Beyond the Draak’s Teeth

by Marcia J. Bennett

  “Well?” Gringers pressed. “Do you want to live the rest of your life as a slave?”

  Bhaldavin turned to face Gringers. “No. I want my freedom. Tell me what I must do to earn it.”

  “Just come with us and protect us from any draak we meet. It’s all we ask of you.”

  “How long must I stay with you?”

  Gringers glanced at Theon, then back to Bhaldavin. “Until we find what we’re looking for.”

  “Barl-gan?”

  Gringers nodded.

  “And then I’ll be free to leave you.”

  “Yes, if you want to.”

  “Have you made any plans for returning to Amla-Bagor?”

  “We’ve discussed it,” Gringers answered evasively, “but due to the time we’ll be crossing the Draak’s Teeth, we’ll probably have to spend the cold passage on the other side of the mountains, unless we can find Barl-gan quickly and can return over the mountains before the weather prevents us.”

  “Well, Little Fish, do you join us on our quest?” Theon asked. “If we find what we hope to find, we’ll see that you are handsomely rewarded.”

  At Theon’s mention of a reward, Bhaldavin’s thoughts centered on Diak’s crystal. He remembered the touch of the fire stone, and suddenly he ached to hold it again, to delve into those hidden passages he had glimpsed while one with the crystal, to touch again that awareness that had greeted him as a long-lost child, that promised him a kind of friendship that none but a few ever experienced.

  He turned to Gringers. “I accept your offer of freedom as partial payment for my services as a draak singer.”

  Gringers frowned. “What else do you want?”

  “The crystal in Diak’s box.”

  Gringers shook his head. “It’s not mine to give.”

  “If you want my help,” Bhaldavin said firmly, “you’ll convince Diak to relinquish the crystal.”

  Theon released a deep sigh. “Gringers, I’m afraid that Garv’s Little Fish is growing up. If we aren’t careful, he’s going to end up owning us!”

  Chapter 15

  BHALDAVIN KNEW NOTHING ABOUT SPIDERMOSS AND WAS startled the first time he saw the huge sarian spider; its body alone was the size of his fist. Theon was no less startled, but managed to hide it behind a scowl as Samsel caught one of the large arachnids and brought it close for their inspection.

  “Are you sure it’s nonpoisonous?” Theon asked, keeping a wary eye on the spider.

  “I’m sure,” Samsel said, holding the spider up by one furry leg. “It depends upon the tree thorns to protect it from its enemies, which are mostly birds and lizards.”

  Samsel pushed the spider close to Bhaldavin’s ear. “Listen,” he laughed. “Hear it sound? All hiss and no strike.”

  Bhaldavin leaned away from the faceted green eyes, which seemed to be glaring at him, and wished the boy would stop playing with the ugly creature.

  The spider finally twisted free and dropped to the ground.

  “Get that out of here,” Theon yelled as it started to crawl toward his legs.

  Samsel grinned as he retrieved the spider. “It won’t hurt you.”

  “I don’t care if it will or not. Just get it out of here!”

  Ysal, who was in the branches of a nearby tree, dropped another clump of moss. “Let it go, Samsel, and get back to work.”

  Samsel made a face at Ysal, but did as he was told, placing the spider on the trunk of a tree that had already been stripped of its moss. Relieved, Bhaldavin and Theon watched the furry spider scramble up out of sight, then returned to work.

  Before spidermoss could be laid out and rolled, it had to be cleaned of all the leaves and insects caught inside the tangled threads. It was painstaking work, but it had to be done. No one was exempt from the work up to and including Seevan, though most of the men spent a good part of their working hours high in the branches of the trees where their experienced hands were required to extract the silver-gray moss from the thorny branches without tearing it to pieces.

  Those not directly involved with collecting spidermoss spent their time either cleaning the moss or fishing and gathering mollusks from the shallows to help supplement their meals. The preparation of food also became a joint effort, and the cooking fires moved from island to island following the pickers.

  Samsel picked up the clump of moss Ysal had dropped and gave it to Bhaldavin, then went in search for more. Bhaldavin was able to work one-handed by holding the clump on his lap, part of it caught between his knees.

  Bhaldavin heard Theon swear under his breath. He looked up to see the small man sucking a finger.

  “Damn thorns!” Theon muttered. “You know, Little Fish, there are moments when I wonder if I haven’t lost my mind. How I ever let Gringers talk me into going on some crazy hunt for a lost city, I’ll never know. Right now I’m thinking about Fisherman’s Landing, and what I’d be doing if I was there. It’s strange, but sometimes I even think that if I went back, I’d find Garv alive. Sometimes I think—maybe he didn’t die that night. Maybe Gringers made a mistake, and somehow Garv is still alive.” He looked out through the trees to the lake. “When I get to thinking like that, I want to jump into the nearest boat and start paddling.” He paused. “Of course, I’d never make it back alone.”

  Bhaldavin felt sorry for Theon, who had yet to find acceptance among the rafters. The man was tolerated because of Gringers, but he was not really welcome—and he knew it.

  “Have you thought what you’ll do if and when Gringers finds Barl-gan?” he asked, trying to get Theon’s mind off Fisherman’s Landing.

  “I’ve thought about it, but can’t get past the fact that once over the mountains, we’ll have to find a way back.” He looked up at the craggy peaks. “And I don’t relish the thought of climbing those mountains twice.”

  “Perhaps there is a way around them?”

  “It’s possible, I suppose. I just hope that when we find Barl-gan, we find someone still living there. I’m tired of swamps, rivers, and wilderness. Personally, I’d like to see a little civilization again!”

  Bhaldavin looked up at the mountains, a new thought stirring. “Theon, do you think there’s a chance some of my people might live on the other side of the mountains?”

  “I don’t know why not. Gives us both something to think about, doesn’t it?”

  It was long after the supper hour. The last of the gather of spidermoss had been rolled and put away. The walls of every cabin were lined with upright bundles of moss lashed in place. Weeks had passed since their arrival on the Moss Islands, and Seevan was pleased that the harvesting had gone so smoothly. Soon it would be time to begin the trek back to Lake Arden where the moss would be spun and repacked for shipment to Natrob.

  Bhaldavin sat quietly looking out over the water. It was dark, but the western skyline was still visible. The air off the water was cool and fresh, and after a long day of working under the twin suns, it felt good just to sit and relax. Most of the rafters were already abed.

  He shifted around and heard the clink of his chain. The thought of escape, uppermost in his mind for so long, was countered by the knowledge that he was far from his homeland. Months of travel separated him from Fisherman’s Landing, and to get from there to the Deep, he would have to cross the Enzaar Sea. He brushed the stump of his arm and felt despair eat into his heart. How far could he paddle with only one arm? Not far, and surely not fast enough to outrun the boats Seevan and Gringers would send after him.

  He looked again to the horizon and realized that he would never be able to make it back to the Deep alone. He had come too far, and so much time had passed. Was it possible that his brother, Dhalvad, had survived? He shook his head, worried that he might never know the answer to that question.

  Someone approached from behind. “Bhaldavin? May I join you?”

  Thoughts of his brother faded as he turned and held out his hand. “Please, Lil-el, I would like that.”

  She sat down close to him. “Tired?”
she asked softly.

  “Yes. It was a long day.”

  “Seevan sets a steady pace. Another three or four days and we should be done with the harvesting.”

  He glanced at the mountains behind Lil-el. Yes, he thought, the harvesting will be done, and you will go one way, I another, and only the wind knows if we’ll ever meet again.

  “I love you, Bhaldavin.”

  The softly spoken words sent shivers down Bhaldavin’s spine. An aching sense of loss brought tears to his eyes, and he couldn’t speak. Part of him wanted to reach out and hold Lil-el, to tell her that he returned her love, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her; but another part of him longed for the peace of mind that for him would come only with freedom.

  He hated the thought of leaving her behind, but couldn’t see himself staying with the rafters for the rest of his life. If I do stay, he thought, some day I’ll blame her for my loss of freedom, and that I don’t want.

  Bhaldavin could feel Lil-el’s glance and was glad of the darkness. He didn’t realize that his tears reflected the lantern light, giving him away.

  “When do you and Gringers leave us, my love?” Lil-el asked, surprising him.

  “You know?” he cried softly. “How?”

  “Gringers.”

  Bhaldavin was shocked. “He told you his plans?”

  “He didn’t have to. I’ve been watching him closely for several weeks, ever since I saw him pilfering from the food stores. Just last week I found him cutting boot patterns out of an old pair of draakhide pants. Judging from the three-layer soles he was sewing together, it looked like he was planning to do some rigorous climbing. When I told him that, he said no and claimed that he was just getting tired of going barefoot. One look at the size of the boot, and I knew he wasn’t making them for himself. They were far too small for him—more your size, I think.”

  “Does he know you know about his plans?”

  “I’m sure he suspects.”

  “And he trusts you not to say anything to anyone?”

  “Gringers and I have been friends a long time, Bhaldavin. We played together as children. He knows I wouldn’t betray him.”

  She hesitated, then continued. “Gringers is a very special kind of man, Bhaldavin. If he had been born a Ni, I believe he would have been a Seeker, for there is an inner strength in him, a power that draws people to trust him. Seevan sensed Gringers’s special quality years ago, and for some reason he saw it as a threat to his own standing among the rafters. I think he may have feared that Gringers would oust him from his position before he was ready to give up his leadership.

  “To this day I don’t think Gringers understands exactly what happened between himself and his uncle. Until the age of fifteen, Seevan loved Gringers as a son, then suddenly nothing Gringers did was right. He tried his best to please Seevan, but it only made things worse. Seevan started to call him names and belittle him in every way possible; then Gringers would get mad and do something foolish, giving Seevan cause to punish him. It was no wonder that Gringers finally turned to someone else for understanding.”

  “Diak?”

  “Yes. The old man offered Gringers a place where he could be himself, where no one would holler at him or punish him without just cause. The two soon became inseparable, and in time, Diak discovered that he had found a kindred spirit when it came to dreaming big dreams. I can still remember the first time Gringers told me about Barl-gan. He was not yet a man, but already he was making plans to go adventuring with Diak.”

  She glanced up at the mountains and released a deep sigh. “They’ve been dreaming of climbing the Draak’s Teeth for years. I think the time for them has come. They’ll do it—or die trying.” She turned back to him. “My only regret is that they are going to drag you along with them.”

  “I must go, Lil-el. I have no choice.”

  “I know what they look for beyond the mountains, Bhaldavin, but what is it you hope to find there?”

  “Freedom,” he said, careful that his voice not carry to the guard atop the nearby cabin roof.

  “I thought as much. And is that all they offered you?”

  “Theon spoke about a reward when they reached Barl-gan, but I haven’t any faith in his promises. I told Gringers that I would go with him for my freedom and the fire stone Diak carries.”

  “What did Gringers say?”

  “At first he said no, then he said he’d think about it. Two days ago he said he had talked with Diak and the old man had agreed to give me the crystal when we reached Barl-gan.” He hesitated. “Do you think they will?”

  Lil-el thought a moment. “Gringers will keep his word. The other two, I’m not so sure. A lot might depend upon what you find in Barl-gan—if you find it at all.”

  Someone approached. The creaking of the wooden ramps that led from raft to raft seemed loud in the still night air.

  “Lil-el, your turn for watch.”

  Lil-el turned at the sound of her father’s voice. “Coming.”

  “Bhaldavin?” Di-nel said, pausing at the cabin door. - “Yes.”

  “Best get some sleep. You’re on watch after Lil-el.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Who is supposed to walk your rounds with you tonight?”

  “Rafer.”

  The guard stationed atop Di-nel’s cabin wished him a good night. Di-nel thanked him and went inside.

  Bhaldavin caught Lil-el’s hand as she started to rise. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I wish there was some way I could stay here with you. If things were different, I—”

  She leaned down and kissed him, her lips shutting off his words. When she stood up, she squeezed his hand. “Bhaldavin, do you love me?”

  “More than I have ever loved anyone, but—”

  “No buts, Bhaldavin. It’s enough that I know. You haven’t said when you’re leaving. Do you know when?”

  “No.”

  “Well, good night then. I’ll see you in the morning.” He watched Lil-el disappear into the darkness, sick with the knowledge that his last word to her had been a lie.

  It was the first hour of morning. All was quiet. The darkness was broken only by the four watch lanterns placed at each corner of the interlocked rafts.

  Bhaldavin quietly followed Gringers over the narrow board bridges linking raft to raft and stopped in the shadow of the last cabin on the north side of the Homeraft. There were three boats moored alongside the raft.

  Gringers had freed Bhaldavin from his leg chain after quietly disposing of the guard atop Di-nel’s cabin. The guard would have a terrible headache come morning.

  Gringers thrust a bundle at Bhaldavin and told him to follow. When they reached the boats, Gringers quickly loaded the bundles in the middle boat and directed Bhaldavin to get in. “Hurry,” he whispered. “Lil-el will be headed back this way soon.”

  “Where’s Theon?” Bhaldavin asked, taking his place.

  Gringers pushed off. “He’s with Hallon and Diak and the rest of our supplies. There was no way we could do it in one trip.”

  Bhaldavin looked back as the boat slid quietly away from the Ardenol Homeraft. As the darkness swallowed them, a solitary figure passed the northern watch lantern and paused at the place where, only moments ago, their boat had been moored. The figure gazed down at the water, then looked out into the darkness beyond the raft.

  Bhaldavin realized that Lil-el was too keen-eyed to miss the telltale ripples on the water. If she thinks the ripples were caused by a draak, she’ll start singing, he thought.

  Seconds passed. Gringers’s paddle dipped soundlessly in and out of the water carrying them farther and farther away from the raft. Lil-el stood quietly, listening.

  She knows, Bhaldavin thought. She knows. He looked at Gringers, his heart thundering in his ears. Stop! Go back! She knows we’ve gone! The words formed in his mind, but never reached his lips; then it was too late. Lil-el was moving again, continuing her rounds.

  Bhaldavin’s hand tightened on the
gunwhale as she disappeared beyond a cabin wall, for in that moment he realized how much he loved her. I could still go back. All I have to do is stand up, dive over the side, and swim. Gringers couldn’t stop me, not without turning back himself, and how would he explain his nightly excursion and the absence of Theon and Hallon?

  “Safe away! I don’t think Lil-el saw us,” Gringers whispered. “Well, Bhaldavin, we’re finally on our way. How does it feel to be free?”

  Bhaldavin turned and faced forward. I’m free, free as long as I don’t return to the rafters. But Lil-el is there and I love her.

  “Bhaldavin? Everything all right?”

  “Yes. Fine.”

  Gringers was quiet for a moment. “You love her, don’t you?” he said finally.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  It took Gringers over an hour to find the place where he had left Hallon, Diak, and Theon. The small campfire Hallon tended guided the boat to the rocky shore. Theon and Hallon met them at the water’s edge and helped bring the boat up out of the water.

  “Any trouble?” Hallon asked as they started toward the campfire.

  “No,” Gringers responded. “Everything went fine. Have you got everything packed and ready to go?”

  “Almost. Diak has some tea brewing. Want a cup?”

  “Sure. Why don’t you and Theon see to hiding the boat. Diak and I can finish with the packs. I want to get as far up into the mountains as we can by daylight. If and when Seevan finds our camp, we should be out of reach. I doubt he’ll waste much time trying to come after us. He’s known me too long not to know where we’re headed.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Hallon said. “I don’t relish the thought of Seevan catching up with us and dragging us back like errant children.”

  “Don’t worry. All he’ll be thinking is good riddance.”

  Bhaldavin was offered a cup of tea and several fire-warmed rolls filled with thick drenberry jam. He ate what was given him, suspecting that he would need every bit of strength at his command. He had never climbed a mountain before, and the Draak’s Teeth were not what he would have chosen for a first experience. As he ate, he listened to Diak’s stories of his earlier climbs into the mountains, which described the kinds of obstacles they would face, such as rock slides; sheer cliffs of rock, snow, and ice; thin air; and very cold temperatures.