Authors: D.W. Rigsby
Tokus Numas (22 page)
“I am not taking the traditional approach. Prince Sid’s mind is dull already. He’s young and full of ambition. He wants to prove himself to the world, to his father, even now, knowing Petro is part of some prophecy to be fulfilled; and so we give it to him. Oh, it won’t be easy, but he craves a blue refreshment made from grapes and rosemary, I’m told, and we’ve taken the liberty of introducing a substance that adjusts his mood. This substance works over several years, though my specialists tell me they can increase its effect in a shorter period of time. As for time, it’s my life that may run out before it takes hold. So, I am using a secondary approach—call it my fallback strategy. This blue substance will cause Prince Sid’s desire to become central for him, making him obsessed with getting what he wants—and when he sees we can give it to him, he’ll take it.” The Father’s gaze fell upon the board. “Though I’ve received word that our person in Dugual has made a mistake, and the toxin we introduced into Prince Sid’s drink was discovered. We shall suspend our efforts for the moment, to give it time to pass, and then resume.” He looked on as his men conquered the men of Dugual, but he knew that it would not be this easy and that King Amerstall would rally his men from the Free City to reinforce his position.
“Look, you have men coming in from the west along the main road. The walls I cannot breach, not this time. But I can buy time. I do not plan to take Dugual over at this moment, but in time. I plan to distract her for now. And while she is distracted, my men will hit the other Keepers on the day of the ring of fire, when the moon is in a direct line with the sun.”
“The annular solar eclipse,” Fin said. “I urge you, sire, to reconsider. It will take more time than you anticipate to dull the mind of Prince Sid—years, possibly. We could call on the witch; I know how you despise her presence, but she has had some success with this disease you carry. It will buy you time. And in this time, your works of human enhancement can make progress, maybe even find a way to extend your life ever further than what the witch can do. This will allow you to avoid a direct assault upon your home and your sons’ homes from the surrounding kingdoms. There are other ways to uncover the hidden technology the Numas have placed with their Keepers, and there are other ways to subdue Dugual. Time is all we need, sire.” He bowed his head.
The Father looked away and then back to the board. He pressed his hands down on the table. Fin was correct; time was all they needed. Did he have time? It was the utmost important question, and what if he could not live for another year, or the next six months? What would all his accomplishments have been for? Would his rash judgment cause his sons to forfeit their red of life? The Father realized he was being brash and too careless. The disease’s progression had altered his decisions, causing his mind to willingly to take too much risk for his desire to see all his work come to fruition. No, he mustn’t go forward—not now. “Have her fetched, and only her. No one else.”
The holographic men moved swiftly from the west, time elapsed, and they both watched as Dugual’s walls held, and King Amerstall’s reinforcements from the Free City swarmed the grounds and defeated the Father’s men.
—From
The Universal Teachings
, by Dr. Setner
F
rom the frigid mountains to the lowlands, Petro and his band of brothers sat inside a wagon, rolling down a dirt road. It had been over a month, and they would conclude their first year at Tokus Numas with a hunt. The wagon creaked from a combination of its heavy wood-planked box and the young men who sat inside. It was covered by an arched piece of canvas and crept through the faint light of dusk. It dipped low into ditches, back up over rocks, and swayed from side to side. Today was a warm day with high humidity; rain clouds had formed above, threatening to release their waters upon the living below. Petro’s skin bore cooling sweat that dampened his clothes in the armpits and crotch. He decided that the fingertip he saw on the mountain was nothing; he’d imagined it, probably from too much stress. And he never spoke to anyone about it, not even Vetus Sepher or Vetus Mont. There was no reason to speak of it, and if he did, it would only raise concern, especially if he could not prove there was a person frozen to death on top of that mountain. Petro watched Kad, who sat across from him. The shadows drew dark lines down his face, darkened circles around his eyes, and blotted out most of his features as the night edged toward them.
“I remember one hunt I was on my own, stalking a bear. It was a massive beast, and its paw prints were as large as two of my hands put together.” Kad held his hands out together, stretching his fingers wide. “I was terrified, but I kept on; and when I finally tracked it down, I stood there, wondering if I should even try to shoot or just turn around and leave before it noticed me. As I waited, the bear stood up; it was so tall, twice the height of a man. I thought I might pee myself,” he said. The wagon erupted in laughter but quieted quickly. “Then it saw me, and I knew I had no choice. There was no going back. If I had turned to leave, it would have probably charged me and killed me. So I brought my bow up and pulled the string back. I was worried; what if I missed? I fired, and I did miss…then—” Kad was interrupted.
“Missed? Yak-nah, it would have killed you,” Sha said.
“No, it would not have killed me. I had my uncle’s ironside loaded with a higher grain of black powder, and the round was large enough to put a giant hole right through it,” Kad spat. “Besides, it didn’t matter that I missed. I killed it with my uncle’s ironside. Thanks for ruining the story.”
There were low scoffs from the others.
Sha raised his hand up in his own defense. “I was just saying it might have killed you if you had nicked it or wounded it. Then it would have charged you and used its front claws to tear you apart. After that, it would have eaten your innards.” Everyone’s faces scrunched up. “I know what I’m talking about. I’ve heard of people being killed before.”
Bran rotated to get a more direct look at Sha. “Who are these people who you know were killed? Do they speak to you from the dead?”
Chortling went around the wagon.
Sha fumbled for words. “I…I didn’t say I knew them. I just heard. And there is a sure way to kill a bear—you shoot it in the head.”
Kad’s jaw dropped.
Petro watched, holding his lips tight and keeping himself from bursting at the gut. It was Kad’s reaction—his face, that look—it was all too much, and he couldn’t hold it anymore. He let out a loud guffaw.
Sha’s stare burned into Petro.
Kad threw up his hands in a wild gesture. “Shoot it in the head? Are you off Spearca? That’s the last place you’d want to shoot a bear. Its skull is as thick as a slab of granite. It seems like you have a similar problem,” Kad said and pointed to Sha’s head, holding a dumfounded look. The young men laughed. “A round would skip off its head, and then you would be dead after you piss it off with trying that sort of nonsense.” Kad waved his hands about his head, moving around erratically and making a comical display.
The group fell into laughter. It was a delight for Petro to be with his brothers. They’d all taken a lashing from Kad at one time or another; Sha was no exception.
Petro wondered to himself, what were they all looking for? Were they looking for different answers, and had he found his answer yet? What about Sha? There was one thought that came to Petro’s mind: Sha put them all at risk. Sha had made a mistake on top of the mountain, and though Petro didn’t speak to him as he planned, he did have a conversation with him once they were off the mountain. Sha never accepted full responsibility and had become more of an outcast to them. It wasn’t what Petro wanted, not at all; he wanted them all to work together, to be as a family, to protect one another. This did seem to be a hard concept for Sha, for he did things on his own and often would not communicate with the rest of the team. How did Sha even get into this brotherhood? Petro would never know. It did seem odd at times, and yes, he thought about what Kad had said in their room in the Gulch on the first day—how they were not picked for the same reasons as the others; seemingly, that statement had proven itself to be correct. Petro never said a thing to the rest of group about having retrieved the mike from Sha’s pack that night before they went to the top of the mountain. It would only cause more issues, more separation with Sha. He decided to try to make good with Sha, to put the past behind them, and look to the future.
They were headed to Wiltho forest, which was filled with wild beasts: bears, deerlings, rabbits, pheasants, wolves, and lots of boars. The boars—some called them wild pigs—were large creatures, some even twice the size of a man. They could be as fierce as lions, with sharp tusks that curled up around their snouts like curved daggers. Each year they spent in the Gulch, after their final test, it would end with a hunt, and they’d come to hunt the wild boar.
Petro had been on a few hunts when he had lived in Dugual, but not many; he had usually been in the castle reciting poetry, practicing music, or learning to speak different languages. He had learned about Dugual’s history and wars and about how to be diplomatic. These were subtle subjects but not as relevant to survival in the wilderness.
There was a sting on Petro’s arm, and he looked to see several bloodthirsty mosquitoes perched on his forearm. Their long needles plugged into his skin, and the red of life filled them. He found himself watching, wanting to see what they did.
“You just gonna let them do that?” Kad said, nudging Petro on the shoulder.
Petro moved slightly. “No, I was watching them. They take such risks, don’t they? To live, I mean. They could die at any moment with the swat of my hand.”
“Yeah, maybe so. I’ve heard the boars are fond of flesh, too—tearing it open, using their tusks to dig into meat and bone. Are you gonna admire them?” Kad smiled.
“It’s not the same thing, dodo,” Petro said, shaking the mosquitoes off, but they hovered nearby, waiting for another chance to draw blood.
“Here, take some of this tea-tree oil and rub it into the skin; they’ll leave you alone. It’s not good to let them draw your blood. They carry parasites and viruses,” Kad said.
Petro rubbed the oil into his skin, feeling how it glided so easily over his arms, face, and hands. It smelt of musty tree bark.
“We should get our tent set up first thing and make sure the netting is in place. We don’t want to wake up covered in welts,” Kad said.
The wagon slowed and then came to a stop. The horses whinnied and then quickly settled back down. Vetus Sepher’s voice filtered through the thick canvas covering. “Time to set up camp. Make it quick, or you’ll not sleep this night, covered from head to toe in mosquitoes.” There was a hint of playfulness in his voice. Everyone knew the story of Johnny Jennings, a brother who had not heeded the words of Vetus Sepher. Two teams had come out to hunt after they had completed their first year. JJ had decided that his team would put their tent up after dinner and went about his business, not overly concerned about the flying bloodsuckers. It wasn’t until late into the evening when the mosquitoes swarmed out of nowhere and covered all the tents, every bit of them, and those who had set up their tents were inside and protected. As for JJ and his team, they were not having fun. The little devils had covered them entirely; no place was untouched. JJ and his team smacked at the insects and squished hundreds of them, but the mosquitoes would not stop. Everyone could hear them outside complaining and cursing profusely, and then finally they settled down late into the night, having gotten their tent set up properly. The next day, JJ’s team looked like walking warts; bumps had formed all over their exposed skin—some large, some small, and some clustered, looking like patches of cauliflower. It was not an experience Petro felt he had to have, and so he quickly leaped out the back of the wagon and onto the soft soil. The rest of the team followed.
The ground gave way with each step, like a sponge when pressed by a finger. Petro looked down where water came up and formed around his sole. It was everywhere; the ground was soaked. As they moved about, their feet sank into the ground, followed by a sucking pop at the end. It made interesting music for the ear.
Vetus Sepher had taken the horses over to a nearby tree. He tied them off and then stood by a green bush about waist height. It looked like a miniature pine but was more fragile. Petro thought he was going to pee, but then he saw Vetus Sepher tear off a piece of a limb and begin to grind the leaves in his hand. The green juices pooled in his palm, and he rubbed the ointment over the skin of the horses.
“What’s that?” Kad asked, nodding toward Vetus Sepher.
Petro looked over his shoulder. “I don’t know. Looks like something to keep away bugs, like that oil you gave me.” Petro went back to work and helped Kad take down a large, thick, canvas tent for his team to sleep in. They pulled it across the ground and then undid the ties. Once those were open, they unrolled the tent, taking it out and stretching it to the sides. The others were picking up firewood, making a fire pit, and getting food ready for the night.
Petro recalled that day on the field with the Father, how he had shown up unannounced and flaunted his presence in front of all. He wished it had never happened. Often he felt that maybe, if he could control the future, he might be able to warn King Amerstall or even stop something horrible from happening, but his precognition had been random. Even this past year in the Gulch, he didn’t experience too many visions. He’d noticed the repeating of words, but it was hard to see if someone actually repeating words or if it was a quick glimpse into the future. At times he felt that he was supposed to do more with his life and that many people were depending on him. He didn’t know what exactly they depended on, but it was a heaviness he felt at times. Even now, he felt like he was somehow set apart, different than the others, but he wasn’t so sure. Maybe some of them had an ability they hid as well, and for good reason. He didn’t want to be any different, and he wasn’t about to let people know about his own ability for that reason.
Sha and Nalum worked on getting the food together—a simple enough task, yet the two were already at each other’s throats. There was a loud clang.
Petro shot a look over at the two to see pans on the ground. Sha and Nalum appeared to be in a standoff.
“Look out, will you!” Sha said.
“No, you look out!” Nalum said.
“Guys, knock it off. We’ve got work to do,” Petro said; and suddenly everything was quiet. He looked around to see that Vetus Sepher was watching them and tending to the horses.
Petro went back to work with Kad. Dark would soon be on them.
The tent was only meant for about six or seven people. It was a six-sided pyramidal design with a cotton liner, eight aluminum eave poles, and one center telescopic pole. The center went as high as two meters, and the sides were close to one and a half meters. There was also a hole in the top, covered up, that could be opened for a stovepipe for heat, but they hadn’t brought the stove this time. It was warm out, and there wasn’t much need for it.
“All right, now we need to spike it down before we can set it up,” Kad said. “Here, take these spikes and this hammer; go around, and work your way clockwise. I’ll start over here and do the same.”
Both worked together, hammering in the spikes, pulling the ropes tight to ensure proper positioning; it didn’t take long for them to get all eight of the ropes spiked down. Kad climbed under the canvas to the center. “Hand me the first section of the center pole,” he said.
Petro grabbed the first center pole and fed it to him under the canvas. The light outside had nearly faded.
“OK, I got this one planted. Give me the next section,” Kad said. Petro handed him the next section, and before he could ask for the third one, Petro fed it in right after.
“I’m gonna hold it in place; go around and cinch it down,” Kad said.
Petro went around gingerly, tightening down one side and then darting across to cinch down the next side. He continued until all the ropes were snug. “Got it,” he said.
Kad came out, pushing the canvas out of his face. “All right; now we just need to set up the other eight poles, check the ropes again, and then we’ll be done,” he said.
