by Sharon Joss
“We are herd, Golden Boy, but you must leave us. You must go, now, and bring back the herd. Only the herd can save us from these longteeth.” He pictured an image of the herd moving across the steppes in his mind and hoped the traggah would understand.
The traggah let out a huge shuddering sigh, and shook himself. To his mind, the traggah seemed to give him a reproachful looks, as if to say, Now that we’re bonded, why are you sending me away?
“Go,” he said softly, and slapped the traggah on his hip for emphasis.
Golden Boy gave a snort and a little buck, then lowered his head and took off like a racehorse, making a wide berth past the dining longteeth. One of them made as if to rush him, but the traggah veered sharply, and was soon out of reach and out of sight.
Grimly, Renly reached into his bag and took out his stoutest chisel and slipped the tane into a burin handle. He took out two of his chasing hammers and handed one to K’Sati.
“What are you going to do?”
She stared him with a fevered gleam. She was bloody, filthy, and had horns like a youngling traggah. She wasn’t human, and nothing in this world or the next would make her so. Yet the sight of her roused something in him he could not explain, even to himself. He would not let those longteeth get to her; but if he tried to move the sled out from beneath the overhang, they would surely attack. And if he did not get K’Sati out of there, he doubted she would last another night. He had to protect her. There was no other option.
With his chisel in one hand, and his chasing hammer in the other, he turned to face the pack of longteeth. A sense of deliberate calm settled over him.
“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
CHAPTER 40
He faced a divided pack; two youngsters fed at Silverbeard’s carcass while the two adults finished off the remains of Neatfoot. He told himself he wouldn’t need to kill them all; the adults were the most dangerous. Each of them outweighed him by a couple of hundred pounds, and both possessed the six-inch fangs, which the smaller juveniles did not yet have.
He edged toward the two adults, keeping an eye on the youngsters, who were busy fighting over the remains of Silverbeard. The adults ignored him until he thought he couldn’t take another step.
The big female lunged at him, snarling.
She flew at him from less than ten feet away. He braced himself for the impact, his hammer raised.
As he anticipated, she leapt for his throat, just like they’d done to the traggahs.
He slammed down with the hammer with all his might, right between her eyes. Her momentum carried him to the ground, but she had no thought for him; she staggered away in a half circle before dropping to the ground.
Still on his hands and knees, the male came at him from the side. Both weapons flew from his hands with the beast’s impact. The longtooth ravaged his shoulder, straining to reach his neck. Renly got his arm up to protect himself, but creature overwhelmed him.
He reached for the burin in his belt, and in one swift motion stabbed the longtooth in the side. The chisel sliced through the ribs like butter and plunged deep into the brute’s chest cavity. With a yowl of pain and anger, the predator whirled to escape, tearing the still-embedded chisel from his hand.
Renly scrambled to his feet, his right arm nearly useless, and pulled the other burin from his belt. The injured longtooth rolled in the dirt, trying to dislodge the weapon; instead, he merely drove it deeper. Dark blood seeped out from around the deep wound, but Renly didn’t believe he’d inflicted a fatal injury. Slowly, he backed away from the big male.
Behind him, the younger longteeth had stopped their fighting to watch the big male struggle. The larger of the two darted forward, but as it leapt, Renly stepped to the side and stabbed it high in the shoulder. The cub yowled in pain and took off running, its tail between its legs. The other youngster took off as well, trailed by the wounded adult, with the chisel still firmly embedded between its ribs.
He fell to his knees, panting in the dust and blood as he watched the retreating longteeth. I hope he takes a really long time to die, Renly mused. He found his chisel and chasing hammer and wiped them clean, then shoved them back beneath his belt. Covered as he was, in blood and sweat and dirt, he felt invincible. Carefully, he slipped off his leather vest to inspect his mangled shoulder. Although the bruising was already starting, the thick craggon leather of the battle vest had protected him from even the longtooth’s bite. Other than a superficial gash on his upper arm, the skin wasn’t even broken.
Damn right.
He slipped the vest back on and hiked back up the slope to where K’Sati lay.
She gripped the hammer fiercely, her eyes streaming tears. He knelt beside her and she pulled him close with a strength that surprised him. “I thought you were dead,” she murmured.
He smoothed her hair. “I’m a little banged up, but I’m alive. Come on, love, let’s get you onto one of these sleds before they decide to come back.”
He strong-armed the largest sled out from beneath the cliff face and after a little experimentation, figured out how to operate it. He loaded it up with everything useful he could find; a full water skin, several packets of dried food, and enough traggah wool blankets to make K’Sati comfortable.
Her face was still pinched and pale, her skin hot and feverish. The sled would provide a smooth ride over most of the terrain, but even if they rode all night, he guessed it would be at two days or more before they reached civilization. K’Sati pointed him in a different direction from the one they’d come; she wanted to avoid the Temple of the Mother. He hoped the woodcarver, Okoro and his wife would be able to help them. He used tent stakes to stabilize her badly damaged leg, but knew it was only a temporary measure.
Getting her onto the sled was an agony for both of them. “Alright, love. Are you ready?
She nodded bravely. “Ready.”
He got her onto her feet. In spite of all his efforts, she screamed as he lowered her to the floor of the sled, then apologized for being so weak.
He got her settled made her comfortable as possible. She was trembling and far too pale when he finally took his seat behind the wheel of the sled.
“Here we go,” he called out.
CHAPTER 41
Wayne Strickland set down his pack to wipe the sweat from his face. Deep bite marks along one side of his face burned like fire to the slightest touch. Infected, probably. Not surprising. He was covered head to toe in mandragon blood and craggon feces. The stink didn’t bother him as much now as in the cave, but he couldn’t wait to get back to the sleds. The craggon shit he used to disguise his scent had dried and caked to his clothes. The heavy pack had worn sores into his shoulders, and they looked like a bloody pulp. They hurt like hell, but he only had a little further to go, and the gold would help him forget the pain.
Somehow, Renly Harkness and that infuriating bitch K'Sati had stolen the traggahs from him again. Without the traggahs to carry the gold, he’d been forced to rethink his plans for leaving this stinking planet. And walking out of the mountains on foot with ninety pounds of gold on his back would keep him from getting back to the coast in time to catch the last transport. He would be stuck here another four years. Ninety pounds of gold might be worth a lot of money to some people, but it wasn’t nearly enough to set him up in the new life he pictured for himself. No, he would have to come back for the rest of it. Maybe dig that golden boulder out, too.
Of course, he’d have to avoid Duprees and the rest of the Arkady folks, but after the Gold Festival, they’d all clear out and go back to the mines for two years, at least. He’d be safe enough in town. He would use the time to get the rest of the gold out and then lay low at the coast and take things easy until the next Festival.
He couldn’t wait to wash the stink off him in that spring they passed on the way in. With less than a mile to go until he reached the sleds, he finally believed he was going to get out of this mess, after all. He winced as he adjusted the weight of his
heavy pack and continued down the trail. His hands and fingernails were stained black from the filth of the cavern. He had never been so disgustingly dirty in his life, but he didn’t regret covering himself in craggon manure for one moment. The act had saved his life.
Not only had it saved him from meeting the same fate as Nevers and Lyle, he was certain the stink of craggon kept him safe from predators as he made his way out of the mountains. He walked all night, and never heard so much as a cracked twig.
In the end, only Garrett Harkness came close to beating him. The mandragon was smarter and stronger and than he ever imagined. Harkness came at him with one of the heavy crates filled with gold, and might have crushed him right there, if Wayne hadn’t already been moving in to stab him.
The knife went in just below the armpit, and punctured the creature’s lung. The wound slowed him down, but didn’t drop him. They went down together, the mandragon snapping at his face, as Wayne kept right on stabbing him in the chest and neck. Finally he nicked an artery, and figured the mandragon would bleed to death, but the nightmarish thing refused to die.
It bit him on the jaw and held on, grinding his pointed teeth deep into the flesh. Wayne twisted and struggled to free himself, but his attacker was heavier and stronger. Only when Wayne finally managed to slit his throat and halfway sever his fool neck that the monster collapsed.
He found Nevers and Lyle’s bodies in the craggon’s cavern. Nevers died of a gunshot in the back. Lyle apparently killed the craggon with a shot to the eye, but was crushed beneath it as it died. He found his gun and grabbed Nevers pack, filling it with as much gold as he could carry. He dragged the other crates of gold outside the cavern and buried them beneath a pile of rocks, not far from Corey’s remains.
Corey deserved everything he got, but the fact that K’Sati and Harkness had taken off with the traggahs burned his hide. A couple of thieves, the both of them. Every step he took down the trail was another strike against them. They would pay for this. Even one traggah could have gotten him out with enough gold for his needs. He cursed the both of them with every step; promising to make them beg him for death if he ever caught up with them.
K’Sati, in particular fooled him completely. She’d seduced him; persuaded him everyone else at Arkady Mining into thinking Golden Boy was a sure thing, then stole the traggah and left him behind to take the blame for it. He wondered how long she’d planned it. She must have been stringing him along for weeks.
He recognized the final curve in the trail leading to the cliff face to where they had stowed the sleds. As he rounded the curve, the smell of blood stopped him. Wayne froze in his tracks, unable to believe the scene before him. The clearing looked like a war zone; the dirt was churned up and clotted dark with blood and animal carcasses, but that wasn’t what riveted his attention.
Renly Harkness sat in the driver’s seat of Wayne’s personal sled, with K’Sati seated like a queen behind him.
Wayne dropped his pack and drew his gun. He had a clear shot at either one of them, but Renly’s chest presented a better target.
He fired.
The Terran twisted out of his seat and crumpled into the dirt beside the sled.
CHAPTER 42
Renly coughed and opened his eyes. Something in the palm of his hand burned like fire. He dropped it.
A bullet.
The stink of craggon washed over him and he glanced up to see a wild man covered in blood and filth trying to drag K’Sati out of the sled. The terror in her face fired his anger. He got to his feet and pulled the burin from his belt. Something about the wild man looked familiar.
K’Sati screamed in agony and fear. “Wayne, no!”
That guy just shot me!
Adrenaline pounded through him. He grabbed Wayne by his shirt and jerked him off K’Sati. Wayne went for the gun at his hip.
Renly acted without thinking. He drove his chisel through the larger man’s chest. Wayne gave a little hiccup. His eyes glazed over and he crumpled motionless to the ground.
K’Sati reached for him, and he went to her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but her expression was full of pain. “Are you? I saw him shoot you.”
He rubbed his chest. “He did. Good thing this vest is craggon hide. That’s twice today it saved me. Three times, if you count keeping me from freezing to death.”
“Oh, look!” He followed her gaze as she a pointed at a dust cloud rolling over the prairie toward them. “We’ve got company.”
He reached out with his gift and sensed Golden Boy’s brave spirit racing toward him. “It’s Golden Boy. He’s bringing the herd.” He gazed into her green-brown eyes. “What say we fire up the sled and ride out to meet them?”
EPILOG
The unveiling of the new Seal of Khirjah was held in the walled garden of the royal residence of His Royal Highness, King Okanga Hakaroah. It was the start of Renly’s second summer in Aurum, and the twin suns Oratei and Ahipu gleamed brightly overhead amidst cloudless lavender skies. A trio of musicians played native Khirjahni folk tunes on hand-carved stonewood pipes, while the guests mingled with members of the Royal family.
Ambassador Reinhardt was in attendance of course, as well as several senior officers from the Universal Consortium of Planets. The UCP had recently declared the Arkady Universal Mining embargo around Aurum illegal, and the officers were here to redefine access and landing policies for Aurum with the Khirjahnis and Th’Dorrans. As far as Renly could tell, no one from Arkady had been invited to the celebration.
The intoxicating scent of Ungah lilies perfumed the air, and Renly inhaled deeply, savoring their delicate fragrance.
K’Sati gave him a playful nudge. “Stop sniffing my hair. You’ll bruise the flowers.”
A wreath of the cream-colored flowers encircled her head and horns like a halo, complimenting her lovely olive skin. She wore a simple, traditional Khirjahni mohko, woven of pale traggah wool, cinched at her narrow waist with a shell-trimmed belt. At her neck, she wore the small platinum locket he's given her; inside an engraved portrait of Neatfoot. She strolled easily at his side with no trace of limp.
The waiter brought around a tray of sparkling Lhossa wine and they each took a glass. The taste of the tangy berries reminded him of how much they’d been though.
A beaming Ambassador Reinhardt approached them. “Congratulations, Renly. Everyone loves the new seal. The King tells me he is well pleased.”
The new seal depicted a mother traggah and her youngling standing on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Beside them, an aboriginal Khirjahni herder rested his hand on the mare’s shoulder, as they watched the twin suns of Aurum rise above the horizon, and sea creatures frolicked in the surf.
“And on a personal note, I must say, it’s enough to make me forget the stink of this place. Well done.”
Renly made a small bow. He’d never done an animal portrait before, or much in the way of nature, for that matter. The etching he did of Neatfoot for K’Sati had given him the idea. He used the sketches he’d done of Silverbeard’s mother and youngling as his models for the traggahs, and based his drawing of the herdsman on the woodcarver Okoro. He fretted for months after completing the design; worried that the King would not like it. K’Sati and Okoro both told him the Khirjahni people revered artisans as blessed by the gods, but he did not want to have his art viewed as merely an off-worlder tribute; he wanted his art to capture the heart and soul of the Khirjahni.
At the private unveiling for the royal family the previous week, several members of the royal family had been moved to tears. Okanga proclaimed him as an official citizen of Aurum and offered to sponsor him as the royal engraver. It meant a freestanding cottage in the capital, and a stipend big enough to support both his and K’Sati’s modest needs.
“With the embargo lifted, I imagine you’ll be heading back to Terra soon?”
Everyone else he’d met on Aurum seemed to be asking him the same question. Now that the embargo was lifted, there was nothing
to keep him from returning to his studio on Earth.
K’Sati, too, had asked him the same thing. She reached up and smoothed a stray lock of hair behind the nub of his horns. He kept trying to tell her they weren’t really nubs anymore. They were starting to curve backwards now. She was the only one who knew he’d already made his decision.
“There’s still a question about my genetic stability, and whether Terra will accept genetically altered humans, but I’m not worried. I’ve got several commissions lined up, and His Highness has mentioned a project he wants to talk to me about. Besides,” he gave K’Sati the smile she knew was just for her. “The place is growing on me.”
END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning author Sharon Joss writes science fiction, fantasy and horror. She is the author of six novels, including the Aurum, Brothers of the Fang, and the supernatural alternate history thriller, Steam Dogs. In 2015, she won the Writers of the Future Golden Pen award for speculative fiction with her novella, Stars That Make Dark Heaven Light. She lives amid a thicket of blackberry vines in Oregon and writes full-time. Find out more about her and her books by going to www.sharonjoss.com
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