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Authors: Alfred Reynolds

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BOOK: Kiteman of Karanga
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"This is all the business I'll ever do with you," said Karl.

"Never be too sure," said Murthdur with a grin. Then, snapping his fingers at his aides, he turned and left the castle roof.

21. Into the Sunshine

The following week, the shepherds of Eftah looked with apprehension down the valley, in the direction of Ithdon. Flying toward them at great speed was a force of kitewings such as they had never imagined. To the skeptical shepherds, who knew well the vagaries of oppression, it could mean but one thing—Karl of Karanga had been forced to teach the Hrithdon his craft, and they were returning on kitewings. For the past few weeks, rumors had run wild in the mountain country—and then all at once the locally stationed Hrithdon had left without explanation. So now, as they watched the approaching wings, the shepherds shut their barns and herded the children inside and barred their doors.

Gardo also closed his barn and shut his doors, but not before Rolf escaped into the yard.

"Get back in here!" Gardo shouted. "You go meddling into Hrithdon business, and you'll get your throat cut."

"It's Karl and Rika, Grandfather. I know it. I'm sure."

"You know a lot less than you think, youngster. Now get in here."

Instead of obeying, Rolf turned and ran through the village and out into the pasture. Gardo followed him, shouting at him to get back in the house. As he ran, Rolf yelled to the other villagers that it was Karl and Rika returning, but nobody believed him. With joy and expectation he watched the force circle the village, then peel off one by one and descend into the pasture to land.

As the first brilliantly decorated kitewing touched down, Rolf knew from the slow, perfect landing that it had to be Karl. And as he watched the others come, he could tell by their expert maneuvering that these flyers were Karangans. Rolf waited until they had all landed and then ran into the field, dodging among the fierce-looking kitemen until he came to the brightly colored wing in the center.

"Karl! Karl!" he shouted.

"Rolf." Karl grabbed Rolf and pulled him close and pounded him on the back.

"Rika!" Rolf cried and ran to his sister.

Rika gave him a hug.

"Where is everybody?" Karl asked him.

"Hiding," said Rolf. "They thought you were the Hrithdon coming back on kitewings."

"Rolf, Eftah is free!" Rika cried. "The Hrithdon are gone. They won't be back."

"Go tell the villagers to come to Athgar's house," Karl said to Rolf. "We should tell them what has happened."

At that moment Gardo came up, amazed at all the kitemen and their wings.

"Grandfather, Grandfather, we've done it!" Rika burst out. "Eftah is free now," she said as she embraced the old man.

Later, Karl and Rika told their story and the villagers rejoiced, hardly believing that the harsh years of Hrithdon rule were over. At last, after they found beds for all the Karangan flyers, Karl and Rika returned with Gardo to his cottage.

Rika lit a lamp, while Karl took out a leather pouch that had been given him as part of the final agreement with the Hrithdon.

"Gardo, I think you might want to see what's in here," Karl said. He placed the pouch in the center of the table and tipped the contents out. Glittering gold pieces spilled out onto the tablecloth.

Gardo's eyes sparkled with delight, but then a shadow of suspicion crossed his face. "Where'd you get these coins?" he demanded.

"From the Hrithdon, Grandfather," Rika cried. "They are to replace the stones I took from you when we went to Ithdon."

"The Hrithdon have paid back more than we took," Karl added.

For several minutes, the old man said nothing. He examined the coins silently, picking them up and looking at them one by one. Finally, he looked up at Rika and Karl.

"All my life, wealth has been very important to me," he said, "but now I know that freedom is more important." He reached out and scooped up a handful of the gold pieces and put them back into the pouch. Then he handed the pouch to Karl. "Karl, I want you to have these because of what you've done for us. I also want to tell you that you have a home with Rika and Rolf and me if you decide you want to stay in Eftah."

"Thank you, Gardo," Karl said. He took the pouch and hefted it. The gold pieces clinked gently together.

"Grandfather, you're wonderful," Rika exclaimed, engulfing the old man in a hug.

That night there was a celebration in the village, and the Karangan flyers were the honored guests. Several sheep were roasted whole outside on giant spits, something that had not been done since before the Hrithdon conquest. The shepherds brought out their mandolins and flutes and mountain horns and entertained the Karangans with Eftian songs and dances. Late in the evening, Karl and Lars sat down together near one of the roasting pits.

"Karl," his brother asked, "are you coming back to Karanga with us?"

"Not this trip, Lars," Karl answered. "Athgar has asked me to start a kitewing force here, and I'll be busy doing that for a while. But once it is started, I'll come back with one of Zanzu's caravans. I want to go back to the council and receive my Karangan rights. Then I'll try to talk to Father."

"Maybe this time he'll be able to judge you fairly," Lars said. "When he hears of all the things you've done for Karanga, Karl, he'll want a reconciliation."

"I hope so," Karl said. "The least I can do is give us both another chance."

A few days later, a cry was given that a Hrithdon column was coming up the valley. The shepherds, who had not seen any Hrithdon for some time, watched the column with interest. But when it turned off and started up the winding mountain trail toward Eftah, they again shut their barns, shooed the children inside, and barred their doors, despite Karl's and Rika's assurances that there was nothing to worry about. Moments later the column halted in the village, and Zanzu slid down from the saddle. Behind him, Karl recognized some of the sailors from Zanzu's boat, who seemed ill at ease with their new mode of transportation.

"By the Lizard!" exclaimed Zanzu jubilantly. "This is the way it ought to be—riding on the open roads, no hiding, no unloading or picking up cargoes at midnight, no running for our lives. A man could grow old and happy doing business this way."

"You still have the Karangan council to deal with," Karl reminded him.

"Ah, yes," said the former smuggler, "but I've already lined up a couple of good contacts there. I shouldn't have any problems."

"You mean you were doing business while we were there before?" Karl asked in amazement.

"Of course I was," said Zanzu with a grin. "Business is business, and if you want to stay in business, you've got to be thinking ahead."

The Karangans set up their wings, and Karl gave his brother a farewell embrace.

"Lars, take care of yourself. Tell the council that I will live in Eftah, but that I am a Karangan always."

Lars grinned at his brother, then turned and started down the slope. Within a few steps he was airborne. He skimmed across the field and soared out over the valley. One, two, then three at a time, the other Karangans launched and soon the whole force was circling together in a large thermal. They grew smaller until they were like colorful leaves in the autumn sky. Then they turned eastward and disappeared over the horizon.

Late in the day they would land on the desert and wait for Zanzu's column to catch up with them. From there the lizard caravan and the force of kitemen would travel together in the same way they had crossed the desert before.

Zanzu got back in his saddle, and on his command his men mounted their lizards. Bidding Karl and Rika farewell, Zanzu turned his column around, and they started on their journey with the Karangans.

Karl looked up at the gathering white cumulus clouds, clouds that grew from small thermals in the morning and developed into fierce updrafts by afternoon and thunderstorms by evening. Already a few of the flat bottoms were beginning to darken.

"I think we should go flying," he told Rika.

A few minutes later they were flying over the village and then began circling in a powerful thermal beneath one of the flat-bottomed clouds. Higher and higher they rose until the air became chilled and bumpy and they were brushing the mist at the bottom. Karl moved out toward the edge of the cloud and then let the thermal draw him up into it, and Rika followed. Circling inside the cloud, but staying close enough to the edge so they could see the disk of the sun, they climbed higher still. The air grew colder; the swirling, rising mists of the growing cloud wet their faces. A moment later they turned out and burst into the sunshine.

All around them was a blinding white landscape more mountainous than Eftah. With a joyful whoop of abandon, Karl banked away and dove down across the fluffy slope, speeding straight through a large white hump. On the other side he pulled up, up, and up into what was to be a loop, but at the top he rolled upright and dropped into another dive, coming straight back to rejoin Rika. Wingtip to wingtip they flew between two towering giant cumulus clouds, following a great canyon that turned into a mist-shrouded cavern. They explored this until it closed in behind them. Then, aiming for the brightest spot, they flew into the white wall, breaking out into the sunshine again.

For nearly an hour Karl and Rika dove and whirled and climbed into the blinding white landscape. But finally Rika caught Karl's attention and gestured earthward.

For a moment Karl hesitated. At this great height he could see the edge of the desert. Beyond that was Karanga. The events of the past months whisked through his mind like wisps of cloud mist. From cowardice and banishment and the threat of death he had gone on to discover courage, friendship, and a new life.

Below him Rika swooped into a puffy cloud and emerged on the other side. Karl laughed. Setting his course so that it would intersect Rika's, Karl put his wing into a speedy descent. There was much to do at his new home.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALFRED REYNOLDS was bom in Concord, Massachusetts, and is a graduate of the University of Colorado. For five years he was a teacher of English as a foreign language in West Germany; he now works as a charter pilot and flight instructor. He lives with his wife and daughter in a log house that he built himself deep in the woods in Maine.

BOOK: Kiteman of Karanga
11.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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