Beyond the Draak’s Teeth

by Marcia J. Bennett

  Diak looked up, tears tracking his face. “It shouldn’t have ended like this, Bhaldavin. I had such dreams.”

  Bhaldavin sat down beside the old man. “Among the People it’s said that dreams are growing seed, that without them we would be no more than a tree or a draak.”

  Diak wiped at his tears. “But it was my dream that killed Hallon—maybe all of us. I had no right to force it on all of you.”

  “I didn’t see much forcing,” Bhaldavin said gently. “Some dream for themselves. Some dream for others. To share another’s dream is not always a sacrifice.”

  Diak glanced at Hallon’s body. “Even when it kills you?”

  “Even then.”

  Diak looked at Bhaldavin; he drew a shuddering breath and released it slowly. “You’ve changed, Bhaldavin. You’ve grown patient and wise these past few weeks. And I don’t think you hate us anymore, do you?”

  “I don’t know that I ever really hated you, any of you. I just didn’t understand you. And I was angry for a long time. All I could think about was my freedom.”

  Diak’s glance dropped. “Freedom that we all denied you for our own special interests.” He looked up. “I wish I had it all to do over again.”

  “I doubt you would do any differently, Diak. To deny one’s dream is to cease to care, and not to care is not to live.”

  They came for Diak a short time later. He went quietly, without protest. As Bhaldavin helped him to his feet, Diak embraced him. “Until we meet again, my friend.”

  Bhaldavin remained standing until the door closed behind Diak and his escort; then he went to the couch and lay down, facing away from Hallon’s body. He meant to stay awake, to try to form some plan that might gain him freedom, but sleep gradually stole upon him, banishing the spectre of death that seemed to lurk in every corner of the empty city.

  Darkness greeted him upon waking, and for long moments he just lay quietly, remembering where he was and what had happened. Standing, he moved toward the wall near the door and felt around until he found the shoulder-high depressions; he pressed and the light panels above were turned on.

  He glanced around the room. Hallon’s body was gone, as were Theon’s pile of clothes. How long had he been sleeping? he wondered. Why hadn’t they returned for him? Perhaps they didn’t perceive him as a threat. Or perhaps they just hadn’t finished with the old man.

  He returned to the couch. Hallon is dead, he thought, but what about the others? Had Barl-et-Bara ordered them all killed after he had finished talking to them? Or were they still alive somewhere in the building?

  Time passed.

  He got up and tried the door for the fifth time, then turned and paced restlessly around the room. He was growing hungry, and nature was making other demands upon him. He held out as long as he could, then used one of the corners of the room to relieve himself.

  He returned to the couch and gathered up the cards he had been studying. With nothing else to do, he began to lay them out.

  A small clicking noise startled him. He turned as the door swung open. Barl-et-Bara stood there, their upper bodies filling the doorway.

  Bhaldavin rose and backed away, letting the cards fall from his hand. He glanced beyond the twins, but the hall was empty. His heartbeat quickened as the lords of Barl-gan approached.

  Barl saw Bhaldavin’s fear and smiled wickedly. He signaled with his hand. “Come, it’s your turn now, Green Hair.”

  Bara rubbed at sleep-laden eyes. “Stop it, Barl. You’re scaring him.”

  “Shut up and go back to sleep,” Barl snapped at his brother.

  “Why don’t we both go back to sleep? This can wait until tomorrow.”

  “I did sleep. While you were talking to that old fossil. He had you mesmerized with his stories about the men who live on the other side of the mountains. I didn’t think he’d ever run down.”

  “You should’ve stayed awake and listened to him. You might have learned something.”

  “The Wastelanders have nothing to teach us,” Barl said scornfully. “They’re ignorant. Little better than the wolves and lizards that scavenge the land.”

  “They are not Wastelanders.”

  “You’re a fool if you believe that. You with your studies and dreams about the stars. You know as well as I that no one is ever going to come back to rescue us. There are no truths in the old prophecies. They are all lies.”

  “You speak blasphemy. The gods will return one day and—”

  “No!” Barl roared. “There are no gods. There never were. It’s time you opened your eyes and faced reality. Barl-gan is dying. We are the last leaders it shall ever have. There is no future for us. The Wastelanders will come here someday, and no one will be left to deny them our possessions. All that we have will be theirs. Everything!”

  Bara shook his head. “You’re wrong, Barl. Diak says there are other men in the world, men who’ll take over after we’re gone, if we can persuade them to come here. And as for the prophecies, tomorrow he is going to show us a gift from the First Men, those who built Barl-gan. He says it shows pictures of the ship that brought them here. It will prove that—”

  “That the First Men were gods. Then we too must be gods, for we are their descendants.” Barl’s booming laugh filled the room. “And if we are gods, then Barl-gan must be heaven. Heaven! Where death and sickness reign supreme.”

  Barl’s laughter was filled with the sound of madness, and it sent shivers coursing down Bhaldavin’s spine. Slowly he edged along the wall away from the twins. The open door beckoned.

  Barl caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. His argument with his brother forgotten, he lunged just as Bhaldavin made a run for the open doorway. He caught Bhaldavin around the waist and swung halfway around, almost losing his balance. But Bara put out his hands and braced himself on the back of the couch.

  Bhaldavin tried to twist free.

  “Grab his legs!” Barl shouted at his brother.

  “You have two arms and are bigger than he is. You don’t need my help,” Bara retorted, ducking to avoid Bhaldavin’s fist.

  “Bara!”

  “No!”

  Barl swore and readjusted his hold, one hand going to Bhaldavin’s throat. A few seconds later, Bhaldavin was gasping for breath. He tore at the bony fingers choking him, but he was no match for Barl’s strength.

  “Stop it, Barl. You’ll kill him,” Bara shouted.

  “Shut up!”

  “Stop! I’ll help you. Damn it, I said I’d help you. Let him go.”

  The fingers at Bhaldavin’s throat loosened, and air rushed into his lungs. The darkness that had threatened to engulf him gradually receded, and he became aware of his surroundings once more. He was being carried through the doorway and down the hall.

  He licked at dry lips and tried to speak. His voice sounded raspy. “Where are you taking me?”

  Barl stared straight ahead, his lips grim. “To be examined,” he said crisply, “as were the others.” He let Bhaldavin down. “You can walk the rest of the way.”

  They came to a set of unlighted stairs leading down. Barl guided Bhaldavin down the steps, keeping a hand at the back of his neck. There was a landing and a door halfway down the stairs. Barl leaned over Bhaldavin’s shoulder and opened the door. A touch on the wall, and the room beyond was lighted.

  Someone rose from the floor at the far end of the room.

  It was Birdfoot, looking surprised and blinking sleep from his eyes. He glanced at Bhaldavin as Barl-et-Bara led him to a long, low table in the center of the room.

  “Is all well with the prisoners?” Barl-et-Bara asked Birdfoot.

  Birdfoot nodded.

  “Good. We have one more for you to look after. I know it’s early, but go and fetch Kelsan. We’ll prepare this one while you’re gone.”

  Bhaldavin looked at the door Birdfoot had been guarding, relieved to learn that the others still lived. They had to be the prisoners to which Barl-et-Bara had referred.


  Gils Watcher left, taking the stairs two at a time.

  Bhaldavin eyed the table warily, liking neither the leather straps that lay folded nearly across it nor the strange metal armlike things that hung over it.

  “Undress.”

  Bhaldavin flinched at Barl’s command, a bubble of fear rising to choke him. What were they going to do to him? He faced Barl-et-Bara, his glance going from one face to the other. Barl’s look was stern, Bara’s sympathetic.

  Bara nodded encouragement. “Do as you are told. You will not be harmed.”

  Bhaldavin began to undress, knowing he had no choice. Barl grew impatient with his awkwardness in removing his clothes and stepped forward to help.

  Moments later Bhaldavin stood stripped of everything but his boots. Barl pushed him back onto the table.

  “See to his boots,” Barl ordered.

  Bara frowned at his brother, but did as he was told.

  Bhaldavin tried to speak as Barl began strapping him down on the table, but his mouth was dry and he couldn’t get the words out.

  Barl took delight in the fear reflected on Bhaldavin’s face. When he had finished with the straps, he put a hand on Bhaldavin’s chest and stroked down the length of his body, his strong blunt fingers probing muscles and sensitive places.

  “Don’t, Barl!” Bara snapped. “He’s afraid!”

  Bara smiled maliciously. “I can see that. He thinks we mean to kill him.” He reached over and touched the stump of Bhaldavin’s arm. “Or perhaps it’s further mutilation he’s afraid of. Is that it, Green Hair? How did you lose your arm? Whoever did it did a good job, you know. Almost as good a job as Kelsan could do.”

  He leaned over Bhaldavin. “You look rather lopsided with only one arm. Perhaps you’d like us to cut off the other one and return your body to a more symmetrical design?”

  “Don’t listen to him, Bhaldavin,” Bara said. “No one is going to hurt you. All we want to do is examine you, to see if you’re healthy and—virile. We have need of—”

  “Silence!” Barl growled, turning on his brother. “Our needs do not concern him—at least at the moment.”

  Barl-et-Bara turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

  “I thought this one was to wait until morning,” Kelsan said, coming into the room with Birdfoot.

  “It could’ve as far as I’m concerned,” Bara said disgustedly. “But Barl woke up and was restless. He—”

  “Never mind about me,” Barl said. “Just get on with the examination. We’ll await your report in our room. Bring him to us when you’re finished.”

  Kelsan waited until Barl-et-Bara left the room before beginning the examination. When he saw the straps holding Bhaldavin down, he muttered something under his breath and loosened them a bit. “Better?”

  Bhaldavin cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “You are to be examined. Relax. It won’t take long. I’ll explain everything I’m doing so you’ll understand and cooperate.”

  Kelsan was true to his word. The examination didn’t take long, but several of the procedures he carried out were painful, and Bhaldavin shivered with relief as Bird-foot released him from the straps and helped him sit up.

  Kelsan looked at his grandson as he gathered up the samples he had taken. “Take him to Barl-et-Bara and stay with him. I’ll find someone to take your place here.”

  Birdfoot nodded and assisted Bhaldavin in dressing; then he led him toward the stairs.

  Bhaldavin kept track of the number of halls and stairways they passed, thinking that if he escaped and had to find his way back to the place where his friends were being held, he could do so quickly and surely.

  When they reached Barl-et-Bara’s room, Birdfoot knocked on the door and entered, pulling Bhaldavin along in his wake. The room was deeply shadowed. The only light in the room came from a strange round globe sitting on a bedside table. Floor-to-ceiling draperies covered most of the walls.

  The twins were in bed. Barl lifted a hand and signaled Birdfoot to bring Bhaldavin forward.

  Bhaldavin’s heart beat faster as he came to a stop next to the huge bed. He looked beyond Barl, who was watching him intently, and saw that Bara was fast asleep.

  Barl reached out and caught Bhaldavin’s wrist. His fingers tightened as Bhaldavin tried to draw back.

  “Your eyes betray you, Green Hair,” Barl said. “Why do you fear me and not my brother?”

  Bhaldavin winced as Barl tightened his hold.

  “Is it my voice that frightens you? Surely it can’t be my face, because we are the same.”

  Bhaldavin glanced at Bara.

  “Don’t look to him for protection.” Barl’s fingers squeezed, grinding wrist bones. Bhaldavin gasped in pain and fell to his knees, trying to relieve the pressure on his wrist.

  “Do you know what I am called by the people of Barl-gan?” Barl said softly.

  Bhaldavin shook his head.

  “Ah, a response. Good.” Barl smiled. “I’m called Lord Death, Green Hair, because I decide who lives and who dies. Bara is too weak to make such decisions; he will have no part of it. So it’s left to me. When one is born, or when one comes to us from the Wastelands, they are brought to me. If they are reasonably whole and useful, they live.” He glanced at Bhaldavin’s armless sleeve. “If they are badly deformed and unable to be of service, they die. Which will it be for you? I wonder.”

  Barl released Bhaldavin’s wrist. Bhaldavin closed his eyes in relief and tried to breathe normally.

  “Look at me.”

  Bhaldavin looked up, wondering if each of his friends had been subjected to a similar ordeal.

  “I’m going to ask you a question,” Barl said. “Lie to me, and you will die a second later. Tell the truth, and you will live.”

  Birdfoot caught a handful of Bhaldavin’s hair and tilted his head back, exposing his throat. Bhaldavin flinched at the touch of cold metal at the base of his throat.

  “Do you understand?” Barl asked softly, smiling.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. This then is the question. Are you or are you not able to control the great lizards that infest this world?”

  Lizards? The trader word was new to him, but he realized that Barl had to be speaking about draak. “I can sing draak, yes.”

  “Draak. Yes, that is what Lil-el called them. And would you sing these draak for me, for the protection of Barl-gan?”

  “I would do it, but not willingly.”

  “So. You would serve us, but not willingly. The other Green Hair said much the same. She also told me that she was mated—to you, I assume?”

  Bhaldavin hesitated, then nodded.

  Barl looked down at his hands and toyed with the ring on one of his fingers. When he looked up, his steady, unblinking stare made Bhaldavin think of a snake before it strikes.

  “There is only one woman of childbearing age among us now. I wonder, would you consider sharing your mate with us—for the betterment of Barl-gan? We could, of course, take her without your permission. Still, it is polite to ask.”

  The enormity of the request filled Bhaldavin with such rage that he forgot the knife at his throat and launched himself at Barl. A painful jerk on his head caught him off-balance. Birdfoot brought the hilt of his knife up and struck Bhaldavin on the back of his head.

  Chapter 25

  BHALDAVIN WOKE TO A SUDDEN GLARE OF LIGHT. HE opened his eyes, then shut them quickly. He rolled over and sat up; his head ached, and for a moment or two he thought he was going to be sick.

  “Bhaldavin.”

  He turned at the sound of the voice. “Diak?”

  “Yes.”

  He pushed to his feet as Diak shuffled into the room. He avoided looking up at the light panels overhead and quickly inspected the room; it was small, empty, and had no windows. It also had a musty odor, and there was a noticeable layer of dust on the floor.

  “Where are we?” Bhaldavin asked.

  The old man
put out a shaky hand and caught at Bhaldavin’s tunic. “Never mind. Come,” he said urgently. “We must find the others.”

  “How did you find me?” Bhaldavin asked as he followed Diak out of the room.

  “Not easily,” the old man chuckled. Suddenly he began coughing deep, racking coughs that frightened Bhaldavin.

  “Are you all right?”

  The old man wiped at the spittle on his lips and nodded. “Just tired, Bhaldavin, but there’s no time for rest. Not now. We must find the others and free them. Bara fears for their lives.”

  “Bara?”

  Diak started down the hallway checking each door they came to. “I spent a lot of time with Barl-et-Bara yesterday and this morning. I told them about the world beyond the mountains, and just a little while ago I showed them how the life recorder works. Bara was excited about it and wanted to see more of the pictures, but Barl wouldn’t let him. He took the box from me and swore it was all a Wastelander trick, a way to take by guile what they’d been unable to take by force. Bara tried to argue with him. Barl told him to be quiet or he’d order me killed.”

  Bhaldavin glanced down the hallway ahead of them, fearing to see Birdfoot suddenly appear. “How did you get away?”

  Diak looked at Bhaldavin and smiled. “Barl touched the crystal with his bare hand. I forgot to warn him. It gave him quite a jolt. Bara even felt it, but he recovered more quickly than Barl. While his brother was unconscious, Bara told me how to leave their rooms without alerting the guard; then he told me to find my friends and leave Barl-gan as quickly as possible. He was sure Barl meant to have several of us put to death.”

  “Did Bara say anything to you about Lil-el?”

  “No. Why?”

  Bhaldavin quickly told Diak about his interview with Barl and his fears for her safety.

  “We must find her quickly, and the others, before Barl calls for them again,” Diak said.

  There were so many rooms off the hall that Bhaldavin and Diak split up, each taking a side of the hall. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the placement of prisoners. Diak found Gringers first, and with his help they soon located Theon.