Sowing Dragon Teeth

by James Alderdice

  Menkares and half of Xargon’s cavalier men joined in another reckless attack, driven mad by lack of water. They had already slain their horses and camels for liquid. This assault failed, leaving fourteen more men dead.

  Desperate measures call for desperate actions. Xargon walked to within earshot of the tower and addressed Catlo. “Catlo of Avaris, we are at an impasse. We need water and to continue on with our sworn missions and you must needs be on your way as well. We know of your plans for the Dragon’s Graveyard but the mighty sultan Sulieman is making his own way toward this Jokameno Mountain even now. We know you must have a map of the secret entrance and we will take it from you in due course. But if you will surrender the map to me, I will let you live. I can think of no better end to this conflict.”

  Aisha glanced through the cracks in the barricade and back at the sleeping Catlo. She signaled Ole to watch him and that she would speak. Ole nodded his approval.

  Aisha answered, “I am master of this tower and Catlo is but my guest. You will direct your parlay to me.”

  Catlo, awakened from his dulled stupor, sat forward, ready to respond with his usual vigor and venom, but Ole stilled him, saying, “Wait. Listen.”

  Catlo reluctantly hushed and let the others speak.

  Surprised at this development, Xargon responded, “You are the one who freed the princess, Diamanda? I thank you, but still, you must comply with my demands.”

  Catlo’s eyes almost bugged out of his sockets at that revelation, but Ole put his iron-like grip upon him, stilling him while the others spoke.

  Aisha glanced at the infuriated Catlo and the surprised Musa and Nyo, saying, “That is true, but is not pertinent to our parlay here and now.”

  Xargon coughed. “Very well, if you are master of the tower I will extend my bargain to you. Fill your water-skins with as much as you may, get upon your horses and depart. We will retire beyond the dunes to the north and not molest you in your flight. You may watch us from the top of the tower and see that we shall not be able to strike you as you exit. I will allow you to return to your homes in the north and I will not pursue you, if you go that way. But you will give the map to me.”

  “No,” Aisha proclaimed. “You are running out of water. We can wait here a day, maybe two or three more days and still get ahead of your Kathulian lapdog commander of a sultan. We have time… you do not.” Aisha paused to let that sink in. “You must offer a better bargain, or we will leave your dry bones to rot in this waste. And you will still get no map.”

  Xargon cursed under his breath. He looked at his own men, who were indeed nearly completely empty of their rationed water. Some had already begun to collect their own urine. More than three quarters of his command were already dead, and most of their horses were bleaching upon the sands of the desert floor. “You have cut me to the quick. You hold all the cards, I have none. What are your demands?”

  Catlo’s eyes narrowed and he slunk back against the wall. “I had not thought to ever be on speaking terms with the captain of the Kathulian cavaliers, let alone have them conceding defeat,” he said with a grim smile.

  Aisha beckoned Xargon and Menkares closer. “You say you are men of your word?”

  “Yes, if we swear to go beyond the dunes, we will, and you may leave unhindered.”

  “That is not good enough. I would have you swear to leave the service of Kathul and the dark prophet and be your own men forthwith. Swear it upon your very lives. All of you except the one called Menkares, him I will slay to seal the pact.”

  Xargon protested, “Speaking for myself, I can end my service temporarily as a matter of pilgrimage, but I can’t allow my men to be sacrificed.”

  Aisha answered, “I said nothing of sacrifice. Him, I will duel and then we shall have satisfaction. As long as you cease in this pursuit of me and my men.”

  “My men?” muttered Catlo, under his breath.

  Menkares grinned at the challenge. “I agree! Swear to anything you will, but I will slay this she-demon. I have never been beaten in a duel.”

  “Then draw your sword,” Aisha challenged.

  Menkares looked to Xargon who nodded, as well as to the remaining cavaliers. The cavaliers stripped the sigils of Sulieman from their armor and trod the banner of the white peacock into the sands.

  Aisha knew this was but a temporary measure, but she didn’t want to remain in the tower any longer and if these men were no longer a part of the equation for even another week, that could be long enough.

  “We swear to observe your direction even unto our deaths for at least as long as a pilgrimage may take… but give us water,” said Xargon.

  All but Menkares knelt upon one knee and bent their heads awaiting acceptance of their oath.

  Aisha tore open a crack of the barricade and stepped outside to face them. Ole and Musa appeared behind with pitchers of water which they bestowed upon the kneeling men. They drank greedily and thanked them forever more.

  Aisha and Menkares faced one another.

  The dark man said, “Tell me woman, you demand my death while you have caused this?” He towered over her by a head, his corded thews stretching as he swung his scimitar.

  “I know that blood is needed to seal the oaths of Kathulians, even for this temporary respite. I saw you slaying your wounded brothers and heard your name as they begged for mercy. Yours is a life I can claim in good conscience,” said Aisha.

  Their blades sang the song of death and twice they cut one another. The dark giant hammered quick hard blows down upon Aisha who would dance away as the other blade came to disembowel her.

  They broke apart, breathing hard in their exertions. Menkares was a more formidable foe than she had initially anticipated, but she lived a life of few regrets.

  Again the clash came brutal and swift. All were unsure who could survive the devastating strokes and jabs.

  Menkares kicked sand at Aisha’s face and faked several parries. Each time, Aisha evaded his ruse. “You cannot beat me, Iron Maiden!” he shouted in a fury, bloody spittle flying from his lips.

  “It is your fate to die here,” said Aisha.

  Their blades locked and he pushed, but despite being much larger, her incredible strength held out and she pushed him back.

  The men watching marveled at the supernatural power on display. They murmured that she indeed must be favored of the gods.

  He screamed, but she remained calm.

  She pressed a sudden attack, parried and swung Menkare’s scimitar up and out of the way, then buried her dagger in the big man’s breast, twisting and ripping it out.

  Menkares dropped into the sand, his breath departing on the desert wind like an invisible Djinn.

  Silence hung in the air. Musa and Nyo led the horses out of the tower, their waterskins full and sweating. They picked up the dry corpse of Zahur and put it back upon its mule.

  “You will leave us be, if you want to live,” said Aisha as she and the others rode away.

  She looked over her shoulder at Xargon and wondered. The Kathulians swarmed inside the tower to get to the precious water. Could they keep their word to mere bandits that they had so recently hunted? Time would tell.

  13. Ride the River

  Out beyond the borders of the tower, Catlo finally said, “Your men, huh?”

  “Let it go,” Aisha snapped. “You were drunk, I took care of it.”

  “But you said that we were your men,” he slurred.

  “Let it go, Catlo,” Ole insisted.

  Catlo continued, “Argh. I just want everyone to know that this is still my band. I’m in charge.”

  Aisha shook her head.

  “And you let my princess go,” he chided.

  “Why did we even have her? We travel faster without her and as far as being a hostage? We got nothing for her but trouble.”

  “They would have eventually paid, or have been forced into accepting me,” he said with a bitter snarl.

  Aisha swung in the saddle. “Accepting you? What are
you talking about?”

  Ole shook his head vigorously, but she could not contain her curiosity and the slightly drunk Catlo could not hold his thoughts or tongue.

  “If I could have married her and gained the riches that we will get from the Dragon’s Graveyard, then they would have had to accept me as a nobleman. I could retire to Avaris or Irem or Kathul and become a prince. I deserve to be a prince. I have worked hard all my life to gain these riches and honors—and someday I shall have them!” he declared.

  Aisha tried to imagine him as a prince, festooned in white silk and tyrian velvet with curling toed slippers and fingers covered in gems. He certainly looked near enough to those haughty types she had robbed before. Who was to say? She almost forgot for a moment how much she hated him.

  “Now I shall have to find another princess to woo and marry, so that I may be invited in amongst the nobility where I belong.”

  “Why do you belong there?”

  “I deserve it!” he snapped. “Because I want it more than others. I want to walk in marble halls and nap on cool divans beside tinkling fountains as my servants feed me grapes and I drink ambrosia from golden chalices. That’s why!”

  “It’s good to have goals,” said Ole with a wink at Aisha.

  Four days later, after nearly finishing their water skins, the wide Hermonthis river greeted them. Like a great black snake, it slithered over the surface of the red-brown land and with it, occasional life and greenery sprouted in what had heretofore previously looked like a dead land.

  “I take it we should follow the river south?” asked Catlo.

  “Of course,” answered Aisha.

  “Too bad there isn’t a simpler way to go,” said Ole.

  “Like what?” asked Catlo, intrigued at the Northman’s hinted suggestion.

  “I’d like to have a ship under my legs again. To let the waves and wind take me where they will,” he said.

  “In time my friend,” said Catlo, looking far away to the south. “We will return to the sea, but then as kings!”

  Ole gave him a curious look at that and Aisha couldn’t help but realize that Ole did not think of himself as Catlo’s friend, simply the blood debt that he owed for whatever inconceivable reason that she had still not been able to define.

  “I meant, we should make one,” said Ole finally.

  “Make one?” sputtered Catlo. “How would we do that? We don’t have any tools or skills for such a thing.”

  “I do,” answered the Northman.

  “As do we,” piped up the Umoja.

  “You two? I thought you people liked to run everywhere. It took me long enough to even get you to ride horses.”

  “We have gone up and down the river in dug out canoes for many years,” said Musa. “We know these waters.”

  “Since we were very young boys,” affirmed Nyo.

  Catlo shook his head and raised his hands in surrender. “All right, if you all know how to do it, then get started. I need to take a nap.”

  Ole looked to the Umoja. “We don’t have time to make dugouts, and we must also consider the horses for our supplies and such. I think we make a great raft for all of us and can be on the river by tomorrow.”

  They looked dubiously to one another but nodded in agreement. “Tell us what you want us to do,” said Musa.

  Aisha shook her head and pondered if she shouldn’t just slay Catlo here and now as he made himself comfortable beneath a banyan tree, dropping his wide-brimmed hat over his eyes to take a nap. But she knew Ole wouldn’t allow it, so she had to wait and save the riddle of Ole’s debt for another day.

  Ole and the Umoja examined several trees and ultimately the Northman declared they should make a great raft from the many spindly post oaks, so that they could keep the horses, instead of the dugouts the Umoja had first imagined. Not normally being horsemen, they had planned on just letting the animals go, but Ole knew he sure didn’t want to walk all the way back to civilization with whatever amount of treasure they eventually would gain from Jokameno Mountain.

  His axe made quick work of the trees beside the river and after an hour or two, even Catlo roused himself to help with the task of lashing the logs together. It was painstaking work but by early evening, they had nearly completed a wide square craft. So long as the river remained as slow and docile as it now appeared, Aisha guessed they could have an easy enough time navigating the liquid highway.

  They made a fire that night, even though it was warm. Thick smoke from green branches helped to dissuade the mosquitoes and other biting insects. The others had long since fallen asleep as Aisha and Ole took the first watch. The roar of lions and the laugh of hyenas danced across her eardrums from a distance. It reminded Aisha of her childhood homestead and how strong and capable her father had been at keeping their livestock safe from such predators.

  “What do you remember?” asked Ole.

  She smiled. “Just dreams of my youth. My father used to slay lions. We had their skins for our blankets and my mother wore a cloak made of the finest pelt.”

  Ole nodded. “I did the same with my father in the far north.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “We would take kayaks and go out on the ice flow. We hunted seals under green ribbons of light that would dance through the sky, but often, we had to slay the great white bears.”

  “Green light?” she asked, puzzled.

  Ole nodded with a smirk. “I forget, if you have never been to the far north, you have not seen them. At night, vast swaths of color move across the sky, red, green, and blue. My mother would say it was the loom of the gods as they stitched our fate.”

  Aisha smiled. “My mother explained much of the world in a similar fashion, but for all I know it was the truth.”

  “Perhaps,” Ole agreed. “It makes as much sense as anything.”

  “What brought you south to my lands?”

  “Gold. What else?” Ole asked good naturedly. “Not a lot in the far northwest beyond snow, ice, and blood. I got into a lot of fights with my extended clan. It was considered best that I leave by the time I was sixteen snows. That was more than half my life ago.”

  “A disagreement?”

  “Spilt blood and with the small population, I had few friends and a lot of enemies. I had to go south and make my own way in the world. In time I doubted that the gods truly did roll the skein of my life. I now believe it is in my own hands alone.”

  She conceded the point. “But why then do you serve Catlo?”

  “I don’t. But I do owe him a blood debt, and I must pay it back before I can continue on my own adventure.”

  “What if you simply stopped me from slaying him in the night. Couldn’t that be repayment enough?”

  Ole grinned but shook his head. “No, it must be true, and it is beyond stopping you from the deed. I like you too much to worry on the blood shed about that.”

  Aisha didn’t understand his meaning, but said, “I like you, too.”

  She leaned in.

  He leaned in.

  Their breath mingled, then the heat of his body lay on her breast, intoxicating her with desire. Their lips met and melded together. The taste awakened a fire that each had hidden for far too long.

  “Ole! What in the devil’s name are you doing?” shouted Catlo. “The woman has beguiled you with her demon eyes!”

  Ole blushed but stood and said, “It’s not like that.”

  The Umoja, now awake, looked to each other and stifled a laugh.

  “The hell it’s not. We had an agreement. I promised you and you promised me, we would not have any distractions until this was over. I kept my side of the bargain. I never touched Diamanda.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Damn fool!” muttered Catlo as he stalked away.

  Ole dipped his head and looked sheepishly at Aisha. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t change how I feel about you, but I gave my word. No distractions until the job is done. Then we can—”

  Her anger flared. She hadn
’t had a taste of something that felt so right in so long—and just when she finally got it, it was stripped away in an instant by a man that was less than a dog in her eyes. “Don’t bother. I was the fool, not you. I’m tired and wasn’t feeling myself. I’m not interested in you—you big oaf.” She got up and stalked away.

  “Aisha,” he called, but she ignored him.

  If it had been safe to dive into the river in the dark, she would have. He had lit a fire that burned and hammered like a blacksmith’s forge. But there was no telling what predator or snake might be in the dark water, so she declined to go that route. Instead she went to her bedroll, climbed in, and cursed the luck which had teased her so. She did not sleep well at all that night.

  In the morning, they readied the raft and pushed it out into the river. Ole stood a short mast up in the center and let a large blanket that he had rigged act as a sail which nudged them just enough that they only had to do minimal work going upstream and against the weak current.

  Musa and Nyo seemed to enjoy standing on either side of the raft and pushing it along with twelve-foot-long poles. It was a very wide river but not too deep, more than once they had to skirt back and forth from either bank to avoid the many sandbars at each curving twist.

  “Look there,” said Aisha, pointing at a hillside close to where they had been camped. “It looks like a big hyena.”

  Ole shielded his eyes from the sun and strained to see. “Does it have three legs?”

  “I can’t tell, but it’s a big one. It couldn’t be the same one could it?”

  Ole shook his head. “Who knows, but we’re on the river now, so I think we’ll lose it.”

  Musa and Nyo looked at each other and murmured, “Bouda.”

  But as they traveled upriver, they saw no sign of the animal following them and within hours the incident was nearly forgotten.

  Every so often Aisha would catch Catlo looking at her and then he would just shake his head.

  “If you have something to say, why don’t you say it?” she chided.

  “Because I don’t have anything to say.” His awful grin bespoke the lie in those words.