The Tower of Il Serrohe (55 page)

Their stillness and acquiescence was all she needed. She turned to Don and they pressed their cheeks together while leaning their shoulders against each other.

Then, she was gone in a flurry, kicking out sand as the tunnel swallowed her.

Turning, Don took measure of the still mute group.

Oh, shit.

seventy five

Sliktooth, still being given five or six feet of “elbow” room all around, drew his attention.

“
All things considered,” Don said to him, “I think our Soreye friends will grant you the same cushion of free passage that we do, so you should be first up.”

He talked to each of the others: the Linksmin, the Loopohmin, the Barbamin, and the Nohmin. He had no idea if this would really work, but he’d passed the point of no return when he went into the tunnel.

He watched the valley floor, three hundred feet below, for a signal that Raquela had made it through the tunnel and set the plan into action among the clanspeople.

Don thought it was better he had no watch, so he couldn’t agonize over every second and minute. Then again, that might have been better than standing there so long the Tower had time to melt from erosion.

Finally, a young
Càhbahmin galloped into view. He looked up at Don while rearing and whinnying, the sound echoing off the cliffs.

Don turned to the Crotalmin. “OK, long, tall guy, it’s show time.”

“
Sssay what?” Sliktooth hissed.

“
Go!”

Sliktooth started working his way around rocks and stubby thorn bushes to the top of the mesa eight feet above. As the tip of his tail disappeared, Nersite and Netheraire scurried up the slope.

Nersite looked back at Don with fear and excitement shining in his eyes. “There’s no one here and Sliktooth is headed across open ground.”

I could sure use a tall, cold beer right now.

With the Loopohmin on either side of him, Don made his awkward way up the slope, sliding and occasionally burying his hooves in the loose dirt. He leaned against one or both of the wolves to steady himself. Although fearful that they might turn on him and bite, he did it anyway, trusting their promise to help.

True to their word, they tolerated not only that but when he draped his head over their backs, gripping firmly to keep from falling. At the top, the three gratefully scooted forward before standing upright.

The Linksmin bounded up behind as if they were house cats jumping on a countertop. The Barbamin swarmed over the edge as the Nohmin easily strolled to the top and across the open space.

Suddenly, an excited gasp came from the priests’ huts to their right. Like the shadow of a fast-moving cloud, the Barbamin closed on a young servant boy peeking around the edge of a hut. He immediately began clawing at his feet, stamping, and screaming.

“
Get off! Get off! You damned asshole ants!”

His screams brought the sound of running feet. The Loopohmin changed course a hundred eighty degrees to run at the boy full speed. Their barking and vicious growls elicited screams from unseen people behind the boy. Their stamps, yells, and rocks hitting the ground soon receded down the passageway and they were gone.

“
Damn! We’ve lost the Loopohmin,” Don seethed. He turned toward the Linksmin and Nohmin. “Cats lead the way to the door. Now!”

The cats bounded up to the Tower door behind Sliktooth who was coiled with his head held nearly a foot off the ground. Nohmin clustered around them, waiting for Don.

He sprinted, whirling his head around, constantly on the lookout for more Soreyes. Seeing none, he leaned over the animals and pulled on the door with his teeth. It was latched firmly.

He pulled harder, but it resisted.

“
Who the hell’s there?” called an impatient voice from within.

“
It’s
Sofuh
. Let me in. The Tower needs more protection!”

“
What? Sofuh is supposed to be here already. Up at the top.”

Oh good, I use one of the few Soreye names I know and the asshole’s already in there.

“
How can I be up there when I’m out here? I had to go pee, let me back in. Now, dammit!”

Wood and leather hinges flexed. The door cracked open just the width of Sliktooth’s head. He thrust it through the crack, then pulled it out before the guard could slam the door shut. It seemed the Crotalmin had experience with such a move. As the Crotalmin pulled back, the Linksmin mates lunged against the door, causing it to fly open.

The Nohmin scurried through and started climbing up the guards’ legs as the cats jumped at them, claws of all four feet fully extended. The guards couldn’t overwhelm all of the clanspeople though a few Nohmin took blows from their clubs. Three guards with their backs pressed up against each other tried to fend off the menagerie.

Blood, sweat, and bad breath filled the air with an acrid bite. Then, the smell of rotten farts overwhelmed the other odors as Sliktooth advanced on the guards, keeping his head eight inches above the ground. The other animals parted to allow the snake’s approach. Two guards gripped their clubs tightly. A third pulled a short spear he had slung over his shoulder.

Don couldn’t just stand there and watch. He looked around for something to throw at the spear-wielding guard. Nothing!

The returning Loopohmin slammed past, knocking him off his feet as they dove into the guards. They screamed, and then two of them, one being the spear wielder, made muffled gurgling sounds as the wolves bit their necks. As they dove onto the guards, the two Linksmin teamed up on the third guard, who didn’t offer his neck as easily.

The cats tore at him with their claws and bit his hands as he pounded their heads. Don, remembering what was on his head, slipped behind him. Dropping his head, he leaped into the guard’s back, leading with his stubby antlers, and stabbed into the Soreye’s spine. The guard moaned and collapsed in a heap, paralyzed.

They may have been stubby, but those antlers were effective.

The wolves held on until the guards went limp indicating they had accomplished their goal. The Nohmin ran around in circles yipping, “Hey! We got ‘em! Hey! Got ‘em! Hey! Hey!”

Nersite sniffed the piled up bodies. “They’re goners! We got ‘em! Yes!”

Don slumped against the big post supporting the spiraling stairs and platform far above. He felt nauseated, not only from the exertion and fear, but because he’d never killed before, not even a small animal. Nothing bigger than a cockroach.

He turned and threw up what was left of his last meal with the Soreyes and that dark brown bile, its sharp bite in the back of his throat gagging him again.

Nersite rushed to his side. “Sorry, little buddy,” Don said. “I never killed before. I don’t know if I can get up.”

“
Sure, you can, come on.” Nersite was too small to help hoist Don, so he just sat there staring at his own vomit.

Without hesitation, the swarm of Barbamin crawled across the threshold of the open door and headed up the stairs. Workers grabbed hold of each other to provide a living ladder so the soldiers could climb one stair at a time.

Behind the Barbamin, Netheraire rushed in and joined Nersite watching Don be sick, “I can’t get up! I feel like warmed-over crap.”

Netheraire barked at Don, “The Barbamin are heading for the top of the Tower! Let’s go!”

Don looked at them blankly and then watched fascinated as the Barbamin ascended the stairs, their little legs a flurry of feverish activity.

“
Well, hell, if those little bastards are determined to get on with this, then what can I do? Shit!”

Straining, Don picked himself up and looked at the trapezoid of light shining down on the strange menagerie.
What a screwed up bunch of warriors we are!

“
OK, fellow shitheads, let’s get on with this!”

He worked his weary way over to the first step and began the long spiraling trek to the top. Nothing would work unless he made it there. Behind him but beyond his peripheral vision, the snake slithered along patiently, taking it slow and smooth so everyone could keep up.

With the Loopohmin covering the rear and the Linksmin up ahead just behind the ants, the menagerie moved upward. When they came to the first window, Don looked and saw a scene from one of his childhood books about dinosaurs. There was something of a jungle with odd sorts of animals lurking about.

Don experienced a moment of vertigo because, as Nersite had said, there were no Tower walls visible beneath the window, as if the viewer was suspended several feet above ground level.

They continued up and the land through the window became more barren. As Nersite had described, little humps of hills appeared to the south and beyond to the west and east. The Mountains of the Sky were jagged and devoid of vegetation, while Dream River was narrow and meandered far to the east. In higher windows, the mountains started to soften their profile, while the river meandered west, then east, when it became broad wetlands, then a focused big river. Meanwhile, the little humps grew into volcanic cones and vast spreading lakes of molten rock that cooled, finally layered over by succeeding lakes and rivers of molten lava.

If they hadn’t been in the midst of a war, Don could have spent uncounted hours marveling at the details out each window, watching a broad span of natural history take place.

As they neared the top, he anticipated the platform. He heard shuffling feet and voices. Who awaited them: priests, soldiers, the chief and his tacticians?

“
Wait,” he said loudly. “Everyone stop. We have to know what and who’s up there before we go another step.”

At this level, rather than one narrow window, wide openings between heavy wooden posts and narrow adobe columns stretched around one hundred eighty degrees facing east.

Don crept to eastern edge and looked over the Valle Abajo. He felt himself swaying in a single, large motion as vertigo threatened to bring him down. His entire body seemed shaken by the majestic sweep of the Valle Abajo, the Dream River with its entangled bosque, the dark blue Mountains of the Sky far to the east, the barren table of Seared Meadow on the right periphery of his vision, the spires of the Piralltah Steeples to his left, and the sickening descent down the Tower to the black cliff at his feet.

From this vantage point above the visible walls of the Tower, he saw the present time.

Regaining his balance, though not lessening the throb in his head, he stretched what felt like arms to the sky. It seemed as if he was in his human body now, though he could have simply extended his long deer neck, thrusting his antlers upward. He couldn’t be sure.

Fighting the urge to keep contemplating the scene, Don tightly squeezed his eyes closed.

At that signal, the clanspeople on the ground grew quiet as they took cover behind rocks, ducking among sage bushes, and hunkering behind mounds of dirt. The Soreyes along the top of the mesa, unaware of what was happening on the Tower, continued throwing rocks, shooting arrows, and pitching spears for several seconds. Realizing the change, they stopped.

Someone looked up.

“
What the hell? Look to the Tower! A stranger stands there as if in victory!”

All the Soreyes looked up, frozen in place like stunned victims at the relentless approach of a wall of water and mud in a storm surge.

Unfortunately, the Barbamin, having excellent communication by scent but poor eyesight and hearing, ignored Don’s call to wait. They continued their furious assault on the platform above.

The first lines of ant soldiers disappeared over the last step while hordes of comrades followed without pause. For another minute, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Then, Don heard a hoarse, unfamiliar voice.

“
Damn, I just got bit by an ant!” There was a pause of about ten seconds. Then, “Shit! There’s a whole swarm of ants up here! How the hell—”

Don turned and, opening his eyes, watched the last of the Barbamin horde reach the platform.
Well, either this screws us totally or provides advance scouting!

The boards of the platform started buckling and groaning as a thunderstorm of stamping and blows to the floor transpired. It was as if a herd of buffalo had dropped on it. The screams and curses hurt Don’s now more sensitive ears.

He wondered how he would appear to the Soreyes: as a fellow human or a deer? What had the guards seen down below? However, such reverie was short-lived because Soreyes started storming down the stairs, headed right for him and the menagerie.

A moment of shocked immobility froze both sides. Then the Soreye priests slid their hands to one end of their long shafts and reared back to bash their way through the unlikely mob below. The Loopohmin lunged first, knocking the Soreyes on their backs while groups of Nohmin pushed them onto the stairs.

Don, anticipating the Nohmin’s intention, stepped quickly aside. The Soreyes rolled down the stairs with the Loopohmin hot on their trail. The Linksmin, who jumped below, waited patiently for the rolling bodies to reach them and leaped up as one. Slashing like buzz saws through the Soreyes, they increased rather than slowed their downward motion. The Soreyes piled up in a heap, helpless to change direction, as the Tower walls curved.