Sword Empire (14 page)

“We knew that they were only waiting for their orbital lazer platforms to be launched, and that we had to get back as quickly as possible with a warning. On our last night, Blane asked too many direct questions and aroused the suspicions of the tavern owner where we were dancing. He called the City Guard. Three of them came to arrest us. The drawn swords told us that they were on official business as soon as they entered the room, and they came straight toward us. Fortunately there was a dancing platform that gave me a slightly elevated view above the heads of the crowd, and there were enough of the leering animals watching to block the guards for a few seconds.”

Jayna paused, remembering the moment. It was etched all too clearly in her brain. Then she finished softly, “I spoke a warning to Blane. He chose to fight. He slipped the leash and muzzle off Tujo and pushed him into the crowd. Our poor bear had taken a lot of prods and goads from strangers in his time, and as he floundered into the audience, some of them tried to kick him away. Tujo went mad with rage and promptly tore into them with claws and teeth. Blane yelled at me to run and I ducked out the back door. I thought Blane was following me, but realized too late that he had taken up his club and charged the three guardsmen. I managed to escape, but I learned later that Blane and Tujo were both cut to ribbons by the guards and the mob. Blane gave up his life to give me a chance to escape.”

“And after that?” Zela asked softly.

“I hid for a few days down by the docks. Then I managed to slip on board one of the barges going back upstream to Corrion. I crawled into a gap between the cargo bales and stayed there until the barge tied up at a landing stage again. Then I slipped ashore. After that I was able to stop hiding. There was no hue and cry in Corrion. They were still searching for me in the City of Swords. I paid for passage to take me to the upper reaches of the Great Steel. Then I trekked across country to the headwaters of the Black Swamp where we had hidden the skimmer, very close to where our craft is hidden now. Fortunately I had taken enough notice when Blane was at the controls to be able to pilot the craft back downriver. I crashed the bank a few times, and ran aground once. I did the skimmer some damage, but I managed to keep going. In the river mouth, I sent out the prearranged communication codes and was picked up and brought back to Alpha.”

“A desperate journey,” Kananda said with admiration, and Zela nodded agreement. They were both beginning to realize just how resourceful Jayna could be. However, there was still a doubt niggling in Zela's mind.

“You think it is safe for us to keep using the same cover?” she asked.

Jayna shrugged. “As safe as any other. This will be a short trip, in and out as quickly as possible. We will make excuses and keep our dancing sessions to the minimum, and definitely avoid the taverns where I have danced before. If we are lucky, we may not have to dance at all.”

She had tired of talking, yawned pointedly, and lay down in her rolled furs to sleep.

 

 

 

As soon as it was light, they were on the move again, marching single file through the giant trees of the forest. Strange and exotic birds flitted boldly through the gloom of the high branches, many of them brilliantly coloured with rainbow wings and long, flying-banner tails. There were hawks and raptors large enough to eye them with fierce and calculating contemplation, and once a heavyweight eagle, black as night, and with a cruel, gold-steel hooked beak and talons that could have ripped all three of them to shreds if it had decided to attack.

There were wild beasts too, lurking unseen in the deeper, ground level shadows, but wary of ever coming too close. Sometimes they heard movement where there was no hint of wind or breeze, small rustles of warning sound, a scrape of foliage being brushed, or of the carpet of dropped needles and broken underbrush being disturbed. The claustrophobic, danger-tainted atmosphere sawed at their nerves, and they were all glad when at last the suffocating forest walls gave way to more open country.

To push east, they had been forced to climb up and down a seemingly neverending series of north-to-south running ridges, which made for hard work and aching calf muscles. With each ridge, the weight of their packs seemed to drag more heavily at their shoulders, the straps cutting more deeply. However, as the trees slowly fell back, they could now look north from the crest of each succeeding ridge and see the huge, ice-capped ramparts of the Great Northern Ranges. Kananda had once traveled far enough north of Karakhor to see a glimpse of the Mighty Himalaya, but the highest mountains of his home planet were mere dwarves compared to the dominant peaks and pinnacles that formed the mid-continental wall of Ghedda.

It was past mid-day when they breasted the last of the ridges and saw ahead of them a broken landscape of yellow grass plains, greener hills and smaller woodlands. More hawks and scavenger birds patrolled the high skies, but the immediate focus of attention was the large herd of monster beasts that grazed the nearest large expanse of open grassland. There were half a hundred of them and at first Kananda thought they were elephants. Then he realized that they were at least twice the size of any elephant that he had ever seen. Even from a distance, he could see that they had coats of thick red, coarse hair, and the gigantic tusks of the great bulls curled almost to the ground, swinging upwards again in a complete spiraling circle before the sharp tips lunged at the sky. Kananda drew a deep breath as he stared at them in amazement and wonder.

“They are called marmoths,” Jayna said calmly. “They are vegetarian, but their sheer size makes them dangerous. Some Gheddans hunt them for sport, but usually they are hunted on a commercial scale for their meat. The older animals know this, and unlike the timber wolves they cannot withdraw into the deep forest to avoid the hunters. So if they get our scent they will charge and try to trample us underfoot. We must stay downwind of them and give them a wide berth. We must also be careful now that we do not run into any Gheddan hunting teams.”

She checked the wind direction with a wet finger and then led them in a wide descending circle to take them past the slow-feeding herd.

 

 

 

Two days later, they stood on a high sandstone cliff overlooking the cold grey curve of the Great Steel River. Kananda sat on a rock and simply enjoyed the all-around view, thankful that the long trek across country was over. He was anxious to get down the river and begin the real search for Maryam, but Zela and Jayna were being particular about their choice of transport. They had already let three riverboats pass below them without seeking any passage.

Now another craft was coming into view, its arrival heralded by a smudge of smoke on the skyline, and Jayna had it fixed in the long-range, close-view glasses she held to her eyes.

“The deck-cargo looks like wolf and bear hides, which means they are probably going all the way down to Corrion. Just one man and a boy as crew, which means they'll have enough work to keep them both busy without wanting to talk too much. Probably the best we can hope for.”

Jayna handed the glasses to Zela so that she could see for herself. Zela nodded her agreement and then pushed the glasses deep into her pack. They had already rearranged their belongings so that the hand lazers and anything else that might arouse suspicion were now well hidden. The two women hoisted their packs again. Kananda did the same and followed them down the steep, ledge path that ran down the cliff-face to the river bank. By the time the boat arrived, they were signaling for it to stop.

The craft was about forty feet long, a clinker-built hardwood hull of overlapping planks with a high prow and a single shelter over the wheel. At the stern, it was powered by a large paddle wheel, driven by a steam engine. The boy's task was to feed cut timber into the iron furnace box and water into the boiler which produced the steam. The man in the wheelhouse was heavily cloaked in furs and his face was wrinkled and creased beneath a fur cap. He reversed the churn of the paddle wheel to hold the boat against the current as it drifted alongside the bank. His expression was grim, with no sign of welcome, but at least he had not ignored them.

They began to walk along the bank to keep alongside the boat. Kananda had been briefed as their spokesman and called out bluntly, “We are from a hunting party. Our group has run out of salt and we need passage to the next town to buy more. We will pay for the passage.”

The boy left his place and came to the rail to stare down at them, his face as impassive as his father's. The older man took his time thinking the offer over. The marmoth hunters used large quantities of salt in the first stage of preserving the huge chunks of cut meat, and so the story was a credible one. Finally he leaned out of his wheelhouse, grunted and spat to clear his throat.

“The next town is Rakor, a shit-hole of a place, but you can buy salt there. A passage will cost four silvers each.”

“Three silvers.” Kananda made his voice harsh.

The boatman grinned, revealing yellow-stained teeth. “Ten silvers for the three of you. No more bargaining.”

“My word, by my sword,” Kananda agreed.

The promise was binding on a Gheddan swordsman. The boatman looked at him with some uncertainty, as though such formality was not really expected this far upriver. Then he shrugged and eased the boat closer to the bank so that they could catch hold of the rail and scramble aboard. Kananda went first and helped the two women climb up behind him. The boy simply watched.

Kananda paid over the ten silver coins into a dirt-grimed palm. The boatman tested one with his teeth before stuffing them into a pocket inside his furs. He swung the helm to take the boat back into mid-river and continued his voyage. Jayna went to sit on one of the fur bales that covered most of the deck space and Kananda and Zela joined her. After a few moments Jayna lay back and feigned sleep. Kananda and Zela followed her example. The boatman and his son were obviously accustomed to long, uncommunicative silences, which was exactly what the three travelers needed. The fur bales were soft and yielding, and after a few minutes Kananda was fully asleep.

When he awoke, they were approaching Rakor, a small poverty-stricken trading post of timber buildings, thrown together where the river narrowed and a long sandbar slowed the flow. Their boatman stopped barely long enough to let them drop down onto a creaking landing stage and then continued on his way. A few curious eyes watched them disembark, but Jayna led them away from the waterfront before any questions could be asked.

They found a cheap inn where they could get a meal. They had eaten the last of the rations they had brought with them from the skimmer the previous evening, and by now the pains of hunger were cramping their stomachs. The only food available was grilled fish, salted potatoes and bread, but they devoured the poor fare as though it were a gourmet feast. They took more time over jugs of ale, allowing a couple of hours to slip by. Finally, Jayna judged that they could risk returning to the waterfront.

There had only been two boats tied up when they arrived. Both had departed and now there was only one new craft lashed up to one of the bollards. The boat was a slightly larger version of the paddle-driven craft which had brought them this far, and her bows pointed downstream, which was a good sign. There were two men on board, both unsavoury looking men who could have doubled for cut-throats and pirates in any seaport on any planet. Again in this male-dominated society, it was Kananda's task to bargain for a river passage down to Corrion.

“I sail for Corrion,” the largest of the two boatmen admitted cautiously. He had a lean, pitted face with shrewd eyes and the air of the man in charge. “What is your business there?”

“We entertain,” Kananda told him. “My girls dance in the taverns.” Now that they were on the river, it was time to switch to their prepared cover, which was their reason for changing from one boat to another. Dancing girls appearing out of nowhere on the river bank would not have been credible, and the running out of salt story could only take them as far as the first trading post.

The boatman studied Zela and Jayna, and the look he gave them was one of pure sexual appraisal. Both girls stared back at him evenly. Neither blinked nor wavered. The big boatman grinned and looked back to Kananda. “What do I call you?”

“Kanda.” The shortened version of his name sounded sufficiently Gheddan, and they had decided it was as good as any.

The boatman nodded. “I am Lars. Okay, for twelve silvers I will take you to Corrion.”

“Ten.”

“Twelve, or you can all swim.”

Kananda locked eyes with the man and frowned, but then from the corner of his eye he saw Jayna nod slightly. The asking price was fair. He shrugged and nodded.

“By my word and my sword.”

Lars chuckled. “I would rather see your money.”

Kananda paid him, and half an hour later they were continuing their interrupted journey down the Great Steel River to Corrion.

Their new boatmen were much more talkative than the taciturn old man and his sullen son, and this time Jayna was prepared to stay wide awake and respond with casual conversation. Now that they had changed to her old cover story she could get down to the real business of their mission. As he listened, making only occasional comments to appear sociable, Kananda was impressed by the skillful way in which Jayna gently probed their new companions for the information she needed. Lars and his brother talked about their boat, the river, the meat and fur trade and the weather, but they also revealed that the talk in Corrion and the City of Swords was still all for war with Alpha. The Council of Twelve, Lars said carelessly in passing, was now only waiting for the launch of their third and last lazer battle station. The ominous implication was that number two was also now in orbit.

They reached Corrion at nightfall, just as the smokey lights from the settlement and the first pale stars in the sky were beginning to flicker fitfully. The township that grew out of the dusk was much larger than Rakor. It sprawled within and on either side of a great river junction where the Great Steel was joined by the Lesser Steel River flowing down from the northeast. There were quays and landing stages along all four banks, huge storehouses, more than a score of inns and cheap taverns, and even a few fine, stone-built houses among the general crush of crude log and sawn-timber buildings. There were also watchtowers at strategic points around the town and along the waterfronts, and a Town Guard of grimfaced swordsmen in black steel helmets and black leather boots, gauntlets and tunics, who patrolled watchfully in pairs.