Chapter 15. Earth-shaker
You are my chosen people.
But you are not the Gods of my world.
Do not awaken the wrath of those that sleep in the earth.
For they are the Lords of the land.
From the Book of Isarie.
It had been several days since the Outlanders had left the Talsonar lands, they had been traveling westward and were now entering the Greenland’s. A large expanse of land, dotted with patches of lush vegetation and small clear water lakes. Here the Thundra beasts could graze and fatten themselves for the journey ahead, there were also many fat Rimar for the Whiptails to feast upon. It was a time of plenty for the Nomads and they laughed under the warm suns.
But even in this green land there was still the treat of attack, for Gorn was not a forgiving place and seemed at war with itself.
The Nomads had many enemies, in the South lands, lived the Ozendra, the Zengarie, Maringar and Bal-Borie, in the North, dwelt the Caladon and the Armrod. These were the strongest of the Nomad tribes, with whom the Almadra had made war. Tribal wars were a way of life to the nomads, some fought for reasons seemingly, far too petty to an Off-Worlder. An insult at a gathering of the clans, or a question of who the Gods favored most, or over a female, whatever the reason, trouble was always brewing.
Osh was still feeling a bit sore from the beating the Talsonar gave him. Some boiled herbs, the loving care of the Touch-tenders and some Grana, soon got him back on his feet. As for the young Sandjar, he did not seem to be affected at all. The old man watched in amazement, as his bumps and bruises healed almost overnight. He was sure, the Scavengers had some extra healing capability in their genes, making them extremely tough. Rubbing his shoulder, he looked over at Andra, who was now driving his wagon.
“I think I can handle the reins now, if you would like to rest some?” There was no answer from Andra, she sat looking straight-ahead, “It really isn't a problem,” he said.
“I’ll be fine,” her voice was short and without warmth.
The old man knew, Andra was not, happy, she was no longer welcomed warmly by the Almadra. When the tribe heard, that their King, had traded a wagon full of Grana, to save her life, they were angry. It was one thing to fight for a warrior who was innocent but to give up their precious salt, for an Off-Worlder, who admitted their guilt, was something they could not accept. For her own safety, she was told to stay with the old man and not speak to anyone.
In Osh's eyes, Andra was still a friend and he tried to keep it that way. He looked around at the green countryside, “This vegetation is quite fascinating, it seems to be a form of plant life, that is indigenous to all planets of the Trylon level. Now that brings up a very interesting point, how can a single plant life, be found on so many, different worlds. I have a theory, at the beginning of the universe…”
“Will you shut up!” Andra suddenly screamed, “Nobody cares about vegetation or the universe or any of your stupid theories!”
Her loud outburst woke Endo, who was sleeping quietly in the back of the wagon, he began to cry loudly.
“And will you keep that little brat quiet!” Why didn’t I kill that monster when I had the chance?
Osh said nothing, he crawled into the back of the wagon, uncovered the Sandjar and began stroking its bald head. As he did, the young Sandjar, slowly stopped crying and began making soft mewing sounds.
Andra heard the child but did not look, she kept staring ahead, thinking of what the future might hold; my world is gone, my family is gone, will this be my end? Sitting in a wagon, listening to a little monster crying?
The Nomad column was moving in a defensive formation, the Whiptails at the front with the Spike-backs on either side. The Trofar herd was at the back and at the front was the King and beside him, rode his brother and sister.
Arn had not accepted his sister's story, that she had fallen asleep and did not hear the signal horns, calling the warriors to battle. He was sure there was more to it, what it was he didn't know. Any other warrior, would have been punished severely but since it was Seeda, she was given the task of milking the Trofar beast. A duty any child of the tribe could do, it was humiliating for Seeda but far better than she deserved. She was also told not to speak to Almec, Arn was not sure of Almec's role in the matter but he decided to keep them apart, for the time being.
As they rode, the King could hear his sister, muttering under her breath, so could Agart. He moved his Whiptail closer to her, “I hear you're becoming quite a good milkmaid,” then he made a gesture, like he was pulling on a Trofar's udder.
Seeda did not say anything but made a loud grunting sound, she dug her spurs into her Whiptail's sides and rode away quickly.
Agart felt a little guilty, he never meant to hurt her feelings, he watched her moving back into the column, until she was obscured by dust, then he rode up beside the King.
Arn saw him and shook his head, “You should not tease her like that, you know it only makes her worse, better to tease a Whiptail than our sister.”
“She is a good warrior but she still has a lot to learn, about growing up,” his brother commented, “She is still, as thin skinned as a Forest-flier.”
Seeda was still grumbling, when she rode back to the Queen's wagon.
A milkmaid he called me, milkmaid! I remember when we used to wrestle and I would hold him in an arm sling, until he screamed for our mother. Milkmaid! She continued to grumble as she passed the Trofars, she knew they would need milking, very soon.
Egmar was now doing all the things she used to do, the Touch-tenders were no longer needed and she was even holding the reins and sitting proudly, like she did when she was young. She no longer sang the dark songs of the Wailing Women and her nights were filled with warm dreams. She knew, someday she would join her mate in the Golden Hall of Isarie and they would live in eternal rapture.
The Queen watched, as her angry daughter jumped into her wagon, she tied the reins of her Whiptail to the railing. She sat down beside her mother, not saying anything but still grumbling under her breath. The old woman listened to her for a time without comment, the muttering continued, suddenly the Queen slapped her hard on the side of her face.
“Why did you do that?” Seeda asked, as she rubbed her reddening cheek.
“Why, did it hurt?” Egmar asked mockingly.
“Of course it did.”
The Queen looked at her hard. “I see, so a mighty warrior of the Almadra, is hurt by a blow from a frail old woman,” she looked up at the sky, “Isarie look kindly upon us, for we are defenseless.”
Seeda finally understood what her mother was getting at, she looked down sheepishly; my mother is wise, I was acting like a fool. “Forgive me mother?” she asked still rubbing her cheek.
Egmar pointed at her daughter with one of her long fingers, “Your brother is King and you are a warrior, accept his judgment like a warrior.” Her mother tried to keep a stern look on her face but it did not last long. She handed the reins to her daughter, “I am tired, would you guide us for a while?” I am not tired but she always liked yelling at the Thundra.
Her daughter smiled at her and then shouted at the Trofar beast, to move faster, the wagon gave a sharp jolt as it lurched forward, almost sending Egmar into the back, she grabbed hold of the wagon rail. “Slow down or I will strike you again!” she screamed.
Seeda only laughed and whipped the reins down hard on the Trofar's rump, making the creature bellow and move even faster.
On the other side of the column, Andra's wagon moved up over a rocky outcrop, then came down hard, shaking everyone inside and making the Sandjar child cry once again.
“I thought I told you to keep that dam thing quiet!”
Osh held the green child and tried his best to calm him, “I will if you keep from hitting every rock on the planet.” I wonder how many rocks are on planets this size and what are the odds of hitting every one?
Andra stopped the wagon and turned around, to look the old man in
the face, “Why do you keep that little monster anyway, he’ll suck the life out of you, just like he tried to do with me. Or have you forgotten how the Sandjar treated us, if you can’t do it, give him to me and I’ll throw him off!”
The old man could see that Andra was very upset, she had a right to be, she had been through a lot. Now she was almost an outcast from the tribe, it was easy to understand her sudden outbreak.
“You were a soldier once, it is easy for you to kill,” he handed her the child, “Go on, kill it! I am sure you will receive a medal for your bravery.”
Andra looked at the little creature; I was a soldier but I never killed an infant but it tried to kill me. I should smash its head in, right here and now but kill a child?
She handed the Sandjar back to the old man, “Take it,” she said sharply, “and try to keep it quiet, if there is one thing I hate, its crying little brats.”
The old man took the child and put it back into the bundle of sandy rags that was its bed. When Andra was busy driving the wagon, he took a small bone from his robe, it still had some raw meat attached. He sniffed the bone, like a bird checking a worm, then put it into the Sandjar's toothy mouth, it immediately stopped crying.
Osh covered his son with more rags, he took some soft sand, stored in a large clay pot, then made a soft layer of sand over the rags. Then he climbed back beside his friend, “Endo is fine now, he will be asleep in no time,” he said.
Andra looked at him, “I meant to ask you, why you named that thing Endo, what kind of name is that anyway?”
The old man sat up a bit taller, “Do you like it? I thought it would be a good name because he is a biped carnivorous life form of the Endo-Nomarus species. It is really quite an interesting area of research. The first real investigation into the Sandjar people, was done by a colleague of mine. He was a rather intelligent man even for a Soltarrian but he was not very good at chromosome separation, I remember one time....”
As Osh began another of his long-winded stories, Andra almost wished the Sandjar would start crying again.
Since Almec had been forbidden to speak to Seeda, he had been spending more time with his old friend, Kuno. Mostly they just drank and discussed the attractiveness of the tribe's females. They would also play Chance-cards and since they both cheated, it did not matter who won or who lost. Everyone knew the Spike-back Captain was not mated, he preferred to stay alone in his tent. Some said, it was because of his eating habits but the truth was, he found being mated, too much of a restriction on his rather easy going life. He had tried it once but after a very short time, his mate asked the High Priestess to dissolve the marriage. Their names were taken off, the Almadra ancestor records.
Kuno knew his friend had been drinking quite heavily lately, he also knew, that he was sneaking out of camp at night, to meet with Seeda. He knew this was against the King's orders but he was never one to follow rules too closely. So he looked the other way and kept his mouth shut. He looked over at his friend as he rode his Whiptail, he could see that Almec was not feeling very well.
“What ails you my friend, is it last nights Hagar soup or is it a certain female warrior, not allowing your weapon into her tent?”
Almec looked up at his drinking companion, his Spikeback lumbered from side to side, making the Talsonar weapon on its back, bounce. Its long barrel, was only inches away from his friend's helmet. It seemed like, it would knock him off his saddle at any moment, “I would look to my own weapon, if I were you and not be so concerned about others,” he said bluntly.
This made Kuno laugh hard, “My weapon is always at the ready, my sad friend and I always hit my mark!”
Almec laughed also, he felt much better now; should I tell him about the Ice? The world that it opened for me? No! I made a promise to Seeda and I will keep it.
As the Nomads came up over a rise, the King could see a large green area, it had tall grasses and small trees. It did not seem out-of-place in the Greenland’s and to anyone but a Nomad, it looked like just another oasis. Beyond it was a rocky canyon, with tall cliffs on either side, the Pass of Moke. Arn stopped his Whiptail and turned to Agart, “It will take us a long time to go around,” he said quietly.
His brother saw the oasis and nodded, “Yes but the Pass of Moke lies beyond, there is no other way through the Mountains of Kresh. If we move quietly we will be safe.” A dangerous choice but one he must make.
Arn thought for a moment or two, then made up his mind, “Tell everyone to remain silent, when all is ready, we will move on.” Is it the right choice? Would father do the same? Agart rode off to give the order, Arn looked up at the sky and spoke softly, “May Isarie guide me.” Father, are you watching?
The King's orders, were spread quickly throughout the tribe, the warriors strapped their weapons to their saddles and put the water flasks inside carry bags. The Elders placed the children inside the backs of the wagons and gave them sweet tasting Meadow-cane, to keep them quiet, until they were out of danger. Everyone checked, then rechecked their wagons for any loose item that might make a noise. The Trofar were muzzled, to make sure they did not bellow at the wrong time.
Agart rode up to Andra and Osh's wagon, stopping in a cloud of dust, he pointed at their wagon. “Make sure you remain silent, secure all your belongings and do not speak until we are well clear of the danger,” then he rode off.
Osh looked around, he was confused, “I see no danger here, this must be some kind of joke.”
Andra did not see anything out-of-order either, “Perhaps but let’s not take the chance. I will check outside, while you do the same inside.” She jumped off the wagon and began to tighten ropes and secure anything that might give their position away; a sound can mean death and silence is the best armor!
All the Almadra knew what was coming but they did not waste time in discussion or fear. They quickly went about their duties and made sure all the loose items in the wagons, were tied down and all was made ready.
A short time later, the tribe was ready to move, the signal that all was ready, was passed up and down the long column. They waited for their King to give the order to proceed.
Arn had been watching the green oasis intently; there is no movement, or cracks in the ground, no shifting of the surface rocks, it is safe. He lifted his hand as the signal to the Madrigal, they were on the move once more.
Slowly the long train of wagons and warriors, began to move towards the Pass of Moke, they made no sound, except the creaking of wagon wheels and the occasional snort from a Whiptail. Everyone seemed on edge, as they came closer to the lush green oasis, everyone except the two Off-Worlders.
Andra held the reins but seemed at ease, while Osh looked around, trying to find any sign of danger, “I do not see anything that might cause us harm, no unstable ground formations, no steam vents, nothing. I think we have been the subject of an elaborate hoax.” If this is a joke, they have taken a lot of trouble.
Andra had to agree, the land looked perfectly safe. This is good country, there is water, rich ground, it would be easy to start a farm here, start a family; she thought. She shook her head; you hated being a farmer, getting your hands dirty and the spiders! She shook her head, then turned to Osh, “It may be a hoax but let's not take any chances.”
Osh was about to say something, when Andra put her fingers to her lips. In all the worlds of the Outer Rim that gesture meant the same thing, be quiet, so the old man sat still and did not speak another word.
Arn was apprehensive, as he led his people towards the green oasis, as they drew closer, it was easy to see the tall stands of Balbar trees and the lush green grass surrounding the area. To a traveler, this would be a paradise and they would surely have thanked the Gods, for providing such a resting place.
The Nomads knew this was no place of resting. The warriors held their heavy axes tightly and used their strong legs to grip the sides of their Whiptails. They were ready for what may lay ahead. The Elders clutched Holy figurines in their wrinkled hands and pray
ed silently to Isarie, to let them pass unharmed. Even the Thundra beasts, seemed to sense something dangerous was ahead, they made no sound.
In the High Priestess' wagon, Obec was surrounded by her Handmaidens and together they softly chanted a very ancient song.
Hear our prayers oh Gods of the soil.
Forgive our passing on endless toil.
Sleep in the earth, where peace is found.
Wake not from slumber and break the ground.
They repeated this, over and over again, they raised their hands to the heavens and there were smiles on their faces but in their hearts, they were afraid.
Andra could still not understand, all the apprehension. It was clearly a water hole of some kind, nothing to fear at all. Perhaps the Nomads saw something, she did not but whatever it was, she did not know. As they drew even closer, it seemed no worse, the only thing different, was a slight smell, like rotting leaves, or when you lift a rock and find insects have made it their home.
“This is silly,” she suddenly blurted out, “there is nothing here.” it was a trick, I bet they're all having a great laugh on me!
Osh nodded his head in agreement, “I think you are right, although I did hear stories of some kind of monster the Nomads fear. All societies have their monsters, take for instance the creatures of the pale Moon of Trimax…” He was about to go into one of his overly detailed stories, then he remembered the order to be silent, so he decided to obey the command.
As Andra looked over at the wagon next to her, she saw that the woman driving it, had tears in her eyes. Her small daughter was clutching her tightly; she is afraid, perhaps there is a monster here; Andra thought.
Quietly the Nomads moved past the oasis, Arn watched its passing, he sighed in relief; we are past, I made the right choice!
Beside him Agart also looked pleased; Isarie has heard our prayers and has smiled upon us. They could relax now, the greatest danger was behind them, ahead lay the Pass of Moke.
The King turned to his brother and spoke in a low voice, “We will remain silent, until we enter the Pass of Moke; we are past but there is still danger.”
Agart approved of the order and smiled at his brother, “Yes, after the Pass, we can set up camp near the…”
He stopped suddenly, once more the Nomad's sixth sense came into play. A sound. Before he could tell his brother what he was heard, the ground under his Whiptail began to shake, in his mind he heard; Earth-shaker!
As he watched the oasis, he realized, the shaking was not coming from there, this was another Land-quake.
The King could see rock, falling from the Pass of Moke, large boulders were tumbling down the steep slopes, before smashing into pieces on the hard ground. Night-fliers and Sun-droppers, took to the air in a desperate effort, to avoid being crushed under the falling rocks.
The Almadra held their breath and waited, the column had stopped at the first sign of the shaking, now they did not move or speak, they were afraid, slowly the rumbling subsided.
Arn waited, he too was afraid, afraid of what the Land-quake might awaken. The earth stopped moving and all was quiet once more, he looked back at the oasis and saw nothing, then he turned to his brother, “I think Isarie is with us.”
“Yes, let's hope she stays with us,” Agart lifted his hand and the Nomads started to move. They had only moved a few yards, when the ground started to shift again but this time, it was not the will of the Gods but the earthly God of the Greenland’s.
The green oasis, was slowly lifting up from the ground, as it did, the surrounding land began to crack and rumble. The air was filled with the stench of rotting plants and the arrow birds that had made their home in the Balbar trees, flew hurriedly into the safety of the open sky.
The Almadra wagons, rocked back and forth, screams could be heard, as mothers held their children. The Trofar beasts, began to bellow loudly and run in all directions. The usually mild mannered creatures, were now mad with fear, they did not respond to the herd tender's yells and rushed from the caravan like wild things.
Andra had her hands full, her Tundra beast was pulling at the reins, making deep honking sounds. She held on with all her strength, trying desperately, to get the creature under control, “What’s happening?” she cried out. She looked back at the oasis and saw something, it made her gasp in awe. She saw a creature slowly rising up from the ground, it was monstrous, she had seen many large creatures before but none like this.
It was hundreds of meters tall, it almost seemed to fill the sky and its mottled skin was embedded with moss and rock. It was shaped like the small field turtles on her home world but this one, had long tentacle like tubes, trailing from its stomach to the ground. Its four massive legs were toe-less and their footprints could have covered an acre. Its armored head was without eyes and it had dozens of long pink tongues, protruding from a giant toothless mouth. Its back was covered in soil and vegetation, large rocks falling to the ground as it lifted itself up, could have crushed her wagon like a toy.
A monster!
She saw it lift its titanic head, then emit a blast of sound that almost broke her eardrums, it echoed over the Greenland’s, like a wave from the ocean. It started to move, its feet crunched into the ground, causing cracks to appear and toppling boulders to the ground.
Arn’s Whiptail was jerking about underneath him, as he yelled to Agart, “Save what you can, I will attack with the warriors.”
His brother knew, it was useless to try to harm the beast, its hide was too thick and their axes would only bounce off, like water off a rock. It might buy them some valuable time, to get the tribe to safety. As he fought with his mount, Agart pointed to the Spike-backs.
“Order the guns to fire, then attack from the left, I will attack from the right.” Isarie help us!
It was the best plan the King could think of too, “I will give the order,” they rode off, both praying to a single God!
The Nomad wagons began to race for the Pass of Moke, the Earth-shaker was too large to follow them into the narrow canyon and they would be safe there. They knew the creature was blind and was not a carnivore. It was merely moving to another feeding ground but anything in its way, met with certain destruction. It made the loud bellowing sound once more and several of the wagons overturned, when their Thundra bolted in panic.
Andra drove her wagon as fast as she could, the monster was right behind. One of its tremendous feet, struck the ground some distance from her but with enough power, to shake the wooden vehicle violently. Osh was in the back now, holding the screaming Sandjar child. He was shaking like a leaf and trying to think of some soothing words keep the boy quiet.
Seeda wanted to stay with her mother but her warrior blood, was starting to take over, she had only one thought, to ride with her King and defend the tribe. She looked over at her mother, who was holding the wagon railing tightly.
Egmar could see the look in her daughter's eyes; it would be useless to keep her from the battle, she is a warrior! She smiled at her and said just one word, “Go!”
Seeda took one last look at her mother, then jumped into her Whiptail's saddle. She lifted her war-ax and rode hard to face the bellowing land God.
Kuno had already ordered the Disruptors to make ready, using the long-range cannon would be a waste of ammunition. The shells were much to small and would hardly be felt by the Earth-shaker but the creature's hearing was very acute. The Disruptors channeled a beam of high intensity sound, by vibrating a massive crystal inside its casing. Not advanced technology, just good mechanics and therefore it was unaffected by the planet's magnetic waves.
To a Nomad, it caused intense pain and even death but to the monster bearing down on them, it would mean little more than an irritation but it was all they had! As the King rode up to Kuno, he was holding his hand up, ready, to give the order to fire.
Arn and his company of warriors, were ready to charge the beast, each man and woman eager to fight for their tribe. They reached into their carry pouches
and took out small lumps of wax. They stuffed them into their ears, shutting out most of the sound, it protecting their hearing from the creature's blasts.
When all was ready the King shouted to the Spikeback commander, “Fire!”
Kuno dropped his hand and the Disruptors powered up, a low hum, quickly building up to a high pitched wail, suddenly an invisible beam of energy, shot out from their directional disks, the monster bellowed. It turned slightly to the left, missing the High Priestess' wagon, which would otherwise have been crushed. Even so it shook the heavy cart to its core, causing the Handmaidens inside to scream. Several of the Thungodra, trying to defend the Holy Woman, were ground to pulp, under the monster's foot.
Arn led his warriors into the fray. They blew their war horns and shouted at the top of their lungs, they tried to drive their weapons into the creature's feet but they bounced off, like sand off a mountain.
Agart tried with his men but the outcome was the same, even though it was a futile attempt, they had to try. Running from an enemy, would have been an act of a coward, better to die in battle, than live in disgrace.
Andra followed the wagons to her front, racing for the narrow pass. The air became thick with dust and she could barely make out the wagons ahead. She almost overturned, when her Trofar stumbled over a rocky outcrop, although the cart was lifted high into the air, it came down on its wheels and they continued their escape.
Again and again, Kuno gave the order to fire the Disruptors, with the intense firing, one unit's power coils burned out, billowing smoke into the air. When the creature moved towards them, the Spikeback warriors, did not retreat, even when the ground gave way under their feet, they continued to fire.
Their commander started to laugh, as he shouted to his men, “If you cannot hit a target that big, you do not deserve your Po!” If we die, then we die in battle and there is always plenty to eat in The Great Hall of Isarie.
Almec had found Seeda, he could hear her war cries, echoing like a sky demons, he saw her riding as fast as her Whiptail could carry her, heading straight for the Earth-shaker. Almec wielded his ax and dug in his spurs, his war beast let out a loud roar, then raced up to and alongside Seeda. When she saw Almec next to her, she smiled, then together they screamed out their tribe's name and raced to meet whatever fate the Gods had in store.
They rode side by side, at that moment, they did not care if they lived or died, the fighting madness was upon them. They would have ridden into the fires of Marloon if need be. Then as a titanic foot came down near them, Seeda drove her Whiptail close to the monster, she struck at one of the long tentacles, hanging from its belly. The huge worm like extensions, were without armor and her ax bit deeply into the spongy flesh. The creature gave out another loud bellow that shook the ground. Almec was almost hit, as the tentacle withdrew upwards but he managed to get away unhurt and joined his lover as she rode away.
Most of the wagons had now reached the safety of the canyon, they moved into the narrow pass, some with broken wheels, were being dragged. Once inside the canyon they slowed down to wait for the warriors to return.
As they waited, the Elders prayed for the lives of the warriors, reciting ancient passages from the Book of Isarie, hoping the Gods would show mercy on them and grant them victory.
Andra's wagon was one of the last to enter the pass, her vehicle was mostly intact, except for a broken water barrel and several cracks in the undercarriage. Osh was still holding the screaming Sandjar, his eyes were closed and he seemed to be praying.
Arn could see the Disruptors were working, the Earth-shaker was slowly turning away and heading back into the Greenland’s. As the monster moved away, he signaled to the warriors, to give the all clear on the war horns, as they did, he looked around at the damage. As the dust settled, he saw many dead warriors, some had been crushed to death under the monster's feet. Others had fallen from their mounts, to be trampled by the Whiptails, who could not seen them in the thick smoke and dust.
My choice has killed many warriors but they died as warriors, the Gods will welcome them; Arn told himself.
He saw Agart riding up to him, with him, several warriors and his sister. She was dirty and had a cut on her cheek but she never seemed so happy. He looked at her and smiled, “I see you are unhurt, that is good, I wouldn't want you to miss the evening's milking.”
Seeda should have been offended but she just smiled back, she had ridden her Whiptail well and defended her people, it would be a memorable tale to tell around the campfire.
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