Visions of Chaos

by Des Pensable

  The third member of the group was a slim, dark tan, grey bearded old newman, shorter and thinner than Zephira, wearing faded cotton traveller’s clothes and clutching a weatherworn painted bamboo umbrella. He was supposed to be the party’s magic user, but he looked like he was one step from the grave, and she wondered what use he might be if there was a fight. He called himself Gastan the Great.

  The boat slowly and laboriously wound its way to the centre of the bay and headed towards the river entrance, then slowed to a stop. Everyone sat looking nervously at the sea. Suddenly, the greenish water off the bow foamed and boiled off the back of a gigantic sea creature, rising from the water only fifty paces from the boat. Zephira froze in awe and fear. She had only heard of creatures like these from the tales of drunken sailors. It was a gigantic turtle or, more precisely, a dragon turtle, one of the most dangerous creatures in the sea.

  ‘We are all dead,’ she thought.

  The turtle roared in a deep resonant voice ‘Have you brought tribute?’

  ‘Yes, mighty one,’ yelled the captain of the boat. ‘We have your favourite food, squid!’

  ‘My favourite food is newmans, but squid might do as a snack. Give it to me now and be gone, or I might change my mind,’ said the turtle.

  The captain ordered the two young boys to throw the baskets of squid over the sides and he hurriedly paddled off towards the river, leaving the dragon to its lunch.

  ‘Why didn’t you warn me about that?’ Zephira asked Belloe angrily.

  ‘You never asked me,’ he replied with a smug smile. ‘He’s the town’s mascot. Doesn’t eat too many locals either, as long as we keep him well fed.’ All the males on the boat, including Chantalot, laughed loudly at the angry look on her face.

  Zephira thought, ‘I’ll remember this, Chantalot.’

  When the boat was at the centre of the mouth of the river, the captain ordered the sail to be unfurled, even though there didn’t appear to be any breeze. Gastan, the magic user, stumbled up to the seat anchored securely on the deck, sat down in the chair, closed his umbrella and pulled out a small golden bellows hanging from a chain about his neck. He pointed the bellows at the sail, mumbled a word or two, and started pumping the miniature bellows. A strong gust of wind sprang up, filling the sail, and the craft took off and was soon skimming across the water at a gut wrenching pace. They were on their way.

  Chapter 27 The Little People

  Zephira sat near the bow, with Goth more near the geometric centre of the boat, to help distribute his weight more safely. She watched, fascinated, by the variety of birds in the air and on the water, as the boat, with a full sail of magic wind, sped up the river almost silently. The jungle was alive with creatures of every type. She had spent so much time in bleak environments in recent years that she had forgotten what wild nature was like. It both thrilled and scared her.

  She was annoyed at having to rely on this group of barbarians that she had hired, but needed their local knowledge. Chantalot wasn’t much help. He sang bawdy songs while they joined in the chorus. Perhaps he was trying to calm their apprehensions about taking Goth along. He had the uncanny ability to be able to read people’s feelings and manipulate them to serve his purposes.

  Her fanciful daydreams were interrupted as Belloe joined her in the bow. ‘I thought that I would fill yer in on what will happen during the next couple of days,’ he said. ‘The boat be making good progress, we should be at the Barra village around sunset. We’ll stay there till morning and continue on to our camp tomorrow. We should be there sometime in the late afternoon.’

  ‘The head of the village elders be a kindly little fellow, and for certain supplies will lend us several of their kind who will act as guides, as well as carry our supplies and track down yer magic animals and plants. With luck we should be able to find most of the items yer wanted within a week or so.’

  ‘What sort of illegal goods are you going to bribe the natives with?’ asked Zephira.

  ‘Yer in frontier country,’ said Belloe. ‘In Mudrun, nothing’s illegal, but some things are restricted and in short supply. There be many poisons and useful drugs in the jungle. In some worlds they be illegal, but here they be just another item for trade and profit here.

  ‘In Mudrun, there be little iron. Hence all goods made of iron are in short supply. Yer may have noticed that most of the weapons are poor quality. The little people can’t get enough iron weapons. Axes, knives, jungle swords and spear points are all in great demand and good for trading. Yer can buy a women slave for an axe out here. I’d be careful showing yer fancy daggers, men have been killed for far less than that.’

  After a while Zephira sat daydreaming. She had become bored watching the river and was content to sit there with the breeze blowing through her hair, letting her mind wander over the past few days. Suddenly the sound of the water spraying from the bow lessened, as the boat slowed and drifted almost to a stop. She turned to see the two young native boys placing small bits of firewood and some charcoal in a large stone bowl.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she asked, of no one in particular.

  ‘Gastan, the wizard needs a break,’ replied Belloe. ‘He has to concentrate to keep the wind going at the right strength and direction and he be getting tired. We’ll pull over near the bank in the shade and have a cup of tea and some food. You might need to put on some insect repellent as they will be pretty bad.’

  Pretty bad was an understatement. Horrendous was more appropriate, thought Zephira, as she slapped on copious amounts of the sweet smelling liquid on her bare body parts, trying to keep the cloud of several types of biting insects at bay. Even The Orc wasn’t too happy about them, and he looked to have a pretty tough hide. She was just starting to sip the hot sweet tea from her wooden mug when the first one struck.

  It was like a cross between a large mosquito and a bat, but as big as a house cat. It landed on the back of one of the native boys plunged its giant bloodsucker into him and he let out a scream that nearly gave everyone a heart attack on the spot. Belloe was the quickest to respond. He pulled out a dagger, charged over to the boy and slashed at the creature.

  ‘Watch out everyone there’s bloody vampire spawn here,’ he yelled.

  The next moment the creatures were everywhere, diving, clawing, grabbing, screeching, as they tried to attach themselves onto someone, so that they could feed on their victim’s blood. The boat rocked dangerously with people ducking and weaving. The boy with the spawn already attached jumped overboard, still screaming. Two landed on Belloe and tried to stab their suckers into his neck. The wizard sent out a flurry of flaming missiles. One of the vampire spawn dropped dead into the water. Two others were injured, but kept attacking.

  Zephira dropped her mug and whipped out her daggers just as one landed on her back. The attack on Zephira triggered Goth into action. It stood up, growing in size and weight as it unstrapped its mighty sword. The boat lurched with the sudden increase in weight. She felt the boat rock precariously and realized what was happening. She spun around. ‘No!’ she shouted to the construct. ‘I am not in danger. Sit down.’

  It was too late! The rocking boat caused the construct to stumble and fall. It grabbed for the railing and its great weight flipped the boat over. Everyone went flying through the air into the water. Two crocodiles watching the calamity launched themselves off the bank into the river.

  The river water was a beautiful cool temperature for bathing but had a muddy smell and taste to it. These were her background thoughts as she surfaced gasping for air. She quickly looked around, saw heads bobbing, arms splashing and heard a lot of really bad obscenities coming from her companions. The spawn still flapped around overhead, but soon realized that their prey was too difficult to attack when immersed in water, and flew off to find lunch elsewhere.

  Everyone except the boat owner swam for the shore about twenty paces away. He swam to the overturned hull of the boat and slid aboard. She thought it was lucky that nobody was wearing armour as th
ey might have sunk like her construct. Unlike Goth, they would have probably drowned.

  Suddenly, there was a scream and a splash in the water near her, and as she looked around she saw the tail of a crocodile disappearing under the water. Seconds later, she felt a pair of jaws grab hold of her left leg and she was lucky to get a quick breath before being dragged under as well. Bloody crocodile she thought sarcastically. That’s all I need to make this a perfect afternoon.

  Zephira knew that the crocodile’s bite was unlikely to kill her. The real danger was drowning. She let her body relax, calmed her mind and with her hand touched one of the gemstones on her necklace and thought of her little dog Tessa to release its power. Her body transformed into a newman-like creature covered with scales, with webbed fingers, sharp claws, and most importantly, gills and eyes that were designed for seeing underwater. She took a breath or two then considered her predicament. The crocodile was unaware of her change. It would just keep her under water until she ceased moving, and then it would take her somewhere to eat.

  She twisted down grabbing the crocodile’s jaw with one hand and drove the claws of her other into one of its eyes. The crocodile jerked its head back and rolled, trying and succeeding in breaking her grip. She flowed with the roll and when it stopped shaking her, she again swivelled around, grabbed its jaw and stabbed at the other eye. The crocodile still hung on. It jerked and pitched and dived for the bottom but wouldn’t release its grip on her. This was getting annoying she thought. If she was jerked around enough she might break a bone. It’s time for more drastic action.

  Before she could do anything, she caught sight of a dark shape to the side. There was a flash of light and the crocodile’s head separated from its body as the great sword of her construct cleaved through it. She sent a mental signal to the construct that she was all right and that it should grab hold of her and levitate upwards. She would change back to her normal body just before it brought her out of the water so the others would not know of her shape-changing ability. This might reduce the likely complaints against bringing it along.

  The others staggered out of the water and up onto the shore. One had noticed Zephira being dragged under but didn’t know what he could do to help. Chantalot had turned white with fear for her safety, but was unable to work out what to do. Belloe looked around shouting for everyone to answer their names so that he might account for the group. One native boy, Zephira and her construct were missing. What a disaster he thought. Not four hours into the trip and three lost already. What else could go wrong?

  He was still standing, watching the overturned boat drifting slowly down river, when the construct rose out of the water with Zephira in its arms and everybody cheered. She expected them to complain about the construct overturning the boat, but nobody seemed concerned. They had survived, that was the most important thing. The main problem now was to reclaim her and the boat.

  Belloe had a quick discussion with Gaston the wizard, who promptly waved his hands about, whispered arcane words and then flew from the shore over to Zephira and Goth and towed them back to the shore. While the levitate effect allowed Goth to go up or down, it didn’t allow it to go sideways.

  The wizard then flew across to the boat, landed on the hull and chatted with the captain, who promptly dived overboard and emerged with the bow rope. The wizard took it and headed for the shore, pulling to turn the bow in the direction he was flying. The group moved downstream along the shore to meet up with the wizard, and took over the job of hauling it in.

  After a good three hours of arguing, swearing and much straining they managed to turn the boat over, bail out the water and undertake an inspection to determine what was missing. Fortunately most of their gear was either stored in the small cabin or lashed to the sides of the boat with short lengths of rope. Several weapons lying on the deck, a considerable number of loose items of varied nature, including the fire stone used for cooking, most of the cooking and eating utensils and the wizard’s chair were gone. The small mast had broken off and the sail attached to it was lost.

  Another hour later they had cut a new mast, rigged it with a spare sail, and set off just as it was starting to get dark. It was now that they could take the time to reflect on the unfortunate loss of the teenage boy. It would be a hard job explaining to his family that he was gone, but this was the Mudrun jungle; old and young alike had to accept the risks if they went there.

  **

  Miranda led Aquitain to the lookout and stood pointing out features for a few minutes before leaving him sitting there alone. As she flew off towards the Jeti village she began to worry.

  ‘What if her mother sent Sanson and Allalanllea after him? He wouldn’t stand a chance against them. Perhaps it would have been safer if they’d walked to the Jeti village together. She was wondering whether she should turn back when Alpha asked if it could mindlink with her. She agreed, curious about what it wanted to say.

  ‘Hello Miranda, Aquitain is very fond of you.’

  ‘I was hoping that he was, as I am very fond of him as well,’ she replied.

  ‘Do you know that there is more to Aquitain’s quest than finding his father?’

  ‘I have already guessed that,’ she replied.

  ‘Do you know he has been trained all his life to carry out this quest? He has abilities that no other person alive has.’

  ‘What is your point?’ she asked.

  ‘His quest is very important as the lives of many depend on it, but it is also exceedingly dangerous, and parts of it can only be completed by him alone. If you were to accompany him you would endanger the both of you.’

  ‘Are you suggesting that I should not go with him?’ she asked.

  ‘Do you know why he didn’t tell you about the third condition for lifting your cursed tattoo as you call it?’

  ‘He gave me an explanation and I trust him.’

  ‘He can’t possibly fulfil his quest and complete the third condition. If he is to succeed in his quest then sooner or later he will have to decide between you and the quest. It would be much less painful if you left him after delivering the cat people’s treasure to them.’

  ‘How do you know this, Alpha?’ she shouted through the mindlink.

  ‘He has much knowledge about the quest hidden and locked in his mind. It is my job to unlock it when he needs it. It is important that he doesn’t know too much, as then he will worry and perhaps make the wrong decision at a critical time. Your mother might well have killed him today if I hadn’t helped him at a critical moment. When you and he are together you both lose perspective and make dangerous decisions. What will happen to his quest if either one of you is killed?’

  ‘I’ve heard enough from you, stone. Get out of my mind. I will stay with him until he tells me to go. No one, not you or anyone else will tell me otherwise. We shall succeed or fail together,’ and she opened a door in her mind, walked through it and closed off the mind link with Alpha.

  She was really annoyed about what Alpha had said, then recalled that almost everyone around herself and Aquitain had warned her off. Who would have reincarnated him if not for her? Then again, perhaps the assassin would not have found him except through her. No. She was determined to think positively. While he needed her then she would be there, and that was that!

  Before she knew it she had arrived at the Jeti little people’s village. She flew down behind the shaman’s hut and changed into her cat form and gave a large roar to indicate her presence. Then she padded out to the front of the hut and sat down. Kami the Jeti people’s shaman came racing out of his hut and began singing a welcome. Other purple-scaled Jeti people dropped whatever they were doing and came to join the singing. Miranda didn’t know the words but she could feel the magic in the song. It portrayed a feeling of peace and calm.

  The shaman stopped singing and the rest of the village also stopped. He gave an instruction to a young assistant who raced into the shaman’s hut and returned with a ceremonial loincloth that was laid on the ground in f
ront of Miranda. She changed shape to her newman form, took the loincloth and wrapped it around her body, then bowed to the shaman and then the villagers.

  ‘We are honoured that Miranda of the Druids has come to visit us,’ said Kami in the Mudrun common language.

  ‘On behalf of my people, I welcome you. May the strength of Jacintra give you courage and the light of the Lady of the Jungle always fall upon you!’

  Suddenly there was much talk among the villagers and they began pointing at her. She wondered what they were pointing at and turned to see and Kami saw the scars of the claw marks across her back had turned silver and were glowing.

  ‘Ah, we are doubly honoured today, Miranda the Fiery One has been made cat friend by Jacintra herself,’ and they all burst into a song that she had never heard before. It was another welcome song, but this time it was of praise for her courage and strength. This time the magic of the song was exhilarating. It uplifted her and she felt as if she were a great heroine. They sang for a good five minutes, then Kami held up his hand and they stopped. He gave them some instructions and they all departed.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she said a little surprised.

  ‘The village will prepare a feast for tonight so that you can tell us what happened to our family to the east.’

  ‘I am the bearer of sad news Kami. Your clan to the east is no more.’

  ‘I feared as much. I have not heard from them for more than a week, and I dreamed last night that you and another had helped their passage. I have feared telling my people for their grief will be terrible, but the fact that Jacintra has honoured you will help greatly.’

  ‘Why then are you having a feast to tell them sad news?’ asked Miranda.

  ‘It is a celebration to honour you and your friend for helping their passing to the spirit world.’

  ‘Oh. All right! I am honoured. I wish to ask a favour of you Kami. The other person that was with me is waiting for a message from me, and he will come here. I told him that you could send up some coloured smoke as a signal to come.’