by John Marco
The shedding time.
Kadar gripped Istikah’s reins tighter, sensing her excitement. Like all snakes, the rass periodically shed their skins. It was at this time, during the shedding, that they were most vulnerable. If they could surprise the creature in its lair while it was shedding. . . .
Kadar didn’t like the idea of rushing into the rocks, but they needed to hurry to take the advantage. Istikah sensed his decision in a wordless instant, moving slowly toward the rocks. Such was the bond between them, so strong now that Kadar hardly needed tack at all. Istikah wore a saddle, which Kadar was strapped onto at the thighs to keep from sliding off her pitched back. A few light squeezes of his thighs, some gentle tugs of the reins, were all that was needed to control the kreel. They had become one. When they were together, they were more than a pair. Istikah picked her way over the sands, her powerful, biped limbs making no sound. She had sharp claws on her front limbs, which were much shorter than her legs but excellent for close combat. As she moved toward the rocks, she lowered her reptilian head, her large eyes narrowing, her tongue still pricking at the air. Kadar untied the shield from her harness and slid his left arm into its straps. With his right arm he took up the spear. Crouching low on his mount, he kept the spear out before him. If he’d suspected the rass would be out in the open, he would have chosen his whip, but if the beast was shedding he might be able to deal a quick killing blow without first subduing it.
Istikah’s wide feet stalked through the sand, and the ground began to harden as they entered the rocks. An archway of stone bid them entrance, and soon they were in a mountainous pass, very narrow and tall. Two walls of steep rock climbed above them, creating an avenue that split off into various, winding directions. Istikah paused, taking measure of their surroundings. Kadar watched carefully, assuring himself that the rass had not seen them. If, as he suspected, the rass was shedding, it would be too preoccupied to sense them, and they had entered downwind of the rocks, giving Istikah and her sharp senses the advantage. Kadar didn’t need to tell his mount what he wanted; Istikah probed the air for a moment, then chose her direction. The scent of the skin was strongest to the right. Kadar hefted his spear, still crouching behind his shield as Istikah approached the scent. Blood pumped like thunder in his temples. He was on a razor’s edge, lusting for the coming battle. All the rage he had felt at Jitendra’s death had been channeled toward these monster serpents, and Kadar knew his anger would sustain him. Twenty feet, thirty feet, a hundred feet or more; it didn’t matter how big this creature was. He could slay it because he was Kadar. He was cursed to live without his beloved, and no rass, however fierce, could interfere with that destiny.
At the edge of another narrow canyon, Istikah again paused. There were rocks in the way and she dropped down behind them, letting her long neck move her probing eyes and tongue along the scene. This was it, she told her master silently. Her primitive brain relayed the fact as clearly as speech. The shedding rass was beyond these rocks, hidden somewhere in the narrow gorge. It was easy for the snake to make its way into the crevice, and Kadar knew that rass often shed their skins in such places, away from prying eyes. Again he sensed the serpent’s vulnerability, sure that he could easily spear the beast before it noticed his attack. With luck it might not even be able to turn. The gorge was only about eight feet wide, and the rocks on both sides formed two sheer walls. There was light at the other end, space enough for the creature to flee, but if he speared it fast and true, there would be no escape.
Kadar pulled the wrappings from his face. He drew a slow, silent breath. He could feel the strength of his armor against his chest and legs and arms, but he hated the confinement of helmets. They were the garb of northern cowards. Good men of Jador wore no such defenses. They faced their opponents bravely, with full, unmasked faces.
At his command, Istikah stepped up over the rocks, staying as low as her big body would allow as she entered the lair. Sunlight slanted down from the stone walls, but much of the gorge was obscured by shadows and jutting rocks. Kadar studied the tunnel of stone, looking for a trace of the serpent. Anxious thoughts raced between him and Istikah through their arcane, silent link. Kadar could feel the reptile’s sharpness, her sureness of foot and lust for revenge. She was a fierce creature at times like this, as frightening as any rass. Her hooked claws twitched at her sides, eager to open the snake’s belly. Her keen tongue tasted the air, homing on the scent of shedding skin. Uninterrupted by Kadar, she slinked forward, her long, spiked tail straight out behind her.
As usual, Istikah spied the rass first. Her mind sent the message to Kadar. Together their eyes moved toward a hint of color in the distance. There, obscured by rocks and shadows, was the stout tail of the serpent. Half its long body was exposed but shadowed, while the other half was completely invisible. There was no movement from the creature, but that didn’t surprise Kadar. The shedding was a long and tedious process, and often came in fits and starts. It was common for the snakes to rest between bouts of struggling free. Kadar couldn’t help but smile. Only halfway through its shedding and trapped in this narrow gorge, the rass would be easy prey.
Gently now, he told Istikah. He raised his spear. Closer. . . .
The kreel obeyed, and the multicolored skin of the serpent became clearer. This one was black and speckled green, swirled with golden cobra markings. Drawing closer revealed its breathtaking size. For just a moment, Kadar felt the tingle of fear. He had never seen such an enormous rass. There was a brief flash of regret as he remembered his friend Ralawi, pleading with him not to hunt the creature alone.
But I am kahan, Kadar told himself. I am better than this beast.
They were well into the gorge now. Each step brought them closer to their prey. Kadar grew suddenly uneasy as he spied the monster, still unmoving. Istikah sensed his apprehension and reinforced it with her own confusion. Both agreeing, they took another cautious step, then another, and realized with shared dread that they weren’t seeing the rass at all—they had stalked its dead and shed skin. Kadar felt the spear slacken in his grip. He was about to order Istikah out of the gorge when he felt a cold shadow climbing over his shoulder. Slowly turning, he looked into a pair of lidless, primeval eyes.
The great hood of the rass blocked out the sun. Two long fangs split its red mouth, and its horrible forked tongue vibrated as it let out a dreadful hiss. Its newly exposed skin glistened in the sunlight, moist and sparkling like a rainbow. A gleam of triumph sparkled in its strange eyes. Kadar froze under its glare. He was trapped now and he knew it. He gave the rass credit for its cleverness. With no time to turn, he raised his shield.
The rass struck like a thunderbolt, driving its hooded head against him. Istikah crouched as the blow smashed into Kadar’s shield. The quick maneuver kept them from sprawling, and Kadar quickly countered, jabbing his spear at the rass just as it backed away. The serpent hovered from side to side, watching, safely distant from Kadar’s weapon. Kadar knew he couldn’t flee. To turn and run meant certain death. At this range the whip would be best, but there was no way to use it in the confines of the gorge. There was only one way out.
So Kadar raised his spear and charged, screaming a war whoop. Istikah lowered her head and ran for its belly, her sharp claws tearing at the air. Surprised, the rass reared for a second, then brought its tail around to stop them. Istikah leapt. Almost bounding over the tail, the last bit of it caught her, sending her tumbling into the sand. The concussion of the ground rattled Kadar. Still strapped to the saddle, he looked up to see the snake’s jaws snapping toward him. His shield was up in an instant, battering back the reptilian head. Istikah hurried to her feet, but the rass quickly coiled its big body around, blocking their escape. Istikah charged its exposed underside, a doglike howl tearing from her throat. Her slashing claws caught the rass, ripping a wound in its belly. Enraged, the rass attacked again, striking for Kadar. Again his shield met the attack, again he drove it back. His spear jabbed at the moving target, missing as the rass ea
sily dodged his attacks. Istikah moved like a dancer in the narrow gorge, her scales angrily speeding through colors. Kadar knew they had one chance. He needed to rope the beast to control it, to slow its great speed and give them the advantage. Quickly he tossed the shield aside, snatching the long whip from Istikah’s harness.
One more charge, he ordered his mount. Get us free!
The kreel obeyed, driving forward with a snarl. This time the wounded rass protected itself, curling away. Kadar knew it would strike in a moment. Barreling past it, he turned in the saddle and uncoiled his whip, snapping it with blinding speed. The weapon quickly ensnared the shocked rass, hooking it beneath its wide hood. Istikah continued forward, dragging the monster with them. Its head hovered over Kadar, its jaws opened wide to grasp him. He rammed the spear into its mouth, pushing it past its upper palate and through its head. The serpent’s crown exploded with blood as the spear exited. Kadar released the spear but held tight to the whip. At his command Istikah kept running, dragging the writhing beast behind her, out of the dangerous gorge. Finally in the open, the kreel turned. Seeing the badly wounded rass, she raced in for the killing blow.
There was nothing the rass could do. It was half dead anyway. Istikah’s claws slid like knives through its soft scales, tearing open its belly.
When the rass was dead, Kadar ordered Istikah back. The kreel’s snout and claws were covered with blood. He unstrapped himself from her saddle, dropping down into the hot desert sand to take full measure of the beast, certainly the largest one he’d ever slain. Remarkably, he was unscathed. He decided once again that immortality was worthless. The kind of skill he possessed now only came with age.
He pulled back his gaka and drew a dagger from his belt, then went to the dead rass and began cutting free its enormous jaws.
An hour later, Kadar was on his way home. The spires and rectangular towers of Jador rose clearly above the desert sands, but he did not hurry. It was satisfying to be alone with Istikah, satisfying to glance down at the rass jaw hanging from his saddle, still wet with blood and bits of flesh. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun was unbearable. The cloth of his dark gaka burned with its heat. The scales of Istikah’s tough hide had turned a dusty shade of green, reflecting the worst of the sunlight. The kreel’s mind was quiet as they rode. She, too, was satisfied. When they returned to the palace they would rest, Kadar decided. He would take a bath in rosewater to soothe his aching muscles, and Istikah would be well fed and rubbed. They had earned it. Kadar smiled and patted his mount’s long neck. He loved the feel of her scales, like armor. Together they crested a dune and saw Jador sprawled out before them, rising like a great oasis out of the desert. In the last decade the city had grown. The outskirts reached a mile into the sands now, and more of the Ganjeese had come to live and trade among them. It was still a pretty city, though, white and sparkling. The Jadori had much to be proud of, Kadar knew. They were strong in a way they had never been before, more capable than ever of protecting Grimhold. Kadar considered this as he spied his city, then noticed a single rider coming toward them. Curious, he ordered Istikah to halt, then watched as the rider came into view, clearly having sighted them at the top of the dune. The rider changed course toward them. Wearing a black gaka with red piping, Kadar recognized the man as one of his own. He supposed it was his friend, Ralawi, come in search of him. He waved at the approaching rider, who returned the gesture.
He will be glad to see me alive, thought Kadar. He ordered Istikah toward him. It was indeed Ralawi, because as they got closer Kadar recognized his friend’s kreel, a great, ill-tempered male with dark green streaks along its back. When they were but a few paces apart, Ralawi undid his cowl to show his face. Like all Jadori, he had beautiful dark skin and piercing eyes. He smiled at Kadar, and at the jaws hanging from his saddle.
“You are alive, I see,” he said in a mocking voice. “I had not thought you would be.”
“Ah, alive and victorious,” replied Kadar. He rode up to greet his friend, patting the jaws at his side. “See the size of it, Ralawi? I swear to Vala, it was a monster.”
“Twenty-footer, by the look of it,” said Ralawi.
“Thirty, and you know it,” jibed Kadar.
Ralawi’s smile was warm. “You look uninjured. I’m glad.”
“You were worried?”
“Of course. If you were smart, you’d have been worried too.”
Kadar looked up into the sun. It had taken a long time for Ralawi to come looking for him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Ralawi, “but I didn’t come out to rescue you.”
“No?”
“Your order was to obey you, Kadar, and that is what I did. But I have news. Ela-daz is here.”
Kadar was surprised by the statement, though gladdened. In the tongue of Jador, Ela-daz meant “little one.” He said, “Ela-daz? When?”
“She’s only just arrived. I told her you would be back soon and she said she would wait for you, that there was no hurry to speak with you. But I thought you would like to know.”
“Indeed, Ralawi, thank you,” replied Kadar. It had been months since Ela-daz had been to Jador, and he was anxious to see her. “Is she alone?”
“The big one is with her.”
“Always,” said Kadar. “Anyone else?”
“She has brought two young ones as well.”
Kadar smiled. It was good when Ela-daz brought more into her fold. Kadar liked to see Grimhold growing. It added purpose to his life.
“Come,” he told Ralawi. “I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
Forgetting his bath, Kadar directed Istikah toward the city, eager to see his old companion. Though she had been out riding for hours, Istikah was far from exhausted, and carried her master with swift ease. Ralawi and his own kreel kept pace, striding quickly across the desert sand. As they rode, Kadar told of his encounter with the rass, and how he and Istikah had slain it. Ralawi listened, shaking his head, and Kadar could feel his old friend’s disapproval.
“You wish to die,” said Ralawi as they neared the city. “That must be it.”
Kadar didn’t answer. He rode into the outskirts of the city where his palace stood, guarding the mountains in the distance. The gates of his home, which had been erected after the coming, opened as he approached, controlled by a pair of sentries. As he passed the gates and entered one of his many gardens, he asked the sentries about Ela-daz. She was in the aurocco, they replied, waiting for him.
Waiting for him. Kadar chuckled, reminded of her endless patience. He dismounted, asking Ralawi to look after Istikah, and made his way to the aurocco, unraveling his headpiece as he went. It would not do to greet his friend with a covered face. She was not of his kind, but she understood their customs well enough, and expected certain things. More importantly, Kadar respected her. They had been friends for many decades.
The aurocco was located on the side of the palace facing the mountains. It was a vast, open air chamber with dozens of arches and pillars, a place of prayer devoted to Vala. Whenever she came to the palace, Ela-daz always visited the aurocco. As Kadar entered the antechamber, he heard his footsteps echo through the stone structure, bouncing back and forth between the ancient arches and columns. There was dazzling artwork on the ceiling and floors, geometric mosaics made of multicolored tiles arranged in rosettes and star patterns. The architecture of the place invited contemplation before entering the even more imposing aurocco. Because the aurocco was so large, it took a moment for Kadar to locate Ela-daz among the pillars. But soon he heard her, her gentle voice wafting through the chamber. Silently he followed the voice, hiding behind the pillars as he approached. Then he saw her, pointing out the mosaics to the youngsters she had brought with her. They were a boy and a girl, twins from the looks of them, both with canes to bolster their badly twisted legs. The boy’s back was rounded with an ugly hump, while the girl had no such deformity. To Kadar’s eye, they looked no older than eight years old.
Ela-daz, on
the other hand, looked typically timeless. Because she wore the amulet, she was without age. Standing apart from her was Trog, her bodyguard. He was first to sight Kadar among the pillars, but did nothing to alert his mistress. Kadar gave the giant a smile of thanks, pleased that he could watch Ela-daz for a while. The sleeves of her colorful coat swirled as she pointed out the many marvelous artworks in the aurocco, her elfin face split with a wide grin. Ela-daz always took great pride in showing off the aurocco. And she always told her young charges the same thing—this was only the first of many wondrous sights.
Ela-daz, or Minikin as she was called across the desert, lifted her face to smile at Kadar. He stepped out from the shadows to greet her.
“Discovered,” he laughed, speaking in her language. “How long did you know?”
“I heard you approaching a few moments ago,” replied the little woman. She put her small arms around the children and ushered them forward. “Kahan Kadar, this is Gendel and Keir, from Kana.”
“Brother and sister?” asked Kadar.
Ela-daz nodded. “Their parents are dead. They had no one to care for them. They were in the streets when I found them.”
“Starving from the look of them,” said Kadar. The boy was horribly emaciated, and the girl’s clothes, though clean, hung from her like cloth on a pole. He gave the children the warmest smile he could muster. “Ah, but you will be well now, certainly. Ela-daz will take good care of you.”
The girl frowned in puzzlement. “Ela-daz?”
“A term of endearment, child,” replied the little woman. “It is what they call me here.”
“What does it mean?” asked the boy.
