She had to clean the numbweed out of the wound and that meant more water.
Skirill finally arrived with Max and Pack. She muscled Braden into the cart. He was unconscious and starting to get cold and clammy. She washed the wound; the numbweed was already working and it bled little.
Holding her sword upward, she fired short bursts from her blaster. The beams of light brazed the metal and continued into the sky. Soon the blade shimmered from the heat.
“Forgive me,” she said as she rolled the blade across the terrible cut that creased his chest. Braden lurched upright and screamed, then dropped, limp.
She threw the sword out of the cart and held him. He was alive. She gave him water, but he couldn’t swallow. She pulled on his braid, stroking it, even though it was matted with blood. “Come on back. Come on back to me.” She rocked with him in her arms, tears flowed down her cheeks. A big Aurochs muzzle reached into the cart and nudged them both. She patted his nose, while one of his horns got caught on the side board. He had to work to extricate himself without upsetting the cart.
Aadi reappeared. ‘Is there anything I can do, Master Micah?’
“Let’s get away from the rainforest. As far as we can go.”
Brandt nudged the horses and the cart bounced once as Speckles pulled it toward the north. Braden woke, but only for a few moments. Micah forced water on him. He was in and out, but every time he could, she gave him more water.
The Golden Warrior, Prince Axial De’atesh, wouldn’t leave Braden’s side. He leaned against his chest, purring constantly. Micah wondered about that, but the ‘cat let her know it would be soothing for him, help Braden calm himself. From there, he could start to recover.
She didn’t realize that the cart had stopped moving. Skirill was perched at her side, Aadi hovered overhead, and Brandt stood alongside.
“I smell sweet pork,” Braden said groggily, mumbling the words.
“What?” Micah asked. Of all things to think about when he came to…
“Sweet pork. I smell it. Not hungry.” Each word was an effort for him.
“Shhh.” Micah held up the flask. He nodded. This time, he drank deeply before lying back.
She saw that Braden’s pillow was his supply of the special meat from Coldstream. If anything could urge him back to health, it was his favorite food. She covered him with a blanket and climbed out of the cart.
“Now let’s take a look at you,” she told Brandt.
64 – Heal
It was three turns later before Braden was able to move around on his own. Micah set up camp where they stopped and that’s where they stayed. The companions kept them safe as Braden recovered his strength.
Micah had also recharged the blasters, making sure all four were out and ready for use.
Micah used all their numbweed supply on Brandt. He’d been hurt more badly than he let on. Two of the spear tips had bitten deeply between his ribs, although they didn’t penetrate his lungs. She still needed him to not move around so much. Aadi went back for the numbweed bush so she could process more. She’d seen Braden do it a few times, but that wasn't the same as doing it yourself.
She had to throw out the first batch.
The second batch was marginal, and finally, the third batch was normal.
Brandt was a powerful creature and wouldn’t let his injuries hold him back. He grazed with vigor, acting like the mass quantities of grass he ingested would help him heal.
He was probably right.
Following Braden’s lead, he also drank a great deal of water.
Skirill flew a long way both east and west, watching for signs of the Amazonians. He saw many of the Lizard Men, but they moved quickly, not lingering near the Plains of Propiscius. He did not believe they intended to attack the companions.
Aadi once again proved to be their secret weapon. He told Micah what the Amazonians had shared, and then repeated it all when Braden was strong enough to listen. As Zalastar had told them, there were multiple factions. The battle they had the misfortune of joining was between three groups vying for supremacy in this area. Braden and Micah killed all the warriors from one group and most of the members from the second. Brandt’s charge was into the middle of the second group, which put the remnants between Brandt and the third group. By not killing those last four, Aadi extracted a right to pass from them. This group, although a long way from the ancients' road, had allies who seized part of the south side of the Amazon.
Zalastar and his people were forced out of the depths of the rainforest. They held the road, most of the way through the Amazon, and all the area to the east where there were far fewer Amazonians. Although Zalastar led the largest of the factions, it wasn’t a majority of all Amazonians. If the others could unite, then they could overwhelm him.
“But why?” Braden asked. Micah hung her head. She’d already heard the answer.
‘Us, I’m afraid.’ Aadi floated close to Braden. ‘Many Amazonians consider themselves to be still at war with the humans. When we made contact with Zalastar and started trading, too many others could not live with it. They remembered the stories they were told of doing the ancients’ work, only to be abandoned when the war started.
‘Those who shared the croc that night with us have tried to convince the others that you aren’t like the ancients. You are a new breed of human, willing to partner as equals with any creature who sees a better world, one free of conflict.’
“Judging by the ongoing war, I believe they weren’t successful.” Braden laughed, ending with a wince. His side hurt. The burn didn’t help, but Micah had stopped the bleeding.
He’d eaten all the sweetened pork, which made him feel as good as he was going to feel, under the conditions.
Micah told him she needed to learn how to shoot the recurve bow. She couldn’t hunt deer with a sword and a blaster.
Braden realized that she probably hadn’t eaten in quite some time. “When’s the last time you ate?” She shrugged him away.
G-War and Skirill set out without another word. Over the next hour, as her neural implant told her, Skirill flew back three times, dropping a freshly-killed rabbit each time.
She cleaned them and started a fire. Brandt rooted up wild vegetables that he found, bringing a mouthful to her. She cleaned off the Aurochs spit in the stream and added the vegetables to the pot. She sliced the meat, adding it as well. She also dug into Braden’s pack as he watched, pulling out the vial of saffrimander. She raised her eyebrows and he nodded once. She tapped a minute portion into the pot. Rabbit stew was good for the soul and there was going to be a lot of it.
When G-War returned, he looked as if he’d already eaten his fill, as had Skirill. Game was plentiful on the edge of the rainforest. For that, she was thankful, but it also made her wary. Their enemy lurked in the shadows. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to enter the rainforest again without having both blasters in hand.
Micah was thankful for the companions. As the stew cooked, she went to each of them, touching them on their heads and letting them know how much she appreciated their help. Braden watched her, knowing she was much better at that stuff than he’d ever be.
‘Not true, partner mine. You’re pretty good, too, although that’s probably Free Trader Braden and not you at all,’ she said over their mindlink.
‘If I could, I’d make you pay for that!’
‘By “if I could,” you mean that even if you were healthy, you wouldn’t be able to. I’ll take that as a compliment.’
He looked at her, desire rising within him. She saw it and stepped back from him, dropping her clothing on the ground one piece at a time until she wore nothing.
“Gentle, lover,” Braden said softly. He was certain this would help him heal more quickly. Micah was past her initial scare that Braden would die. Now it was time to celebrate, even if only gently, then they’d try the saffrimander-infused rabbit stew. It was shaping up to be a perfect turn.
65 – Westerly
“Horsehair,”
Braden said out of the blue. “All this time. We don’t need thread. We have the finest horsehair in all the south!”
“What are you talking about?” Micah had just woken from a long night of sound sleep. Braden’s good arm was wrapped around her.
“To sew up wounds. Hairs from a horse’s tail. They are thinner than the finest thread and probably strong enough. I’ll have to ask Max if I can liberate a few to add to my kit. The next one of us that needs sewn up is going to get a little help from Max.” Braden wondered why he hadn’t thought of that before. He’d ridden mindlessly for incredible distances and all of a sudden, it came to him.
He couldn’t help what had passed. At least they didn’t need thread and for this, he was thankful. He hoped they didn’t need the horsehair either. He had enough of sewing up wounds.
Micah stood, stretching in front of Braden before putting her clothes on. Ahh, he thought, the little things that make life worth living. Micah smiled back at him, having heard what he thought.
He got up, slowly, still sore but able to move. He then tried to repair his shirt and tunic using one of his own hairs, but it was too brittle. Then he used one from Max’s tail, and it held.
Max didn’t complain. He had a long tail.
Finally, they started traveling again.
Skirill flew ahead. They wanted to be sure everything was normal before entering the village. Ideally, they would get a number of the villagers to emigrate to Greentree and Dwyer.
They could make it to Westerly before mid-daylight on the second turn. That would give them plenty of time to talk with the villagers. If things got hot, they could leave and put a good distance between them.
The village looked active and normal as Skirill flew high overhead. No one seemed to notice the Hawkoid fly by casually, then turn for another pass. Braden wanted to know if the old man was around, the one who gave them grief last time. Skirill didn’t see him. He saw the young man who spoke before. He seemed to be going about his business without a concern.
“Looks like we could get a warm welcome,” Braden said. “Shall we?”
He still needed Micah’s help to get into the saddle, although he was feeling much better. G-War joined him. Micah climbed aboard Speckles, threw the rope for Aadi to grab, and they were off, with Brandt leading the way.
They topped the final rise before the village. Last time, they stopped to make sure they were noticed before entering. This time they strolled directly into the village. They waved, like old friends.
The villagers waved back. Many cheered. The young man who wanted to build homes was the first to come up to them. He held out his hand for Braden to take.
Braden hesitated. If it was a trick, he was in no condition to fight back. Micah knew what he felt and she edged close, ready to engage. G-War crouched, but he didn’t appear alarmed.
Braden grasped the young man’s hand firmly. He gave Braden a big smile.
“We stopped giving part of our food to the old man and he stopped sharing his leadership with us. Guess what?” The crowd hooted and cheered. “Things got better!”
“So where’s the old man now,” Braden asked.
“In the fields, fending for himself.” Another cheer.
“What’s your name?” Braden asked after the crowd calmed down.
“I’m Felip, Felip of Westerly. And you, Free Trader Braden, and your companions are always welcome in our village.”
66 – The Western Ocean
“Is anyone still interested in going with us?” Far fewer hands than he expected went up. Sometimes a change in leadership could work wonders. And no one had to die. Braden nodded to Micah. She smiled back.
“You can go with us if you don’t mind walking. There’s plenty of work, good homes, villagers who will welcome you and work beside you. You won’t be sorry. Get your things ready. We’ll leave in a couple turns. First, we want to see the Western Ocean. Then we’ll be back.” Braden finished his speech. They shook hands and slapped people on the back good-naturedly as the crowd broke up. They spoke to Felip alone for a while to make sure the village was okay.
Braden also wanted to show trade items from the east: rope, woodwork, a few metal items, tanned hides, dye, special tunics.
The villagers from Westerly had never seen anything besides what they themselves made. When Braden and Micah showed the wares in the cart, the villagers were wowed. They saw the power of possibility. Braden smiled at the want in their eyes. He’d set the hook. Westerly would anchor the trade route.
They said that they could fill wagons with vegetables from their fields. Braden told them that the artisans needed to eat and food for items like wood and metal made for a good trade. They left Felip with much to think about.
They celebrated heartily that evening. The next morning, with the sun rising behind them, they rode out.
Skirill showed them the way while they dutifully updated the maps in the database. The terrain started to get rougher as the extensive Plains of Propiscius gave way to the ocean approaches. Hills, cliffs, ravines, and other weather-savaged lands lay before them. They stopped early, well before sunset. They unhooked the cart and hid it. They couldn’t drag it further without risking damage to it.
They had no intention of delaying things. They could taste the change in the air as the wind pushed toward them from the yet unseen ocean. Micah breathed deeply, closing her eyes. It smells like home, she thought. She missed that smell, the comforting sound of the ocean, but not her village.
‘Hungry and many choice meals are close by,’ G-War said as he sat, watching them. Braden dropped everything except his recurve bow and made to leave with the ‘cat.
“Ahem.” Micah stood there, arms crossed. She didn’t look happy.
“What?” He didn’t know he’d done. She sighed and shook her head.
“Give me the bow. I’m going, and I’ll do the shooting.”
“But you haven’t used the bow,” Braden started, still confused.
“Exactly. Remember when I told you I needed to learn to use your bow?” She looked at him, hand still out as she waited for him to give her the bow.
“It’s still a little foggy. Maybe…” Micah cut him off by snapping her fingers and waving once more for him to hand over the bow.
G-War stood and started walking away. Humans…
Braden surrendered, handing her the bow and one arrow, and then put his hands up. She was right, of course. This was a partnership and in reality, his side still hurt. The muscles were stitching themselves back together.
She started to walk past him, following the ‘cat, when he grabbed her with his right arm and pulled her toward him. Their noses touched as he locked his eyes on her. “I love you.” She pushed him away, blushing and smiling. It was nice when arguments could end like this.
He stopped smiling very shortly thereafter.
Micah’s first three shots were woefully off target, resulting in three broken arrows and no prey. Braden did not have many arrows left. He was down to his last few, when she decided that this wasn’t the best way to practice. Her arm pull was shorter than Braden’s, but she was physically stronger. She had a tendency to jerk the bowstring back, muscling it into position. When she let go of the arrow, she pushed her arm holding the bow forward, almost like she was trying to throw the arrow at the target. It didn’t work. He tried talking with her as she aimed, but that scared the game and made her take a snap shot at a running animal.
She gave the bow back so they could have something to supplement their gracious amount of Westerly vegetables. Braden tested the pull. He tried not to flinch as pain stabbed his side. He’d pull once, when they saw their next target.
G-War guided them impatiently to a smallish boar. Braden figured G-War could probably take it down himself if he wanted. If Braden missed, he felt that was exactly what would happen.
He refused to give the ‘cat the satisfaction and dropped the boar with a single clean shot, from which he recovered the intact arrow. They smoked the
boar in entirety. They had time and wanted a reserve of meat. They spent the evening with the camaraderie of all the companions.
Micah wanted to hear the story of how G-War and Braden bonded. G-War’s version was significantly different from Braden’s, but entertaining regardless. Braden reveled in the joy of the road, of the trade. This was how he grew up.
There were no expectations. They traded, they moved on. People welcomed them when they arrived. As they talked, it was easy to forget for that short period of time that the Amazonians had started a war. The least he could do was keep the humans out of it.
These thoughts soured his mood. But the humans started it and then got into the middle of it too. They’d have to think and figure out what to do next, even if the answer was to move the trade routes north, away from the rainforest.
Micah punched him gently in the arm, bringing him back to the moment. Enjoy right now. It’s what we have, she thought. It was hard to argue with that logic. He hoisted his flask of water and took a deep drink as if it were the finest wine from the best fabricator.
With sunrise, the companions stood on the hill, watching, waiting while Skirill flew ahead. He went all the way to the ocean and was surprised by the number of huts. They stood above the water line, up and down the shore as far as he could see. He didn’t find anything that looked like a village, just huts and few people. There seemed to be fewer people than places to live. The companions wondered.
Only one way to find out.
They chose their path, easier without the cart, and headed into the hills and down a ravine. By mid-daylight, the companions stood on the beach. The King of the Aurochs learned the hard way that he couldn’t drink the ocean. He was less than pleased that no one stopped him before getting a mouthful of saltwater. They looked at each other. Aadi didn’t drink like that and Micah had told Braden and G-War at some point that they couldn’t drink the water. Skirill could sense the salt, plus the constant movement of the water kept him from landing anywhere near it.
The Free Trader of Planet Vii Page 20
