The Transall Saga Page 8

  chapter 27

  The creature beneath him was larger and more powerful than any of the horses Mark had ridden on his uncle’s farm. Every step the muscular animal took seemed to ripple through its entire body.

  And this was the first time Mark had ever ridden without a saddle. The thin blanket stretched across the wide back of the animal wasn’t made for comfort.

  Mark let the beast choose the direction, hoping it would take him to one of Dagon’s familiar campsites. He’d never been on this side of the mountain and had no idea where to look for the Tsook leader.

  When he was safely away from the village he blew the horn. There was no answer.

  The countryside here was different from what he had seen so far of Transall. This area was bleak and lifeless. The trees had thinned out and the cracked ground was an ugly gray sand.

  He rode for miles across the parched open land, blowing the horn now and then and listening for a return call. But the only living things he saw were some long spotted lizards and a few big ugly birds that resembled vultures or turkeys.

  It dawned on him that he hadn’t eaten anything for a long while. He thought about trying his luck with Dagon’s crossbow but knew there was no time. He nudged the animal with his heels. Night was falling and the Rawhaz would begin their attack soon.

  Mark’s eyelids grew heavy. "Wake up," he told himself. "There are people back there counting on you." He blew on the horn until his lips hurt from the effort.

  The animal kept moving, its hooves tapping out a steady rhythm. Mark laid his head on the shaggy animal’s thick neck and knotted one hand in the long, tangled mane. The giant beast plodded on, unaware that its rider had fallen fast asleep.

  Mark dreamed of the elusive blue light. It was right in front of him. But every time he got close it moved just out of his reach. He chased it but it never stayed in one place long enough for him to catch it.

  Then something felt different. The animal had stopped. Mark sat up, wiping at his eyes. The sun was up and they were far away from the mountains. He had slept through the night. He grabbed the horn from around his neck and blew.

  On the horizon he could see a band of five or six riders approaching at a gallop. He sighed with relief. Dagon or some of his warriors had finally heard him and were on their way. The village might still have a chance.

  Mark pulled his mount to a stop and waved. The animal seemed nervous. It stamped the ground and refused to stand still.

  "What’s the matter with you?" Mark squinted into the distance. The beasts pounding toward him were Tsook, all right. But the riders weren’t. They were much smaller. More like the... Rawhaz.

  Mark whipped around, dug his heels into the animal’s sides and jerked it into a lumbering run. There was no cover here. Nowhere to hide. Mark exploded across the desert, blaring out notes on the horn as he went.

  Twice he glanced over his shoulder. They were gaining on him. If he didn’t shake them soon, they would catch him.

  To his right was a small barren bluff. He changed direction and headed for it. In front of the bluff were dozens of small rodent holes. Mark saw them, but not soon enough. His beast stepped into one, stumbled and went down.

  Mark flew over the animal’s head and slammed against the hard ground. The impact knocked the wind out of his lungs. Gasping for breath, he crawled to his feet. The animal was still down, moaning softly, its front leg jutting out at a sharp angle.

  A cloud of gray dust boiled toward him. The Rawhaz had changed direction too. In minutes they would be on him.

  Mark examined the crossbow. It was still intact. He grabbed the quiver of arrows, scrambled to the other side of the fallen beast and lay down on his stomach. Taking the arrows out of the pouch, he inserted one in the bow and placed the rest within easy reach.

  The beast rocked back and forth, trying to get up, grunting in pain. Mark stroked its back. "Just lie still—it won’t be long now."

  The Rawhaz were just yards away now. Mark took aim at the closest rider and let go. The arrow struck the little man in the shoulder and he twisted and slid off his mount.

  Quickly Mark reloaded and fired again. This time his aim was off and the arrow ripped into a beast’s chest. The animal fell, rolling head over heels and crushing its rider.

  The men kept coming. Mark fired and missed. Arrows and dans landed all around him. One pierced the neck of his mount and the creature stopped moving.

  Mark raised himself up to shoot again and narrowly missed being kicked in the head by a giant hoof as one of the Rawhaz jumped over him. Mark flipped around and sent an arrow flying into the man’s back.

  Pain shot through Mark’s leg. He looked down. The tip of a spear had grazed the fleshy part of his thigh. Blood was oozing out.

  The two remaining Rawhaz had dismounted and were slowly circling around his dead beast.

  Weakly Mark reloaded. He knew he couldn’t get them both, but one cannibal was definitely going down.

  He lay still, his breathing low and even, waiting for them to come.

  Someone shouted. He heard footsteps running away. Mark pulled himself up to see what was happening. The two Rawhaz were trying desperately to catch their mounts.

  In front of him, the Tsook were charging toward them. Dagon and his men raced across the desert, firing a volley of arrows as they came. The Rawhaz fell before they could mount.

  Dagon slid to a stop and noted the bodies scattered about. He rode around Mark’s beast to see who had done all the fighting. His eyes widened. "Kakon? What in the name of Transall ..."

  Mark took a ragged breath. "There’s no time to explain. I was sent to find you. The village is in danger. Another band of Rawhaz is attacking them. You’ve got to hurry. It may already be too late.’’

  "Sarbo, bring up one of the Rawhaz mounts for Kakon." Dagon turned to Mark. "Is your wound bad? Are you able to ride?"

  "I think so. But don’t wait for me. You must go."

  Dagon dropped his water pouch and supply bag in the dust beside Mark. "Here, Kakon. When you are able, come back to the village. We have much to talk about." He gave the command and the warriors moved out at a run.

  chapter 28

  It was a warm day and the bodies of the dead Rawhaz and beasts were beginning to stink. Mark was lying against the belly of his slain beast, taking advantage of what little shade it offered. He had cleansed his wound and cut the riding blanket into strips to wrap it. In the supply bag he’d found several pieces of jerky and a crusty piece of bread that satisfied his hunger.

  The animal Sarbo had caught for him stood patiently at his feet. It was time. Mark’s leg was stiff and burned like fire but it was time. He collected the water bag and his weapons and supplies and forced himself to stand.

  It was bad, he told himself, but he’d had worse when he was shot in the back. Taking the bridle, he led the large animal alongside his dead beast. Then he climbed on top of the carcass, swung one leg over the new animal and started out.

  Holding the beast to a walk, Mark made his way back toward the mountains. It was slow going but by the end of the day he reached the first line of trees. He let the animal keep walking until it was almost too dark to see. Finally he slid off, tied the beast to a tree and fell asleep on a pile of dead leaves.

  The next morning he awoke in the same position in which he’d fallen asleep. As a result, his leg was even more sore and stiff than it had been the day before.

  Gingerly he pulled himself up and rested his back against a tree. The supply bag still had a few pieces of jerky and there was a swallow or two of water to wash it down. He finished the food and was about to try to stand when he heard someone calling for him.

  "Kakon? Do you hear me? It is Megaan. Please answer."

  Mark remembered the horn that was still around his neck. He blew on it and in minutes a golden beast crashed through the trees.

  "There you are." Megaan jumped down and ran to him. "My father said you were wounded. I brought a poultice and bandages."
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br />   "The village?" Mark asked. "Is it all right?"

  Megaan dropped to her knees and cut away a large piece of his skin pants so that she could work on the wound. "Parts of it are burned, the storehouse has been destroyed and some of the people are dead. But my father and his warriors arrived in time to save the rest."

  "Leeta?" Mark squirmed when Megaan applied the medicine. "How is she?"

  "Your friend is well. She found the cave and hid with my family until it was over."

  "Did Dagon send you after me?" Mark asked.

  Megaan frowned. "Just lie quietly until I finish, and stop wiggling like a baby every time I touch you."

  "He doesn’t know you have come, does he? I think he would be very upset if he knew you were this far from home with all the fighting that’s been going on lately."

  "My father knows I can take care of myself. He does not tell me what to do."

  "If no one sent you, then I guess you must have ridden all this way because you were worried about me. Somehow that doesn’t sound right. What’s the matter? No one left to do the chores for you?"

  Megaan stood. "I am finished. We can go now."

  "Is that an order?"

  She looked away. "I no longer give you orders. My father says you are ... Never mind. Can you stand?"

  "That depends. What does your father say I am?"

  Megaan rolled her eyes in exasperation. "He told the people that you are very brave and risked your life for us. Because of what you have done, he says you are no longer a nonperson. You are an equal.’’

  "How about that?" Mark rubbed his chin. "And what does it mean—to be an equal? Do I get to come and go as I please?"

  "Yes."

  Mark looked at her steadily. "Seems like an equal ought to get more than that."

  "It means ... you may have a beast and a plot of land to farm and build a house on, and you may ask for a wife when you decide to marry. Now get up. I don’t have all day."

  "That sounded an awful lot like an order." He raised himself up. "Could you give me a hand?"

  Megaan pulled him to his feet and helped him walk. "I think that is enough help. Wait here, Kakon. I will lead your mount to this boulder so you can get up more easily."

  "What was that bit about asking for a wife?"

  Megaan scowled at him. "You are too young for a wife."

  "I was just kidding."

  "I do not find you funny." She handed him the reins. "Can you get on your animal, or do you want me to do that for you too?"

  Mark climbed up on the boulder, gritted his teeth and hopped on. Megaan was already on her beast, heading back through the trees. He trotted up behind her. "Thanks for coming to look for me, Megaan."

  "You are welcome. But it was nothing. I would have done it for anyone. Even a nonperson. Besides, I suppose I do owe you for saving our lives."

  She kicked her beast into a run and left Mark in the red dust.

  chapter 29

  The storehouse and some of the other structures were still smoldering when Megaan and Mark rode in. The tower guard announced their arrival with the horn but most people were too busy rebuilding to pay any attention. A few stopped what they were doing long enough to wave or yell out their gratitude as Mark rode past.

  Several beasts were tied outside Dagon’s cabin. Megaan helped Mark dismount. "Go into the house, Kakon. I will take care of our mounts."

  Mark limped to the door and opened it. Dagon and some men were sitting on long benches at a large wooden table.

  "Come in, Kakon. The council and I were just talking about you." Dagon indicated an empty seat. "Sit down and hear how the Tsook reward those who help them."

  Mark hobbled to the end of one of the benches. "Megaan has told me that you have made me an equal. I thank you."

  "Did she also tell you that as soon as the village is defensible again, we will hold a great feast, inviting all the Tsook of Transall? When the Overlord, the great Merkon, sends his emissary, then the rites of warriorhood will begin."

  "For me? You want me to be a warrior?"

  "You have proven yourself worthy."

  "Again I thank you, but..." Mark looked around the table at the war-hardened faces. How could he tell them that all he really wanted was to be free to search for the light and go home?

  He swallowed. "What I mean to say is that you have already given me far too much. The place of warrior should be reserved for the sons of the Tsook."

  Dagon pounded the table. "It has been decided. Anyone who disagrees with this will answer to me."

  The men of the council stood and filed out of the room. Dagon remained sitting. "You are allowed to choose a plot of land, Kakon. While you are trying to decide, you may live in the house of Hagis. He was a brave warrior who died fighting the Rawhaz. I will send Megaan to make sure it is well supplied. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

  Mark looked down at the steel band around his ankle. "Did Megaan tell you the reason why I no longer wear the weight on my foot?"

  "She explained that she needed an extra hand in the field that day for the harvest, so she ordered it to be taken off. If I had been here I would have been angry, but as it turned out she made the right decision. Do not worry. I will have Tybor, the blacksmith, remove the rest. There is no need for it now."

  Mark stood. He couldn’t remember ever being so tired. "I’d like to go to that house now. My leg is starting to bleed again and I must sleep."

  "Of course." Dagon went to the door and called for his daughter. Megaan appeared and he gave her instructions.

  Outside, Mark untied his mouse-colored beast and led it down the road. "I’m sorry for teasing you earlier, Megaan. It really was kind of you to come help with my wound."

  Megaan kept walking.

  "Your father gave me an odd explanation of how the iron bar came to be off my leg."

  "Would you rather I had told him you were a runaway slave?" Megaan snapped.

  "Why didn’t you?"

  "This is the house." Megaan stopped in front of a one-room cabin. "Hagis was an old bachelor. There is no telling what we will find inside." She pushed open the door and went in.

  Mark wrapped the reins around a post and followed her in. She started checking the shelves in the back. "This house is a disgrace. I will send a slave up later to clean it for you."

  "No. It will be fine until I can do it myself."

  "But—"

  "No slave will work for me. Do you understand? It is wrong to force others to do your work."

  "Oh, really?" Megaan put her hands on her hips. "And just how do you intend to work your new land, Kakon? Warriors are not farmers."

  Mark dropped wearily to the torn sleeping mat on the floor. "I haven’t thought that far ahead. But I can tell you one thing. If I can’t do it myself, it just won’t get done."

  "Mawk." Leeta burst through the door. "You all right. I glad."

  Mark sat up on his elbows. "This is my new house, Leeta. What do you think?"

  "It is good house." Leeta wrinkled her nose. "But I clean."

  "What about your owner? She might not like it if you’re gone too long."

  Leeta smiled and spoke in fluent Tsook. "My new owner is Megaan. She took me in."

  "It was nothing," Megaan said. She scowled and moved to the door. "The old woman was killed trying to run from the Rawhaz. With you gone we needed another worker. Leeta will take your place, that is all."

  "I swear, Megaan." Mark shook his head. "Why is it so hard for you to take a compliment? Just because you are the chiefs daughter doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to say thank you."

  Megaan lifted her chin. "Come, Leeta. Kakon needs his rest."

  Leeta followed her out the door and then stepped back in. "I be back, Mawk."

  "Do that. And if your boss isn’t too busy acting like a snob, bring her too."

  The door slammed.

  chapter 30

  Mark felt better than he had in a long time. The iron band was off his leg and his woun
d was nearly healed. The past few weeks had been spent learning to ride, hunt with a crossbow and fight hand to hand with a sword.

  Sarbo was his chief teacher, and the big man demanded perfection. "Not like that, Kakon. If you strike from above you have more power but your opponent will come in underneath and run you through. Try it again."

  Mark removed his sword from the practice dummy, stepped back and wiped the sweat off his forehead. This time he whirled and came in from the side, slicing the dummy in two.

  "Better. Much better. That will be enough for today. Go home and eat. Come back tomorrow."

  "Wild horses couldn’t keep me away."

  "Wild horses?"

  "It’s an expression, Sarbo. It means nothing will stop me from being here."

  "Strange boy." Sarbo picked up the dummy. "I will take this to my wife to repair. She will have it ready tomorrow. And Kakon?"

  "Yes?"

  "I do not think you are ready to take on any of the wild horses—whatever they are. Wait until you are a better rider."

  "Right." Mark smiled, put his sword in his belt and started up the road.

  Tybor, the blacksmith, shouted at him. "Kakon. Come see. I think I finally have it right."

  Mark trotted over to the smoke-filled lean-to. "Let’s see."

  Tybor reached behind him and brought out a flat piece of lightweight metal. "Well? What do you think?"

  "This is it. This will make a perfect breastplate. It’s light and it won’t weigh me down. What about the helmet?"

  "It is a much more difficult problem. I am still working on it. "

  "Great. Let me know when you get it done." Mark turned and headed up the road to his house.

  "Wait for me, Kakon." Barow ran up behind him. "You said you were going to show me more writing today. Did you forget?"

  "I didn’t forget. Come to my house. I will make us a fine meal and then we can begin."

  "I already ate, Kakon. Let us begin now. I’ve been practicing. Watch." Barow bent over and wrote his name in the dirt.

  "That’s good, Barow. What else can you do?"

  "I can make all the letters. Today you should teach me how to write more names."