The deep call of a horn interrupted them. It seemed to go on and on, spreading over the bay and filling every inlet with its sound.
‘What’s that?’ Maud said, her hand going to her sword in reflex. ‘Have they sighted the ship?’
‘That sound would be different,’ Yarwan said, surprised. ‘This is the Gathering. It summons all of Maiwar to the hall.’
‘Ha, the headwoman becomes impatient.’ Maud walked away. ‘Come on.’
‘You too,’ Jurgis said. He gripped Kaltir’s upper arm as the fisher backed away. ‘You will help.’
CHAPTER 15 - EXPEDITION
The headwoman sat watching the villagers assemble. A small skylight over her head was open, and the lightfall set her in a silvery glow. The otherworldly creatures on her robe appeared to move, while she herself remained motionless. One after another, the people entered. Fishers, net menders, local craftsmen; elders and the swift young boaties with their smiles. All answered the horn’s call, and all came to greet the old woman before joining the others. A close-knit community, Maud thought. No wonder our crew has that oneness even Felrich couldn’t break.
‘The meeting will begin,’ Yarwan whispered. ‘Hush now.’
Ayancham rose and spread her hands. All the assembly bowed, even her grandson.
The old woman’s eyes turned inside as she sang words Maud didn’t understand. The melody wove a net around those present, evoking feelings of unity and strength, determination and love; of death, rebirth and the tribe everliving. It was a powerful song, a cleansing song. Faces lined with anxiety cleared and hunched shoulders straightened as men and women looked up. Then, Ayancham spoke, her dialect steeped in ritual and hard for an outlander to follow. Maud caught the names of Yarwan and the Daisee, and several times she heard the word djavistra fall, and Jamril Bay. Whatever it was she spoke of, the villagers drank her words and gathered strength from them. When the headwoman sat down, her voice fell silent without breaking the web it had cast over the assembly. The people stood, with heads bowed and eyes closed, as if lost in thought. Then, a grizzled fisher cried out. He took the long gutting knife from his belt and raised it in the air. As if it was a sign, others followed, men and women, waving fishing spears or their bare fists, singing flashes of the headwoman’s song. More joined them, and even more, until they filled the large room with their voices.
Ayancham’s old eyes turned to Maud and her voice was calm. ‘The people have found Kallianura in their hearts and stand ready, djavistra. You must choose who is to go.’
The lioness felt surprise at the Jentakans’ religious readiness to fight a yet unseen foe. ‘How many boats can you muster?’
‘We can give you ten war canoes,’ Acham called over the crowd’s song. ‘Sixteen fighters each.’
‘Ten hands from the Daisee to man the fort’s guns, and one hundred and fifty of your people.’ Maud nodded. ‘That should do it.’ She flowed with the ceremonial and, not knowing the Jentakans’ traditions, added her own. Her sword flashed up and a dead silence fell as she began one of the slow, soul-stirring Rites of War she had never before used in earnest. In the dimness of the hall, her deep voice sounded like the chanting of mighty armies, and the Jentakans swayed with it like reeds in the wind. Then, stern-faced as the Brannoe Queen inspecting, Maud walked past the waiting rows of villagers. Even breathing hushed, while she mustered each one, looking for the most fit, for the boldest and biggest of the villagers. To her secret surprise, the ones she passed over were crestfallen, and many eyes were wet. One boy, not nearly man enough yet, looked at her with large eyes, holding his knife like a candle between his hands. Maud’s glance caught his, and she shook her head. ‘Not this time, brave one. Though your courage is great, your body hasn’t grown enough yet.’ She felt the boy’s eyes following her as she walked on.
When she had her fighters, she went to stand beside Ayancham and faced the still, soundless crowd. ‘People of Maiwar, I have chosen. Don’t be cast down if you are not one of them, for Kallianura needs you here. Maiwar’s defense is in your hands and you will serve with honor and pride. You chosen ones, ready yourselves and sharpen your weapons. We will leave at sunrise tomorrow.’ As she turned, she saw the boy she’d passed over testing the edge of his blade, his face absorbed.
Then she walked back, to the serious eyes of Jurgis and his hand gripping hers.
Early next morning, with the stars still awake and the gray mist low over the waters, the expedition from Maiwar assembled. The fighters wore assorted armor, fabricated from local skins, adorned with feathers and curious little trinkets. They came armed with swords, fishing spears and whatever weaponry they possessed or could borrow.
Acham had made good on his promise, and ten canoes awaited them. Some forty-five feet long, they made a sizable fleet, and it took time to get all in proper formation. Finally, with every canoe numbered, packed and manned with a crew of fifteen warriors and a sailor from the Daisee, they were ready to depart.
Maud and Jurgis sat in number one, the leading canoe, with Kaltir. While they waited for the headwoman to finish blessing the warriors, Maud studied their guide. The young fisher seemed brittle, as if the slightest tap would shatter him. Her lioness training had included some nasty sessions about unexpected violence and its effect on inexperienced soldiers. It must’ve been shattering to a weak male like Kaltir, seeing his brother blown to bits before his eyes. She glanced at Jurgis and saw he’d been watching Kaltir, too. Their eyes met and Jurgis frowned.
‘It’s in Mother Ratla’s hand.’
That may be. Maud’s thoughts were grim. But should that hysterical male try to scream at the wrong moment, I’ll put an end to him.
The headwoman spoke a brief blessing. When she stepped back, the watching defenders of Maiwar clapped their hands in a single rhythm.
Maud sat up straight. ‘We go!’
Behind her, the rowers dipped their paddles into the water and they slipped away from the village. Soon, the clapping had died away in the distance and they went in silence.
On both sides, the jungle was a wall of fallen trunks, leaves and branches; alive, silent, impassable. The stream was a muddy brown, and every paddle stroke brought the putrid smell of rot.
Around noon they came to a large patch of water lilies. Purple and pink blooms, sunbathing on oval beds of dark green, filled the river from border to border.
Maud followed the creek with her eyes and sighed. ‘Did you have your swim today, love?’
Jurgis looked from her to the massing lilies. ‘You mean those? Can they hinder us? They don’t look very strong.’
‘Not the lilies. They’re bothersome, but the rowers will get us through.’ She pointed in the distance. ‘I mean them.’
Jurgis stared in the distance. ‘That green stuff? What is it, grass?’
A twitch pulled at the corner of Kaltir’s mouth. ‘Not grass. Those are reeds, outlander. Tall as trees and tough as the Roots of the Earth.’
‘I so like your positive outlook,’ Jurgis said.
Kaltir shrugged. ‘What does it matter? We’re all going to die anyway.’
It took the crew longer than expected to work the first canoe through the sea of water lilies. Their roots were long and under their pink beauty, the lilies proved tough opponents. Finally they reached the next patch of open water and now the reeds were visible as a green wall across the river.
‘They look like those lock gates of late.’ Jurgis glanced at Maud. ‘Where is the nice lady to open them for us?’
Maud laughed. ‘Take your things off. This is the point you’re going to earn your pay, boy.’ She gave the example and soon she stood in nothing but her loincloth.
‘Djavistra,’ someone in the back of the canoe said in an awed whisper at the sight of her rippling muscles.
‘Don’t prattle,’ Maud said. ‘Follow me into the water, friends, and hack us a way through those reeds.’
The water was piss-warm and its mud clung to their bodies. Brown patches on Jurgi
s’ whiteness, and gray on Maud’s black skin. After a while, they didn’t notice the smell anymore, as they wrestled with the reeds that cut their feet, their legs, their thighs; that made them stumble, and sapped their energy. Maud clenched her jaw as she hewed away at the wrist-thick stems. This local version was tougher than the ones she’d trained upon in Kell, and at least thrice as tall. The water reached up to Jurgis’ chest, as it did to most of the Jentakans, and this made ax work both difficult and dangerous. And when they had finished cutting out a passage, they had to go back for their canoe and carry its dead weight on their heads to the next bit of open water.
Maud took care to change the lead crews regularly, while only she and Jurgis stayed in front. She, because everyone drew courage from the djavistra, and Jurgis, well, she’d suggested it.
‘No!’ he’d shouted, red-faced. ‘By the gods, never! As long as you are here, so am I and don’t you dare send me away. We’re equals, remember!’
She knew this was important to him and let him be. And he kept working. However he did it, Maud knew not, but where she was, so went he and the sound of his ax never flagged. So it went on. Every boat-length they advanced was a victory; every reed bed they left behind them, a conquest.
Jurgis slapped at a double handful of gnats on his skin. ‘Damnation,’ he said, bone weary.
‘Be glad there aren’t any sting flies,’ Maud said. ‘No risk of bog fever.’
The boy’s red-rimmed eyes looked at her. ‘I am glad. I’m singing and dancing with joy.’
Maud gave him a quick, muddy kiss. ‘I know, love.’
The first night the crews slept in their canoes. Maud was still wide awake. She hadn’t exhausted her excess energy yet, and she remained active and alert far longer than the others. She sat still, listening to the sounds of the jungle: the chirping, the croaking, the splashes of water, and the occasional cry of a hunting bird in the distance.
The sight of Jurgis, sleeping with his head in her lap, calmed her. She still wanted him, but now she was using all her energy, she could think of him without that explosion of desire inside. She looked down at his pale face. Her superiors wouldn’t be pleased with their relationship. It was unusual for any Kell to have a lover outside of the clans, but for a cadet, it would be the height of brazenness. Juniors were supposed to make do with the tame Kell males. Those dull, harmless Kell males.
She grinned in the darkness. The warmth of Jurgis’ body made her feel protective. She’d never tell him that; it would infuriate him. She liked Jurgis for his independence, how he wanted to compete with her and this silly belief of his that males were as good as females. He was funny. And clever. She liked that, too. For now, that was enough. For later ... When she was a full lioness and the wisewomen had removed the birth prevention amulet from under her skin? What then? What future was there for a half-Kell baby? Had there ever been such a child? How would she look? Striped? No, silly, she’d look like a ... a Garthan. The thought shocked her, and she felt lost.
A nearby splash broke off her train of thought. It had become quiet; too quiet. She peered into the darkness and then she saw, a bit to the left of her, two golden eyes staring back at her. Pewbara? Without breaking eye contact, her hand went to the sword on her back. Just as slowly she drew the blade from its scabbard.
‘Whah?’ Her movements had woken Jurgis.
‘Predator,’ she said, without looking away from the staring eyes. ‘Get down and don’t move, love.’ As Jurgis rolled aside, she rose to her full height. Clouds shifted, and the moon appeared. Now Maud saw the cat in her natural majesty. Dark brown she was, with lighter spots all over, her side-whiskers and the tufts of her ears startling white. She was smaller than a lion, but large enough to be a formidable opponent. The cat crouched there, less than fifteen feet away from the canoe and low to the ground, her tail swinging. For a moment, all seemed frozen.
Then Maud swung her sword in front of her. ‘You won’t do it,’ she said in a firm voice. ‘You know you won’t. You’re too beautiful to kill, but I will if you won’t behave yourself.’ Again, she waved the big sword in the cat’s direction and the animal hesitated.
‘Go.’ Maud’s deep voice sounded utterly confident. ‘Go hunt elsewhere. There’s no prey here, pewbara; only grief.’ She stared at the cat, and growled deep in her throat. Without a sound, the animal turned and disappeared among the trees. Maud smiled. ‘Watch out! Pewbara,’ she called to the next boat’s nightwatch, and she heard the shout repeated.
‘Phew,’ Jurgis said with forced gaiety. ‘You were too terrible for it.’
‘I’m glad.’ Maud sheathed her sword and sat down. ‘I would have hated to kill her.’
‘Why? That beast was dangerous.’
‘She reminded me of Old Kell. Our people used lions as hunting cats; lions as black as ourselves. I would like one.’ She sighed. ‘But this girl wasn’t big enough.’ She plucked Jurgis off the bottom and dumped his head back onto her lap. ‘Sleep, dear,’ she said absently, stroking his hair.
Nothing more happened, while she sat still, lost in ancestral memories of war cats and hunting, till Jurgis woke again at daybreak.
The sun’s position told it was late afternoon when Kaltir reappeared from his scouting. He was tired, his face and body mud-caked, but there was triumph in his bloodshot eyes.
‘You can be satisfied, I led you true. After this reed bed is a lake that drains into the bay. We should leave the canoes on the other side and go the last few miles on foot.’
Maud gripped the guide’s arm and felt the tenseness of his muscles. ‘That’s great news! You deserve our thanks for a job well done.’ With a surge of exuberance, she pushed the canoe through a large clump of reeds. A spluttering on the other side of the boat betrayed Jurgis had lost his footing again.
‘You still there?’ she called.
‘Warn when you shove like that, you crazy bitch!’ he shouted. ‘I nearly broke my teeth on the gunwale.’
‘Sorry!’ Maud tried not to laugh. ‘Here comes another one.’ With a last, mighty heave, the canoe burst through the reeds. Before them lay a still, blue lake. One after another, the crewmembers scrambled aboard. Then, keeping as close as possible to the lake’s overgrown shore, they paddled to the other side.
‘See that rotting jetty?’ Kaltir’s voice sounded strangled. ‘That’s where the path begins.’
Maud glanced at him and frowned at the glitter in his eyes.
The small army followed Kaltir through the two miles of jungle that separated them from the fort, clearing away the growth that was retaking the old road. It was backbreaking work, and they progressed very slowly, so that it was a little past midnight when their guide halted at the foot of a massive cliff overgrown with flowering vine.
‘We’re at the landside of the fort,’ Kaltir said, his chest heaving. ‘There is a door, somewhere behind those creepers. I’ve been here once, with Wantir. We were exploring.’ His face worked, as if he was fighting against his tears. ‘We had so many adventures, before he ... Damn.’
Maud stared at him. ‘Just say it aloud. Don’t keep it all bottled up inside. Before he what?’
‘Went chasing the boys,’ Kaltir said in a hard voice. ‘Damn that Yarwan.’
‘You know it isn’t Yarwan’s fault,’ Maud said. ‘These things happen.’
Kaltir didn’t listen. He put his fists against his eyes. ‘It shamed me, how the other boys laughed behind his back. I’ve fought many fights over it.’ The twitch in his face had worsened. ‘I would see Yarwan die!’
A hollow thud made him whirl about. ‘Careful!’ he snarled. ‘Don’t wake up the guards.’
Eager hands cleared away the vines and let the light of the moon play over a wooden door.
‘Great work!’ the lioness said. She tried the handle and to her surprise, the door opened noiselessly. ‘Pass me a torch, please.’
Soon, a yellow light showed a stone hallway large enough to admit them all.
‘We don’t know much abo
ut the fort,’ Maud said, looking at the faces of her troops. ‘We must take things as they come. Once again: To protect Maiwar and your families, we have to take both the fort and the ship. The fort is easy, it’s here. We hope the ship is here, too. If she’s not, we’ll wait for her. Remember, we don’t need prisoners, but I damned well want the cannons intact! Now let’s go!’
‘Djavistra!’ a low voice said from the semi-darkness. ‘Djavistra is Kallianura’s Hand. The Goddess is with us!’
The others took up the whisper and Maud let them go on for a minute. Then she raised her fist.
‘Quiet now. Let us proceed in stealth.’ She lifted her torch and entered the corridor into the fort.
Jurgis hurried to keep up with her. ‘Djavistra,’ he said in an undertone. ‘Next they’ll start offering to you.’
‘Don’t laugh at their beliefs,’ Maud said.
The boy looked at her, his face taut. ‘I wasn’t laughing. The gods know I’ve offered to all of them. Oh damn!’ His foot hit a round, whitish object that skittered away over the flagstone floor. ‘What’s that?’
‘A skull,’ Maud said. ‘There are more of them.’ Pale bones crunched underfoot like dry wood. ‘They’re very old.’
‘Rusty weapons, too. Seems they lost a battle here.’
‘Hush! Don’t speak of such things.’
‘You’re not superstitious?’ Jurgis said, surprised. ‘Ouch!’
Maud pulled her elbow back. ‘Idiot. I’m concerned about morale.’
Jurgis rubbed his side. ‘Not mine, apparently.’
‘No. Quiet now, there’s a staircase.’
‘Wait here; I’ll scout ahead,’ Jurgis said. ‘Creeping through other people’s houses is my job, after all.’
Maud heard the brittle undertone in his voice, but before she could say anything, the young thief was gone.
It took some while before his slight shadow returned, as stealthily as he had left.
‘I counted twenty steps. They end at a landing with three doors. Left and right were closed, locks rusted shut. The middle one opens up into another corridor, with lights at the end. First a row of prison cells. Empty—of life, that is; there are plenty of bones. The lights I saw are from two torches at the end of the corridor. To the left a guardroom, but there wasn’t anybody there. To the right a mess hall; I saw only a handful of men inside. The door in the middle was closed; perhaps it opens to the outside. That’s the good news.’
Lioness of Kell Page 14
