Pushing back the tears, Kahuel took a deep breath and rose to his feet. “Can we expect some help from Kassouk now? It's too late for the dead... but we have severe injuries.”
“Unfortunately, we cannot communicate with our continent. Something is dampening the signal. Our phasers also stopped working as soon as we set foot on land.” She glanced up the green and black rocky slopes. “Could be some natural interference, the magnetism in the rock... or something nefarious.”
But Kahuel's concern was for his injured men. “You mean you can't get help? We are on our own?”
“We are.” The princess didn't seem distraught. “If they don't hear from us, the Mutants of Kassouk have no reason to believe we survived the typhoon.”
Kahuel shivered at the implications. “If they think we are all dead, they won't come looking for us.”
The princess nodded. “And knowing the Council of Kassouk, even if my father insists upon a search party, they will not approve the expense. They are more concerned about finishing their Princely Palace.”
“But your father is their king, the most powerful man on New Earth. He cannot just give you up for dead.” Family came first in Kahuel's mind. “I sure hope my parents in Yalta are searching for me.”
“It doesn't make sense to risk more lives, if they are convinced we all died at sea.” The princess smiled sadly. “Besides, you should know even a king doesn't have the freedom to follow his heart. The welfare of his subjects comes first.”
“I don't agree.” To Kahuel, blood spoke loudest. That's why he'd become a warrior, leaving his older siblings to deal with politics. And now, politics had killed his big brother. Anger rose up his throat, but he must honor his brother's vow. No matter how much he resented the Mutant princess, his first duty was to her. A warrior always completed his mission.
Princess Esperana gazed calmly into his face. “Can you direct your men to rebuild the boat for the voyage home?”
Kahuel scoffed at the bleak irony. “I'm no engineer, but I can tell you that the Galleon is far beyond repair.” He shook his head sadly and gazed down at his brother's pale face. “Basilk was the boat builder.”
“I could help you design another boat, a simpler one.” The Princess sounded serious.
“You?” Kahuel hid his surprise. “But these men know nothing about building boats either. And we have no tools.”
“You really have no such knowledge?” The question carried a hint of disapproval.
“I'm a warrior. I barely know the bow from the stern.” Kahuel hated boats... always did, always would. He never wanted to set foot on one again. At least here the ground was solid underfoot. “We don't even know where we are, or in which direction is home.”
“Still. We owe it to ourselves to try.” But Esperana's voice had lost its edge.
Kahuel swallowed hard and nodded. “I'll ask around and see what we can do, but don't get your hopes up, Princess. If the Galleon couldn't make that crossing, a lesser boat certainly won't either.”
The princess arched her brow in mild disapproval. “I hope you are wrong, Black Jaguar. Because if you are right, your brother's death is even more regrettable for all of us. We are stranded here... indefinitely.”
Chapter Three
Nine Human bodies wrapped in sail cloth, lay, lined up on a pyre of drift wood, along with three felines and five horses. Kahuel emptied half a barrel of precious lamp oil on the corpses under the weary stare of the invalids sitting in a row behind the pyre, at the edge of the trees in the shade.
The wretched cavalry, mostly out of uniform, stood between the pyre and the waterline, to one side, with unsaddled horses. The sea had claimed most of the equine equipment. To the other side, the felines heeled at the beastmasters' feet, while sailors and Mutants stood in the middle.
Diablo nudged his thigh, and Kahuel scratched the jaguar's head. He enjoyed the discomfort of the high and mighty Mutants in the close proximity of cadavers. Death was a rare occurrence among them. They also hated animals and preferred to rely on technology. Humans, on the other hand, had long ago learned to train animals, and it had served them well. Kahuel was glad to be born with five fingers, despite his Goddian blood. He fully embraced his Human heritage.
Setting aside the empty oil barrel, Kahuel took his flint to tinder. The flames fanned by the ocean breeze rose high in the pure blue sky. Thick smoke and the stench of burning flesh eddied downwind. The seabirds stopped their cries as the hissing of damp wood and the searing of flesh filled the hot afternoon.
Horses whinnied and pawed the sand. The beastmasters kept their animals in check despite the lack of leashes, whispering soft words, patting a neck, scratching a head. Diablo, who had seen fire many times, sat quietly on his haunches, as if he understood the solemnity of the moment.
The warriors who, like Basilk, believed in the old deities, intoned a martial song of worthy death in battle, and rewards for the brave in the afterlife. Those, like Kahuel and the Mutants, who believed in the Great Engineer of the universe, remained silent as they watched their unfortunate companions burn, never to be seen again.
Kahuel would miss his older brother. Ancestors of Old Earth, the planet where all Humans come from, I commend to you the soul of Basilk of Yalta, a brave man, father and husband, and a kind brother.
Although unsure about the existence of Old Earth, the planet of legends and ancient beliefs, Kahuel had no doubt the Great Engineer would grant Basilk whatever supreme honor He reserved to the worthy. Although Basilk had worshiped the old deities, with the exception of a few excesses, he had been kind and decent all his life. And he would have made a just king, given a chance.
Now in charge of the Human contingent from Yalta on this forsaken land, Kahuel resented the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. At least, now he was on firm soil, where a warrior should be. But his people would look to him for leadership, and he would have to act like the noble leader he never wanted to be.
Kahuel didn't dare refuse the responsibility. Without him as a buffer, the Mutants might exploit the Yaltans shamelessly, without regard for their freedom, their pride... or their survival. Like they treated Humans in their own city of Kassouk... or so he'd heard.
It would take hours for the bodies to burn. So, after the songs and silent prayers, Kahuel dismissed his warriors with a wave of the hand. “There is work to do.”
Sailors and warriors gathered around him. “Do we know where we are?”
They had noticed, like him, that the suns rose on the wrong side of the water. “There is only one explanation. We must be on an island, facing the Eastern Continent, but far enough that we cannot see its coast.”
“Must be a very large island,” a warrior said in awe. “With several mountain ranges on the horizon...”
The old sailor stood in a challenging stance. “There were no large islands on our captain's maps.”
“Could be the maps were old, or the island is new...” Kahuel had no explanation either. “These things happen. It's what makes exploration a constant discovery.”
The old sailor nodded to Kahuel's logic.
“But since we are here for a while, we have to get organized.” Kahuel motioned to a group of beastmasters. “Set a perimeter of felines and sentries against wild animal attacks. We don’t know what kind of life populates this jungle.”
Men and women nodded and walked away with their felines.
Then Kahuel addressed other eager faces. Giving them work would help them cope and keep up their spirit. “We should erect tents on the beach, using bamboo, planking, and torn sails.”
“We could build simple shelters with palm fronds,” a sailor suggested.
“Great idea. You are in charge of it.” Kahuel enjoyed the spark of pride in the man's eyes. Kahuel turned to the cook. “Prepare a meal with the last of the supplies the tide brought in from the wreckage.”
“What shall we do for food tomorrow?” a practical female warrior asked.
“We'll dive for salvage. W
e'll also hunt, fish, and gather jungle fruit.”
Soon, everyone had a task to perform. With still a few hours left before sunset, Kahuel whistled and Diablo joined him.
“Let's go explore the stream we found this morning.” He waved to the sentries and followed Diablo into the forest.
As they strode along the stream uphill, Kahuel noticed unknown fruit and plants that might prove edible.
When he came upon a crashing waterfall plunging into a deep green pool, Kahuel shed his clothes and slid into the deliciously cool water. A swimming enthusiast, Diablo joined him in the pool. Kahuel let the fresh water wash away the stench of death, the sand, and the salty sea spray from his skin.
Suddenly, Kahuel had the same sensation of being watched he'd felt that morning. Diablo's round ears rotated, alert to any sound. How much could he hear over the waterfall? As far as Kahuel could tell, the insects kept chirping, and nothing unusual disturbed the warble of evening birds.
As if answering a call, Diablo slunk out of the water. His supple black coat, gleaming wet, twitched with anticipation. Intrigued, Kahuel followed him, clad only in his loincloth. Imitating the silent stalk of the jaguar, he stepped gingerly barefoot on the spongy mosses and ferns of the rich forest floor.
Then he heard a pristine laugh.
Kahuel froze. Diablo loped ahead among the ferns.
In the tall grass, a young woman frolicked with a large, spotted panther. The lovely girl had long flowing hair of deep honey. A natural silk dress hugged her slim, graceful curves and sparkled with seashells that caught the evening light filtering through the foliage. The light dress revealed golden shoulders. Kahuel couldn't help but notice the kind expression in her striking turquoise almond eyes.
Where did she come from? She was not one of his warriors, and he'd been told this virgin land had no Human population.
Kahuel wanted to call back Diablo for the woman's safety, but far from aggressive, the jaguar trotted toward her and the panther, tail up, like a kitten ready to join the fun. To Kahuel's amazement, the panther welcomed the jaguar with playful grunts. The woman boldly embraced Diablo, her bare arms reaching around the cat's muscled shoulders.
The jaguar licked her face, a rare show of affection. Kahuel had never seen Diablo so friendly with anyone else. He envied the jaguar's familiar bond with such a stunning natural beauty.
Forgetting propriety, and his lack of clothes, Kahuel approached the lovely tableau.
The panther growled a warning. Kahuel stopped while the woman soothed her feline. She turned to face Kahuel, and her turquoise eyes opened wide as she stared at him. When Diablo came back to him and heeled, the woman's face tensed into a pretty frown. Then she gasped and fled through the dense vegetation, leaving the panther behind. In an instant she'd disappeared, as if she'd never been there. Would her feline attack now?
Diablo walked nonchalantly back to the panther and they rubbed heads. Then the jaguar rolled over, belly up. Realizing the other feline was female, Kahuel prudently left Diablo to his new conquest. But as he retraced his steps toward the waterfall and pulled on his clothes, the enchanting vision of the native woman remained etched in his mind. Who was she? And why did she flee?
He intended to find out.
* * *
Talina ran breathlessly, barefoot through the rain forest. When the birds stopped chirping, and startled cries of dismay from disturbed animals popped into her head, she didn't bother to apologize. Never in her life had she felt so flattered and humiliated at the same time... and intrigued. Panting, she slowed her pace to catch her breath and attempted to calm her roiling thoughts. She couldn't show herself to her people in such mental disarray. It would shatter the sacred laws of harmony.
Then again, the apparition of the dark stranger in the clearing had already done that. Breaking all taboos, he'd stared straight at her. Never had Talina gazed into such deep emerald eyes, seen such resolve in a face, such muscled shoulders, or such tawny skin. And she'd never seen a red crystal like the one on his chest either.
But something was very wrong with the man. He had not acknowledged her in his mind. How dare he refuse to respond after such bold advances? She shuddered at the thought. Not only he'd insulted her, but his very refusal to touch her mind made him utterly evil.
Yet, he couldn't be all bad if the black jaguar loved him.
But the very sight of the stranger, and the knowledge of his desire for her, upset Talina. She couldn't think of him that way. Unlike other girls her age, who'd chosen a life mate in the spring, she must remain chaste. Since there was no eligible prince of royal blood on this land, she would never have her own family. The rules of the Chosen were strict for a reason. Any mistake would bring chaos to their blessed harmony... and severe punishment from the Star People.
Talina pushed back a bouncing strand of golden hair and rearranged her dress before crossing the boundaries of the thriving settlement. In the wide clearing outside the sacred cave, men, women and children hummed songs while they worked. Early summer was a busy time.
She nodded to the group on the left by the ancestral tree. The men kept their gaze downcast, but the women smiled back as they unraveled silk cocoons. Another group twisted the threads together and spun them on a wooden spindle. Closer to the high rock slab in front of the cave, under a canopy of fronds, Talina passed an old crone weaving the silk into long strips of cloth on a wide vertical bamboo loom. Around her, children sat on the grass, watching intently.
To one side another group carded wool from overflowing woven baskets. The gatherers had plucked it from thorny bushes up the rocky slopes, where the wild sheep shed their winter coats. At the end of summer, Talina would lead the clan in collecting the fluffy balls from the cotton plants in the dry plains beyond the mountain range.
She shaded her eyes to scan for her brother in a circle of men shaping slivers of black, shiny rock for shaving. She couldn't see him around the settlement.
Closing her eyes, she hailed him. “Vanaru! Brother!”
“Talina.” The gentle touch of her brother's mind filled her with warmth and love. “What's causing your dismay, Sister?”
She saw him in her mind, eyes closed, his shaved head and hairless chest gleaming in the warm glow of the eternal flames. He sat cross-legged, hands on his silk-clad knees inside the holy cave, and she tasted sour guilt at interrupting his meditation. Around him, in the white marble dome, the Guardians, giant white snakes protecting the sacred relics, formed a sea of undulating coils. And high in their niches, the seven relics of the Star People pulsed with a red glow.
“I've seen pure evil, Brother... foreigners who refuse mind-talk.”
Vanaru opened his striking turquoise almond eyes. “I've seen them, too. But among them is one who is different. I felt her. She could be the Lost Daughter.”
“Alive? After all this time?” Long ago, according to legend, a handsome stranger with six fingers had taken the shamaness of the Chosen away into the sky, in a magic flying machine. “If the Lost Daughter is here, does it mean the prophecy is coming true?”
On the screen of her closed eyelids, Vanaru stood slowly and walked amidst the writhing white snakes. “Gather the clan.”
Talina opened her eyes but kept contact with her brother as she directed her steps to the tall tree at the left of the rock slab. Many silk ropes of bright colors hung from a low branch. At the end of each one dangled a bamboo piece with holes of various sizes and shapes. When swung overhead in wide circles, each made a different sound that could be heard from the sea to the mountains, and beyond. “Which one should I use, Brother?”
It took Vanaru a few seconds to answer. “Use the red rope”.
“The red rope?” Talina shivered at the implications. “I guess we have no other choice.”
* * *
The sun set behind the far mountains when Kahuel reached the beach camp. The survivors had lit small cooking fires. Dark shadows stretched on the forest and the shore. A low, modulated sound spread ove
rhead. The beastmasters guarding the edges of the camp glanced at each other, immediately on alert. The cats fretted, their tails swishing the sand.
Kahuel tripped under the weight of the tropical fruit he carried. He caught himself and balanced the makeshift sac he'd made of his tunic upon his shoulder. The oppressive sound rose in pitch, like a malevolent wind rushing through a narrow mountain pass. But there was no wind. It didn't sound like an animal call. The tiny hair at his nape rose, and a shiver of dread crawled down his back.
The people on the beach stopped all activity and stood frozen, listening with a frown on worried faces.
A warrior grimaced and shook his head. “It's a bad omen.”
“It's the voice of the dead,” said another. “They are upset for dying in a strange land.”
“Leave the dead alone. Worry about the living.” Kahuel slid the heavy fruit burden off his shoulder and handed it to the man. “Where is Princess Esperana?”
The warrior took the improvised sac and slung it over his back, then motioned with his chin further down the beach. “She's in the first tent, My Lord.”
Kahuel did a double take at the title of Lord, but he was now the royal in charge. “Just call me Black Jaguar. And pass on the word.”
“Yes, My... Black Jaguar.” The man bobbed awkwardly then carried away the fruit.
Kahuel ambled toward the row of white tents made of torn sails. A dozen Grays stood guard in a line, blocking the far end of the cove. Kahuel wished the chilling sound would stop. What was it?
As he hurried through the camp, his people stared at him questioningly. He answered them with reassuring smiles and nods of encouragement, as if everything would be fine. But he had his doubts. When the strange noise dropped to a low moan and waned, Kahuel breathed a sigh of relief. Then the sound stopped.
The Grays guarding the Mutant camp remained unruffled by the noise. Impassible, they didn't give him a second glance and let him through as he rushed past them. The flat of the first tent was open and Kahuel barged inside, upsetting the flame of the scented candle burning on a stick planted in the sand. He then realized he should not have walked in unannounced.
Black Jaquar Page 3
