The Ancient Enemy (8 page)

The Assenzi and the donkey had crossed, and the slight figure of Utnapishtim could be seen wielding his sword on the left-side hawser. Thru increased his pace while a rock bounced along the bridge and struck him in the buttock, hard but not hard enough to knock him down.

The bridge was trembling, the left hawser was almost cut through. He reached the far side just as the left rope gave way and the bridge started to collapse. The pyluk screamed as they scrambled back at the other end.

Before they could even begin to get their courage up to try to cross again, the Assenzi laid his sword to the right-hand hawser, a stout four-inch-thick twist of bushrope.

Thru fired a few of his small stone-head arrows across the gorge to keep the stone throwers down while Utnapishtim sawed through the rope and sent the bridge falling into the gorge.

There were ways down into the gorge and up the other side, but they were very steep. The pyluk would be delayed, but Thru knew they would not give up after being tricked so.

Without more ado Thru and Utnapishtim turned away and hurried on down the trail. The steep slopes were behind them, and the trail passed through pine and redwood forest, enormous trees on either side.

Soon they caught up to the donkey, which had exhausted itself in the terrorized scramble down the hill. It was still trying to run, but with Meu's weight to carry it could only stumble along at a slow walk. When the donkey stopped altogether, Meu had to try walking. The dismount was an agony. Meu's arm throbbed savagely, but he kept from crying out. He was a little unsteady on his feet at first, but Utnapishtim and Thru helped hold him up and they set off again once they'd tied a strip ripped off Thru's shirt around Meu to hold his arm tight against his chest so it wouldn't move as he ran.

The donkey responded to its new freedom by running away down the trail for a hundred paces, then losing its breath and slowing to a crawl. When they caught up it sped off again.

Meu was consumed by the determination not to become pyluk meat. He kept putting one foot in front of the other despite the pain.

They crossed the Dupple Stream on a solid wood bridge, then passed down through a glade in the giant redwoods. Shafts of sunlight fell through gaps between the mighty trees, and far above was a strip of blue sky. The long glade came to an end in a thick stand of trees where the trail passed into semidarkness. Beyond that, after a mile or so came the beginnings of civilization. There was a small polder farm by the lake and a road into the village.

Thru looked back for any sign of the pursuit. The Assenzi halted and raised a hand, and both of them strained to detect a sound.

The woods behind them were noticeably quiet, however.

"They are not far behind now," said Utnapishtim.

"We will have to fight them, then."

"There, ahead, where the trail goes through those redwoods."

They let the donkey go on, Meu staggering along behind it, while they hid behind the trees one on either side of the trail.

Thru nocked his last steel-tipped arrow and kept watch on the trail behind them through a crack between the main trunk and a sapling. The Assenzi had drawn his sword. They waited.

The woods behind fell silent. The birds had sensed the pyluk. There was only the slightest breeze in the trees to break the hush.

Then he saw them, loping along, four strong, the pyluk with their deep chests, metallic green skin, and hot yellow eyes. Two of them bore shoulder wounds, streaks of dried blood down their sides, but still they sprang along, tails extended stiffly out behind. Pyluk were notoriously hard to kill.

They were just beyond effective bowshot, so Thru held off from shooting. Another ten yards and they would be in range. And then the pyluk abruptly disappeared, slipping into the shadows under the trees.

Thru and the Assenzi waited in their hiding place. It was as good as any ground for fighting from. Nothing seemed to move in front of them. Utnapishtim cast around himself for a trace of the lizard men. He could feel them, they were there, but he could not say where exactly.

Then suddenly a broken tree limb was hurled toward them from a patch of ferns to their right. Behind it came the pyluk, charging forward with death in their eyes.

Thru turned, aimed and released, and took one of the pyluk through the heart. His last steel bodkin was gone. He nocked a smaller arrow, aimed and released all in an instant. The nearest of the pyluk sprouted a shaft from its side and screamed horribly, but it kept coming, long talons at the ready.

Thru didn't have time for another arrow. He drew his sword just as the pyluk came up to the tree. It slashed at him with a heavy hand. He ducked underneath at the last moment, came up inside, and drove his sword into its belly. It gave a hiss of rage and shoved him away. The sword came free, and he bounced off the tree and fell back into the pyluk's grasp. It tore at his back and tried to bite his face, but he got an elbow up and blocked it while he ran his sword back into its belly. It went down on one knee, then collapsed. Blood ran from his arm, where the thing's jaws had closed on him.

To his right now the Assenzi's sword flashed and a pyluk spun away, disemboweled, blood flung wide as it rolled on the path. Thru saw no more because he was suddenly borne down by the one leaping from the left. He hit the ground with stunning force under the thing's heavy body. It slashed at him with its claws, raking him down the side of his face and chest. He heard himself scream as he struck upward with his left hand and connected with the point of the pyluk's lower jaw. The head snapped up and the intended bite for his throat never came. The other talons missed his face by a hairbreadth.

He got a leg up, hooked his ankle around the pyluk's throat, and pulled it away, then rolled, got his knees under him, and pushed himself up. The blood was running down his ruined cheek, but he could still see well enough, and his sword was in motion in time to meet the pyluk's next rush.

The blade went home in its deep chest, but the creature seemed to ignore it as it caught him around the shoulders with its long arms and snapped at his face with its jaws. The stench of its breath filled his nostrils, and the terrible glare of hate in its eyes almost undid him, but he ducked at the last moment and the jaws snapped down around the crown of his skull.

It was as if he'd put his head into a giant mousetrap. He saw stars, and fell to his knees. It would have ended there, but even as Thru looked up, he heard the pyluk's death scream and saw it spin away, one arm still flailing, while Utnapishtim stood over them, covered in blood, the small sword still in his frail hand.

The pyluk were dead. Thru struggled to get back on his feet but every part of him seemed to hurt. There was blood running from his face and the top of his head as well as his arm. His vision was blurry. It seemed Ual Gillo was right—her eldest son did have a hard head.

"Well-done," the Assenzi said. Thru nodded, but then everything started to spin around him, and he put out a hand to the tree to support himself. He leaned back against the tree and slowly slid down it to the ground.

When he came around a few minutes later, the Assenzi was crouched beside him.

"These pyluk are dead."

He nodded. Those steel heads had done the job. Ware's new bow had served him well in a stern test.

Thru shook his head and a clot of blood, partly dried, flew off his chin. Blood had soaked his shirt and matted the fur down his chest to his belly. His trousers were ruined, too.

He found his sword still in his hand, caked in pyluk blood.

"Sassadzu Rendilim will be happy to know what a good pupil you are, young Thru Gillo. First-class archery kyo you exhibited."

"My thanks for your compliment, Utnapishtim, but I should have done better."

"Perhaps one day you will, but by then I should think there will be legends told about this."

The Assenzi paused. "Do you think you can make it to the village?"

"I think so. Let me stand up for a moment."

Slowly Thru got to his feet. His head swam, but he could stand. The wounds on his face and chest were deep and needed attention, but he could walk.

He cleaned off the blade, sheathed it, then retrieved the bow and the steel points.

As they started forward, he could feel the left side of his face flapping in the wind. When he moved fresh blood welled up in the chest wounds.

Utnapishtim was unhurt, the blood on his robe was all from the pyluk. Flawless sword kyo had dealt with one pyluk, the other he had stabbed from behind.

They staggered out of the forest, made it to the farm of Yeezer Damb, where they found the donkey, and Meu with his arm in a sling. Damb put Thru and Meu on his donkey cart and carried the pair of them down to White Deer.

In White Deer Utnapishtim oversaw the cleaning and binding of their wounds. Pyluk bites could easily infect, so distilled white spirit was splashed on the wounds and stitches put in by a skilled seamstress, who winced at the sight of the left side of Thru's poor face. From the edge of his eyelid all the way to the bottom of the lower jaw he would bear a scar. Likewise, he would have scars on his chest, his arm, and the top of his head.

Later, when Meu's arm had been set and put in splints and their wounds cleaned, stitched, and treated with honey and disinfecting herbal rinses, they gave statements to the local royal agent, who wrote them up and sent them off under the Crown Seal to the capital of Ajutan. Evidence was brought in by the posse from White Deer that had gone up the hill immediately and slaughtered the wounded pyluk where they were found. Eventually, after a search, seven long pyluk spears were brought in from the canyon.

No more pyluk were found, and the conclusion was reached that it had been a rogue band, driven by hunger. With a fair degree of awe, the agent sent off the report and filed his own copy.

Thru and Meu recuperated in White Deer for a few weeks, then they rode by donkey cart to Lushtan before they undertook the journey north to Dronned.

In the great city of Shasht, it was the eve of the Summer Solstice festival. Simona was very excited because they were going to go to Lady Bezzad's garden party and those were always great fun. Simona had been wondering for days whether she would wear the orange gown she'd worn for the chorales or the green summer one that Mama had had made for her birthday. She was nineteen and she had to attract a man soon or it would be too late.

All those plans turned to dust when her papa walked in the door. She could tell the moment she saw him that something dreadful had happened. He stood in the entrance hall with a stricken look, his eyes puffy and red. He was not a strong man, she knew, but she had never seen him this upset before.

A magnificent purple envelope had been delivered to Filek Biswas's office in the hospital. Within lay a communication from the Imperial Court. The Imperial Seal was always a little intimidating to break. The great red
A
of Aeswiren III lay embossed in wax across the envelope and glittered with baleful power. Still, Filek had opened it with confidence. His work at the hospital had attracted the Emperor's favorable attention before.

He'd broken the seal and found orders from the Emperor's presumptive heir Nebbeggebben directing one Filek Biswas, to report to the Colony Fleet. He was being sent overseas. He blinked for a moment in horrified amazement, then he'd read it again with enormous care before slumping back in his chair.

When he got home he was still barely able to speak.

His wife, Chiknulba, could scarcely comprehend what he was saying the first time around, then she broke down into tears when it all sank in.

"I am commanded to leave the hospital. I am to take a position as second surgeon aboard the colony ship
Growler
. I am to take my family to the colony in the east."

At the name
Growler
Chiknulba had understood everything in a moment of dreadful clarity. Vli Shuzt had done this. Vli had had it in for Chiknulba since that dreadful party that had turned into a sordid orgy with slaveboys. Chiknulba had been brought up to despise that sort of thing, and Vli had not taken Chiknulba's obvious disgust very well.

Of course it was her, because Vli Shuzt was going on the colony expedition as well, something she was quite bitter about. Her husband was captain of the
Growler
, and she must go where he was sent.

But there was a great power attached to being captain of a departing colony ship. If necessary, the captain could request that anyone of social rank beneath that of the imperial purple join the expedition. Such persons, once they had been requested in writing under seal, could not refuse.

Of course, there were safety measures inhibiting this custom. If a captain reached too high above himself, he would be assassinated by the Hand of Aeswiren, which governed these matters in its own silent, implacable way.

Alas, Filek Biswas had no such protection.

"Old Klegg wept when I told him. He will now have to do his own work. It's been years since he ran the hospital. He was very gloomy when I left."

"What does he have to worry about?" cried Chiknulba. "He will still be here in the city. He will be able to order a cup of hot tea at any time of day or night. We will be at the ends of the world digging ditches. Trying to stay alive through the first winters."

"We will lose everything," he mumbled, staring blankly at the large comfortable rooms of his house.

"And you will be only a second surgeon?"

His eyes came back to hers.

"I will be under some drunken, worthless navy surgeon. Some oafish sot with a filthy surgery and a callous attitude toward the patients."

He would be a nothing.

"And what will we be?"

They would be women, slammed shut in the claustrophobic world of the women's deck of a ship, at sea for many months.

Lady Chiknulba took to her room, where she wept into her pillow all night, unconsolable.

In her own room Simona stood out on the balcony and felt the warm wind blow across her skin. There was a grand view across to the Temple Plaza. The city glowed in the rays of the setting sun; the first lights were being lit. Cooking fires sent up a reek from the residential neighborhoods. The upper classes were bathing and being dressed for dinner. On the great avenues the coaches would soon be in motion carrying wealthy patrons to the theaters. Tomorrow would be the solstice festival. Even the women of the upper classes would be out tomorrow, crowding at the viewing galleries around the temple.