by Susi Wright
Simban wasted no time, reporting immediately to the authorities to tell of the mayhem being caused by the flame adder in the Northern Mountains and the need for urgent action. The military commander had promised to send a contingent of soldiers with some heavy weapons, though he doubted they would be equal to the task, if the beast was too large. The platoon would be deployed that day, ordered to make all haste, at least to rescue survivors and bring them back to the city or to set up a medical outpost.
All Simban could do for time being was to return to Runo’s, rest, and wait for Chadren’s caravan to arrive, which, fully laden, with some necessary stops to do trade, could be in a fortnight’s time. Knowing how hazardous these journeys had become, he offered up a silent prayer for their safe passage, uneasy and considering the idea of riding out to meet them in a few days, once he and the samblar were rested.
It came as a complete shock, however, when on the eve of leaving to do just that, he was walking near the city gates when a farmer’s open cart passed by, its driver calling for medical help, and on glancing back, he saw a body lying still, covered by a blanket in the back. On closer inspection, as he approached to offer help, he was aghast to recognise Chadren, obviously in a serious condition.
‘What has happened? This is my employer!’ he asked of the farmer, who looked as though he had not slept for days, trying to bring his patient for urgent help. The wheezing old samblar hitched to the front of the cart looked about to expire. The old man related what little he knew from Luminor’s account of the raid, and Simban thanked him for his kindness, arranging for Chadren to be taken immediately to a comfortable bed at Runo’s house and a doctor summoned to treat his wound.
Runo and Simban waited anxiously outside the room as the doctor worked, cleaning, stitching and re-dressing the deep wound that had gone clean through Chadren’s thigh, both coming to their feet expectantly when he emerged an hour later. ‘Well, good sirs, he is stable. I am confident he will survive… lucky his rescuer, whoever he was… had a good knowledge of herbal healing. Without that poultice to stop the bleeding and keep out infection, I doubt our patient would be with us now! That young man saved his life! All he needs now is rest and time to heal fully.’ The doctor smiled, always happy to convey good news rather than bad.
Over the days that followed, Chadren regained full consciousness, and was able to recount the horror of losing Fralii to the kidnappers, and the sad fact of Zaf’s murder, frantically urging Simban to begin searching for Fralii, even though they were all at a loss as to where to start.
Chapter Eighteen
The main road to the Capital had become increasingly busy with travellers and wagons, as more trade routes joined it, so Luminor had taken to flying undercover through the woodland canopy on either side in daylight hours and faster in the open for some of the night. A few furlongs from his destination, he felt a bewildering uncertainty, as if something had changed.
As he landed lightly amongst the trees to organise his thoughts, his hand went automatically to the hessian bag at his waist. Taking out first the handkerchief and concentrating, he confirmed that the young woman, Fralii, was somewhere in the city ahead, but separately laying his hands on the boots told a different story. One or more of the kidnappers had parted company with their captive, and were headed back along this road, with a new destination. He guessed they could be on their way to get rid of the remainder of the gems in Splendo. He expected them to pass by very shortly. Putting his tokens back in the bag on his waist, he continued toward the Capital to intercept the raiders. Soon, through the trees coming slowly down the road, he recognised two of the gang with one of the wagons, still surprisingly quite heavy with gems, leading behind the grey samblar, on the back of which they had earlier tied Fralii.
Aware that it would help his disguise as a human traveller to enter the city riding a samblar, he planned to swoop down silently, after they had passed, onto the back of the animal, riding away into the woodland at a gallop. By the time the raiders heard any noise of movement, he and his mount would be well in the cover of the trees. The wagon their only transport, the thieves would be unable to follow, and no doubt unwilling to leave their valuable cargo.
The obliging samblar accepted Luminor’s sudden weight and, though not the fleetest of foot, made a decent pace to the treeline, away from the cursing men in the wagon, who fired off a short ineffectual flurry of crossbow fire aimed at the pair disappearing amongst the tree trunks.
Moving cross-country, Luminor kept his mount at a brisk pace until they reached the grand iron portals of the Capital, which were customarily not closed until well after dark, where he finally slowed to a walk. Cloak and hood drawn closely around him against the evening chill, and shielding his eyes from the curious gaze of the onlooker, his heart fluttered with anticipation at being right in the midst of human life and activity, something he had never until now experienced, but that had for so long fascinated him.
As he rode deeper into the city, surreptitiously watching the various city folk going about their everyday affairs here in this large and bustling city, doing the last trade of the day, shopping, going to their homes, the very same activities as when he and Altor had spied on village folk. Apart from the eyes, and the fact they had no Powers, which was probably a great hindrance to them, he remarked to himself how similar they seemed to his own kind. Perhaps he was idealistic, which he thought only gave him better vision, but he could see no reason for their separation.
As he daydreamed, he noticed the strengthening pull of the connection to the captive girl, confident he was heading in the right direction. When he discovered the kidnappers’ hiding place, and determined to rescue her, he would certainly not hold back, in fact would take great pleasure in using any or all of the Powers he had at his disposal, against them!
Darkness had since fallen for some time when Luminor became confident he was close enough. He halted the samblar in a small dark alley, tying the reins to a rail, and continued some distance on foot. As he walked, he prayed the animal would still be there when he returned with the girl, all the while puzzling why the pull was so strong. He had been taught that physical contact with another being could intensify the connection far more than mere tokens, but he was certain he had ever touched a human being, let alone this girl.
Ahead of him, at the end of a quiet, very dark street, he could hear a cacophony of human voices coming from a large grey building, the only activity in this seedy, derelict part of the city. There were many humans within. It was not difficult to guess that this could be the slave market. Interestingly there were also animals. He studied the scene from the shadow of an alcove, allowing his intuition to form the beginning of a plan.
There was a beefy man leaning indolently against the wall at the entrance, presumably the guard. Luminor pressed further into the closed shop-doorway, as someone emerged from another side alley up ahead and approached the establishment. A brief exchange of words and coin gained the newcomer entry and he disappeared quickly inside.
Luminor, having no coin at all, and preferring to enter anonymously anyway, avoiding contact with the doorman, wanted to scan the building for an open window or alternative way in. Turning into the next deserted alley, he lifted his cloak and took flight silently over the rooftops to the top of the grey warehouse. Disappointed by the absence of skylights there that would suit his purpose, he stealthily came to the ground behind the building. Two sizeable empty cages on carts were hidden in the shadows, one butted against a closed door, obviously where the animals, which he had earlier sensed were here, had been unloaded. He guessed zabuks. The scent was distinctive. Moving along, he hoped there was yet another way in on this side. The first small window he came upon afforded him a hazy view down into an expansive back-room and cellar, which had been set up as an extremely illegal and cruel zabuk fighting-ring, the roars of the ill-treated, starved animals, as they tore at each other to the death, adding to the din of men placing bets. There was much money to be made from
such sport, not common, thank the Ancestors, because zabuk-leopards were extremely difficult to catch and handle. They had to be trapped in a net, caged, starved, and driven into the cellar with long spiked poles jabbed through the bars of the cage. Once forced together in the fighting pit, they would set upon each other ferociously. Frequently, neither animal would survive; bets were on which would kill the other first. The victorious beast would invariably die of its terrible wounds within hours or days. It was horrifically cruel. Zabuks in the wild would avoid each other except at mating time. Two males like this were even worse. The gamblers loved it!
From the makeshift air vent above him, the pungent musk of the stressed zabuks mixed with the unpleasant odours of cheroot smoke and sweaty human bodies assailed his nostrils. The high-walled pit floor was already slick with the animals’ blood, one had the other in a death grip, just about to tear its throat out. Deep anger and disgust rose like bile in Luminor, at the gore and futility of the scene. He was unable to resolve this without compromising the girl’s rescue, so he promised the realm of Nature that he would put a stop to this practice as soon as he could. Offering up a prayer for the poor creatures (one was already too far gone anyway), he took a deep breath of resolve and fresh air and moved along to the next window.
Peering through the dirty glass into another smoky den, he saw dozens of men shouting bids, gathered around a platform on which stood a forlorn woman, hands tied, being paraded by her captor. The sale concluded very quickly, money changed hands, and the poor woman was bundled into the waiting grasp of her new owner. Another very young girl followed the first one’s fate, Luminor regretting he could not save all these unfortunate beings on this occasion; most of them without doubt would have been abused in some way, or raped. Time was short, he was alone, and his instinct urged him to focus on his goal. She was here somewhere, he knew. They were bound to bring her out soon for sale, and had he coin in abundance, he would simply walk in there, buy her freedom, and leave, no questions asked. But he had no coin.
Shaking himself from his musings, he devised a realistic method of rescue. It would be foolhardy to make a dramatic scene, using his powers in full view of this large audience, so he would wait until someone bought her and left the building. He would follow to a quiet street, disable the purchaser, using whatever force necessary, and carry her back to the waiting samblar, hoping he could calm her sufficiently to understand he was rescuing her. Given the opportunity, he could carry her, in flight, for a short distance, but they would need the samblar, riding double for the longer journey to Splendo.
He continued peering through the window, awaiting the object of his search, impatiently watching the sale of two more girls before he recognised the leader of the gang, approaching the dais with a dark-haired young woman, her face downturned in shame and obscured by long black ringlets. The hulk of a man shoved her up on to the stage in front of him, grinning conceitedly, as he proceeded to show off his captive, turning her roughly, this way, then that. He pulled her hair from her face, grabbing her chin to reef her head up. ‘Come on, lads, look what a beauty I have here!’ he goaded the lascivious crowd. Ribald comments and enthusiastic bidding followed immediately, pushing the price very high.
Luminor’s heart skipped a beat as in that moment, he caught for the first time the bright violet eyes as they cast about the room fearfully, and he recognised without a doubt the girl he had encountered in the forest that night the previous summer. He had often thought of her since then, wondering about her life, which now had apparently taken a very unlucky turn. She was indeed beautiful, even more so than he remembered. So this was Fralii. Realisation dawned, the link was explained: he had made physical contact when he knocked her to the ground.
‘Hey, you!’ boomed a voice from the corner of the building. ‘What are you up to? Ogling the pretty girls, eh?’ The doorman had come into the alley to relieve himself, and had noticed Luminor loitering at the window. Pulling his hood over his eyes and assuming a casual air, Luminor replied, ‘Nothing. I wait for friend. I only look… if he finish. I am cold!’
‘Well, why don’t you just wait out front, where I can see you, mister? Who’s to say you’re not trying to get in without paying?’ he said, suspicious. Luminor co-operated, not wishing a scene to ruin his purpose. He needed to be in full view of the exit anyway when the buyer came out with Fralii. He leant nonchalantly on the wall at the front of the building with his head down, far enough away from the doorman to avoid having to make conversation, while he waited for his opportunity.
This happened soon enough, when a man emerged, dragging his new acquisition behind him. Not wanting to have to explain too much, and needing to leave now to follow these two, Luminor announced simply to the doorman, sounding frustrated, ‘Done waiting! I go!’ and he stalked off in a slightly different direction, doubling back quickly through the alleys towards his quarry, as soon as he was out of sight of the doorman. Anywhere in these dark streets, he could snatch Fralii. One human would be easy to deal with before he reached a busy street or some form of transportation. There seemed to be no waiting carriages nearby. Luminor decided not to swoop from the air to snatch Fralii—the fastest way, but would risk frightening her. He would gain physical contact with the man by bumping into him, apparently accidentally, coming upon them from a side alley. Using his mental power, he would confuse and disorientate his opponent long enough to pick Fralii up, explain his intention, and carry her on foot to the waiting samblar a few streets away. Although Gaians were expert in combat techniques, it was rarely necessary to wound or kill animals except for food, or humans only in extreme circumstances. A well-trained warrior, practised in all the mental powers, would use one or another of those to achieve his purpose before, or in conjunction with, hand-to-hand fighting.
Luminor waited at the corner, watching the short fat man pulling his prize along by the rope which bound her hands. In the dejected way she moved, he could tell she was exhausted, though she gave an occasional rebellious tug, causing her captor to curse loudly. Knowing she had spent several days tied on the back of a samblar, half-starved and drugged, and might still have lubio in her blood angered him. He hoped, above all, that the kidnappers had left her unsullied in order to get a high price. The level of the bidding had suggested she was still a maiden.
As they reached the corner, Luminor jumped out, as if rushing somewhere, knocking into the man’s shoulder and sending him sprawling on the cobblestones, hitting his head on the pavement. After the contact, Luminor focussed on confusing the man, already half-conscious, disorientating him sufficiently to be unable to get to his feet for at least an hour.
Turning then to Fralii, Luminor could see the residual effects of the drug in the slowness of her reactions and the dazed look in her eyes. He gently picked up the rope and cut her bonds as she stared at him, the hollowness of her cheeks and the dark circles underneath her eyes enhancing their wide violet gaze.
‘Do not fear… I help you,’ he offered in his best human dialect, smiling kindly. Silent, she seemed to be studying his features also. He hoped his strange eyes would not alarm her. Before anything untoward happened, he urged her to action. ‘We go! I carry you! You are safe now!’ Without waiting for a reply, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her towards where he had left the samblar. She slumped tiredly against him. He could feel her emotion strongly, part relieved, part past-caring, and for that, he felt a little happy and a little sad.
He found the trusty animal just where he left it tied, grateful it had not been stolen. While he was lifting Fralii onto its back, she stirred slightly, but as Luminor leapt lightly up behind her in the saddle, fatigue seemed to take over again and she promptly fell asleep within the circle of his arms. Urging his mount forward at a trot, Luminor rode with his passenger towards the city gates, their passage along the deserted streets unnoticed at this dark hour of the night.
As they approached the closed portal of the city, the gatekeeper called out harshly, ‘Who goes there? St
ate your purpose!’ He did not want to be responsible for allowing a fugitive from the law to escape. Besides, it was his job to report all comings and goings when his shift was ended.
Luminor replied in a loud whisper, ‘We are lovers! Have a heart! It is urgent!’
Happy to be involved in such a harmless conspiracy, which lightened an otherwise mundane night on the Gate, he made a cheeky comment about having a rollicking good night, and opened one side of the gates for them to pass.
Once on the open road, they settled to a steady ground-covering pace which, in a few hours, would carry them out of reach of the vengeful purchaser, should he come looking for Fralii once he recovered his senses. He would very likely be determined to recover his property, as he had just parted with a tidy sum of money. A few furlongs out of the city, just to make certain he could not find them, they would leave the main road to go across country as Luminor knew these lands well, having spent his youth flying them with his brother. He had never made the journey on samblar-back, so he was not certain how long it would take to reach Splendo this time, but he guessed a few days, all going well.
Towards dawn and willing though it was, the samblar was obviously tiring, as they had been on the move for many hours. Fralii, still sleeping off the effects of the lubio and her ordeal, had presented no challenge to Luminor, except keeping her upright in the saddle, as she frequently sagged against him, deep in slumber. At times he had to hold her quite tightly against his chest to prevent her falling, giving rise to a protective urge unlike anything he had previously felt, along with the inescapable stirrings of desire. The connection was almost overpowering in this proximity, and he found himself enjoying the feeling immensely, but at same time fearing it in equal measure. He reflected on the paradox of emotion, wondering where it would lead.
