Circle's End

by Lisanne Norman

  It was pronouncement, not a question.

  “Uh,” said Jerenn, one arm going round Gaylla, the other reaching out to steady himself.

  N’Akoe emerged from the kitchen tent with the pitcher of cold water for them. “I see that all the sleepyheads are finally awake. Bring me your drinking bowls, kitlings, and have a drink before you start work again.”

  The cubs scrambled up, jostling their way over to N’Akoe. Their drinking bowls filled, they sat back down on their bedrolls.

  “This morning, we planted grasses by the side of the river. This afternoon we’re going to do something a little different. Some of you will be digging irrigation ditches, while the others will be planting a mixture of grasses and wildflowers. All these plants will fix the soil in place, and not only that, but the wildflowers will look beautiful among the grasses. After two hours, you’ll switch places. That way everyone gets a turn digging ditches,” said Jerenn.

  “Dinner tonight will be a lovely stew the villagers are preparing for all of us,” said M’Nar. “It’s got a sauce made with real cream!” He licked his lips in anticipation.

  “How long till dinnertime?” asked Dhyshac.

  Jerenn consulted his watch. “About five hours,” he said, “but trust me, it’ll go faster than you can imagine. Now, if you’ve finished your water, go wash your bowls and put them to dry in the kitchen, then fill up your drinking bottles from the dispenser there, and finally put your bed rolls away.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Gaylla looked up from where she was using a hoe to dig part of a new irrigation trench. “N’Akoe, you come helps Brother Jerenn and me.”

  “I can’t, cub,” she replied, putting a friendly arm round the young female’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry, but Dhyshac needs my help right now. Maybe later.”

  Gaylla huffed gently. “I s’pose so,” she said, disappointed.

  “She’ll help you when she can,” said Shaidan. “Remember, she has to look after us all.”

  “But she likes us best,” she said, indicating herself, her brother, and Jerenn.

  Jerenn coughed, avoiding N’Akoe’s embarrassed look.

  Gaylla turned her brightest smile on the Sister. “You wants to help us, don’t you, Sister N’Akoe?”

  For a moment, it looked to Shaidan as if the Sister’s eyes glazed over as she hesitated before replying.

  Shaidan dug Gaylla in the ribs. You mustn’t try to make her help us. You know it’s very wrong, he sent to his sister.

  I’s only helping them. They likes each other but won’t say so, she sent back.

  As he watched, N’Akoe’s eyes unglazed and she seemed to mentally shake herself.

  Shaidan reached out to smooth the transition so the Sister wouldn’t know what Gaylla had done.

  “I’ll see if I can help you in a little while,” N’Akoe said. “I have to help Zsayal and Dhyshac first.”

  “Okays,” said Gaylla, her spirits already set to rights.

  Shaidan looked at his sister’s mud-streaked hands and feet, then ruefully looked at himself. “We’ll need another swim in the inlet before dinner,” he said to Jerenn.

  The Brother glanced over to where M’Nar and his two cubs were working. “I think we’ll all need a good wash,” he agreed. “We’re cleaner than Brother M’Nar and Vazih and Shaylor, though!”

  Shaidan laughed as he straightened up to stretch his tired muscles. Looking round, he could see that they had covered a pretty large patch of land with the grasses and wildflowers. “It looks really good now, compared to the dry ground that was here before,” he said.

  Jerenn glanced up and quickly surveyed the area. “It does. It’s nice to think we’re making a positive effect on the landscape.”

  “Yes,” agreed Shaidan, breathing in deeply to catch the rich scent of the damp soil, the grasses, and the pollen from the plants.

  “Nothing like the smell that comes from sun-warmed soil. It feels like Ghyakulla herself is breathing,” said Jerenn, flaring his nostrils.

  Shaidan’s mouth opened in a surprised and delighted smile. “Our earth Goddess? Yes! That’s exactly what it’s like!”

  “You don’t get that effect so often here unless you are by the grain fields or by the river because K’oish’ik is so dry.”

  “What’s that?” Shaidan exclaimed, pointing into the near distance at a cloud of dust.

  Jerenn looked. “I think it’s the village herd beasts from Ch’almuth,” he said, shading his eyes with his hand. “Looks like they’re headed our way. We can’t have that; they’ll destroy all the young seedlings we just planted. The herd needs to be turned. M’Nar!” he called out. When his sword-brother looked up, he pointed to the dust cloud which was definitely moving closer.

  Standing up, M’Nar ran over. “Herd beasts, heading our way.”

  “Agreed. N’Akoe,” Jerenn called, gesturing her over. “Take all the cubs to the transporter where they’ll be safe. Herd beasts are headed this way and we need to turn them. Send word to the village too—we could do with all the help we can get.”

  “I’ll go,” said Shaidan, hopping from one foot to the other. “I’m the fastest runner.”

  “All right, you run ahead, Shaidan. Go by way of the base camp to warn anyone still there to load all the valuables into the transporter.”

  “Gaylla, do what the Brothers and Sisters tell you to do,” said Shaidan.

  Gaylla, sensing the air of concern and danger, nodded her head seriously. “I go with Sister N’Akoe,” she said. “We safe in transporter.”

  “Go now, Shaidan,” said M’Nar.

  Shaidan nodded, then sprinted off for the base camp.

  The ground he was running through was a kind of chaparral of clumps of scrub bushes interspersed with odd patches of the coarse wild grass endemic to K’oishi’k. It was well-suited to the herd beasts from Ch’almuth, which themselves had once roamed this planet.

  A stray bush, tougher than the rest, snagged Shaidan’s foot, sending him tumbling head over heels. With an “Oof!” of discomfort, he picked himself up and kept running.

  Finally, he reached the base camp. A couple of the Prime soldiers were doing cleanup duty.

  “Herd beasts coming this way,” he panted, sliding to a stop in the dry soil. “Brother Jerenn says to load all valuables into the transporter.”

  The two Prime troopers glanced around.

  “Can’t see any cattle,” one of them said.

  “To the northwest,” said Shaidan, pointing. “There.” The herd was drawing noticeably closer now.

  “I see them,” said the taller of the two. “Put the valuables into the transporter, you said?”

  “Yes,” nodded Shaidan. “Gotta go. I have to warn the village.”

  The cattle were running faster now, sending up denser clouds of dirt into the air. He could sense M’Nar and Jerenn already there, on the edges of the herd, forcing them to turn away from the river. The plan was to get them to run between the river and the base camp.

  * * *

  “They’re heading too far to the west!” shouted Jerenn as he and M’Nar, both on all fours, raced around the outer edges of the stampeding herd. “They’ll go right through the village!”

  “I know!” M’Nar shouted back. “I’ll try to get ahead of them and drive them east!”

  Jerenn suddenly found himself shadowed by two more Sholans, their shapes almost lost in the fine cloud of choking dust the beasts were kicking up.

  “Where d‘you want us?” shouted the younger one.

  “One with M’Nar on the west side, the other with me. Drive them back to us. We need them to go between the camp and the river!”

  “I’ll send Shamgar there and stay with you.”

  The herd of forty beasts had other ideas and despite the presence of two large predators—M’Nar
and Shamgar—they continued to head for the village.

  * * *

  Shaidan’s danger sense suddenly kicked in at the same time he heard Jerenn trying to warn him.

  Herd heading for you, Shaidan. Beware!

  Glancing to his right, he saw the cloud of dust getting closer. He could even hear the lowing of the cattle.

  Panic hit him like a shower of cold water and he almost stopped dead in fear. He reached out for the first adult mind he could find—M’Nar’s.

  Help me! he sent, forcing a link on the other Sholan. He felt the other’s shock, then the contact firmed.

  Where are you? asked M’Nar

  In front of the herd!

  Can you see them yet?

  Just. There are two males with huge horns leading them.

  Keep running, sent M’Nar while Shaidan heard him thinking, Crap, crap, crap!

  * * *

  M’Nar was thinking furiously about how to save Shaidan. He’d had a quick glimpse of the herd through the cub’s eyes, and it didn’t look good at all.

  I can’t outrun them, came Shaidan’s thought. I don’t want to die, Brother M’Nar. What can I do?

  As M’Nar ran through half a dozen scenarios in his mind, he realized only one had any chance of success.

  Do you remember what your father did when he got caught in a similar situation? You’re going to have to do the same. It’s your only chance.

  Look after Gaylla, Shaidan sent, then there was silence.

  Cursing, M’Nar forced himself to run faster. He couldn’t let anything happen to the cub!

  The thundering of hooves drowned out all other noises, and Shaidan had to force himself to push the sound away and face the oncoming stampede.

  The two leading bulls were at least ten lengths ahead of the rest of the herd. If he was going to leap up onto the back of one of them, he would need all the help he could get.

  At the back of his mind, he could hear a small yammering mental voice he recognized as Jerenn’s. He reached out to touch the other’s mind.

  Shaidan you can’t do this alone. You need a transfer of my hunting skills. Take what you need from me, kitling!

  What Jerenn was offering was a desperate solution for a desperate situation.

  Shaidan reached, letting all Jerenn’s skills flood his child’s mind—the skills of a Terminator Brother, one to whom the creed of Observe, assess, recruit, or destroy, was far more literal to him than the bulk of the Brotherhood. They were the top assassins, given the job of terminating rogue telepaths who tried to control or kill others.

  There, too, were the hunting skills that Shaidan needed. They would give him the practical physical skills he needed, but they were literally those of an adult-sized person, not a ten-year-old. It was still better than nothing.

  The pounding of the hooves drew closer. Shaidan could see the great muscles flexing on the shoulders and chest of the lead beast.

  Swallowing the terror that he felt, he changed direction, running toward the bull, trying to think only of Jerenn’s skills. He needed to jump onto the back of the beast, then hold on for dear life as he tried to slow this mad stampede.

  There was no margin for error; he only had one chance. Reaching the bull, he heard its labored breathing, saw the flaring nostrils. It scented him and moved to one side, but Shaidan was there. He passed it, then did an about turn, now running parallel to it.

  Snorting, the bull again began to veer, slowing slightly. The rest of the herd was catching up to it as Shaidan began to bunch his hind muscles, getting ready to leap.

  The time had come. To delay was death, to miss was death. He pushed the negative thoughts aside and leaped. Claws extended, he only managed to latch onto the side of the bull. Bounced up and down by the motion of the terrified beast, he scrabbled to get his rear claws dug as deeply as possible into the heaving flesh beneath him.

  The bull snorted and screamed its terror, beginning to turn to the left, heading away from the village.

  Hand over hand, Shaidan pulled himself upward painfully until he was lying along the bull’s back. Its terror of Shaidan now sent it dancing along, bucking and bellowing, threatening to unseat him.

  Searching the memories, he stretched forward and fastened his jaws on the bull’s shoulder, biting down just enough to make it stop bucking and continue running again.

  Biting the beast’s left shoulder had made it change direction toward the campsite. It was running flat out now, leaving the rest of the herd following at a greater and greater distance.

  His skill transfer told him he needed to get it past the village, and far enough ahead of the herd that he could apply a choke bite to its neck and bring it tumbling to the ground.

  Eyes smarting from the dust, he blinked, unable to see farther than the creature’s neck. He had to risk releasing his jaws, or he couldn’t lift his head and see where they were.

  Letting go, he began to raise his head only to feel his right-hand grip starting to slip. Thick-skinned as the bull was, Shaidan’s claws were only those of a youngling, not an adult Sholan, and they barely penetrated the thick hide.

  Terrified, he flexed his claws, tears springing to his eyes as he tried to hold on even more tightly. He risked a quick glance upward, seeing the adobe village coming into view on his right. He sank his teeth into the right side of the beast’s shoulder, making it swerve to the left. Counting to ten, he risked another look, this time both forward and behind him. Instincts borrowed from Jerenn told him that the time for the choke hold was getting close.

  Clinging on for dear life, hand over hand, he pulled himself upward till he could reach its neck. He made the mistake of glancing down, and all he could see was the ground speeding past as the sharp hooves pounded the dry soil into dust.

  He pulled back as a wave of terror washed through him. Jerenn was right. He might know what he should do, but he was only ten years old; he was too small and weak to do it.

  Think, he said to himself. There must be something that you can do! The point of biting the beast’s throat was to cut off its air supply. There had to be another way to do that. How did the bulls breathe? Only through their noses, unlike his people who could also breathe through their mouths. What if he could press its nose closed? It was easier to reach than the underside of its neck.

  He edged forward again until he could grasp the wide flaring horns, first with one hand, then with both. Flexing his hind claws, he dug in as deep as he could, eliciting a bellow of pain from the bull as its whole body seemed to twitch under him.

  He let go of the right horn slowly, reaching his now free hand across the bull’s head, until it was touching the top of the large, wet nose.

  Lunging forward, he grasped the sides of the nose in his hand and squeezed, digging in his claws for good measure.

  Bellowing its anger, the bull stopped dead in its tracks, and rearing up on its front legs, kicked its back ones high in the air.

  Shaidan hung on like grim death as it continued to buck and bellow, his palms becoming slick with sweat. He felt his grip on the bull’s horn loosening. Suddenly, he was sailing through the air to land on the ground in front of the bull. It snorted at him, lowering its head and bellowing its rage.

  Shaidan looked around frantically for the rest of the herd. Meanwhile, the bull was staring directly at him.

  Around him, the herd was gradually coming to a halt, as the other bull, a young one, had taken his lead from the herd leader and stopped.

  The ground under him began to shudder. He looked back to the bull, saw him snorting loudly and pawing the ground in front of him, ready to charge at any moment.

  Shaidan gulped. Slowly, he got up into a four-legged stance, gauging his distance from the bull. He rocked back on his feet, gathering himself to jump at the beast’s face. If he could reach the nose again . . .

  As he leaped, a blur
of movement from either side of him resolved itself into a black and a gray Sholan, both hurling themselves at opposite sides of the bull’s flanks. At the same time, his jaws closed on its nose.

  With a bellow of sheer terror, the bull rocked back on his legs, stumbling to his knees. M’Nar released his hold, and with a snarl, leaped onto the bull’s back.

  “Well done, youngling,” he said quietly, grasping the wickedly curved horns. “Let go now. We have it under control. Not many adults could have done what you just did.”

  Trembling, Shaidan let go and flopped back onto his haunches.

  “Best move round to the side, Shaidan,” growled M’Nar. “No point in keeping you in danger.”

  “Y . . . yes, M’Nar,” he stammered, trying to get to his feet. For some reason, his legs refused to work.

  “It’s just a reaction from the danger,” Jerenn reassured, letting the bull go and reaching out to help him to his feet.

  “You saved the village and the lives of the villagers,” said M’Nar. “If you hadn’t rushed him, many could’ve died.”

  “Don’t do this again, Shaidan,” said Jerenn, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Before you say it, we know that you didn’t get cut off on purpose, but your life really was at risk back there.”

  Shaidan nodded his agreement. “I have never been so scared in my life. I know now that skill transfers aren’t an answer for lack of training and age. I was too little to do what needed to be done.”

  “Good,” said Jerenn flicking an ear at M’Nar’s questioning look. “Nothing beats practice, young one, just remember that. You still did a remarkable job here, but maybe it would be better if we kept this to ourselves.”

  “Too late,” said M’Nar as the villagers, chattering and shouting, ran up to them.

  “You saved our herd!” the first one to arrive called out. “And without killing the alpha bull! We can’t thank you enough!”

  Two males ran up with leading ropes, which they efficiently fastened around the bull’s neck.

  “He’s our prize bull,” said the leading villager, tugging on his rope to make the beast stand.“We’ll corral them for the rest of today while we find out what made them stampede. They’re usually very docile. Something must have spooked them.”