Sword Empire (19 page)

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Authors: Robert Leader

BOOK: Sword Empire
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Her lips moved, but made no sound as the words flowed in her mind. For the moment, her own situation was not her priority. First she had to make herself right with the gods, to recite their praises and to beg their forgiveness, and then it was imperative to pray for all those she had loved in the world she had left behind, and finally for all of Karakhor in its hour of greatest need against Maghalla. Without her becoming aware of it, the quick rush of her thoughts slowly became an audible murmur.

“What are you doing?”

The words startled her, and her eyes snapped open and her head flicked round to find Taron standing uncertainly beside her. He was gazing down at her as though she had taken leave of her senses.

“I was—” She hesitated, for as far as she knew there was no word for prayer in the Gheddan language. “I was speaking to—” Again she faltered, for she did not know how to express the concept of the gods either.

Baffled, Taron still waited. By now, Garl and Raven were also awake, both of them observing her curiously as they each propped themselves half up on one elbow.

“I was speaking to Agni.” Maryam explained as well as she was able. “Agni resides in the flames. Agni is the messenger for all the—all the others. Agni will carry all my words to Indra and Varuna, the Great Ones who dwell in the Sky.”

Taron stared at her, his face still blank and uncomprehending. Then he made a slight, scornful shrug of his shoulders and wandered back to his post. Maryam heard Garl chuckle with laughter.

Suddenly Maryam was furious. She jumped to her feet, ran to the pile of dead branches that lay ready to feed the fire, and hurled them all onto the blaze. The flames roared up, the volatile sap exploded and the night rained bright sparks that flared over all their heads. As the fire continued to spit and crackle, Maryam stood close enough for the heat to scorch her face. She threw up both arms, stretching herself upward to make herself as tall as possible. Now she prayed aloud, the words pouring out of her in a defiant torrent, careless of the fact that only the gods themselves would understand. She shouted the names of the deities loud and clear, for she no longer cared for ignorant opinions of the three soul-blind and stupid blue men who were her companions.

Taron and Garl could only stare at her, still totally at a loss. However, there was a half smile on Raven's lips. He too could not understand anything of her passionate outflow of words, nor her needs or her actions, but he did admire the fire in her spirit.

 

 

 

The dominant bull among the fifteen-strong group of large anthropoid apes that had silently been creeping closer to the strange man smell and the circle of firelight was startled when the flames popped and burst. The bang and the sudden flare of light and the loud, angry cries of the female man-thing caused him to freeze in his approach. The tight black skin wrinkled over his prominent bone ledge of brow, his black eyes blinked, and his broad nostrils flared with alarm. His red gums bared in a silent snarl, the sharp white, meat-chopping teeth gleaming in the white flash of fur around his curled back lips. It was that white lower face in an otherwise totally black, coarse-haired body which gave the Whitejaw apes their name.

The big bull ape was wary and unsettled now, for despite his massive skull size the brain contained within was relatively small and undeveloped. The two sub-dominant bulls behind him had also stopped to await his lead. The females who formed the rest of the group followed suit. For all their great bulk they were stealthy animals, slow and unhurried until the final moments of attack. The lead bull lowered himself onto his knuckles and then squatted to wait and watch.

 

 

 

When she had concluded her obeisance to her own satisfaction, Maryam returned to Raven's side and lay down to feign sleep. Eventually weariness did overwhelm her, and when she awoke it was dawn again. The light was just breaking over the river. Garl and Taron were both still asleep, and Raven was taking the last watch.

Her bladder was painfully full, and emerging from her furs she rose quietly to her feet. Raven glanced at her and smiled briefly, but said nothing. Maryam hurried into the trees until she was just out of sight, paused to look carefully all around, and then went about her business. She had seen nothing to alarm her, but even so she did not intend to linger any longer than was absolutely necessary.

 

The dominant Whitejaw bull had squinted skyward as the dawn light brightened. The retreat of darkness and the thick shadows was almost a signal for him to also withdraw, and yet still he had hesitated. Some instinct in that small brain had warned him that the strange man-things could be dangerous, and that same instinct had warned him that they were alert. One of them was always standing guard, as a good bull should.

There was a slow but determined conflict taking place behind that solid wall of bone beneath the wrinkled black brows. In one corner was the tiny, warning voice of instinct, and in the other all the brute pride and arrogance which made him the dominant male. This was his territory and he could not afford to show weakness. If he did not drive off these hairless blue invaders then more might come. Or, an even more troubling scenario, one of the sub-dominant bulls might see his failing as a sign of weakening strength and purpose. Then he would be challenged for his right to leadership, and his first breeding rights with his females. He had led the group here to defend his territory, and to demonstrate his continuing rights and powers. Part of him now wanted to back off, and yet he could not.

Dawn was his decision time, and he had inched closer. The others were tense now, anticipating his signal. And then the brown female had left the dying fire circle and walked directly toward him.

The big bull had crouched low, peering through a curtain of leaves. He saw the woman stop and squat, and then the slight breeze brought him the scent of her urine. It was a sexual smell, stimulating and tempting. The bull ape understood. The female was vulnerable. She could be caught off guard. He opened his mouth in a fearsome roar and charged.

Maryam fell over backward as the black monster erupted upward out of the undergrowth and hurtled toward her. Its long, powerful arms were stretched out to seize her, but she saw only the hot black eyes and the slavering white jaws which seemed to fill the whole lower half of the animal's face. In that horrifying second, the eyes reminded her of Sardar the Merciless and she screamed her terror.

Raven stepped up behind her, his right arm extended and leveled, and his hand lazer gripped firmly in his fist. He fired one short burst and there was the soft hiss of burning fur, flesh and bone, as the white beam drilled the creature neatly between the eyes. The bull ape was towering over Maryam, almost twice her height and within inches of tearing her head from her shoulders, and then it stopped as though it had crashed full tilt into a wall of solid rock. For a moment it seemed to hang suspended in the air above her, and then it was thrown abruptly backward. The tiny brain was boiled into a soft mush and the dominant bull was dead before it hit the ground.

The rest of the group had charged in a screaming mass attack in the same moment. Maryam saw at least a dozen of the fearsome animals bearing down upon them and screamed again. Raven shot two more with quick flashes of brilliant light from his lazer, and then Taron and Garl were running up behind him. They, too, opened fire with their hand-held lazers. Twice more the deadly white beams lanced forth. Two more of the screaming apes went down, and the air was filled with the stench of the hot burn wounds.

One of the sub-dominant bulls was now down, and three of the females. The apes slowed and backed off, snarling and furious, but suddenly afraid. The last surviving bull realized that he now stood alone. He reared up to his full height and beat upon his massive gorilla chest with his balled fists, a savage drumming sound that was echoed by a series of monstrous roars, but even as he demonstrated his defiance he was still retreating. The females broke and fled into the forest. The new dominant bull kept up his show for a few moments longer, and then he too turned and dropped onto his knuckles to lope quickly away into the trees and the thick curtains of undergrowth.

Raven holstered his lazer and helped Maryam to her feet.

“You should not go so far from the camp,” he told her. “If I had not kept you in sight, they would have killed you.”

Maryam flushed hot pink with embarrassment. Her leggings were still tangled down around her knees and Taron and Garl were grinning broadly. Then she was saved from any further discussion by more agonized animal screaming.

“The horses!” Raven snapped, and drawing his hand lazer again, he led his two crewmen off at a swift run.

They were only seconds away, but they were too late. By the time they reached the spot where the horses were tethered, only three of them were left. The fourth was already being dragged off into the thick undergrowth, blood pumping from its severed jugular and its broken neck firmly clamped in the jaws of a huge, black-maned forest lion that had also waited all through the night for its moment of opportunity.

With the remaining three horses still milling hysterically in their line of fire, there was no chance for any of the three Gheddans to get in another lazer shot. The steel tethering spike had been pulled from the earth as the animals reared in panic, but they were still held fast together. The fact that they were so constrained while facing in different directions was the only reason that they had not bolted. They were all pulling madly against each other. By the time they were brought under control, the lion had escaped with its prey.

Raven cursed loudly and angrily, but that did little good.

Maryam was angry too, but she was angry with herself. Not for going off alone, or even for being caught literally with her trousers down, but because she had screamed and showed her weakness and her fear. She knew that she had lost face with Raven and the others, and after all she had done to earn their respect it was a hard thing to bear.

 

When they rode on, Maryam now had to ride double behind Raven. It was not even her mount which had been taken. It was Garl's. But now Garl rode her horse, and she had to ride behind Raven. She fumed inwardly, but there was nothing she could do.

The rest of their journey beside the river through the bottom of the gorge was as beautiful as before, but the magic had gone. Maryam could no longer enjoy the gurgle of the running water, the warm sunshine or the twittering birdsong. Now she knew exactly what might lay watching and waiting behind the thick screens of foliage and it was impossible to relax. Her gaze darted to and fro among the shadows, and for the first time, she wished that she too could carry one of the white-fire weapons and knew how to use one.

After a short ride, Raven pulled to a halt and pointed forward and upward to where the sheer cliffs on their left were topped with continuing walls of man-hewn stone. Only the chequerboard pattern of squared blocks showed where the natural cliff face ended and the human construction began.

“Stronghold Raven,” he said calmly. “Only a frontal attack is possible, for there are only two approaches to defend. Against swords it is almost impregnable. We could have reached it last night if I had hurried the pace, but the cliff would be impossible to climb in darkness.”

Taron and Garl stared upward, but made no comment. Raven kicked the flank of his horse with his heel and led them on.

At the base of the cliff, they had to leave the three horses, tethering them loosely to a low branch on one of the trees. Maryam lingered to give them a sorrowful parting glance before she turned to follow the three men on the first part of the upward scramble over loose rock and boulders. She wondered how long the horses would have to wait here, and what were their chances of survival. It seemed of no concern to Raven and the others, but she had learned to trust the large, ugly horses, and now she felt pity for them.

It was a breathless but relatively easy climb to the top of the long, broken slope where the rock face began. Here they rested briefly, looking back over the tree tops and the green-tangled length of the gorge. For the moment, most of the river was hidden below them. Finally, Raven unbuckled his sword belt and slung it over one shoulder so that the sword and scabbard hung down his back out of the way. Taron and Garl, and then Maryam, followed his example.

Raven studied the cliff face above them for a few moments. It was almost sheer, but there were ledges, knobbled outcrops and fissures to provide hand and footholds, so although difficult and dangerous, the climb did look possible. Having chosen his route, he stepped forward and started up.

Taron and Garl followed his lead, spacing themselves about ten paces apart, and finally Maryam pulled herself onto the cliff face to bring up the rear. Taron was copying the movements of Raven, trusting to the same levers and holds. Garl dutifully took his lead from Taron, and in turn Maryam watched and tried to follow Garl. However, her arms and legs were not quite as long as those of the three Gheddans, and the cracks and steps that were feasible for them were frequently just out of her reach. She soon realized that she had to trust her own judgement and find her own way.

Soon she was breathless and tiring. Her fingers were scratched and bleeding and her knees were bruised. Every muscle in her back, shoulders and thighs was starting to ache. Only once did she look down, and the sheer drop below caused a sickening lurch in her stomach. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and hung on until the moment of nausea had passed. When she forced herself to open her eyes again, she kept her gaze fixed on the rock wall in front and the three men spread-eagled above. She knew that it would be a fatal mistake to look down again. Climbing down would be even worse than climbing up and now that she was this far committed she had no choice but to keep going upward.

Dirt and small stones spattered down on her, and she realized that if any of the three men slipped and fell, they would probably sweep her off the rock face. If Raven fell, he might even take all of them with him. She began to pray then, with the same fixed determination that kept her clawing upward, one step or arm-pull at a time.

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