Authors: Tonya R. Carter,Paul B. Thompson
Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Role Playing & Fantasy, #Games
In the trailing cart, the thief, not enjoying the cold or the snow, was swathed in all the free blankets. He growled and cracked his switch in the air. ""Vbu see, we are a happy band," said Marix.
Elperex skipped back to the ox's neck. He sat there, wings slightly spread, as the snow blew gently over him. Jadira slouched down in the seat again and drifted back into the arms of the god of sleep.
The slant changed. From tilting back, the cart now tilted forward. Some time in the night, when everyone save Elperex was asleep, they had crossed the highest point of Mount Bakesh and were descending to the plains of Kaipur. Jadira jumped from the cart and waited for the second vehicle to lurch by. She grabbed the bench, stepped on the trace pole, and swung up beside Uramettu.
"Good morning," Uramettu said. "Breakfast?" she added, offering Jadira an orange.
"Thank you." She glanced at Nabul, who was curled up atop his beloved hoard of gold. "Any problems?" she asked.
"Not any worth speaking of. Compared to our early days together, this is a pleasure ride, my sister."
Jadira agreed. She split her orange in two and gave half to Uramettu. "It has been a remarkable journey," she said.
"It is not over yet."
"Oh, perhaps not in terms of time, but all the real obstacles have been overcome. What remains are merely leagues to cover in the allotted time," Jadira said.
"I hope my sister is right." Uramettu bit into her orange.
"You're very thoughtful this morning," Jadira said. "Does something trouble you?"
"I was thinking of the season. In Fedush, this is the time of greening, when the rain stops and everything begins to grow. The impala have calved, the buffalo herds return to the savannah, and Ronta is abroad by night."
"Your panther-god?"
"Yes. It is in this season that we who know Ronta are guided in our selection of a mate."
Jadira began to understand. "Do the panther-folk
mate with each other?" she asked.
"No, not ever. The men choose from the young maidens of the village. Then I am allowed a choice of men, something most women in Fedush do not get."
Jadira said, "I know well what you mean. It is much the same with the Sudiin." She checked herself. "Was;
was
much the same ..."
The trail flattened out to a small plateau. The mountain fell sharply away, so the view from the plateau was far-ranging. Marix halted the first cart. He and Tamakh got out. Uramettu stopped her ox, and she and Jadira hopped out of their cart.
"There lies the domain of Capzan, lord of the city of Sivan," said Marix, sweeping his arm to the south. "Northward is the territory of Tedwin the Lame, master of Maridanta. In the center, nearer the sea, is the province of Lord Hurgold."
"Will anyone contest our way?" said Tamakh.
Marix shrugged. "It has been so long since I was here, I know little of the local situation. Baron Capzan covets the grazing land owned by Lord Hurgold, just as Count Tedwin wishes to add my lord's watershed to his domain." He surveyed the ridge of mountains glowering above them. "The place where Sir Kannal's party was ambushed is north of here. We will need to enter Tedwin's realm."
Clouds chased across the sky, throwing huge shadows on the plain below. Jadira admired the lush green grassland, but wondered in her heart if it was truly worth the lives of so many men.
The trail down the plateau was even more precipitous than the track down the mountain. The donkeys managed well enough; Marix staked them in a thicket at the foot of the grade. Above, everyone studied the steep path before them.
"The stupid gnoles built carts without brakes," said Nabul. "So how do we get them down there without crashing?"
"Perhaps if we used both oxen to steady each cart?" lamakh offered.
Uramettu shook her head. "The track is not wide enough for both beasts to go abreast. And placing them one behind the other won't do; the lead ox will drag the second in the dirt."
" If the second doesn' t trample the leader first,'' Jadira added.
"What, then, do we do?" asked Nabul.
Marix appeared at the bottom of the hill. He practically had to go on his hands and knees to get up the incline. By the time he reached the carts, he was panting.
"We'll have to put drag lines on the carts," he said. "Each of us will hold on and steady it on the way down."
"And I?" asked Elperex from under his shading blanket.
"You steer the bullock," Marix said. Uramettu picked up the 'strelli and placed him on the ox's neck. With his bony hands and long switch, Elperex looked like a minion of the demon-king Dutu, ready to steal the ox for his master.
They tied ropes to the axles and traces. Everyone took a place on the ropes, even Tamakh. Jadira eyed him. "Are you well enough for this, Holy One?" she said.
He touched his wounded side gingerly. "I can but try," he replied. "Too long have I lain fallow, letting my friends bear the burden alone." He grasped a length of coarse rope. "I am ready."
"Elperex!" Marix called. "Keep the beast straight!"
"That I will, walking friend." He cooed a soothing note in the ox's ear. "Good beast; gentle beast. Hold to the center of the path."
"Do you think it understands?" muttered Nabul.
"Pray that it does," replied Uramettu.
"Go!"
"Chee-ratata!"
The 'strelli's voice chimed like a glass bell. The ox lumbered forward, swaying from side to side on its thick legs. The cart slipped, the leather straps of the harness bumping the ox's hindquarters. The companions leaned against the pull. With each turn of the wheels, their feet skidded in the dirt.
"Someone should make a wagon that moves itself," said Nabul through gritted teeth.
"Absurd," said Uramettu. Tendons stood out in her dark skin and a fierce determination clouded her face. "What would happen to all the draft animals?"
"Eat 'em," grunted the thief.
They wrestled the cart to the foot of the hill. After a short respite, they started back for the second cart. Elperex clung to Jadira's back until she stopped by the second ox's head, where he hopped off. When the ropes were in place, the same struggle began again.
The cart crept forward a bit. The pull was so strong Nabul was snapped off his feet. He dropped the rope and stood up. "Did you feel that?" he said.
"It's the treasure," said Marix. "There must be thrice-a-hundredweight in the bottom of that cart."
"Let's take some out," saidjadira.
"We're not leaving it behind!" objected Nabul.
"No, certainly not; but it will be safer if we take some out before we go," said Marix.
When he heard the word "go," Elperex urged the ox into motion. The cart moved, snatching the restraining ropes from their hands. As one, they cried
"Stop!"
but
the momentum was too much for Elperex and the ox. The cart bore down on the plodding animal, shoving it out of the way. The ox turned, the trace poles snapped, and the gold-laden cart somersaulted end over end. Cascades of gold and jewels showered the road, spilling off the edges and ringing down the rocky slope. They watched open-mouthed as the wealth of a great king scattered like chaff. At the end, the tumbling cart rolled off the road and smashed to bits in the ravine below the trail.
"Well," said Jadira at last, "at least it didn't strike the other cart."
Marix's gaping mouth shut with a snap. Beside him, Nabul sagged to his knees. He bowed his face to the dirt and smote the ground with his fists. "Never, never, never! " he said with genuine anguish. "Am I never to have the riches I deserve? Curse you gods, who let me see such wealth but never let me possess it!"
"Don't blaspheme!" said Tamakh, shocked.
"I don't care! Let them strike me dead—it could hardly hurt more than this repeated torment by treasure!"
Elperex herded the ox to them and stopped. He peeked cautiously out from under his hood. "You are angry with Elperex?" he said.
"I'd like to wring your scrawny neck!" Nabul sobbed. The 'strelli closed'the blanket over his head.
"Stop it," said Jadira. "Stop crying, Nabul, and get up." The thief rose disconsolately to his feet. "Elperex will pick up as much of the treasure as he can."
"That could take days!" said Marix. She shot a warning glance at him.
"Take one candle-notch," said Jadira. "Then we have to move on."
Elperex hopped down from the ox and began filtering through handfuls of dirt for coins and gems. He dropped any he found in the bottom of his blanket. Nabul watched him wordlessly for a while, then also started searching. Marix joined him. Soon, Uramettu was using her long arms to comb the hillside above the road.
Jadira looked at Tamakh. The priest tightened his sash and lowered himself carefully to his knees. "you, too, Holy One?" asked Jadira.
" 'Even in the dross of the road shall you find treasure.' So said the holy Agopa, in his Fourth Admonition to the Neophytes." The twinkle had returned to his eyes for the first time since his wounding.
"Wise man, this Agopa," said Jadira. She lifted the hem of her robe and knelt, filling her fingers with dirt.
The plain was covered with chest-high grass that bowed and swayed in the lightest breeze. The party followed behind the ox cart, allowing it to break a path through the lush field. Elperex was in his daylight stupor in the back of the cart, so Nabul sat on the bench tending the ox. The beast insisted on stopping every few steps to sample the abundant provender. Nabul whacked its hide repeatedly, but the animal would proceed only when it had swallowed several mouthfuls of fodder.
Jadira slogged along. The turf underfoot was spongy, and the grass roots were thick and clinging. More than once, she, Marix, and Tamakh went sprawling when the earth refused to release their feet.
Uramettu strode ahead. This was her element; the plains of Fedush were oceans of grass. Her pleasure in this new country increased with every step she made. Finally, she raised her spear point high in the air and began to sing.
The others perked up. Uramettu's speaking voice was a warm contralto, but her singing range was higher and lighter. She finished three verses of a Fedushite song. Jadira called out, "That's beautiful. What does it mean?"
Uramettu paused and turned back. "That is the grain-gather song," she said. "The women of my country sing in the fields."
"Your women tend the crops?" asked Marix.
"They do. Men hunt the game, and our women grow barley."
"What do the words mean?" Jadira asked again.
Uramettu translated:
Go to the fields, sisters, Go to the fields. Gather the grain, sisters. And bring it home.
Trod down the stalks, sisters, Trod down the stalks. Gather the grain, sisters, And bring it home.
Take up the heads, sisters, Take up the heads. Fill up your baskets, sisters, And bring them home.
"There are many verses," she said, breaking off. "Clever singers make them up as they work."
Jadira hummed the tune. "It has a good rhythm for working." She imagined the plain worked by women like Uramettu—tall, graceful black women cutting and picking to the steady beat of the grain-gather song.
"Sing some more," said Tamakh.
"Yes, please," saidjadira. "It will ease our task."
Uramettu hummed through one verse, thinking. Then, she cleared her throat and sang
Follow my steps, comrades, Follow my steps. We will be free, comrades, When we get home.
The grassland was bordered by a wide, shallow stream running north to south. They decided to water the oxen and donkeys before going on. While the beasts dropped their muzzles in the cold stream, the companions spread out on the bank and the flat boulders that protruded from the water.
"Cheer up, you old city rat," said Marix to Nabul. "We saved quite a lot of treasure, you know."
"Barely half a hundredweight," said Nabul. He threw a stone in the water. "Not enough to live on in the splendor I was dreaming of."
"What do you want, a palace? Slaves to feed you, sycophants to praise you, harem-girls to—?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I want!"
"He wants to be sultan," said Tamakh.
"I can think of worse things to be," said Nabul. "Poor, for one."
Uramettu swirled her bare toe in the water. "I saw Sultan Julmet several times. He would stroll through the Garden of Beasts now and then, trailed by advisors and favor-seekers, attended by concubines, doctors, soldiers, and priests of the official cults. I doubt he ever had a moment to himself, and he looked strained and sick all the time."
"Good," said Jadira. "I wish him boils and a flux to burn his entrails."
Her bad wishes, expressed with such firm conviction, stifled the flow of talk. The sighing grass and effervescent water wrapped around them like soft raiments, comforting each of them as no words could.
Jadira would not be comforted. She jumped to her feet. "Your song was wrong, Uramettu," she said. "I'll never be free, for I have no home to return to."