D & D - Red Sands (29 page)

Jadira moved forward a few steps. Nabul was shouting over the din of battle even though he still could not see a thing. The gnoles' front burst asunder, and mounted men four abreast tore through. While the troopers harried the remaining gnoles, Marad rode up to Uramettu and Marix. "I am Marad
ga.ii
Rafikiya, of the Invincible Cavalry of His Magnificence the Sultan—may he live forever!"

"Marix, third son of Count Fernald of Dosen."

"Uramettu, daughter of Ondakoto and Isanfaela."

The Faziri nodded curtly. "Is Captain Fu'ad with you?" he said.

"No, but we know where he is," said Marix.

"You will take me to him." A thrown javelin struck quivering at the feet of Marad's horse. The animal shied, but the lieutenant reined him in sharply. "You will return our captain to us unharmed, or I shall ride away and leave you to your fate."

Jadira appeared, leading Nabul. She heard Marad's threat. She said, "If we are killed, you will never find him."

"I will not haggle with you, nomad. Give me my captain!"

"You have no choice. We have one wounded and one blinded. Take us out of here and we'll give you your precious captain," she said.

Marad scowled. " Very well. But afterward—"

"Afterward is meaningless if we're killed," she said pointedly. Marad called in some of his men. After putting the unconscious Tamakh in the hands of a burly horseman, each of the companions mounted a Faziri horse behind an Invincible. The trumpeter sounded recall, and the troopers assembled. The flat was littered with fallen gnoles. Marad's band was intact.

"Where to?" he said to Jadira, who was holding him about the waist.

"Down into the crater," she replied. "To the village of the 'strelli."

"Company, follow me," he said. The lancers formed into a column and spurred away from the scene of the fight.

"There's a natural ramp leading into the bowl," said jadira, "about five hundred paces ahead on the left."

They found the ramp. Marad led his men down. Halfway round the spiraling path, they ran head-on into a mass of gnoles. Quarrels flicked from crossbows. Faziri saddles were emptied.

"Come about!" cried Marad. "Go back the other way!"

The horsemen galloped up the ramp. At the top, they met some of the skirmishers, who were trying to find Ubrith Zelka's main force. Marad and his men trampled them and kept going.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Ride!" Jadira said.

More and more gnoles popped up from hiding places. Quarrels, arrows, javelins, and throwing axes rained on the Faziris. More troopers fell. Marix found himself alone on his horse. He crouched low over the animal's neck and dug in his heels.

The flat ground dwindled to an expanse of broken rock and boulders. Gnoles with halberds were picking their way over the broken ground toward the trapped horsemen. One ugly specimen clambered onto a boulder as high as Marad's horse. He swung his halberd in a wide arc. Marad fended him off with his lance. Jadira fumbled for the efreet bow.

Suddenly, the halberdier dropped his weapon and pitched forward. Deep red cuts showed on his back. Other gnoles were similarly cut down around them.

"Is this magic?" asked Marad.

"No! The 'strelli have come at last!"

A small gray form settled on a rock. Wings spread wide, ankle blades bright with gnole blood, Elperex whistled a shrill song of victory.

"We have come, walking friends!" he piped. "Even as I speak, the pip'strelli scour the crater below clean of the foul rapa."

"What took you so long?" demanded Jadira.

"It was the decision of my mate Elperath that we should not strike until all the tribes had gathered," said Elperex. "But rejoice, walking friends! The night of deliverance is here!"

It was true. In ever-increasing swarms, the arriving 'strelli picked off the gnoles. Isolated and unorganized, the beast-men on the crater rim were easy prey. In the bowl, it was another matter. Many 'strelli flew for the last time that night, for Ubrith Zelka and his best troops fought on and on.

When the first glow of dawn came to the mountains, the sounds of combat had ceased. The silence was not merely a token of death, but also of exhaustion and victory.

Jadira awoke in Marix's arms. All around them the surviving Faziri troopers dozed like dead men beneath their horses. They'd gotten no more than a notch of sleep.

She shook Marix awake. Marad stirred nearby. Uramettu stretched her long legs and poked Nabul. The thief unwound the wrapping from his eyes. The swelling was much less now, and he could see.

"How's Tamakh?" asked Jadira. Her voice was a dry rasp. Uramettu gently patted the injured priest's face. His eyes opened.

"Have you joined me in the next world?" he asked Uramettu.

"We've not left this one yet, Holy One."

She helped him sit up. He groaned from pain but managed to stay upright. When he recognized the trappings of the Faziri soldiers, his face displayed a flash of panic. Then Uramettu explained what had happened after he was wounded.

"How ironic. Those who want our death saved our lives," he said.

"We shall see," Marix replied. "For here we are still in the midst of them."

Marad rose and buckled on his sword belt. "You are indeed, young lord. And now, if you please, take us to

Captain Fu'ad." His tone was not as polite as his words.

Slowly the weary troopers shook off the burden of slumber and remounted their equally exhausted horses. Jadira and her companions had to walk. She led them to the ramp so hotly contested the night before.

The ground was thick with the fallen. Here and there among the gnoles was an Invincible, felled by a quarrel or axe. Marad's men rode single file down the ramp, with the companions just ahead.

The 'strelli slept where they had alighted. Reefs of them, their leathery wings furled about them like cloaks, covered the rocky walls of the crater.

The procession descended to the crater floor. In the midst of the dead, 'strelli and gnoles alike, lay Ubrith Zelka. His wounds were grievous, but it was obvious that no single being had struck the mighty general down. Just as an ant can bring down an oak, so had a hundred 'strelli finally broken the strength of Zelka. His reign of terror was done.

Jadira turned north for Elperath's village. Along the way, they found many signs of flight. Carts and wagons overturned and smashed. Livestock running free. Arms and booty from half the lands north of the Shammat were scattered on the trail of the fleeing gnoles.

Something moved in the morning shadows ahead. Marix drew his sword. Jadira stayed his hand; the moving figure was Elperex.

He was walking. Slowly, painfully, but walking. His wing-arms were closed around a heavy bundle of some kind. Jadira caught up with him and tapped him on the back.

Elperex turned. His face was etched with sorrow. "My walking friends," he said, "the night was ours."

"What is it, Elperex? What's wrong?"

He unfolded his wings to reveal the lifeless form of Elperath. "My mated one is gone," he said. "She sought out the leader of the rapa and smote him time and again. He caught her and, with his bare hands, broke her back."

Jadira signaled to Marix and Uramettu. "May we help you, Elperex?" she said. She knew it was terribly difficult for 'strelli to walk any distance. He said nothing, but conveyed Elperath gently into Marix's open arms. The chiefs body was remarkably light.

"I thank you," said Elperex. He spread his wings as wide as they would go. "My wings and eyes for the life of my mated one back!" he cried. His hopeless wish echoed down the crater wails unanswered.

The village of flues loomed above them. Jadira called a halt.

"Wait here," she said to Marad. "I'll get the captain."

He dismounted. "I shall go with you." She shrugged.

Fu'ad was still chained to the base of the slim flue. He was asleep. Jadira kicked his feet, and he started.

"Marad!" he said. "Well done, my brother! You've taken the she-demon alive."

"No one's taken anyone," Jadira snapped. "The son of Raflk and I have a truce."

"Truce? You can't be serious! Clap her in irons, Marad!"

"Patience, my brother. Much has happened since you were captured. Many things need to be discussed."

The rest of the humans straggled in. Fu'ad counted his men: ten, thirteen, eighteen, twenty-one. Less than half of the Invincibles remained!

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"Just this, Faziri," said Jadira. "Your men and my friends have survived a murderous battle with a thousand fierce gnoles. Having fought alongside each other, we agreed to talk as comrades in arms, not captives to captors."

"The battle is over and won, sir," said Marad. "The beast-men have been vanquished, and the arms of the Invincibles carried in glory."

"Very good. Now release me," Fu'ad said.

"Not yet," said Jadira.

"This is nonsense! Marad, muster the men and seize the criminals!"

Marad looked at his feet and didn't move. Fu'ad stared at his lieutenant in amazement. "I gave you an order!" he shouted.

"Look around you, Captain," said Jadira. Angrily, he complied. Everywhere he turned, he saw sleeping 'strelli. Most of them still wore their ankle knives.

"Thousands of 'strelli," she said. "Thousands of blades. They cut the gnoles to pieces, Captain, and these same 'strelli are our friends. Marad knows that; that's why he won't act. There's no reason to die needlessly."

Fu'ad pondered this awhile. He said, in a more measured tone, "Will you unchain me?"

Nabul came forward and tossed the key to Fu'ad. The captain unlocked his bonds and rubbed the chafed places on his wrists.

"You have us in a very neat basket," he said. "What do you intend for us? Death?"

Marix, Uramettu, Tamakh, and Nabul all looked at Jadira. Hers was the final word. What would she say?

"No, not death. I am sick of blood and death," she said. "I leave you to face the sultan with your failure. We're going on, my companions and I, and you are returning to Fazir."

"And if I choose not to go?"

"The choice is not yours. Elperex?" The grief-stricken 'strelli appeared, "\our people must escort Captain Fu'ad and his men back through the mountains east. If ihey deviate from that course, slay them."

"If you wish it, jadira," he answered listlessly. He roused some sleeping 'strelli warriors and relayed Jadira's request to them.

Fu'ad was provided with a horse. He mounted and joined ranks with his men. "It is not over yet, woman," he said. "As long as I live, I'll hunt you."

"No doubt, Faziri. That is the way of a jackal," she retorted.

Fu'ad waved his men around him, and they all rode off. A canopy of 'strelli followed close overhead, their wings beating slowly in rhythm with the horses' hooves.

The funeral of Elperath was simple. She was carried aloft on a cloth litter to the blazing Joj Xarar. Four 'strelli, each holding a corner of the litter, held Elperath's remains in the flames of the sacred flue. In very little time, her little body was consumed.

Elperex, by custom, was now a non-person. For a specified period of mourning, none of his fellow creatures would acknowledge him, speak to him, or even look at him. He retreated to the caves in the western walls of the crater to grieve, and await the time when a new chief would grant him leave to return to the tribe.

A Companion Gained

Marix pounded the loose joint with a
keshj
wood mallet. The seam closed. He tested it with a hard tug. The pegs held.

"It's done," he said. Nabul and Uramettu lined up beside him, and together they pushed the two-wheeled cart upright. From wreckage in the gnole camp, they had taken a pair of carts and repaired them. With an ox to draw each one, plus their original complement of donkeys, the companions would not want for carriage.

Marix worried. Oxen were notoriously slow beasts, and High Summer's Day was rushing toward them. Could they still make it to Tantuffa in time?

"Once we leave the crater of the 'strelli, we'll not stop again until we find the seal and deliver it to your Lord Hurgold," Jadira promised. "That's why we need the oxen. They will walk day and night, and we can ride and sleep."

Tamakh developed a fever from his wound. His gentle face whitened and sweat ran off him in streams. Jadira stayed with him, blotting his burning brow with cool

cloths and feeding him clear broth. He passed in and out of delirium. Often he mumbled in Zimoran, a language Jadira did not know. Once, when she was changing the bandage on his side, he seized Jadira's arm in a surprisingly hard grip.

"Tamakh, what is it? Did I hurt you?" she asked.

"Why must you leave?" he said.

"I'm not leaving," Jadira replied. "I'm staying right here."

"My life will be over when you are gone." Tears streaked the corners of his clenched eyes.

Marix ducked under the tarp. "How's the holy man?" he asked.