Swords and Saddles (8 page)

“A small group,” Johansen reported, squinting to try to make out details. “Maybe ten Izkop, coming down the bluff to the right. They’re carrying something.”

“Only a dozen?” Singh brought up his field glasses, studying the group as it slowly came closer, walking at a deliberate pace toward the building. “They’ve got Archer.”

“She’s still alive?” Nassar cried.

“Maybe.” Singh’s mouth worked as he kept the field glasses on the group, then he spat to one side. “I can’t tell. They’re carrying her. She’s upright, but not walking herself.” The sergeant lowered the field glasses and slid toward Johansen, keeping low. He spoke softly. “If she is still alive, they might torture her to death in front of us. Be ready to help hold back the others if that happens.”

“I wish we could just charge out and get it over with,” Johansen growled, anger warring with despair within him. “But we still got the kids back there.”

Singh let out a sigh. “Right. We secure this building as long as we can, corporal.”

The sergeant returned to his own window, the other soldiers staying at their own posts. As the small group of Izkop came closer, Johansen could see that Archer was limp and being supported by several of the Izkop. Even though Archer was fairly small, the Izkops’ own small stature meant that her feet dragged and bumped over the ground as the group approached.

Ariana was right next to him again, her breathing ragged as she also looked at the approaching group. “What’s going on?”

“I was hoping you had some idea,” Johansen said. Closer still, the light of dawn growing, they could see rips in Archer’s battle fatigues and wide smears of blood. Her head lolled down so they couldn’t see her face, but Johansen thought he saw raw wounds down the sides of her neck.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ariana said. “It’s clearly a procession. That one in the lead, the old Izkop, he’s wearing decorations that indicate very high rank.”

The small group of Izkop stopped at the gate, then came on another couple of meters with a slow gait that seemed ceremonial to Johansen. Archer’s head came up for a moment as if that gesture took all of her strength, then flopped down once more.

“She is alive!” Adowa shouted, beginning to rise from her crouch near the door.

“Hold position,” Singh ordered, his voice as dark and commanding as that of a stern god. Goldera let out a curse that sounded like a sob, and Adowa settled back onto her knees, her face drawn.

The old Izkop in the lead gestured to the others to halt and then spread his arms wide, chanting.

“What’s he saying?” Nassar demanded.

Ariana listened, her expression intent. “Something about…that god I called Horatio.”

“They think Archer is Horatio?”

“No. It’s more like his spirit, or example. I’m not sure what the words actually mean.” She looked confused now. “The Izkop…proved…their…purity? But so did…Archer. I think that’s a reference to Archer and…her people. I’m sorry, but he’s using the ceremonial language which is even harder to understand than the common speech.” Ariana shook her head. “I think he’s referring to all of you. The others who came among the…demons. No, thieves. Both, maybe. In the valley. Oh, no, they’re talking about us. The civilians. Something belonging to gods. False…hands? No. Offerings. False offerings. Corruption. I think that refers to spiritual, not physical corruption. Something about that demon god I call Prometheus. Denial. Test. Honor. Test. Strength. True…protectors? Of Izkop. Of the gods.”

The six Izkop carrying Archer lowered her to the ground, face up, then held up their spears in salute before raising them again, points down, ready to strike. “No,” Adowa got out in a strangled whisper.

But when the Izkop slammed their spears into the dirt, they did so on either side of Archer. The leader raised his hands, calling out in a voice that echoed across the landscape.

Johansen had sudden trouble breathing as thousands of Izkop rose up from the surrounding terrain, standing silently, spears by their sides. His hands slid along the shaft of his own spear, suddenly slick with sweat. He heard a low murmuring sound and realized that Sergeant Singh was praying, perhaps a final benediction before death.

“You put on your damned show, now just do it and get it over with,” Nassar got out between gritted teeth as the Izkop stood silently.

Then the leader raised his hands once more, shouting another command. Just as the first small group had, the masses of Izkop raised their spears, holding them high canted toward the building, then shouted as one before reversing the weapons and driving them point first into the ground like those already planted around Archer.

A third command from the leader, and all of the Izkop began moving back, leaving their spear shafts standing like a low forest bare of branches and leaves. The long ranks of Izkop all around as well as the small group with the leader marched steadily away, leaving Archer lying amid the spears thrust into the dirt around her.

The Izkop had almost vanished over the surrounding ridges when Singh shook his head like someone coming out of a dream. “Nassar, you and Goldera go out there and get Archer.”

Holding his spear as if that could still help cover the others, Johansen watched Nassar and Goldera hastily shove aside the bodies blocking the doorway, then trot quickly to Archer. Nassar knelt and examined her while Goldera stood on guard. “She’s been cut up quite a bit,” Nassar called back to the others. “Not deep wounds. Like she was sliced with knives. Can’t tell if there’s any internal injuries but I can’t spot any broken bones. Hey, Archer’s still got the comm unit.”

“What?” Singh demanded.

“Yeah. She’s holding the damned comm unit in both arms. Won’t let go.”

“Let her hold on to it. Just bring her in.”

They got her inside, where Ariana rushed to help treat Archer. Johansen saw that Archer’s face was almost unmarked except for long cuts down each cheek and on her temples leading down toward her eyes but stopping short. “Get her awake,” Singh ordered. “We have to know what happened and what all of that meant.”

One of the injections from the first aid kit did the trick. Archer’s eyes shot open and her mouth trembled as she looked from side to side. “Crazy,” she gasped.

“No,” Singh assured her. “You’re back. The Izkop brought you back. Why?”

“They…what?”

Adowa leaned in closer. “Hey, princess, will you let go of the damned comm unit so we can work on your arms and chest?” she demanded.

“Huh? That really you, Addy?” Archer seemed incapable of unclasping her hands, but with the help of Adowa managed to release the comm unit. She looked around again, her eyes tearing up. “What the hell?”

“You’re s–“ The sergeant broke off the word ‘safe,’ apparently realizing how absurd it would be to say that. “You’re okay. Tell us what happened,” Singh said, his voice more gentle but still commanding.

“What…” Archer closed her eyes, her mouth slack for a moment, then rallied. “I was…fighting and something hit…my head. Woke up, being carried –“ Her voice rasped to a halt.

“Water,” Singh ordered, waiting until Archer had drained a cup before speaking again. “Then what?”

“Uh…” Archer seemed unaware of the others working on her many minor injures, instead staring up at the ceiling as if seeing recent events there. “Camp of some kind. Thousands of Izkop. Tens of thousands. Some held me.” She looked over to one side. “Comm unit. I still had it. Some Izkop…wanted it. Kept…
asking
. ‘Give.’ Wouldn’t give it to him. Said no. Hell, no.” Her eyes rolled back to Singh. “My job. You said hang onto Aimee.”

“That’s your job,” the sergeant agreed. “Aimee’s fine,” he added to reassure Archer. “Doesn’t look damaged at all. What happened next?”

“They tried to take it. Kept pulling. I…wouldn’t let them. Others came up and asked. I told them all no. No way.” Archer swallowed. “They…cut me…hurt…but figured they’d…kill me anyway. I wouldn’t let go.”

“That’s all?”

“No. Some other Izkop…” Archer struggled for words. “Told me they wanted me to…to…show them how to use it. Kept saying that. ‘Show us use it,’ over and over. I said
no
. No frickin’ way. They…uh…” She paused again, looking even paler. “Gonna kill me, they said, held spears. Hurt me real bad…if I didn’t. Cut me more. Face. Other places.”

“Did you show them then?” Singh asked, his voice calm and steady.

“No.” Archer managed a ghastly grin. “Told them…go screw yourselves. Why not? Kill me anyway…right? Maybe make them mad, they’d…kill me quick.”

Singh looked at Ariana, who shook her head in bafflement. “What happened then, Archer?”

“Uh…” Archer tried to focus on him again. “They kept trying to take Aimee. I wouldn’t let go. ‘Show us use it.’ They kept yelling that. ‘Show us use it.’ I kept yelling no. Go to hell. Go ahead. Kill me. Screw all of you. No show, you bastards. You’ll have to…to kill me if you want it. Over my frickin’ dead body.” Her voice rose slightly, gaining force, a shadow of the screams she must have thrown at her captors.

Nassar appeared baffled. “Thousands of Izkop and they couldn’t take that comm unit from her?”

“They could have if they wanted to,” Ariana said. “Easily enough. It must have been a ritual.”

“A ritual?” Singh asked.

“Yes. They keep asking her something, and she keeps saying no, and they ask her and seem like they’re trying to take it, to force her, but as long as she keeps saying no, keeps fighting them to hold it, they don’t kill her and they don’t actually tear it out of her hands. They hurt her, but the wounds all seem superficial. Painful, but nothing that would kill her or maim her.”

“You’re saying that Archer did something right?” Johansen asked.

“But what?” Adowa demanded. “What did she do?”

Singh looked at Ariana. “Show us use it?”

“That’s got to be the key,” she agreed. “That and Archer’s refusal to give it up.” Ariana sat looking at Archer. “Actions. Not words. What mattered with Horatio was what he did. What matters with Prometheus, how they identify Prometheus, is what he does. Test. That’s what the old Izkop meant. The ritual was a test. To see if she was aligned with the gods, or with Prometheus.”

“I don’t get it,” Nassar said. “If the Izkop are judging us by what we do, then why didn’t they run us down after we got out of the valley? That wasn’t what Horatio did. Why didn’t the Izkop kill us when we ran?”

Something clicked in Johansen’s head. “We happened to head this way by chance. And you kept us going toward here, Sarge. The right way. The Izkop nailed anyone who tried escaping in other directions. Maybe to the Izkop it looked like we were going to make sure we died defending others, like Horatio.”

“That open path,” Goldera said. “After we got here and I scouted around and the way south looked wide open? They gave us a chance to keep running, to see if we’d do it.”

“Damn.” Singh’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Like you said then, Johansen, too easy. They wanted to see if we’d keep running, or if we’d dig in and defend the civs. If we’d headed south they would have cut us up right then and there.”

Adowa shook her head. “So we did the hero thing. Archer did the hero thing. The Izkop think that’s cool. But the rest of the battalion…what the hell did they do wrong? They didn’t even get a chance to head this way.”

“Prometheus,” Ariana murmured. “Legions of demons.”

“What?” Singh asked.

She met the sergeant’s eyes, her own eyes so wide with a dawning realization that Ariana looked like some tragic cartoon figure. “The Izkop believe that you know good and evil by their actions. They tested Archer, and they’ve been testing humans without our realizing it, because we thought we were supposed to the ones observing and evaluating them. Every time the Izkop asked a human to show them something it was a test. It wasn’t curiosity, every time it was a
test
to evaluate our actions. Despite our explanations, the Izkop must still think our equipment was something from the gods, and every time we showed them how to do something we failed a test. Bit by bit we kept showing them more as they kept testing us, until someone in Amity must have crossed a line, shown the Izkop whatever was necessary to convince the Izkop that we were aspects of Prometheus, or working for Prometheus. That’s why they’re cutting open the bodies! To release the spirit inside and reveal the true nature of it to the gods in the sky for their judgment! Why didn’t I understand that before?”

Singh watched her, his expression grim. “Because you were thinking of physical things being stolen, or scientific concepts. Not something as simple and everyday to us as how to use the stuff we carry around. They decided you civilians were working against the gods, trying to corrupt the Izkop.”

“Yes.” Ariana’s voice had sunken to a whisper. “The Izkop destroyed everything we’d brought in order to…save their souls. And using that same equipment to attack you…the hand of the demon turned against it. There’s a myth about that. When you soldiers landed at the valley it looked to the Izkop like you were there to defend the other humans, us, the agents of Prometheus. After all, we’d called you, hadn’t we? You were coming in to seize the secrets of the gods again. That made you demons, too. To the Izkop, it must have looked like Armageddon.”

“An army of demons from the sky,” Goldera said. “Yeah. No wonder they fought like crazy.”

“But they had to present a chance for some of you soldiers to prove you were not demons, but agents of the gods. Hiding among the demons, just like demons hide among the gods. They left us alive here to see if any of you would come to aid others rather than try to steal back the secrets of the gods. It wasn’t the adults here that mattered, it was the innocents, the children. When you headed this way, toward the children, it seemed your particular group might be working for the gods. And then you acted like heroes of the Izkop, laughing in the face of death and fighting to protect the children. You didn’t waver when they attacked. So they captured one of you for a last test, the most important test, to see how that one soldier would act. And Archer didn’t act like Prometheus at all. She refused to give any secrets away. She defended the gods’ secrets and showed a willingness to die in that defense. The Izkop have decided that you soldiers, your small group, are agents of the gods. I think that’s right. It’s only a guess, but it fits what happened.”