Chapter Eleven
I don’t know how long I will survive now that Vart has gone. I can’t feed myself by hunting, and I have no skills that I could offer in exchange for food or shelter. On top of that someone very powerful would like me dead.
Unless Blaith lets me stay with him and his men, I’ve had it. The trouble is, he’ll expect something in return, and knowing him, he’ll exploit the situation for every drop he can squeeze. I’ll be doing stuff for him for the rest of my life. I’ll probably finish up like the dog-man – if I live long enough. Having Blaith for protection will be like being a goldfish in the care of a mad moggy with a harpoon gun.
There is one good thing about Blaith though, and that is he’s greedy, power hungry and predictable. OK that’s three things, but you know what I mean. His greed and self interest make him easier to anticipate. He thinks anything that increases his power is good, and nothing matters more than that. The trouble is, getting him to do anything for you is a bit like training a vicious dog, it works fine so long as you can keep offering rewards and don’t mind losing a few fingers.
Since he saw what he thinks was me zapping Vart and the dog-man, he expects me to share my amazing powers with him. I bet he already has a hit list of potential zappees. No prizes for guessing who will be top of his list, big brother, Serren.
Now Serren is a quite different sort of problem. He is more difficult to read than a sphinx's wink. I don’t think anyone could ever have a hold over him, certainly not me. For one thing, I’m sure he doesn’t believe it was my power that zapped Vart and the dog-man. I think he knows that I’m trying to fool him. And if anyone should know about fooling people, he should. He’s a master of so called magic. If he lived in the twenty-first century he’d be a cabaret hypnotist or something. You know, on stage making drunks think they're being eaten by their trousers. That inbuilt scepticism of his comes from years of telling people religious nonsense and making them believe it. If I get in his way, he’ll have me vanished faster than a centrefold in a locker inspection. He can’t afford to risk having anyone around who might undermine his authority.
Frankly, between the two of them, I’m stuffed. When I go about the city and I see Serren, he glares at me like he wants to kebab my eyeballs. And now Blaith has got people following me like the FBI or something.
I’ve taken to getting away from the city as much as I can. I like to walk the trails I used to do with Vart, and I’m trying to learn the stuff he knew. It’s safer if I keep away from the city, especially as Serren’s hostility seems to be spreading to the ordinary people too. Yesterday some women threw stones and rubbish at me. Serren was watching, but did nothing. And that’s not the first time. Someone took a shot at me down near the river. They missed. I kept the arrow as a souvenir. I’ll give it back when I find out whose it is. They’ll certainly get the point (sorry), but I bet Serren wasn’t very far away at the time.
I was followed everywhere. I had clearly seen three men, but whether they were Serren's fanatical warrior monks or Blaith's men, I was not sure. I gave them a wave, as a sort of insult. They pretended not to see me. Whoever they were, I decided to lose them and so I strolled casually to the edge of the bear place clearing and suddenly dived into the scrubby woods. I ran for about half a mile, ripping through the hazels and scrub on a narrow deer path. I could hear them following. After a while, I turned off the track and headed towards the river, picking my way through the thickest undergrowth. Half way down the valley, I stopped and waited, hoping to see my pursuers go chasing past. They didn’t appear. Instead I saw a group of raiders from another tribe creeping into the river bend people’s territory. They were as quiet as clouds and armed to the teeth. Inter-tribal raids are quite frequent and always deadly.
I was trapped. If the raiders saw me I’d be killed or taken hostage – and who would bother to pay a ransom for me? But if I didn’t warn the men following me they would be ambushed and slaughtered. The only thing I could think of to do was to make sure everybody, on both sides, knew where I was. If I ran noisily towards the river Blaith’s men would head after me drawing them away from the raiders. With any luck the raiders would run off thinking they were outnumbered.
I set off yelling and whooping. As expected Blaith’s men spotted me and followed. The raiders saw me too but did not run off. They must have seen that they outnumbered Blaith's men and so came charging after us all. I swam across the river and watched helplessly as the raiders butchered two of Blaith’s men and dragged the third away. Four men waded across the river after me.
The water level reached their waists. I'd learned that few men could swim, and I watched, hoping they would find it too deep and give up. They kept coming. Even when the water reached their armpits they kept coming. I hurled rocks at them, and managed to hit one. He floated away thrashing and spluttering. I saw him sink beneath the fast flow. He didn’t resurface. The remaining three were closer now. I kept hurling rocks and caught them several times, but still they kept coming. As they reached shallower water they presented bigger targets and because they were closer I could use larger rocks. I gave one man a solid crack on his head with a large stone. He backed away groggily but his two comrades kept coming. I had my boar spear, short and solid, but they would have to be closer before I could use it. I threw more rocks and prepared to engage them with my spear. The wounded man lost his footing and the strong current pulled him away. Breathless and shivering, the last two scrambled up the muddy riverbank. I took stance ready to fight for my life. Seeing them tired and cold, I knew I must act quickly before they rested. I lunged at the nearest. He jinked aside but stopped and gaped. He looked absolutely terrified - his comrade too. Both started backing towards the river. I was amazed how well I had done. I threw a few more stones at them and jeered triumphantly, proud of my amazing victory.
Once I was sure they had gone for good I turned from the river to set off for Vart’s old camp near the fallen tree, but stopped dead in my tracks. Staring at me from a few steps away was a bull aurochs. No wonder the raiders had run off. It was not me they were scared of. The great beast glared at me and snorted. It swung its massive head, its horns thrashing the overhanging trees, scattering broken branches like chaff.
All sense left me. I was facing a beast of mythical proportions. Its great shoulders were higher than my head. I could hear its breathing and feel its hot breath. It bellowed at me, snorting skeins of glistening snot. The sound shook my bones. A few meters behind it, its harem of females grazed, indifferent to my fate. One had a calf bigger than a full grown Jersey cow. I started backing away. The beast watched me smugly, well aware it had me trapped against the river. I’m sure he knew I was sunk. My feet were in the water. The huge beast stepped forward and thrashed its head about in a cloud of steam, as if to show me again the power of his massive horns. I back-dived into the water and swam like crazy. The beast bellowed, the sound echoing around the forest. I kicked with the flow and let it carry me to safety.
Time Rocks Page 35