The Reluctant Warrior (8 page)

Jed grimaced. “We’re dead if that happens, we’ll be sitting ducks on the ground.”

“There’s just one slim chance,” Jonathon said, without conviction.

Jed looked back at the rapidly approaching Death-Bird. “Whatever it is let’s do it, only, let’s do it quick.”

“Man the machine gun then,” Jonathon ordered, “and brace yourself, I’m going to bank her hard.”

Jed dragged himself back to the doorway and waited, both hands clutching the gun and his one good leg braced against the door frame. The Death-Bird was within yards of them now, and Jed knew what its pilot was planning. He needed to draw alongside to give Jed the full benefit of a broadside, and so for Jonathon to get them out of this one he would need to pull off a real Houdini of a maneuver. Jonathon suddenly nosedived, banking hard to the left before rolling over far enough to expose Jed’s machine gun to the undercarriage of the Death-Bird.

Jed gave it all he had, his last rounds of ammunition ripping the enemy’s belly open as if it were a tin can. He breathed an audible sigh of relief as the Death-Bird careered overhead, crashing into the prairie grass in an earth shattering explosion.

“That’s it…we’re spent,” Jonathon said, “I have to put her down.”

“Any chance she can be repaired?” Jed asked hopefully, as the chopper came to a bumpy rest a few miles short of the forest.

“Not by us. But Montrose is likely to have some spare parts so it’s best we destroy her.”

Jed gathered up the remaining jars of methanol, and after lighting one tossed it with the greatest reluctance onto the floor of the helicopter. “They’re still one chopper up on us,” he said despondently, as he watched the flames begin to take hold. “And now they’re going to be madder than a nest full of hornets.”

Jonathon was standing beside him as they watched the conflagration. “We did what we could. Five out of six is better than I expected, and we got out of there alive which I didn’t expect.”

As the enormity of what they had just achieved finally struck him Jed placed a hand on Jonathon’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, buddy.”

Jonathon returned a haggard smile. “Well, I’m not planning to give up my day job in a hurry. I swear this has aged me ten years.” He glanced down at Jed’s leg. “Are you going to be able to make it back on that?”

“It hurts, but I think I’ll be okay.” He scanned the sky they had just traversed. “When that chopper doesn’t come back they’ll send the other one up. And seeing as I don’t fancy coming through alive only to be gunned down out here we’d best get going.”

Closely watching her as she worked on his leg he could see nothing in her facial expression that gave anything away. “So how bad is it?” he asked, eventually.

She finished wrapping the steamed leaves around his leg, tying them with a length of thin cord before answering him. “It is a bad wound, and you have lost a bit of flesh that I doubt will grow back.”

“Not really what I wanted to hear,” he admitted. “But I guess I’m lucky to be alive at all.”

She straightened up. “Will the Sky-Gods come for us now?”

He was beginning to get used to the way she never beat around the bush. “I expect they will. They won’t take kindly to what we did to them today.”

“It was nothing compared to what they have done to us.” Her jaw jutted out in defiance. “They deserve everything you gave them.” She walked over to her bed and scooping up a bearskin returned to him. “I would like you to have this.”

He studied it for a moment as she held it out to him. “It’s magnificent.”

“It was my father’s.”

“Are you sure you want me to have it?”

“I have been saving it for the man who captures my heart.” She looked lovingly at him. “And here he is, so it belongs to you now.”

He took it from her hands. “Thankyou, Amora, I will treasure it.”

The door creaked open on its hinges as Erik stepped inside and Jed knew something was up when he saw the look that was passed between brother and sister. Within seconds she was gone, leaving Erik and Jed alone. “The elders are very pleased with what you and Jonathon have achieved today,” he said solemnly. “There is talk of making you Noragin for life.”

“We would like that very much.”

“Good.” Erik moved over to the fire to inspect the contents of a pot. “There is another matter that I wish to speak to you about.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Erik abandoned his pot gazing and came straight to the point. “Amora has come to me and confessed that she has deep feelings for you. Do you share these same feelings for her?”

Jed suddenly felt like a naughty schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, even though he hadn’t even touched the girl. Erik’s eyes were boring into him at the moment, and even though he wasn’t one to get embarrassed easily he was definitely beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. He couldn’t deny that he liked her. What was there not to like, and so there was no point in dancing around the issue any longer. “I like your sister very much.”

“It makes me happy my sister has picked out a good man,” Erik said sincerely, “and a mighty warrior too. After today I can see why your enemies run from you on the battlefield.”

“Blast you, Rex,” Jed muttered quietly under his breath.

“If it is your wish to keep company with my sister then I happily grant you my permission.”

Jed nodded. “Thank you.”

“It is not our custom to sleep with our women until after the wedding ceremony,” Jed noted more than a hint of warning in Erik’s voice, “unlike the Yakros.”

So, it had gone from just keeping company with Amora to marrying her in less than ten seconds. Jed hadn’t said anything about wanting to marry his sister, it had just been assumed. Problem was, he wasn’t in a position to offend the fellow, and telling him the truth would probably do just that. He would just have to play along. “Of course,” he said. “You have my word that I will not touch her.”

Erik’s face lit up. “Good,” he boomed, “all is settled.” He ushered Jed towards the door. “A celebration is called for. The men are breaking open the ale in the longhouse. Tonight we will drink deep.”

No one could mistake the looks Amora was giving Jed across the crowded longhouse. She had eyes only for him and had no intention of hiding that fact. She was trying to make her way across to him now, and he had to smile at the frustrated look on her face as warrior after warrior stopped her and insisted she dance a number with him. At the rate she was advancing it would be the early hours of the morning before she reached him.

“How’s the leg?” Jonathon had just walked in the door and was quietly taking in the gaiety of the celebration.

“Throb’s like there’s going to be no tomorrow, but otherwise its okay”

Jonathon followed Jed’s line of vision until his own eyes fell on Amora. “She’s quite a beauty that one,” he said, with a touch of envy as he watched her blonde hair spray around her shoulders in wild abandon. “And a body to die for,” he added.

“Yeah, she’s in a class of her own,” Jed agreed. “Do you think we have a chance of winning now we’ve taken out those choppers?” he asked, completely changing the subject.

“We’re still heavily outnumbered and they are a helicopter up on us. I’d say they still have the upper hand.”

Jed’s eyes strayed back to Amora. “I’m thinking of going back to destroy that chopper.”

“We lost our chopper, Jed, there’s no way we can take their one out now.”

“I don’t need the chopper. I was thinking of scaling the wall at night.”

Jonathon mulled it over for a moment. “After today they’ll be heavily guarding the wall and even if you do get into the compound what would you destroy the chopper with?”

Jed had thought that one out too. The two grenades they had salvaged from Montrose’s original base were too risky to use. They were surplus World war two, and so there were no guarantees they would actually detonate, and it was imperative they destroy those choppers. “I’ve still got two of those jar bombs.”

“Okay, let’s assume you do make it in and destroy the chopper with one of those bombs. What makes you think you’ll get out again?”

Jed noticed Amora had nearly reached her goal. “I never said I expected to make it out.”

Jonathon shook his head at him. “This is not the time to be playing the doomed hero. We did all we could today, isn’t that enough?”

“I can’t let Montrose murder these people, Jonathon.” Amora was only about sixty seconds away now. “Not when there’s something I can do to stop it.” He inclined his head in Amora’s direction. “If something happened to her I’d never forgive myself.”

“Okay, if you’re determined to try this thing then I won’t let you go alone.”

“I hoped you’d say that. I don’t think I can pull it off on my own.”

“So when were you planning to do it?”

“We’d better go tomorrow night. Montrose is going to be desperately seeking out a Noragin village to carry out his revenge on. If we can take out his last chopper it’ll make it much more difficult for him to find one.”

Jonathon peered skeptically at Jed’s leg. “And is that thing going to be up to scaling that wall?”

“It’ll have to be, won’t it?”

“Tomorrow night then,” Jonathon agreed, before allowing a Noragin woman to drag him off into the melee.

Jed considered Amora. It would be best not to tell her of his intention. She would worry too much, and she had been put through enough this morning as it was. If he didn’t come back she would be upset, but she was young and would eventually get over him. After all, they hadn’t known each other long and so her feelings hadn’t had a chance to mature yet.

“At last,” she puffed, grasping his arm so no one would ask her for a dance. “I thought I’d never escape them.”

“You looked to be enjoying yourself,” he teased.

“It was you I wanted to be with, not them.” She glanced down at his leg. “If it wasn’t for that I’d insist you dance with me.”

“Never been much good at dancing,” he said truthfully, “I always trip over my own feet.”

“Erik told me he’s given you permission to keep company with me,” she said happily. “I’m glad it is all out in the open now.”

“So am I.”

She took him by the hand. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. Somewhere we can talk, there’s so much I want to know about you.” She led him outside then up to the big rock the helicopter had taken off from that morning. “You can see the river from here,” she explained.

Jed settled down on the rock and gazed off into the distance. What a strange land this was, a land where it never really went dark. The central sun shone twenty four hours a day, dimming during the equivalent of their night only because the vapor that surrounded the sun was thicker on this side of it. It was weird really, for the evening was nearly as bright as if two moons were shining. It never got darker than that. It would make scaling Montrose’s wall tomorrow night a risky proposition.

“How is it that you speak my language?” he asked, without shifting his attention from the rushing river far below the rock.

“Many years ago when the Sky-Gods arrived in their Death-Birds they befriended the Noragin.”

“What?” Jed left his study of the river. “Montrose was friendly with your people when he first came here?”

“The Sky-Gods were very friendly. For several years we lived happily together in this land, and in that time they taught us to speak their language.”

“What happened to bring about the war then?”

“Montrose started demanding we give Noragin women to his men. When we refused he began to take them by force. When our men objected he killed some of them, and so we broke off all contact with the Sky-Gods.”

Jed considered what she had just told him. So the first Montrose had been a despot too. “What happened when you did that?”

“Montrose attacked the farms and most of the villages out on the prairie, abducting the females and younger males and killing the rest. We have been at war with the Sky-Gods ever since.”

Jed knew the type. A military man with no superiors to rein him in he had obviously developed ideas of grandeur, so becoming a self styled king had been determined to rule everyone and everything in this primitive world, and now his son, or grandson, had picked up where he had left off.

“We came across one of the Sky-Gods not far from the ice,” Jed said. “He was dying, and warned us to beware of Montrose.”

“He would have been one of Montrose’s deserters,” Amora explained. “Not all of his men agree with what he was doing. Many years ago a small band escaped to the mountains, and now and again one or two will travel to the ice to try and return to their homeland. But Montrose always gets them before they make it to the ice.”

Jed had been watching her as she spoke, taking in every inch of the beautiful face. “Why me?” he asked suddenly. “Why have you picked me? Don’t you look at me and think…he is too old for me?”

“I have waited a long time for the right man,” she said softly. “I don’t care about his age. I only care that he is someone I will always love.”

“How old are you, Amora?”

She reddened. “240.”

240…did she say 240? He must have heard wrong. “How old?” he asked again.

Her face reddened deeper. “240,” she repeated. “I know that is older than most women are when they marry, but I waited for the right man.”

His mind raced. How could she be 240? Was she playing games with him or could it be…? “How many days are there in a year in this land?”

She looked at him strangely. “365. Why, do the Sky-Gods have a different number where they come from?”

He shook his head. That ruled out a shorter year. 240 years, could it be possible?

“You are displeased with my age,” she said sadly. “I feared that you would be.”

It jolted him free of his thoughts. “Oh no, not at all,” he assured her. “You are so young and beautiful that I was worried you wouldn’t want someone as old as me.”

The expression of hurt disappeared from her face. “You are all I could want or need, and you are not old. You cannot be more than 340 or 350 years old.”

He winced and hoped she had not spotted it. How could he tell her he was only 34 years old? She would be shocked. This was going to take some figuring out. “340,” he lied. After all, he was merely adding a zero, not such a big deal.

As they talked on into the night Jed tried his best to answer her questions about his life back home, modifying it in the places she would have difficulty understanding. But all the while his brain was ticking over the problem of her age. It was early morning as he lay on his bed that he fancied he had figured it out. He decided to run it by Rex first before he accepted it as fact himself.

Rex opened one eye as Jed sat down on the edge of the bed. “So how’s the wounded warrior?”

“The leg… oh that’s doing all right…how about yourself?”

“I’m slowly coming right,” Rex insisted, looking intently at his friends face. “You’ve got something on your mind. Come on, spit it out.”

Jed rearranged himself on the wooden bed so he was facing Rex. “Do you know how old these people are?”

Rex laughed out loud then grimaced with the pain. “That hurt,” he growled.

“I take it Frida has told you her age, judging by your reaction.”

“220 years old,” Rex said, and then grinned from ear to ear. “I thought she was pulling my leg at first, but she was deadly serious.”

“Do you know the bit in the book of Genesis where it talks of the long lives of the people living before the flood?”

“I was thinking the very same thing myself after talking to Frida. Might not be such a myth after all. Only, I can’t for the life of me figure out how it can be.”