by Ann Raina
As a result, the Horlyn took two steps back, ignoring the crash of undergrowth behind it. A sound came from it that Sajitar interpreted as confusion. The tweeting became high and unpleasant. It cocked its mighty head toward the other direction. Then, without warning, Sajitar received the answering image.
Lots of Horlyns gathered around a large place with huts, fireplaces and people of different ages and different gender. They were dressed in rustic clothes as they wandered about a small village. They talked with each other and seemed content. They saw the Horlyns and waved at them as if they liked for them to be around.
The image was suddenly gone and Sajitar opened his eyes again. He sat on his butt, panting.
The Horlyn had left.
“What happened?” Rayenne asked, sitting up in her sleeping bag. Her hair was a mess of black locks, her eyes still puffy from sleep. She disentangled from the sleeping bag and pulled on her jacket and pants before joining him. “Are you all right?”
“The Horlyns have been to a village.” His voice was high, incredulous. He cleared his throat. “They watched the people living there. I’ve never seen them in settlements. Yes, we know of the small, flying ones that take a trip to the huts and houses, but they never stay long or land to watch people at their daily work. But the ones I just saw… They studied the men.”
Rayenne pulled up her nose and took a look around as if checking for more Horlyns to tell them stories.
“Is it so unusual?”
“Yes! They never got so close. And now…” He lacked the words to describe his sudden anxiety. For as long as men had inhabited Belthraine they had expected the adult Horlyns to stay in their large territories. Men risked their mind and body if they entered the huge woods, but they were safe outside, as if unseen posts marked the areas. There had been no reports of Horlyns being within villages. The image the Horlyn had just sent him turned his knowledge upside down. “If they have started to watch the settlers, they’ll drive them out sooner or later.”
“No, they won’t.” Rayenne put a lock back behind her ear and groped for a comb inside her jacket. “Mankind has always known how to defend itself.”
“But the Horlyns are much more powerful than they showed us.” He looked up to her, still shaken. “They killed a group of men.”
Rayenne frowned and started combing her hair.
“Nearby?”
“I can’t tell. The pictures don’t come with a map. I only know that a group of Horlyns killed armed men in orange jumpsuits.”
“I suppose the men were out to kill the Horlyns.”
“Yes, probably.” When he thought about it, Rayenne’s assumption rang with truth. “Is it possible these men work for the police?”
“No. Horlyns would only be shot if they threatened people in their settlements. Otherwise they are left alone.” She shook her head, thinking. “I’ve never heard of a police raid through the woods to kill or scare away Horlyns.”
“Then who does it?”
She put away the comb, shrugging.
“It has been illegal for more than fifty standard years to hunt animals in Belthraine’s woods, but that doesn’t mean that criminals respect that rule.” She waited for him to look up. “If I was to make an assumption, it’s Sanjongy’s men who are out to kill Larolydis. All we know is that they live with the Horlyns. Maybe that’s what you saw.”
“I hate these visions, Ray. I wished I could get rid of them.”
“But they might be useful sooner than you think.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s not bad to know about the moves of your enemies, is it? Though I admit, a map would indeed be useful.”
They rode in silence for the best part of the day, only stopping to rest the horses and eat a few bites. Sajitar did not dare turn too often to Rayenne, who answered when asked, but made clear in her clipped tone that she had not yet forgiven his lies. To his chagrin, he wished he had not felt the urge to lie to her in the first place, but it could not be helped. He understood her harsh reaction and still felt drawn toward her, even more than before. The old saying You don’t know what you have until it's gone took on a whole new meaning for him.
Lacking another occupation, he pondered the dream he had. Within the woods, Sajitar usually only received visions the Horlyns sent him. Fulfilling wishes for a partner was not on the Horlyns’ list. Could it be that they play with my emotions? Do they have access to my memories, even if I don’t?
In the early afternoon, he directed his B-horse to a group of trees that stood so close to each other their trunks created an almost solid wall, protection against the chill wind that had accompanied them throughout the day. He dismounted, unsaddled Tessla and put down his saddlebags.
“We could ride on for another hour,” Rayenne said from the back of her gelding.
Sajitar glanced at her.
“Sure. But our provisions are almost gone and I need to hunt.”
“What is there to hunt?”
“A kind of bird.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if it has a name, but it’s an animal easy to shoot.” He reached out to her. “If you’d give me my gun, I could be on my way.”
“You expect me to trust you with a gun?” She snorted, then dismounted to take off the saddle. “I still have my wits, Sajitar. So if you want to hunt, you’ll direct me and I’ll shoot.”
“You think I’d shoot you and leave?”
Rayenne stared at him, unblinking, gun in hand.
He shook his head. “Please, Ray, don’t do that. I wouldn’t hurt you or leave you stranded.”
“I wouldn’t be stranded, and I know to defend myself. Still, liars cannot be trusted, and I want you to stay close to me until I can hand you to a judge.”
She hobbled her B-horse and with a fierce glance went past him like a cloud of bad weather. He sighed and did not protest.
Since the noise had scared away the smaller beasts they had to walk a quarter mile from their makeshift camp and listen to the sounds of the woods around them. Sajitar directed Rayenne with short hand signs or tapped her slightly on the shoulder. He breathed her scent and wished he could stop to embrace and kiss her. The feeling inside him did not leave just because she had discovered his secret.
Her denial had made it worse and he was reminded of Sananda’s hard way with men who had failed her. He had once seen a man bound tight to a wall. He had not made a sound, and Sajitar, still in Sananda’s undisclosed favor, had not even asked her to set him free. At that time he had expected all men to stay with her of their own free will and love it. No one had ever complained about her treatment. Who was he to criticize her actions? If men wanted to stay with her, they accepted the way of life she offered. For Sajitar, that had been the simple rule to follow. Sananda had caught him in a silver trap and he had not wanted out for weeks.
Only during his flight from Belson Park had he realized how long he had stayed with her. The weeks had appeared so short! They had been so pleasant. He had worked at the spaceport and whenever he had thought of Sananda and how wonderful it would be to be with her, there had been a driver and a carriage waiting for him, as if he had a mute but effective communication with Sananda. Every time, she had welcomed him like the only lover she craved to see. And maybe for a time that had been true. He had been naïve and young and still not battered by the hard life in the growing city. Maybe his innocence and rural charm had attracted her. He could not tell. However, the affection had been mutual.
His side itched, growing worse. Stopping, he blew out air and put his hands on his knees. The long ride had not helped the wound’s healing and he wished to lie down and rest.
“Hey, hang on!”
Sajitar jerked up his head. Rayenne held him fast at his arms, but he still swayed. He swallowed and straightened slowly, regaining his balance.
“Sorry, I guess, I’m just tired.”
“And in pain, I see. We should shorten this venture.”
He squinted up the closest tree.
&nbs
p; “The trick with those birds is they hang upside down and watch whatever happens on the ground. You can’t surprise them, but you can wake their curiosity.” He took two steps forward and waved his arms as if trying to fly.
Rayenne followed his gaze up. There was movement along the trunk and in one of the bigger branches, obscured by long orange leaves.
“This is the one?”
Sajitar continued waving and dancing around the tree.
“Just shoot if you get a clear shot.”
“Will do.” Ray lifted the gun, trying to be invisible while Sajitar did his little dance. The bird’s head appeared between two small branches, curious eyes watching him. She guessed at the rest of the body, took aim and shot. A high and long shriek followed. Birds flew up, rustling through the leaves. In their eagerness they dropped their caution and Rayenne shot again. This time the bird simply stopped in midair and fell down. “Ha! I can still scoop the kitty!” She looked down to where the bird had crashed and saw Sajitar slumped on the ground. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
“What?” Wearily he lifted his head. “Dance is over. Collect the money and head home.”
She knelt in front of him.
“Will you make it back to the campsite?”
“Go, get the bird. I’ll be on my feet in a moment.” He tried for a smile, feeling content with the way the day went on and not only because they would share a hearty meal. “Go. It might not be dead yet.”
“That’ll change in a sec.” She turned and went to fetch the bird. “It’s much bigger than I thought,” she called to him when she dangled her prey in front of his face. “It’ll make a fine dinner.”
Sajitar clenched his teeth to get up without yelping in pain. He staggered a few steps then found his pace and walked back to the B-horses unaided. With the waterskin in hand, he dropped unceremoniously on the ground beside a trunk and left the plucking as well as preparing the campsite to Rayenne. She made no comment. Through half-closed eyes he watched her busying herself with the cooking pot and then, while the bird steamed, she pitched the tent, secured the surroundings with her gizmos and fed the horses with the rest of the grain from her saddlebags.
Only then did she turn back to him.
“I have to look after the wound.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re stupid.” She cocked her head left and right. “In more than one way. But I won’t let you get sick if I can avoid it.”
“I won’t ruin your case against Wang.”
“And I don’t want to bind you on your B-horse just to get you to Belson Park.”
Sajitar shifted his position. The pain moved from the side to the center, slightly lower than his stomach. He tried to straighten, but stopped when the pain intensified. Deliberately he sat up a little straighter and put his hand under his shirt. Pressing lightly, he searched for the bullet running astray through his body, but could not find it. The image of a solid object moving between his stomach, liver and kidney dampened his mood. The thought of dying in the forest appeared unbidden. He also knew that their enemy might still be informed about their position and could wait until they reached the outskirts of the city. He would be in no condition to fight.
“Where is the transmission station next to Belson Park?”
Rayenne looked up, searching his face for the source of his question. “Atalanta Village.”
Sajitar nodded. He had heard the name before and briefly wondered why he was unable to remember.
“Shall I give you something against the pain?”
“No, it’s not that bad.”
“You’re sweating. And you look positively ill.”
“If I faint, keep something of the bird for me.”
“It was a long day in the saddle. Why didn’t you say a word?”
Again, Sajitar fought for a smile. “You didn’t look very lenient, Ms Officer. I wouldn’t want to upset you. You might have used that against me.”
Rayenne nodded without giving in. She checked the progress of the bird, then fetched her first aid kit and knelt beside him.
“Lie down.” He just slid to the side, suppressing a groan. Rayenne lifted his jacket and shirt to examine the elastic membrane. “It’s still okay, nothing torn. There’s no blood, so it’s not ripped open. Where does it hurt most?” He put his hand below his stomach. “So it’s not the wound. May I try and find it?”
“I already tried. You can’t find it just by touching.”
She showed him her hands and wiggled her fingers.
“Let me try.”
“Be my guest.”
Without looking, she let her hands travel from below his ribcage toward his abdomen and Sajitar did his best to just stare at the tree-tops, hands loose at his sides. He hardly breathed. Her care moved him, but at the same moment he knew she meant what she had said.
“It’s here.”
Sajitar glanced along his lower body.
“It’s a small spot, hard to find, but it can’t be intestines unless you ate whole nuts while I didn’t watch.”
His fingers met hers, but he was unable to detect the spot.
“Can you take it out?”
“No.” She took away her hands and rubbed them at her pants while he pulled down his shirt. “It’s impossible. It’s embedded and probably connected to the tissue around. You’ll have to wait for surgery until we reach a medical care unit.”
Sajitar only nodded, staring at her beautiful face while a gloomier possibility hung unspoken between them.
With Rayenne’s help he made it back on horseback in the morning. She wasn’t as closed to him as before, but still Sajitar felt her reserve like a sting to his heart. When he tried to talk to her, she cut him short, vaulted into the saddle and asked him for directions. He had no choice but to sigh and ride on.
Sajitar felt more than knew that they were getting closer to the heart of the old forest. Not only did it get warmer, the vegetation changed again. The trees appeared like the legs of giants standing close and watching from above. The branches hung low and more often than not the two riders had to crouch over the withers to stay in the saddles. They had to cross a hill, but not even the elevation granted them a view further than toward the next gigantic trees. Between them mist had settled like thousands of diamonds in cobwebs. Insects flew in and out, drinking and parading, finding others and parting again. He glimpsed small predators vanishing in the undergrowth and heard the hectic voices of animals fleeing them. From a large branch on his way a bird lifted into the sky. Its wings were wider than the span of his arms.
Sajitar watched the simple life enviously, regretting more than his recent poor decisions.
The work at the spaceport had certain advantages, though he had only been hired to mop the floors. The security guards knew him and one, who was fond of him, recommended him to his boss and soon Sajitar began training for a spaceport guard. He was grateful and eager to learn, ignoring the mockery of the other trainees about the young lumberjack who rejected following in his father’s tracks. They had not wanted the woodboy in their midst, but he had proven that he could do far more than learning the duties of a guard. He had taken them into the woods on a free day and showed them some of the beauties. He had boasted of his knowledge to be finally acknowledged. It had worked. Someone had traded information to Sananda Wang. Someone had told her about the spaceport apprentice with the astonishing knowledge.
And then she had met him.
Sajitar took a deep breath. The pain was there, lurking more or less in his left side and center. He watched the sun filter through massive treetops, and where it reached ground new plants spread. The B-horses greedily ate the fresh leaves as they passed and Sajitar had no strength left to keep Tessla from stopping here and there.
“Wait. Someone’s been here,” Rayenne stated matter-of-factly. She gazed along the way they were about to take. Noon was almost over and the shadows grew longer.
“Who?”
“A heavy man.” She got off the B-h
orse and knelt on the ground. “He was here some hours ago, probably in the morning.”
“Which direction?”
“Away from us. He carried something over his right shoulder.”
“Like an axe?”
“Yes.”
Sajitar propped himself on both hands and studied the surroundings while Tessla hung her head to relax and search for more sprigs.
“Can’t be a lumberjack. Not that deep in the woods.”
“Could be someone with a large rifle, then.”
He raised his brows. “You’re an optimist by nature, I see.”
“My father taught me to think situations through, not to rely on the first solution jumping my mind.” Rayenne put her hands on her thighs, gazing the track up and down. “And you told me about your visions. About men in jumpsuits shooting Horlyns.” She looked up to him. “Could it be this place?”
Sajitar smiled weakly, easing his butt on the saddle.
“I’m good at orientation, but just from a vision I can’t tell one part of the woods from another. That’s asking too much. If I should make a guess, though, I’d say it was not here. The trees around are too large.”
“Okay. Let us go on.” She mounted again and, with a last glance at the trace, she turned Bunty away and back on their unseen path. “Or do you want a break?”
“No.” Sajitar set up straight for the time she eyed him, only to slump back on the saddle when she turned away. He prayed for more strength or for the bullet to just slip into a niche where it did not hurt anymore.
Tessla stumbled over a root and Sajitar hung over her withers, biting his lips to not scream. The pain had gotten intense during the last hour. His left side was on fire with every move. He felt like vomiting and could not. He wanted to lie down and sleep, but there was still light and they had to cover as much ground as possible. Yet with every step of the animal he got weaker. His iron grip on the mane loosened and if Tessla had been a young, inexperienced B-horse she would have already thrown him off. But she trotted on, carefully balancing his weight.
