The Haven

by Graham Diamond

Des, lying nearby, turned on his back and opened his eyes. The voices had awakened him. He raised himself on one elbow and glared at Nigel. “What were you saying?” he asked, certain he had misunderstood.

  This would be the hardest part, Nigel knew, to convince him. ‘I’m going to stay in Free-Earth,” he said evenly.

  Des’s face grew red. “You’re what?”

  “I have to, Des. It’s important.”

  “What’s the matter with you, man? The Empire’s very existence is threatened, and you want to stay here to read books?” His shouting woke the others. They sat up dumbly, saying nothing.

  “It’s because we’re so threatened that I have to stay,” said Nigel. “Don’t you see?”

  “No I don’t see! I think you’re out of your head!” Carlo got up and tried to calm the flaring tempers. “Listen, Nigel,” he said, “I understand how you must feel, but they need us at home, you know they do. Once the dogs are beaten, then it’ll be different. Then we can all come back and spend as much time here as you like.”

  Nigel sighed. “I know it’s your duty to return,” he said. “But I also know the value of what we found here. Look, I’m not a soldier, what use can I be against the Master’s hordes? That’s a job for men like all of you. But here, among the Ruins, I can be of great value to the Empire.”

  Des shook his finger at Nigel. “Now you listen to me, Nigel. The Council put me in charge of this mission, don’t forget that! And you’ll do as I order even if I have to bring you home bound and gagged!”

  Now Nigel grew angry. He bit his lip and stared at Des. “What’s the matter with you? With all of you?” he shouted. “These books have the potential of changing the entire future of mankind. They cannot be discarded like so much trash.”

  “No one ever said that,” replied Des, calming himself. “Look, if you like, we’ll stay a day or two longer and try to dig up as many more books as we can. We’ll even load the mules till they’re ready to collapse, but that’s all we can do.”

  “The books must be brought to the Haven as quickly as possible,” agreed Nigel. “I have no argument with that.”

  Des tilted his head and raised his brows. “Then you agree? You’re not going to be so obstinate?”

  Nigel shrugged. “I never was. These books have to be taken home. And I want all of you to leave as soon as possible. Today, if you can. But I’m going to stay.”

  “Alone?” muttered Rolf. “But you can’t do that! How will you ever be able to return home?”

  “I won’t. I’ll spend the winter here, and wait for you to come back for me next summer.”

  “Out of the question,” said Des. “What makes you think we’ll be able to come back next year? What makes you think anyone will want to?”

  “Someone will,” replied Nigel. “Someone will.”

  Hector growled. “May I say something?” he said. “I understand nothing of what these books mean, but if they are as important as Nigel believes, then perhaps it is wise if he stays. After all, like he said, he’s not really a soldier. And one man’s presence won’t be missed —2

  Des shook his head. “Absolutely not! For him to stay alone is insane, and for us to stay with him is even more ridiculous. Maybe he can’t be much use in the war, but we can! And I have every intention of doing as the Elder instructed and returning home as quickly as possible.”

  “Listen to me,” said Hector soothingly. “Why not do as Nigel says? Go back today if you can. Dane and Sesto will guide you. I’ll stay here with Nigel and lead him back when his work is completed.”

  “Are you mad, too?” said Basil. “What of our promise to Naftali? We gave our promise only to stay a short while —”

  “Naftali will understand,” said Nigel. “As you leave tell him of my request to stay a while longer and explain how important it is. We haven’t broken any of his laws, he’ll agree.”

  “You know I can force you to come back with us,” said Des.

  Nigel nodded sourly.

  “And you can’t be talked out of this foolishness? You’ve made up your mind?”

  “You have your duty, Des. I have mine. Even Elon will understand that.”

  Des threw up his hands in exasperation. “You think the two of you will be all right, then?” he said, looking to the wolf.

  “We’ll manage, Captain.”

  Des took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. “All right, Nigel. I think it’s a mistake, but you win. But my conscience won’t allow me to leave one man on his own. The dangers going home are too great, even with Hector to guide you.” He turned to his men. “Rolf, Basil, I want you to stay also.”

  Basil groaned, Rolf spat. “I have a meeting with the Master,” said Rolf. “And I don’t want to miss it.”

  “You won’t,” said Des. “I’ll save his hide until you come and get it.”

  Nigel was clearly surprised by all this, but he was also grateful. These were Des’s best men, and they would be more than needed on the journey home as well as with the diggings.

  Sinjon looked at Des, perplexed. “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  Des grinned sheepishly. “Nigel is far too puny to carry all those books by himself.”

  By late afternoon the others were ready to leave. Nigel, along with Hector, Rolf, and Basil watched sadly and waved as their companions packed their horses and rode from sight. It was a difficult parting in the light of all the adventures they had shared. But they were also looking forward to the great work that lay ahead in the Ruins. Yet even this might have been different had they known of the events that had taken place at home since they left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  It was a cool day for the hottest month of the year; mild breezes blew down from the faraway mountains and swept gently through the Valley. Elon walked briskly along the parapet of the wall and stood in the afternoon shadow of the high tower. Assan, dressed in the blue of the Guard instead of the fine quilted garb of the Council, bowed slightly and greeted him. The tough old Lord wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gestured across the Plain.

  Elon stood firm, unperturbed, as he shaded his eyes and peered toward the foothills. “So they’ve come at last,” he whispered.

  Assan lowered his thick black brows and scowled. “There it is,” he said. “The Master and all his hordes.”

  Moving down from the hills came a dark shadowed mass of fur, swarming over the ridges like a plague of locusts.

  “How many would you guess there are?” asked Elon.

  “Better ask Corin,” he said, gazing up atop the tower. The falcon sat rigidly perched at the highest spiral staring, but when he caught sight of the Elder he flapped his wings and glided down, landing atop the crenelated wall.

  “Have you had a good look at them?” asked Elon.

  The bird nodded darkly. “Too good, Lord. It makes me shudder. They’ve been in sight since late morning.”

  “What do you estimate their strength to be?”

  ‘Too soon to tell, Lord Elon. But there are thousands. Fates protect us, they’re more than I can count.”

  Elon, ignoring the gloom of Corin’s voice, turned back to Assan. “Has everything been done? Are all preparations made?”

  “Everything. The Valley’s been completely evacuated. Every settlement and farm has been abandoned, as you ordered. We’ve set up tents in Central Square, housed as many as we could in homes, set up rationing throughout the city.”

  “Good, good,” mumbled Elon. “But what about the wolves? We still have our promise to Dinjar to give them shelter.”

  “That’s taken care of also. We brought cubs and females first and let Marco handle the Hunters. Some are already stationed along with our boys at the Great Gate.”

  The Elder drew a deep breath, then let it out with a sigh of relief. “You did a fine job, brother,” he said, “a very fine job. But how about our defenses? And what about the livestock?”

  “The low wall around the yards is finished; we’ve jammed all the catt
le into the stables and corrals. And I’ve ordered troops to be stationed at all times. We had to abandon some of the sheep; many ran astray, you know, but apart from that, our livestock is safe.”

  Elon stared down in front of the Great Gate. A few hundred paces in front a newly built stone wall rose from the new road, curved south and ran as far as the old road. And behind it were a hundred Guardsmen. “Well done!” said Elon. “I didn’t expect it to be ready so soon.”

  Assan beamed, “Our boys labored day and night to finish it,” he said. “And we gave our word; when the Master arrived, it would be done.”

  The Elder turned back to Corin. “And what of your flocks? Are they all cared for? Are all birds inside the walls?”

  The falcon nodded. “Except for our Searchers, yes. All predators are standing by, as you asked, and messenger-ravens are scouring the wood for additional help. Now we wait only for your command.”

  Elon smiled thinly, pressing his lips tightly together. “Then things may not be as bad as they seem,” he said. “At least we’re properly organized.”

  Just then, an archer shouted down from his post in the tower. “Scouts approach the walls!” he called.

  Assan leaned over the wall and gasped. About eight large dogs, black as night and fierce as the winter winds, came bounding along the old road. A few hundred meters away they stopped.

  “Man the walls!” cried Assan. And dozens of archers scrambled from below, took up positions, bows at the ready.

  “Shall we shoot?” asked one.

  Assan was about to say yes, when Elon stopped him. “I doubt eight Scouts are about to attack the Haven by themselves,” he said sourly. “Hold your weapons at the ready for a moment. Let’s see what they’re up to.”

  And as he finished one of the Scouts strode brazenly ahead of the others and came mere paces away. He gazed up at the Elder and stopped directly below. “I bear a message from Lord Toland, Master of All,” he barked.

  Elon glowered down at the dog.

  “The Master bids men to come out from their hiding place and face him in battle,” the dog snarled.

  Elon continued to stare, but made no response.

  The Scout paced uneasily for a moment, then snapped: “If you will not meet us in combat, so be it! Cower like females, if you like. But the Master promises this: Night-Birds will feast on your flesh!”

  A volley of arrows sailed down like rain and caught him before he could take another breath. For a second he crawled, then he slumped over. And a great cheer arose from the parapet; the archers began to shoot at the other Scouts. But they made no move to run. They were barely in range of the arrows and they knew it. Standing their ground, they began to laugh and taunt the men. And from somewhere in the back, one of them raced forward with a decomposed head between its jaws. It was a wolfs head, and the Scout dragged it through the dirt, cocked his leg at it and laughed.

  Assan glanced to Elon. “What the —”

  Suddenly there were great wails and moans from below. Elon whirled and looked down. A pack of Hunters had formed at the inside of the Great Gate and were howling and screaming, begging the sentries to open it and let them out.

  “What’s going on?” gasped Elon.

  Corin began to shake and cry himself. “Mercy of the Fates!” he cried, “Don’t you see? It’s Dinjar’s head they drag through the dirt! Look closely, my Lord, they disgrace the corpse of the King of the Wolves!”

  And the moans of the anguished wolves became terrible, ghastly; it was as if each one was sharing Dinjar’s fate. Assan grew red and shook his fists at the laughing Scouts. “You’ll pay for this,” he shouted. But the dogs paid no heed. If anything, they laughed even louder.

  “Shoot them all!” yelled Assan. “I want every one killed!” A hailstorm of arrows whistled down, falling mere steps before them.

  “Damn their eyes,” hissed Elon. “They know exactly how far a bow can shoot.”

  “Then call your archers off,” said Corin. “Save your arrows and your breath. They’re doing this purposely, not for us, but for the Hunters. They hope to demoralize them.”

  “And they’ve done a good job,” said Assan bitterly. “Look. They cry and whimper like worthless hounds.”

  From down the arched way that led to the wall a great wolf came leaping and bounding. It was Marco. He raced before his howling Hunters and sought to comfort them. “Our revenge will come, I promise you,” he barked. “But not until the proper time. Not until we are ready.”

  “No, Marco!” cried one. “We cannot let this shame go unpunished. We must repay the dogs for what they do, and do it now!”

  “That’s right,” howled another through bitter tears. “It’s better to die than be shamed like this!”

  The Hunters began to snarl with rage. “Will you not lead us into battle, Marco? Will you not stand beside us?”

  Marco looked at them through watery eyes, shaking his head. “No, my Hunters. The enemy sets us a trap. Shall we fall into it like cubs?”

  “You are king,” growled a Seeker. “And a true king would not let this be done. He would lead us, even to death, if it came to that.”

  “And if we fight now, and die,” replied Marco. “What good will come of it? Who will provide food for our cubs and females? Who will provide shelter for the old and sick? Will men be given the added burden of caring for our Packs? Listen to me, brothers. I am as much pained by this awful thing as you, but we must wait, strike when the time is right. Dinjar himself would have said as much, and if he were here, so would Hector.”

  At that, the Hunters became morose and began to sulk. But despite their desire for revenge, they knew in their hearts that Marco had spoken wisely. It was not easy to swallow, but it was the right thing. And slowly they lowered their heads and made their way from the Gate.

  Elon watched and listened as Marco walked with them and led them away. “He’ll be a fine king,” he said. “A noble leader of his tribe.”

  Corin lowered his beak and cast his eyes down. “He’s a fine one now, to have survived such a test as this.”

  And so the siege of the Haven began. From that day forward the dogs were never out of sight. The Empire was shattered, the Valley deserted; only the ancient walls of the Haven stood as the last outpost of man and his civilization. And if it fell, truly the Master would rule over all the world.

  *

  Des held tightly onto the reins, clutching at his sword. Then he leaned forward and gently stroked the mare’s muzzle. He could feel the horse trembling with fear. “Good girl,” he whispered soothingly. “Good girl. It’ll only take a little while, then it’ll be all over. And there’ll be plenty of hay, and maybe some sugar.”

  The horse shook her mane and stared dumbly ahead. Des drew his blade from its sheath and crouched low in the saddle. He glanced about to make sure everyone was ready. Sinjon took a deep breath; he wiped the perspiration from his brow. Next to him, Carlo said a silent prayer. Dane and Sesto scratched the earth with their paws, nervously awaiting the order. Des took one final look about, then gritted his teeth.

  “Now!”

  He kicked his heels into the mare’s soft flesh; the horse lurched ahead. And he rode like he had never ridden before. Over the knoll, down between the junipers. The mare reached the broad flat and ran for her life. A dozen screaming Scouts came yapping at her heels. Des swung his sword in broad sweeps on both sides, keeping them at bay.

  “Riders!” shouted a Scout. “Men are loose in the Valley!”

  Lepidus came bounding up, a Pack of fearsome Warriors at his side. They came within steps of the dodging rider. But just then, from another direction, another rider appeared, and then yet another after him. The mares zigged and zagged as the dogs chased as best they could. Howls of commands were barked through the camp — hundreds of sleepy-eyed mongrels leaped to their feet. Dane and Sesto cut through the deep grass, charged right amid the commotion and left the dogs gaping with disbelief.

  “Where in blazes did they come
from?” barked Kindari, confounded at the sight of his carefully planned defenses being breached by a handful of men and wolves.

  “They must have sneaked behind us and made their way from the forest,” cried the stunned Matsui.

  “Well, what matter?” snapped Kindari. “We must catch them. And fast! They cannot be allowed to reach the walls!”

  Des charged ahead, never looking back. He could hear the hooves of the other mares close by; that was enough. And slowly the great towers of the Haven were growing larger before his eyes. A few minutes more, he knew, if they could just make it for a few minutes more.

  The moon was hanging hazy and low; the archer strained his eyes, trying to make something out of the commotion that was going on down on the Plain. The dogs were howling; many were running, as though they were set upon by demons.

  “What in Heaven is going on?” one bowman asked.

  “Don’t ask me,” replied his companion. “They’re going mad. Wait a minute! Look at that!”

  The second archer’s eyes grew wide with shock. “Riders! Men! And they’re coming this way! Quick, give the signal. Get every bowman on the walls. They must get through!”

  Des heaved his blade, cutting clumsily into a leaping Warrior. The dog’s eyes bulged as he fell. He heard the cry of wounded dogs a dozen times and he knew the others were still with him. They would make it yet! He winced and looked back over his shoulder. A ringing shriek filled his ears. He saw a horse rear in panic. Dozens of dogs were all over it in a flash. The rider fell to the ground. Just who it was he could not see, but one thing was certain — one of his men would not make it to safety.

  Nevil rolled on the ground, whipped his dagger and wielded it in a frenzy, cutting and slashing as the dogs bore down. Blood poured over his tunic, into his eyes. He struggled as three Warriors leaped and lunged from behind, their fangs aimed for his throat. He screamed as the teeth bit through his flesh, and then he screamed no more.

  From the walls the archers pounded the dogs with arrows, sending many scurrying back to the Plain. But Nevil lay still in his blood, dead, only a few hundred meters from the walls.