by Peter David
“And you?”
“He’ll probably come up with something.”
We sprinted toward Clea’s door and as we approached we saw what I knew we were going to see. The permanent guards who had been posted outside Clea’s doors were lying dead. They were nothing but skeletons, and I noticed a couple of stray cats were already licking at their bones. Marvelous.
I was moving so quickly that I actually vaulted over the nearer of the skeletons and burst into Clea’s room. I saw exactly what I thought I was going to see. Clea was in her chambers, backing up, a look of pure terror on her face. Lama was approaching her, and he seemed none the worse for wear insofar as having been punctured by flaming arrows. I suspected that he was busily learning the parameters of his abilities and had been more startled than anything by the flaming missiles that Ahmway had sent flying into him. Now he was coming nearer and nearer his sister, staggering and lurching but inevitable.
Desperate, horrified, Clea did the only thing that she could think of. She was standing near a pedestal upon which the crown had been set. Now she reached out, grabbed it and swung it desperately at him.
It should have presented no threat to him at all.
Instead, to my astonishment, he backed up. He looked far more wary than he had when he had first approached her, and I couldn’t fathom why. What threat could a crown pose to him?
Clea didn’t notice his reaction. She was just swinging the crown desperately, as if it were a mace. Lama dodged right and left, and then timed it correctly and swung his arm. It knocked the crown out of her hands and sent it rolling across the floor. Lama paid it no mind but instead remained focused on his sister.
The crown rolled up to my feet and came to a halt. I stared down at it, trying to figure out what to do.
The large red gem glittered back at me.
The gem of Moomy.
That was when a desperate thought occurred to me. I grabbed up the crown, gripped the gem tightly and yanked it out of the setting. Something within it seemed to hum the moment it came into contact with my skin. I began to suspect I knew what was going on, although I had no way of knowing for sure. But there was certainly one way to find out.
“Lama!” I bellowed and held up the gem. Lama’s hand was outstretched, ready to envelop his screaming sister’s face, but he stopped and turned and stared at me in confusion. When he saw what I was holding, he roared in wordless outrage, as if I had no right to possess it. His attention on Clea lost, he instead lurched toward me, flinging his arms about.
“By all means,” I snarled at him, “bring it here! Bring it to me!” I advanced on him and within an instant Lama realized that he was in trouble, just as I’d hoped he would. He stumbled backwards, and there was no fear on his face because he was likely incapable of feeling such an emotion. But he was doing his best to avoid the gem, which was exactly what I had anticipated he would do.
I strode toward him and his foul breath rolled over me as he roared, but I was holding my own breath so as to avoid inhaling it. And at the best possible moment, he tripped over a short stool and stumbled backwards, falling to the floor. At that moment he did not appear like a monster, but more like an innocent teen who had dressed himself as a mummy in order to scare the hell out of some people. Yet the expression on his face remained one of inarticulate rage.
I did the only thing I could think of: I shoved the gem directly into the remains of his face. His bloodshot eyes opened wide in shock and his body began to tremble violently. He tried to bring his hands up to grab my face, but I batted his hands aside and kept pushing the gem harder and harder into him.
The shaking of his body increased more and more and then he let out the most horrific roar I have ever heard made by anything living or undead. It sounded as if it was originating from the pits of hell. He vibrated so aggressively that it was getting harder for me to keep my gaze fixed upon him.
He threw his arms wide and let out one final shriek and then transformed entirely into a massive gust of wind. I was blown backwards, hit the ground, but kept my grip upon the gem like a thing of iron. I watched, amazed, as Lama’s body dissolved into what seemed a tightly contained tornado and was drawn into the gem. It shook as if it had a life of its own, trying to twist itself out of my hand, but I kept it tightly in place as if my life were on the line, which I was pretty sure it was.
Then there was a loud popping sound and just like that, Lama was gone. The gem’s red color sparkled even more brightly and I could tell that it was keeping the mummy’s spirit contained.
Clea was on the floor, looking up with astonishment. “What… what did you do? How did you do it?”
“This is the Moomy’s gem. Obviously either it was the source of his power or else he invested a deal of his power in it. Either way, it’s obviously a puissant gem. I think I’ll keep it with me.”
“Yes, yes!” Clea said urgently, waving it away. “Take it! Take it and get it as far away from me as you can! Was that Lama? Was that really—?”
“Yes, it was,” I told her. “And I strongly advise you not dwell on him overlong. You’ll only give yourself a headache.” I nodded toward Ahmway. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Apropos, wait!” said Clea.
I turned and stared at her, and there was something in her eyes, something that made me nervous. She was gazing at the gem and then she said slowly, “Was…was Lama causing the things that happened? The blood, the locust—?”
“No. That was God. My God. And he’ll do way worse to you,” I said, but I was speaking far too quickly, as if I were covering up something. I was ashamed to admit that for the first time in my life, my lies were not coming trippingly off my tongue. Worse, I suspected that Clea was aware of it, but my hope was that it would not prompt her to take any action against the Shews as a result of her suspicions.
As it turned out, as with all things in this matter, I was wrong.
Chapter 15 Up the Sea Without a Paddle
It was not difficult to discern where the Shews was gathering. The section of the city where they resided had never been more alive. They were massing in the streets, their belongings hastily packed into knapsacks or whatever they wound up being able to get their hands on.
Ahmway, somewhat to my surprise, was accompanying me. “You don’t have to,” I reminded him. “I’m departing the palace, and I’ll be surrounded by people. Your duty to me is over.”
In response, Ahmway shrugged. “I’ve become accustomed to you. And I will never forget the mercy you showed me,” and his voice dropped, “when I did not deserve it. So I find the prospect of turning my back on you to be anathema.”
I had no response to that. Instead I glanced at the bow that he had slung over his shoulders. “Just how good are you with that thing?”
“I’m the best marksman in the army,” he said with a touch of pride.
I had no idea of just how formidable the archery skills of the rest of the army was and so had nothing on which to base any assessment. So I simply nodded and then waded my way through the Shews as they hastened together.
I heard a startled gasp from the side and turned to see the origin. It was Rebeka. She had been moving past with her husband, Tommen, at her side. Apparently he had forgiven her for her attempt to save their child’s life. She had a bundle of her possessions slung over her shoulder, but now her attention was focused entirely on Ahmway. I immediately knew what the problem was: she recognized him. I had no doubt that she did. His features were likely etched into her brain. She would never forget him.
Slowly she raised her trembling hand and pointed at Ahmway. It was certainly easy to single him out since he was still clad in the gear of a palace guard. Tommen looked in confusion from Ahmway to his wife, and, sensing an impending disaster, I stepped forward quickly. “Rebeka, I know what you’re thinking…” I began.
She didn’t let me continue. “You’re allied with him?” she said incredulously. “You’re allied with…” She turned to her husband. “This is the man who killed o
ur son.”
The blood drained from Tommen’s face. Surprisingly, he took a step back. That movement spoke volumes to me. If Tommen were going to be moved to outrage, as I would have assumed, he would have stepped forward and there would have been fury in his eyes. Instead he slightly retreated as if concerned that Ahmway might launch an attack on him next. So at heart, it seemed that Tommen was something of a coward. That might be something that I could use to our advantage.
That was when Ahmway drew his sword from his scabbard.
Tommen actually let out a quick, alarmed shriek. Rebeka stood her ground, glowering at Ahmway, looking as if she were ready to make a grab for the sword and try to use it against him.
The, to my utter shock, Ahmway reversed the sword so that he was presenting the hilt to Rebeka. She stared at it, not understanding what he was doing.
“I killed your son, yes,” Ahmway said. He was not looking at her; instead his gaze was fixed upon the ground. He had dropped to one knee and was offering her his weapon as if she were a queen. “Had I not done so, my partner would have executed him…and then me as well for failing to follow the law. I killed him because I was a coward and chose to live. And if you wish to execute me now, here is my sword. I will not offer any resistance. Do it.”
She stood there, continuing to gaze at him as if he were some manner of freakish animal that had just dropped from the heavens.
“Do it,” he said again, his voice flat and even.
Rebeka took the sword from his hand then, and I was positive that she was going to use it to kill him. I doubted she had the muscular strength to cut his head off, but she could certainly slay him if she drove the sword right through his back.
I started to say something, started to defend him, but quickly realized there was no point. This was happening because Ahmway wanted it to happen, and it was not my place to intercede.
For a moment I thought Rebeka might turn the sword over to her husband and allow him to dispose of Ahmway, although I very much suspected that his temperament would not permit him to take any sort of action. In that regard I was apparently right because he was just staring at the entire event and not doing anything to take a hand in it.
She drew her arm back and she seemed about to drive the blade downward.
And then she asked the last question I would have expected:
“Are you married?”
He looked up at her, surprised. “No,” he said, his tone of voice clearly indicating that he had no idea why she had asked.
Slowly she lowered the sword. “Find a woman. Get married. Have a child. And when you do, I will find you and execute the child.” She dropped the sword on the ground. “Then we will be even.”
She turned on her heel and strode away. Tommen looked at Ahmway, then after his wife and quickly hurried away after her.
“I doubt she’ll do that,” I said.
Ahmway picked up his sword, stared at it as if contemplating driving it into his own chest, and then sheathed it. “It would not surprise me if she did.”
Truthfully, it would not surprise me, either. I never did find out if she wound up effecting her threat, but if she had, it would certainly not have been unexpected.
There was a large main square in the Shewish section where the people were massing. I could see that Simon had taken the lead in gathering people. He was shouting orders, getting everyone together, and detailing the path that the Shews were going to be taking to get out of Rogypt. Apparently he had the entire route mapped out. The Shews were going to be heading for a region called Samdonia, a forty day’s march through the desert, so everyone had to make sure to have as much as they could carry with them in terms of supplies. Burros were being hooked up to carts that were laden with all manner of dried meats and fruits. The bakers, having no time to leaven their bread, were rushing dozens of pieces of unleavened bread into boxes. I couldn’t imagine who in the world would eat unleavened bread, but it wasn’t my concern.
Then Simon noticed me in the crowd. “Apropos!” he shouted to me as if greeting an old friend. Ahmway and I made our way over to him as he stepped down from the box that he was standing on. To my astonishment, he embraced me. “You did it,” he said. “You got her to free us. I still can’t believe it.”
“I would not keep believing it,” Ahmway spoke up. “Believe me when I tell you that she is not only more than capable of changing her mind, but she likely will do so. The sooner you get out of here, the better.”
“We shall,” said Simon.
And he was as good as his word. As the sun slowly descended toward the horizon, the Shews began to move out.
I moved my way through the crowd to get to the front. People saw me coming and whispered to each other and stepped aside. Clearly I was known and recognized as their savior, and that was perfectly fine with me. If nothing else, by putting myself at the front, I could set the pace since moving over long distances at great speeds was not one of my assets. I drew next to Simon and noticed that there was no sign of Nuskin. “Where is she?” I asked, glancing around.
“She chose not to come,” Simon said. He was clearly not pleased with the decision.
“Why not?”
“Because she said she had nothing to live for.” He shook his head. “I know she raised the boy, but it wasn’t as if she was his mother. Sometimes I do not understand women.”
“Yes, they can be hard to fathom,” I agreed, not bothering to explain to him what was actually going on in Nuskin’s head. It was not my place to tell the story.
We walked through the night since evening was generally the best time to travel through the desert. Initially there was much animated discussion, talk of what would happen with the Shews once the destination was reached, and hopes that they would be able to establish a homeland of their own. There was laughter, there was singing. The children particularly seemed to consider the entire thing a vast adventure.
As time wore on, the voices began to die down as people focused purely on the sheer act of walking and walking.
In the distance, the sun was beginning to crawl into the sky. The sun did not give a damn that the Shews were embarking on a vast exodus from Rogypt. It just knew that it had its own job and it was about time that it attended to it. It continued to climb and provide us a better view of where we were.
To our right stretched a vast body of water that I was told was called the Dread Sea. I had no idea why it had acquired such a fearsome sounding name, and when I inquired, was informed that some noted judge had named it after himself. That certainly seemed reasonable. The sea, as it turned out, was to be our guide to Samdonia. The sea stretched the entire distance and emptied into Samdonia’s port, so all we had to do was walk its distance and we would arrive at our destination.
As the sun continued to crawl higher, Simon called a halt, believing that it was time for us to cease in our perambulation. Tents were quickly pitched and the Shews went about settling in for a lengthy slumber until the evening hours when we would be able to proceed once more.
That was when I heard something.
Not heard actually. More like felt. It seemed as if the ground was vibrating. At first I thought it was the initial effects of some manner of earthquake, but I quickly realized there was a steadiness to it. It was being caused by the pounding of horses’ hooves. Hundreds of horses.
“Something’s wrong,” I said.
Simon heard me, turned toward me with a questioning look. But as it happened, he did not have to ask about specifics, because at that moment several youths came running to the front of the assemblage and there was panic in their eyes. “They’re coming!” the lads shouted. “From behind! The entire Rogyptian army! They’re coming after us!”
“And the queen is in the lead!” said another of them. “In a chariot!”
“She changed her mind,” Ahmway said. “That has to be it. She’s coming to drag you all back.”
There were murmurs of rapidly rising panic among the Shews. Above that, Simon shou
ted, “We will never return! We will fight them!”
“Fight them?” It was Tommen. “They’re armed soldiers! They’ll kill us all! The women, the children—!”
“Better to die free than live slaves!”
The Shews began arguing. I couldn’t believe it. With the Rogyptian army bearing down on them, now was the time for a concerted plan, and instead they were bickering over what to do.
My mind raced desperately. I glanced toward the vast Dread Sea. If there were some way to cross it, then we could get ourselves safely to the other side and have the waters keeping us separated from the Rogyptians. Unfortunately there was no means of creating a division.
And then a completely insane idea came to mind.
I reached into my satchel and extracted the glittering red orb of Moomy. The spirit of Lama was trapped within, and since it was intrinsically a mystic orb, perhaps that meant the power could be wielded. The problem was that I was no weaver, by any means. I knew no spells, could not manipulate powers along the ley lines. The only thing I had going for me was my will power, which was second to none when I was in the right mood. Considering that there were hundreds of Rogyptian soldiers bearing down upon us, I didn’t see how the mood could get more right than that.
What I remembered most were the massive winds that Lama had been able to generate. It was those winds that I decided to try and utilize now.
I shouted above the bickering Shews. “We’re going to flee through the sea! Get everyone ready!”
They stopped arguing, thank the gods, and turned to stare at me in confusion. “We’re going to what?” said Simon.
I did not answer, but instead went straight to the shoreline. I held the gem out in front of me. The brilliant sunlight reflected off it so intensely that it nearly blinded me. I stretched out my arm and whispered to the gem, “Come on, Lama. Do this for me. I saved your life, and it wasn’t for all that long a time, but I did it anyway. Plus right now both of us wants nothing more than to anger your sister, and just imagine what this will wind up doing to her if we all escape.”