Sowing Dragon Teeth

by James Alderdice

  “Then what?”

  “Well, they knew he had a change of heart, though they loved him, they still didn’t trust him. Showing him the mountain had been his final test, and he failed. They loved him and didn’t want to kill him, so they blinded him instead and set him loose in the desert. He should have died, but he made it back to civilization and told men his story and that’s how he made his living thereafter. Telling the story and getting free drinks. It gives one a lot to think about.”

  Aisha had heard similar tales’ years before, but she had never given them any credence. Knowing what she knew now, she decided it was possible. Certainly, stranger things had happened.

  “Musa, tell me why you are here?” asked Aisha.

  The Umoja pondered a moment, then said, “I was promised much gold and I had become an outlaw among my people. It seemed the best I could do was to follow my harsh destiny.”

  Catlo nodded. “I have offered him a good wage to serve me. Now if he could just keep the dead Zahur a bit farther from camp so I didn’t have to smell his stink we could get along famously.”

  “Do not speak the name of the dead!”

  “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting.”

  “I need to talk to the spirits.” He stood and strode away down the stony beach.

  “He never used to be so sensitive,” said Catlo.

  “Maybe you’ve just gotten more offensive,” suggested Aisha. “No, that can’t be it.”

  “Very funny, Iron Maiden. But if you are feeling so talkative yourself now, why don’t you tell me the story of how you lost a pirate armada you were in charge of? Hmmm?”

  Aisha frowned and glanced at Ole, but the big Northman was not meeting her gaze. “I did lose a battle. I lost a lot of men that were under my command and I lost my ship.”

  “I knew it!” shouted Catlo. “Women cannot command!”

  “It’s not like that,” she argued. “I was in command and I made a bad call, but we were betrayed.”

  “Excuses, excuses,” said Catlo, seeming to relish her tantrum.

  “I’m not talking to either of you anymore. My past has nothing to do with the future.”

  “So you say, but I’d like to know that when we get to the mountain you don’t crack like Musa there.” He pointed down the beach at the tall Umoja who appeared to be prostrating himself and speaking to the moon.

  “I’m not cracking up, but I don’t like being accused of things that aren’t my fault,” she said.

  “I hear you,” continued Catlo. “But you even said you made a bad decision, that you lost men, your ship, and a battle. The Cutlass Empire is no more because of your loss, isn’t that true?”

  “It is true, but the Cutlass Empire was lost because of infighting and traitors in our ranks. Not just because I lost a battle that was lopsided against me.”

  Catlo reclined into his saddle and grinned. “Well, I’d like to believe you, but I’ve never seen a woman who could fight and lead, so there’s that.”

  “Fight me,” she challenged.

  “I’d like to, but Ole won’t let me,” he taunted.

  Aisha stood and held her fists up. “Not to the death, just fists if you like.”

  Catlo sat up straighter and scowled. “I don’t think Ole would—”

  “I would,” said Ole, grinning like a demon. “Go ahead.”

  Catlo’s scowl deepened. “I’m still weak from blood loss from the Tikoloshe. Maybe in a few days when my strength returns. But I don’t like hitting women.”

  Aisha snorted.

  “I didn’t say I don’t hit women, just that I don’t like it,” said Catlo. “Anyway, good night, you have first watch.”

  “No, I will take the first watch,” said Musa.

  “Such a gentleman,” mocked Catlo.

  The bright moon hung in the sky, casting pale cold light on the river and the canyon walls. Jackals called far out in the hills and Aisha found it difficult to sleep. She didn’t allow herself to finally rest until Ole took over watch past midnight.

  Clouds passing over the moon cast greats shadows and the nightmares waited hungrily to take root. Great serpentine wings washed over her face as wind brushed her hair. Her eyes were wide with fright but there was nothing there but darkness. She had to face these fears and slay the dragons that haunted her dreams. To hell with the wealth and riches in the mountain, if she could enact revenge on so much as a single dragon egg, she would have her due.

  Morning came, and it was time to get on the river. Musa was especially somber, but he continued his work at the pole, guiding them further upriver.

  By mid-day they came to a cleft in the canyon and the river was split in two by a wooded rocky outcrop.

  “Which way?” asked Aisha.

  “You mean you don’t know?” taunted Catlo. “Maybe you don’t know the map and secrets as well as you think you do.”

  But Musa, who was not much on humor, answered, “From here on, the river splits on itself many times but always rejoins itself. Some of the channels may be better than others and we may not know which until we are already there. Some have rapids and some mud bogs.”

  “See,” tested Catlo. “You don’t know everything, Aisha.”

  She retorted, “I know an ass when I see one.”

  Catlo’s broad grin turned to a frown and he stepped forward as if he wanted to strike her, but a solid glance from Ole stayed his hand. “Just keep us going south!”

  They made their way around to the left because it was slower while the right had a few rapids and rocks jutting from the tumbling current. It was very slow going and they were quite tired by the time they rounded the wooded island. It appeared that the rapid way would have been a lot shorter, but it would not have been navigable.

  Ahead, the canyon walls sloped downward revealing parts of the land that had been hidden from them for the last two days, and they could see the open savannah to their right. Here and there sparse trees broke up the landscape, and even some few animals were visible. Giraffes and zebras as well as smaller gazelles and birds.

  “I’m hungry, maybe we should camp here and get some of that game. I tire of fish,” said Ole.

  Musa nodded his agreement and pushed the raft in that direction.

  “We need to be wary,” warned Aisha. “We are behind on our schedule. We have lost many days.”

  “You think that because of our battle at the tower and the Tikoloshe that perhaps the Kathulians may have caught up to us?” asked Catlo. “Surely they are done with that venture.”

  “Xargon didn’t think so,” she said. “He said as much.”

  “Kathulians always lie. They wouldn’t know where to go and how to get into the mountain.”

  “A liar thinks everyone else always lies,” she said coolly.

  Catlo frowned. “Yes, well, let’s be on our guard just the same. Maybe this is not a good place to rest and get game. Ole and you will have to keep filling your bellies with fish.” He gazed longingly at the wild animals and prospective meat.

  Ole shrugged.

  Vultures hung in the air overhead, wheeling like black stars.

  Aisha watched anxiously. Something felt off. Near as she could tell there was no place to hide, so there couldn’t be an ambush waiting, could there?

  They passed another canyon and as they neared the open land a man with dark red-brown skin came walking closer to the river. He was very tall and thin and wore a long reddish kilt which had a wide spotted-leopard belt supporting it. He carried a long leaf-bladed spear in his hand. As soon as he spotted them a fearsome smile cracked his lips.

  Musa reacted instantly, trying to drag the raft back farther out into the river. “Leopard Men!” he proclaimed.

  Ole quickly helped take the raft back out into the midstream.

  The leopard man on the shore shouted something unintelligible and was answered by a slew of shouting as more similar dressed men, all carrying a multitude of those long leaf-shaped spears, came running. No less than fifty of them, a
ll crying for blood.

  Several threw spears. A spear struck one of the horses above the shoulder. The animal screamed and dove over the side of the raft, its neck transfixed.

  Some of the leopard men charged out into the river to cast their spears.

  The raft unbalanced for a moment as the horses panicked at the sudden splashing scent of blood. The raft came slapping back down as the mortally wounded animal leapt overboard. The other terrified horses jostled about and the crew barely kept their own balance.

  The leopard men shouted a dirge in unison. “Da dusa! Da dusa! Da dusa!”

  Aisha thought she heard drums joining in the chant, but she never saw any. She briefly wondered if it was her own heartbeat.

  Some of the leopard men continued wading out toward them, the river up to their waists. It seemed as if they were begging the raft to come to them.

  The raft traveled backward as the current took hold and they moved just barely out of range for the long spears cast.

  The leopard men in the river shouted angrily toward the raft when suddenly one and then another were yanked under the murky water. One surfaced and screamed as a crocodile took him again and pulled him under. The rest of the leopard men charged out of the water. The brown water swirled crimson with their blood.

  “Never thought I’d be grateful to see a crocodile at work,” said Catlo.

  The raft struck a rock and jerked violently. It threatened to pitch to one side and the horses panicked and jostled it the opposite direction. They were away from the canyon walls and any apparent danger from the leopard men, but they were taken by the current toward the right fork of the river that they knew to have rapids and boulders.

  “We can’t fight this,” shouted Ole. “We should get off now.”

  “Here? Those savages are just upriver!” said Catlo.

  “We don’t have a choice.” Aisha lifted her saddlebags and took hold of her horse’s reins.

  Musa followed suit, but not before he had also loosed Zahur’s mule. The animal knowingly dove into the river and made for the closest bank.

  “We shouldn’t go that way,” said Ole. “We can cross upriver later.”

  Aisha nodded her agreement.

  The raft struck another boulder and tipped, throwing them all into the river. They drove the horses safely to the mid-bank of the sandbar. All of them except Zahur’s mule, which was on the far side. It glanced at the others and proceeded to walk along the steep rocky bank parallel to them. That it would soon be the hands of the leopard men was not something the knot-head could possibly comprehend.

  “Looks like Zahur won’t make it to be buried at the mountain,” said Catlo. “The leopard men will eat his mule and probably him too.”

  Musa snapped, “I told you! Don’t speak the name of the dead!” He lanced his spear forward missing Catlo’s neck by less than an inch. If he had indeed missed.

  Ole’s throwing axe was out in an instant but Musa had stopped and was staring daggers at Catlo.

  “You’re crazy!” snarled Catlo. He glanced at Ole and Aisha for support.

  “I won’t remind you again,” shouted Musa, as he turned to tend to his horse.

  “We’re down one horse, at least we still have Musa’s brothers’ horse,” said Ole.

  Musa looked over his shoulder at them and nodded, though he was still scowling.

  Catlo shook his head. “And I am stuck still riding Feroze’s nag,” complained Catlo. “Not dignified at all for the leader of this venture.”

  Musa flashed an angry look at Catlo.

  “I said I am still riding that furry nag. Relax!”

  “We had best brave the crocodiles and get across the slower current and go around the other side of the leopard men. Unless you think they might have dug outs?” Aisha asked Musa.

  “They might. But there is no other way to go,” said the Umoja. “We should hurry.”

  “Then let’s get going before they decide to brave the waters and come to this island for us,” she said.

  They scanned the river warily and then hurried their mounts across. No crocs accosted them and they mounted up on the other side of the canyon and moved into some steep wooded cover. At the ridgeline they could even scan through the thick trees and see the leopard men who were making their own way down to inspect what was left of the raft. The leopard men found Zahur and his mule and led it by the reins into their own encampment.

  “Looks like he won’t make it to Jokameno,” said Catlo.

  “We shall see,” argued Musa.

  Some few of the leopard men cautiously moved through the rapids to investigate the island.

  “They’ll find our tracks soon enough,” said Aisha.

  “At least they don’t have any horses,” said Ole with a grin.

  15. The Poison Tree

  Once up and over the ridgeline of the mesa, they didn’t ride far, only a mile or two when the trees thinned out and faded away all together.

  “We’re far enough from the river that nothing but this scrubby grass can grow,” said Musa. “But the leopard men may still follow us. They are swift runners and do not use the horse because of this.”

  Each of them took to looking over their shoulders to see if there was any pursuit coming over the rolling grass covered hills. With each passing cloud it was easy to imagine a leopard man war bonnet coming over the top in droves. But it was a grateful relief every time they looked that there was nothing there, but the paranoia grew in all of them. Musa, however, remained difficult and curious.

  “We ought to head back down to the river and leave the mesa,” he suggested.

  “Why? The leopard men are down there,” said Catlo.

  “We may be far enough ahead of them now.”

  “You’re the one who said they could run as fast as a horse. If we stay up here at least we can see them coming and have that head start we might need. Down there, they could jump us like cutpurses.”

  Musa grit his teeth and continued riding restlessly, like he had an itch he could not scratch.

  “How many men did you have when this first began?” Aisha asked Catlo.

  He shrugged and looked at his hands and silently mouthed several names. “I guess there were about fifteen of us. I thought it a good manageable number. Now we are quite less, but that just means less purses that I will have to split the treasure with.”

  “You have a charitable way of looking at things,” she sneered.

  “I’m realistic,” answered Catlo. He glanced toward Musa who was riding in the lead and well out of earshot, but he still whispered. “Why should I have had to share an equal amount with cowards like Feroze or Rahim. You didn’t even know Rahim. He took a Kathulian arrow through the throat when we fled from my hideout. They each served me for many moons but still, no reason they should be here now instead of us. If you or I had fallen, I’m sure they would have quit and gone back to raiding the caravans of the spice road.”

  “And if I had fallen?” she asked.

  Catlo curled his mustache. “I wouldn’t have let you die. You know the secret of the mountain.” He laughed, spurred his horse and rode ahead.

  Ole waited and let her catch up to him.

  “Is it all right for you to speak to me?” she asked coldly.

  “I can do what I want. I just have to see this through first,” he said gruffly.

  “If you say so,” she challenged. Her eyes caught a dim shape far on the horizon, it stood dark and tall above the grassland. “What is that?”

  “I can’t tell yet,” Ole said, shielding his eyes from the sun. “It almost looks like a tower.”

  “A tower? Here?”

  “There was a tower over a well in the middle of nowhere,” Ole suggested.

  “That wasn’t nowhere, that was an oasis. But here on the mesa when the river is way down there? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Well, it’s on our path. I suppose we’ll find out what it’s for.”

  Catlo noticed it almost as soon as Ais
ha. He cantered back to them and called to Musa. “Hey! What is that? Leopard men don’t build towers, do they?”

  “No. They build nothing but only destroy,” said Musa, who then spit his scorn for his tribal enemies.

  “Let’s keep a wary eye toward that thing then,” suggested Catlo.

  The tower would be difficult to avoid. The mesa was not terribly wide, with leering deep canyons ranging on both sides of them. If the tower was made for a lookout, there was little that could possibly be missed. Still there was something curious about it. As they neared, it seemed to be semi-transparent, allowing some light and even a slight shimmer of movement about it. Birds rose above it and then landed again every so often.

  It came into shape as they neared. It was a massive tree, as big as anything Aisha had ever seen. It reached more than sixty spans high with a trunk as big around as a six-horse wagon might need to make a full revolution. The leaves upon it were a dark hateful green with a hint of red speckles to them, but the worst thing was the bodies. Dozens of bodies of men were hung from the tree like unwholesome fruit. Some were ancient and hardly more than skeletons while a few others looked incredibly fresh.

  “What is this place?” gasped Catlo.

  “It is Sumu Ya Mti. We should not have come here,” said Musa. He stared at the tree and its swinging men like he was mesmerized by the gentle sway of the dangling legs as the wind pushed them in its invisible arms.

  “Musa,” said Aisha, shaking his shoulder. “What does it mean?”

  He didn’t react to her for a long moment. Then his consciousness returned. He paled when he saw them, as if he had just awoken from a dream or a nightmare. “The spirits, they keep calling me to join them.”

  “Musa, we are here with you. What does it mean? Why are the bodies here?”

  A cold sweat erupted over his body despite the midday warmth. “This is a cursed place. It is the poison tree of death. The place where demons hang their victims as a warning to all who trespass these lands.”

  “What demons?” grunted Ole as he looked about.

  “No man living has seen them, but they haunt these high places. Perhaps it is why the leopard men did not follow us.”