by John Migacz
CHAPTER 46
The sun rose, painting pink underbellies on the few strips of clouds. The night’s chill vanished with the light that promised a warm day. Birds and insects welcomed the sun with their song. It was a beautiful day for everyone – except Balthus.
Frustration eroded his patience but he held his tongue. He and Adrianna had saddled all the luses and gotten everyone mounted. He had tried having their charges saddle their own luses, but after a half-hour of instruction and one runaway luse, he found it easier to do it himself. Balthus had passed out iron bowl helmets for each novice rider. He thought it might help if – no, make that when – one of them hit the ground.
“All right,” said Balthus. “I will be taking take the lead, then Rory, Janelle and Bo. Adrianna is rear guard, and will mind the spares and pack luses.” He checked each rider’s stirrup length. “Remember, if you want him to go right, gently pull his head to the right with the reins and push in with your left leg. He will try to move away from the pressure of your leg. Don’t leave the pressure on or he will start to ignore that signal. To stop, pull back gently.”
Balthus mounted his own luse. “We will start at a walk.” He trotted to the front of the line and the group moved forward. Reining his luse to the side, he let them pass and watched their bearing. He kicked his luse and rode next to Janelle.
“Sit up straight, Janelle. Pretend you are the queen, passing in review for the peasants.”
Janelle straightened.
“Don’t put your entire foot in the stirrup, just rest the ball of your foot on it and push out till your toes point slightly up. That pushes you back in the saddle and makes it tougher to lose your seat.”
“This is rather pleasant,” said Janelle. “It was a little intimidating at first due to the very size of this animal, but I feel at ease.”
“And it’s better than walking,” he added.
Balthus reined up until Adrianna drew abreast. “I will scout on ahead for a little bit and then we’ll try these folks with a little trot.” He spurred his luse and soon disappeared from sight.
Balthus came loping back minutes later and gave Adrianna an “all clear” sign. When the trail opened to a small meadow, Balthus rode down the line. “All right, my friends. The best way to make time on a journey like this is to mix up the four gaits of your luse. Let’s try a trot. Now kick the sides of your luse gently, then harder, until he breaks into a trot.”
The trio followed his instructions and within moments were scattered all over the meadow. “Keep control, don’t give them their head!” shouted Balthus. “Rory, grip with your knees! Janelle, don’t hawser the reins like that! Don’t – ah, I give up.”
Janelle’s insides were jarring and her eyeballs felt like they would shake loose. She thought something must be terribly wrong. She yanked back on the reins. The luse stopped and tried to back up, eventually turning in a half circle. She tugged until he faced the proper direction, held her breath and kicked him again. She used her reins to bring the animal near Adrianna.
Bo and Rory had better luck. They had turned their animals and were returning to the line.
“Good!” said Balthus as he rode up next to Janelle. “When you need a break, sing out and we’ll drop to a walk.” He spurred his luse and regained the head of the column. Janelle was beginning to wonder how long she could keep this up when Balthus’ loud voice sang out.
“First time on a luse is a desperate dance,
trying to stay on by the seat of your pants.
Think what it’s like to carry a lance,
In service to the King.
The nasty beast will trod on your toe.
He’s certain to give you nothing but woe.
The pain in your thighs you’ll want to forego,
In service to the King.”
She tried to concentrate on the lyrics, which grew bawdier by the stanza. By the thirtieth or so, she could take no more. “Balthus!” she yelled, voice quivering. “Can we stop?”
Balthus turned and rode back down the line. “Walk them, walk,” he said as he passed each rider. He reined in next to Janelle.
“My dear!” With a hand over his heart he feigned a shocked look. “When you said ‘stop,’ I hope you meant the trot. I would hate to think you were referring to my singing.”
She laughed at his pained expression. “No, I meant the trot,” she said, grateful to stop bouncing. “Although, in your last stanza, the description of the young lady’s position could scarcely be possible on luseback.”
He scratched his beard, remembering the line. “No, no,” he said, looking back at Adrianna with a grin, “it’s totally possible.” He gave Janelle a wink and spurred his luse. He reined in as he came abreast of Rory. “How goes it?” asked Balthus.
“All right. I think I’m getting the hang of flowing with the luse’s motion. But it feels like I’ve been spanked hard for an hour.” Rory grinned, as did Balthus.
“I know a woman in Freetown who will do that for you, if you’d like. I hear it’s more fun than the first time on a luse,” said Balthus with a chuckle. “Tell you what. If you think you can do it, pull your axe out and give it here.”
At a walk, Rory had no problem unhooking the battleaxe at his belt. He handed it over. Balthus swung the axe, crossing over the luse’s head and down each flank, making figure-eights. He handed the axe back to Rory. “Practice that while we walk the luses. There is nothing so unnerving as a man charging you on luseback swinging a battleaxe. It’s a good way to break up infantry formations.”
“I can believe that,” said Rory taking a practice swing.
Balthus moved ahead a few yards then called back over his shoulder, “And Rory, don’t cut off your luse’s head. No matter how much you may want to.” Balthus broke into a lope and joined Bo, who was doing figure-eights with his sword, having seen Rory’s instruction. “You learn fast, Bo,” said Balthus. “But you must keep the point of your sword up more on the backhand. The first time your arm grows tired, you’ll lop off your mount’s ears and the bridle will slide off.”
Balthus signaled Adrianna that he was going to scout and rode off.
Adrianna watched him ride away, smiling at how much patience he had training people on luses. She recalled Rolf’s story of the Battle of Sumtra during the Border Wars. All through the campaign Balthus favored riding a particular black stallion he had named “Darkness,” and was very smug about his riding ability.
The Battle of Sumtra was hard fought and the turning point of the Kyndian incursion. Veterans of the border war always asked one another if they were at Sumtra and used the reply as a measuring stick for bravery. Balthus was to lead the charge that broke the Kyndians that day, but as he waved his sword and yelled “Charge!” his stallion chose that moment to buck mightily, launching him ten feet into the air. Balthus broke his arm in the fall. She imagined his face as his men and riderless luse carried the day with Balthus running to catch up. By the time he arrived at the fight, it was all over. He was even more embarrassed when he was awarded the “Protector of the Realm” medal for his leadership and injuries received that day. Ever since, Balthus was less critical of another’s ability on luseback, and he never, ever, rode a black stallion again.
Balthus rode back to Adrianna. “At this rate we won’t be there until winter,” he said, reining up. “Any ideas?”
“The only thing we can do is push them a little harder and hope to make it up as they develop a better seat.”
Balthus nodded. “Did you bring any ‘Granny’s Helper’?” he asked.
“Yes. When Dieya broached his favor it was the first thing I thought of for some reason.”
“Good, then I’ll up the pace,” he said. “Bring them to a trot again!” he yelled as he rode past the trio.
They rode for several hours through sparse forest and the day warmed. At noon, they stopped by
a stream and all gulped water like the luses. Balthus passed out a lunch of hardbread and smoked meat but only he and Adrianna sat down.
“How are we all doing?” asked Balthus.
“Well,” said Bo, rubbing his backside, “my butt is sore.”
Rory nodded in agreement.
“I don’t even want to think about it or I will never get back on that animal,” said Janelle.
When they finished eating, Balthus roamed the stream bed and gathered several egg-sized stones, putting them in a pouch at his waist.
“What are the rocks for?” asked Janelle.
“Dinner,” said Balthus.
“We’re going to eat rocks?”
Balthus smiled and ignored her question. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but let us mount up before we get too stiff.”
“You never complained about that before,” teased Adrianna.
“I use the kingly ‘we,’ my dear, and you never complained either.” He eyed the trio. “All right folks. Let’s have at it,” he said loudly over the groans.
They rode at a little faster pace, trotting across meadows and walking down forested paths. It was well past midday when they emerged from a trail into a large grassy meadow filled with fluttering blue butterflies. Balthus rode through the meadow in a looping pattern, butterflies fleeing before him.
“Chasing butterflies, Balthus?” yelled Bo.
At that moment Balthus surprised several alarats that broke into flight. With three quick throws he brought down two birds. “Yep,” he hollered as he dismounted. Balthus tied the birds to his saddle and continued his looping as they trotted across the meadow.
There were two hours of daylight left when Balthus called a halt for the night. It was long before he normally would, but he had found a good place to camp and felt the trio needed the rest. The campsite had a U-shaped stand of sheltering evergreen trees and a nearby stream that gathered at the base of a rock, forming a small pool. He thought the trio might appreciate a soak after the hot ride. He dismounted, tied his luse to a tree and waited for the others to enter the copse. He stood by to help as each dismounted. He had pushed them hard for the first day and he knew they would be tired and sore. Bo and Rory were all right, just staggering a bit, but Balthus had to catch Janelle as she slid to the ground, almost going to her knees.
“Walking will help, Lass,” he said, steadying her. “Keep moving for a bit before you sit down.”
“I’ll never be able to sit down again,” she moaned. He helped walk her around until she was able to stand by herself.
“You’ve all done very well today,” said Balthus in an encouraging voice. “If I were your mother, I would be proud.”
“I though you were our mother,” said Bo.
“Yes,” said Rory with a snort, “he’s a mother all right.”
“You folks rest and we’ll take care of dinner,” said Balthus. He hauled down six alarats hanging from his saddle. “All you have to do is pluck these birds and I’ll get a fire going. There’s one for each of us.”
“But there are six,” said Bo.
“Aye, we’ll have a race to see who gets to eat the last one – a luse race.” He grinned at the chorus of moans and refusals. “Well then, since there are no takers, I guess I’ll have it. Adrianna,” he said, turning to her, “we have time for fresh bread if you’d like.”
“I’d like it – and I’d like you to make it,” she said.
“I’ll get my baker’s hat on, quick-like.”
Balthus was a bustle of activity as he set up camp and prepared dinner. He encouraged his charges to continue to move about so they didn’t stiffen up. Bo and Rory were in better condition than Janelle and gathered wood and helped pluck the birds – Janelle spent the time looking miserable.
Balthus buried a small oven in the fire pit, covered it with dry evergreen needles, and started a fire over it. He placed a large kettle of water near it to heat then cut some green branches. He handed them to Bo who was sitting by the fire.
“Take your belt knife and smooth these down, if you please,” asked Balthus. “Spits for the birds,” he explained.
Bo’s eyes widened with inspiration. “Why don’t we use your extra swords as spits,” he said.
Pain flashed over Balthus’ face. “Hand me one of those sticks, boy,” said Balthus. “No, the larger one.”
Balthus received the hiclam stick and whacked Bo solidly on the helmet with it. “Stick a sword in a fire?” he yelled and handed back the stick. “Are you crazed? It doesn’t take much to lose the temper in a sword, and using it as a spit would kill it. ‘Take care of your weapon and it will take care of you!’” admonished Balthus.
Rory laughed and pounded his fist on his knee. “The more things change, the more they remain the same,” chuckled Rory. “I bet you’ve heard Balthus’ axiom before, eh Lancelead?”
Bo shook his head and sighed.
Balthus gathered the water bottles and walked toward the stream. Lancelead? Another title? These folks were certainly a puzzle – but he liked puzzles.
Adrianna was rubbing down the luses with dried grass as Balthus walked back with full water bottles. “How are you doing, Love?” he asked.
“Good,” she nodded. “I miss you, way up in front all day.” She lifted a mare’s leg and cleaned the toes with a small brush.
“Tomorrow you can take lead and I’ll be rear guard,” he said. “I never grow tired of looking at you coming or going.”
Adrianna smiled. “Have you discovered anything new about our friends?”
“Have you ever heard the word ‘Lancelead’?”
She shook her head.
“Rory called Bo that, and it sounded like a title.” Balthus glanced back to the campsite. “The more I watch the two men, the more convinced I am that they are soldiers of some sort, with Bo holding a higher rank. Possibly a noble’s son. Rory is clearly the most experienced, and wears several scars on his body. He has a recent injury to his right arm.” He raised a finger and his eyes narrowed. “You know, I have been thinking about those scars since I helped him dress yesterday. I didn’t give it much thought at first – fighting men have scars aplenty. But today I realized that they look to be made by fire, not a blade.”
“People have burn scars,” she said in almost a whisper. She paid closer attention to the luse she was tending.
“No Lass, not like yours.” He grabbed her from behind and whispered in her ear. “Besides, you know you are the most beautiful woman in the world.” He stepped back and slapped her bottom as she laughed.
“No, I’m talking about small burns, one through the right thigh and one alongside his left rib. They look as though they might have been made with a small, red-hot poker.” As he stroked his beard in thought, a flash of insight popped his eyes wide. “Yes! A red-hot poker – or possibly a red beam of light like the Baron’s!” he said, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Adrianna stopped brushing the luse and stared at him. “But you saw what the red beam did to Estagon. The same would happen to Rory.”
Balthus shrugged. “True… Perhaps there is armor that weakens the red beam. Or perhaps –”
“Or perhaps we can rein in your imagination until we get more facts.”
Shock crossed his face. “Sweetheart! You know I never let facts get in the way of my beliefs.” He looked distracted for a moment then a sly smile grew on his face. “Perhaps there is a way to test our companions.”
Adrianna pursued his statement, but he just smiled and wouldn’t say more. They finished grooming the luses and returned to the trio.
Balthus tested the heating water with his finger and nodded. He folded a small woolen blanket into a square and placed it into the kettle. Opening a corked glass vial, he added a quarter of its ingredients to the hot water. An unpleasant odor permeated the camp.
“If that’s your idea of d
inner, I’ll beg off,” said Janelle.
Balthus spread another blanket in front of a tall rock and motioned to Janelle. “Come over here and pull down your trousers.”
“I will not!” Outrage reddened her face.
“Go ahead,” said Adrianna, with an amused grin. “I guarantee it will feel good.”
Looking skeptical, Janelle approached Balthus slowly. He handed her another blanket. “Wrap this around you first – it will help with your modesty.” He winked.
While she did, Balthus reached into the pot, pulled out the soggy blanket and wrung out a little of the water. “Sit on this hot blanket,” he said. “Try to get some of it up between your thighs.”
She found it difficult to get the wet blanket in place and still hold up the modesty blanket.
“Need help?” asked Balthus with a gigantic leer.
“That’s all right, I’ll manage,” said Janelle. She got it all arranged and sat gingerly on the hot towel. It was only moments before an “Ah” popped out of her mouth and a smile lit her face.
“Told you you’d love it,” said Adrianna.
“What is this stuff I’m sitting in?” asked Janelle.
“It’s a liniment called ‘Granny’s Helper,’” said Balthus. “The stuff works miracles.”
“Will it help me ride better?” she asked with a sigh.
Balthus paused for a moment. “Yes, it will. It will allow you to get back on the beast, and that’s the only way anyone gets better.”
He turned to the men. “All right Lads, how about a little weapons training while we’re waiting for supper?” He was greeted with groans, but both men rose and followed Balthus to an open area.
Adrianna turned the birds and placed a pot of chail in the fire. “How are you doing?” she asked Janelle.
“Wonderfully – now. Granny’s Helper seems to have numbed my butt totally. That’s just what I needed.”
“When you need it reheated let me know. After your soak, there is a pool of sorts back behind the trees. It’s the second half of the treatment.”
“You two are taking great care of us. For what it’s worth, I’ll be sure to mention it to the Dieya.” She thought a moment. “Speaking of the Dieya, do you happen to know his name?”
Adrianna shook her head. So, the term “Dieya” was a title. She looked back at Janelle who sat with a slight smile and a faraway look. Adrianna could see Janelle’s attraction. The Sorcerer was a charismatic person. Perhaps she could use that somehow. She would give it some thought.
“Good,” said Balthus as Bo blocked his attack. Balthus lowered his sword and glanced at the setting sun. “You’ve both done well. Now it’s time to clean up and eat.”
They strolled back toward the campsite and Balthus studied his charges. The strain of the day showed on both men’s faces. They might be in top condition, but forcing muscles to do what they weren’t accustomed to had worn them down. “You boys go ease your tired bodies with a little bath,” said Balthus. He eyed the cooking birds. “You’ll have enough time before supper.”
The men went off to the pool and Balthus approached the fire. Janelle had already taken her bath and was drying her hair by the flames.
“Granny’s Helper is a miracle,” said Janelle. “I don’t dread getting on that luse tomorrow half as much as I did. I would love to know the ingredients.”
“Ha! So would many people,” said Balthus. “The family that prepares it guards that secret closely. There was a story told that one of their workers quit them to start up his own bottling works, having stolen the secret. He was found one morning floating face down in the river.” Balthus grimaced. “Being a merchant is a dangerous business.”
“Really?” asked Janelle.
“Yes. It would kill me!” Balthus laughed heartily at his own humor.
Rory and Bo returned shortly looking a bit more refreshed.
“Good timing men, all is ready.” Adrianna scraped away the coals with a stick and Balthus pulled the oven from the fire. He removed the lid and the sweet smell of warm bread filled the air. “Ah,” said Balthus. He blew on his fingers then squeezed the bread. “Perfect!”
He handed each person a spitted bird and a hunk of bread and all fell to with vigor. Balthus took a pull from a wineskin, then passed it around.
Balthus talked all through dinner, telling stories and musing on life in general. He judged the sleepy, contented countenance on the faces of the trio and steered the conversation to warfare.
“…yes, coming face to face with a man who knows how to use an axe well, or a very fast man with a rapier, now that can inspire your sphincter to tighten,” he said. He rubbed his eye with his pinky, the “watch carefully” signal. “The instant you realize your foe is better than you, and will probably kill you, can be a frightening moment.”
“Have you ever faced such an opponent?” asked Bo.
Balthus glanced at Adrianna, she held her hand in the “ready” position. “Aye, that I have Lad,” he said, nodding. “’Twas just last month – when I faced the Krill.”
The trio jerked upright from their slouched positions, surprise filled their faces, and their questions spilled out in a rush.
“You faced a Kraken Krill and beat him?” asked Bo, his voice laced with astonishment.
“Not possible with these ancient weapons!” blurted Rory.
“The Dieya mentioned Kraken interference – a Krill was on this planet?” asked Janelle.
Balthus held up his hands. “Nay, I didn’t kill it! Adrianna distracted it, and I ran like hell. Dieya killed it. Burned it to an ash, I’m glad to say.”
Balthus rose, stretching and groaning before they could ask any more questions. “Come Adrianna, I’m sure the stink from these lads has left the pool. Let us bathe. You can scrub my back and I will scrub yours,” he said with a wink. He reached out for Adrianna’s hand and they walked away.
“Damn!” said Rory when Balthus and Adrianna were out of sight.
“Was that an accident, or were we just sandbagged?” asked Bo.
“I don’t think it matters,” said Janelle. “Obviously they know more than they’re letting on. Neither one of them so much as blinked at our outburst.” She shrugged. “Perhaps the Dieya has taken them into his confidence. It’s possible they know the whole story but don’t want us to know that they know. I’m not sure how tight non-disclosure commands are. Perhaps the Dieya can take people into his trust – he does have total planetary control.”
“You know,” said Rory, as he gazed into the fire, “once, when I was stationed on Malthenia Prime, I got into a card game with a professional jeta player. I didn’t know he was a professional at the time, of course. Anyway, it all came down to the last hand. I showed my three stars, and reached for the pot when he plunked down his full squadron. I remember having the feeling that I had been maneuvered into that position from the start of the game.” He looked toward the pool. “I have that same feeling now.”
Balthus rubbed Adrianna’s back with soap as she sat in front of him. The water was getting colder as night fell, but was still refreshing after the day’s ride.
“Masterfully done, Balthus. Masterfully done,” she said.
“Aye, soaping a lovely lady’s back is one of my many skills.”
She splashed water at him and turned. “You know what I mean. Waiting until they were all tired and full, with your voice droning at them all through supper. Then wham! They never knew what hit them.”
“Droning?”
“We have learned much tonight,” she said.
Balthus nodded. “Yes, but I think I learned more than I bargained for. I don’t know – the things they said tonight make me shiver. It’s hard to get my mind around it.”
“Me too,” she agreed. “Janelle said ‘this planet.’ That indicates that there are other inhabited worlds. That fact alone is stunning, but it
fits in with what I have felt from the beginning – these folks just aren’t from around here.” She looked at the sky. “And their home could be very far away, indeed.”
“It makes all those old legends about Travelers from other worlds seem possible,” he replied.
“Yes. Legends usually do have some kernel of truth to them.”
“Aye,” said Balthus. His neck craned skyward, as if searching for an enemy. “Thinking there might be others on one of those points of light up there makes me feel insecure, like they have the high ground.”
“Rory said ‘ancient weapons,’ meaning they have something much better,” said Adrianna. “I wonder if Dieya’s magic staff is only a weapon that has a burning beam.”
Balthus sighed, then closed his eyes. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”
Both became silent, trying to get a handle on their new concept of the world, a world that had suddenly taken a gigantic leap to include the stars.
Balthus inhaled deeply and hugged Adrianna. “Well, at least we now have a name for our enemy,” he said, once more looking up at the stars. “The Kraken.”