. “Here, drink this.” She gave the cup to Cait then stepped into the tent of blankets.

  The hot cup felt soothing, despite the day’s heat, and she sipped. Soon she felt better but preferred to nudge the weed with the toe of one boot than look at anyone. Someone crouched beside her but she kept eyes on the weed.

  “You weren’t injured, were you?” There was a hint of panic in Quin’s speech.

  “No.” She glanced briefly at his face. “I’ll be fine.”

  He squeezed her arm. “I’ll check on Sam and Nat.”

  She watched him walk toward the fire. His sword bounced slightly against his back as he stepped. Part of her wanted to race after him and burrow her head into his shoulder and cry, like she’d done when they were children.

  “Be careful with that leg, Warrior,” Marjordan said from behind the tent blankets. “I don’t want you to break those stitches.”

  “Yes, Healer,” Paul answered. He winked at Cait as he stepped out. She forced a smile. Then, accompanied by Whit, he limped to the fire.

  Marjordan pulled up a stool and sat. She brushed hairs from Cait’s sweaty face then gently pushed the cup up to her lips. “Drink some more.” She obeyed and sipped at the gingertea again. “Ian,” Marjordan said when the man returned from the nearby trees. “Let me clean that hand before it gets infected.”

  “Yes, Healer.” The man followed her into the tent, and Cait listened to their conversation.

  “Did you take care of the bodies?” Marjordan said in a low voice.

  “All but one. I think you’ll want to take a look before we complete the burial.”

  “What is it?” Marjordan sounded concerned.

  “The woman wore this.”

  There was silence for a moment and Cait strained her ears.

  “Thank you, Ian.”

  “Do you want me to bury it?”

  “No.”

  The two were silent for a while.

  “You’re finished,” Marjordan finally said. “Try to keep that hand clean.”

  “Yes, Healer.”

  Ian stepped from the tent. Something in his eyes appeared sorrowful but he gave Cait a tiny smile.

  Marjordan followed him out. “I’ll be right back, Cait.” She followed him toward the boulders where the bodies had been taken.

  After a few moments, Ian walked to the fire. Marjordan returned to the tent and sat. Her eyes were slightly red from crying.

  Cait knew better than to ask what Ian had found. Marjordan would tell her eventually. At least, she hoped. She forced that question from her mind and focused on a generic one. “Anything wrong, P-Marj?” She was concerned for her primary. Marjordan was a hard woman, a stoic healer like most, and Cait had known her for sixteen years. Something had upset her. Something important and tragic and it had to do with that warrior woman. What did Ianandy find?

  “Don’t you worry about me.” Marjordan gave her a look that told her to dismiss the subject.

  “Healer?” Jen trotted toward them. “I think you should check Nat. She’s very upset.”

  “I’ll go to her.” She placed a brief hand on Cait’s shoulder. “I’ll be back to check on you. Stay with her, Finder.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jenellen sat.

  Cait looked toward the fire. Guilt flooded her for thinking that she needed to keep her face from Nat. The girl was obviously just as sickened by the battle. She watched as Marjordan helped the sobbing girl to her feet and guided her toward the tent.

  “Jen?” the healer said as she passed. “Could I bother you for another cup of hot water?”

  “Of course.” Jenellen leaned close to Caitlanna. “You going to be all right for a minute?”

  “Yes. P-Marj needs you.”

  The finder headed to the fire. Cait drank the rest of her gingertea and sat taking in the hot air of the day, while the two women cared for Nat. Jen came out first and crossed to the fire. Cait had no idea how much time had passed when Marjordan finally stepped from the tent again, but Natjulie had stopped crying. The healer stretched, rubbing at her back. She watched her primary a moment with concern.

  Marjordan smiled wearily. “How’re you doing?”

  “Better. Thanks.” She indicated to her now empty cup. “How’s Nat?”

  “She’ll be fine. I gave her a sedative drink.”

  She nodded as her primary sat. Her mind drifted back to the fight. “P-Marj, why did that mutant help us?”

  “I don’t kn
ow the answer to that,” the woman said flatly.

  Jenellen trotted to them. “Sam’s fine. The others are keeping him company but he wants to know how Nat is.”

  Marjordan stood. “She’ll recover. She’ll sleep for a while, though.” The healer gazed briefly down at Cait. “Why don’t you sit by the fire?” Her eyes studied the sky for a moment. “It’s past time for noonmeal.”

  “Paul and Quin are taking care of the food,” Jen told her. “Ian said he and Warrior Whit would scout the perimeter for the remainder of the day. Tonight we’ll have two people on watch.” She gave a troubled look to the tent.

  The finder was probably thinking about the next shift. Cait felt stronger now and stood, placing her empty cup on the stool. “I want to take Nat’s shift.” The least she could do was to help keep the dig going. After all, that’s why they were here. And now they had more people disabled.

  Marjordan started to protest.

  “I could use her,” Jen said. “With Sam and Paul injured and now Nat’s condition, Quin and I can really use the help.”

  Marjordan studied the finder a moment before turning to Caitlanna. “You feel strong enough?”

  “Yes, P-Marj. I just had the queazies. I feel fine now and I want to work.” She glanced at the blood-stained ground for the first time since she’d been ill. “I think it’s important we keep digging.”

  Her primary cocked her head slightly then nodded. “Everyone’s going to recover and, since you weren’t injured, I suppose you should keep busy.”

  Caitlanna’s heart leapt. She’d convinced Marjordan to let her take extra shifts, something she knew to be extremely difficult. She grinned foolishly at her primary.

  Marjordan chuckled. “Don’t get used working long hours, Striker,” she said in mock severity.

  “Thank you, P-Marj.”

  “You’re welcome, girl. Now get to the fire before I change my mind.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She sprinted away, stifling a giggle. Despite all that had happened, this day was taking a positive turn. Her next undertaking was to find out about the attackers and the mutant. Ianandy knew more than he revealed, she was certain of that.

  Chapter 13

  The Copper Sphere

  The day was pleasant as winds kicked up in the east, bringing cooler breezes from the lake. Caitlanna had completed her sixth week on the dig the previous day, and her training with Ian went well. She used her father’s sword with more confidence and accuracy, yet she hoped never to need the weapon. Sam and Paul’s injuries had healed and both worked eagerly. Just a day or so after the tragic fight, Nat recovered. She was quiet sometimes and had occasional nightmares, but Marjordan kept a keen eye on her.

  The cooler weather seemed to give the group energy but there were still dangers. Dagbeasts came near the camp recently so they were still handling watches in twos. No other raids had caused a work delay, but there’d been a minor setback when part of a wall dropped dirt and debris in the cave’s east side. Luckily, the ancient room was on the other side and was unaffected. Despite their luck, they had to be careful, taking extra precautions in the tunnel and dig areas.

  Cait scratched at her dusty arm as she studied a new find. This box was made of wood, not metal like the coin container she’d discovered weeks ago, and part of it had decayed from moisture in the soil. The cave seemed to be dry now, but Jenellen suspected an ancient leak that had long sealed itself with numerous cave-ins. Quin and Paulucas had found evidence to support the other finder’s leak theory as they cleared out the treasures from the ancient room, and they hoped it hadn’t damaged too many artifacts.

  “We’re nearly through here, Cait.” Quin was covered in dust, as he’d been digging in the wall, searching hideaways and niches the ancients were famous for creating. “I think we’ve extricated just about everything that’ll bring profit. You’ve done well.”

  Cait beamed at the man’s praise and felt the heat rise in her face. “Thank you, Finder,” she managed, as she pushed back her intimate feelings for him. She carefully brushed the dirt from around the decaying box. With a cloth around the find, she lifted it from its long resting place. The box was much heavier than it looked, and her arm muscles tightened as she carried it close to her body and placed it on a nearby stool.

  Quinpatrik brought a lamp to her and squatted to pick through the artifact. As he manipulated the metal latch, the entire front fell away, revealing a stack of clay tablets, each about the size of his hand. The finder carefully picked up the top one and studied it a moment before handing it over to Cait.

  She took the tablet with gentle hands and felt engravings on both sides. It had obviously been fired or wouldn’t have lasted the years. “There’s writing on this,” she said as she studied the carvings. A few symbols were familiar and she could read them, but most looked archaic. She couldn’t help the grin that formed on her lips. What a find. They’d been so lucky with this cave.

  “I think it’s from the Transitional Period. Let’s get these outside.”

  They wrapped the tablets in ragcloth and placed them in a straw-lined box for transport. The finder took the artifacts and Cait brought out the lamps. Her hands trembled with excitement and she hoped they would be able to translate the tablets.

  “Jen! Paul! Everyone!” Quin called as he arrived at the cave entrance.

  Caitlanna felt just as thrilled as he sounded. The group gathered around the fire. Jen and Paul looked over the tablets then passed them carefully for each person to inspect. After a few moments, there was a murmur of excited voices, and Cait had trouble making out everyone’s words.

  “Hold it. Hold it,” Jenellen said with upraised arms. “I think we can each tell these tablets were written during the Transitional Period. With all of us working to decipher them, we could be finished in a few weeks, but we need to stay organized. Quin, does your sub-sanction have a Transitional Alphabet Decoder? I’m afraid M25 never bought one. And the Elders probably didn’t think we’d find anything like this out here.”

  “No. M3 can’t afford a TAD just yet.” Quin gave her an apologetic look.

  “Paul?” The woman turned to Natjulie’s brother.

  “Actually—“ Paulucas’s lips spread into a wide grin. He’d been in a festive mood lately, and Cait suspected it had something to do with Whithelen.

  “M37 has one?”

  “Better.”

  “You brought one?” The woman’s eyes widened with surprise.

  “I come prepared, Finder. You should know that by now. We’ve been working together nearly three months.”

  Jenellen grinned and showed him a dirty fist. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I’m sure,” Nat piped, “he promised our sub-sanction that he’d only reveal the TAD if we needed it.” While her brother now displayed playfulness, she had lost most of hers. She sat near Samcoty when not on shift and didn’t make small talk in the cave much. “I can read some of this.”

  “Yes,” Jen told her. “But most of the words need a decoder.” She gazed expectantly at Paulucas.

  “I guess that means you’d like me to bring my TAD to the fire.” He chuckled and made his way to his pack.

  Whit followed him with her eyes until he returned. He touched her arm in passing and winked. She smiled briefly and nodded.

  Cait wondered at their subtle gestures and quickly averted her eyes when Whithelen glanced at her. She stepped to Paul to observe the decoder. Her father had told her of such devices but they were very expensive. A sub-sanction needed an abundance of trade goods to buy one. And the Elders, who’d created them for locating more artifacts through rare tablet information, were very protective of the devices, keeping track of which sub-sanctions had made a purchase.

  Paulucas opened a leather bag and pulled out a metal divided sphere with letters and symbols carved into it. The TAD glistened in the sunlight with the same copper coloring of the ancient coins they’d recovered a few weeks ago, and Cait knew the device had been made from melt
ed artifacts. Paul looked over one of the tablets and studied the decoder in his hand. Then he twisted it, turning two of the separated parts to align the correct letter with its appropriate symbol. He repeated the same process on two other sections of the sphere.

  “These are mostly written in younger transitional languages.” He indicated the tablets. “Shouldn’t take long to decipher the newer wordings. Some of the words are older, though, archaic. That’ll require more study.” He ran a finger along the carvings in one of the tablets. “Whoever wrote these wasn’t very skilled. Some of the letters are shaky. Done by a weak hand. Perhaps an ill or elderly person.” He glanced at his sister and the other strikers. “I think we should take turns when not digging.”

  “I agree.” Jenellen gazed hungrily at the TAD. “Be good experience for all of us, especially our young strikers.”

  Cait’s heart raced at their words. Despite earlier misgivings about such a chore, she wanted to take part in deciphering these tablets and was appreciative of the finders’ generous offer. Many full-growns would simply hide out in a tent somewhere and do the job themselves.

  “Well,” Jen added. “Since you have the TAD, Paul, you should have first crack at the writing.”

  He grinned. After a moment, he raised a brow at the others. His cropped hair had grown a bit and now reached just above his ears. Taut and well-defined muscles stood out beneath that tanned skin and Cait saw Whit eyeing him in appreciation. “I don’t plan to work with an audience. I’ll show you strikers how to use this before your shifts.”

  Caitlanna wanted to stay and learn about the TAD now, despite his request, but her primary wouldn’t have it.

  Marjordan pulled her firmly from the fire and pushed a dull metal pot into her hands. “Get some water for noonmeal. We’re already behind schedule today.”