Beyond the Draak’s Teeth

by Marcia J. Bennett

  Gringers opened the door, took a quick look into the hall, and stepped back, allowing Kelsan to enter the room. Bhaldavin relocked the door as Gringers checked Kelsan for weapons.

  “All right,” Gringers said. “What do you want?”

  “Lord Bara has sent me to ask you to come to his room.” Kelsan glanced around. “All of you.”

  “Why?”

  Kelsan straightened up as much as possible. “Lord Bara is dying. He wishes to talk to you—about the future of Barl-gan and its people. ”

  “And us? Are we included in this future?” Gringers demanded.

  “I would say yes, though my lord Bara did not confide in me.”

  “You want us to leave this room, go downstairs, and talk to Lord Bara, whom you say is dying. How do we know we’re not being led into some kind of trap?”

  “I’m here to act as a hostage. If anyone attacks you, you may kill me first.”

  Gringers hesitated only a second or two, his glance going to Theon. “All right. We’ll come, if someone will see to my friend’s wounds.”

  “May I look?”

  Gringers nodded. Kelsan crossed the room and knelt beside Theon, who had fallen into fitful sleep.

  “He needs attention quickly,” Kelsan said, rising a moment or two later. “Can you carry him?”

  “Yes.”

  “It would be best if you all come together.” Kelsan glanced at the bed. “Wake the old one, and we’ll go.”

  Gringers passed Kelsan and bent to pick up Theon. Theon moaned softly as Gringers readjusted him in his arms. “Unlock the door, Bhaldavin. You and Lil-el walk beside Kelsan and see that he doesn’t try to escape.”

  Kelsan again looked at Diak’s still form on the bed.

  Gringers headed for the door. “He’s dead,” he said softly.

  Gringers, Lil-el, and Bhaldavin sat in chairs next to Lord Bara’s bed. Theon lay behind them on a low pallet, his wounds cleaned and carefully bandaged, his eyes closed in sleep.

  Kelsan and his grandson, Birdfoot, stood at the foot of Lord Bara’s bed. Birdfoot’s arm was cradled in a shoulder sling.

  Lord Bara’s glance touched upon each of them. His face was pale, but his dark eyes glittered with his fight for life. A heavy red coverlet lay across Barl’s upper body and head. Bara’s glance strayed to his dead brother. He turned away and drew the sheet up higher over his bared chest.

  Eyes downcast, he began. “I’m sorry that things happened as they did. I want to apologize to all of you for my brother—and myself. To you first, Lil-el, because I was weak and because I wanted you as much as Barl did. I knew what we were doing was wrong—but I couldn’t stop us.”

  He looked up and reached out a hand to her. “I beg your forgiveness. I don’t want to die with you hating me.”

  Lil-el glanced at Bhaldavin, then took Bara’s hand. “There’s no hate between us, Lord Bara, not anymore.”

  He squeezed her hand and let it go. He looked at Gringers, Bhaldavin, and then down at the pallet where Theon lay. “And to the rest of you, I also extend apologies. You were not treated as proper guests. I gave in to Barl’s mistrust and let him have his way with you, even though I knew you gave us nothing but the truth.”

  Bara’s glance fastened on Gringers. “I regret Diak’s passing. I so enjoyed the hours we spent talking, and I had so much more to say to him, things that now must be said to you, if you’ll listen.”

  Gringers glanced at Kelsan and Birdfoot. “We’ll listen, but before you go any further, I want to know if we’re free to leave Barl-gan in peace when we are finished here.”

  Lord Bara looked at Kelsan. “They are free to go— or stay if they wish.”

  Kelsan nodded.

  Lord Bara held out a hand. “Give me the box, Kelsan.”

  Kelsan went to a nearby table, picked up Diak’s magic box, and returned to hand it to Lord Bara.

  “This belongs to you,” Bara said, passing the box to Gringers. “You and Diak were right in believing that it came from Barl-gan. I’ve seen only a small portion of the living pictures it contains, but in those scenes I recognized certain places in the city as they must have looked when Barl-gan was new. Whoever took this unusual machine from here must have departed long, long ago. For what reason, we shall probably never know. Perhaps he was unhappy with the way Barl-gan was being ruled; or perhaps he was just restless and wanted to see more of this world. There’s also the possibility that he was sent out to find other places where men could live without being threatened by the huge lizards that infest this world.

  “In the oldest of our written records, there is mention of such expeditions. One went north overland; another went east by ship through the Niev chain of lakes. If anyone ever tried to climb the escarpment, that which we call the Western Wall, it was never set down.”

  “The Sarissa claim to have come to the Enzaar Sea by ship,” Gringers offered.

  “Some of our people, probably,” Bara said. “One wonders why they never tried to return. Perhaps the passage was too difficult to attempt more than once.”

  “They’re an arrogant lot,” Gringers said. “It would be my guess that once they founded Annaroth, their own city, they decided to keep what they’d found for themselves.”

  Gringers glanced at Kelsan, then back to Bara. “Tell me, ever since we came here, Barl insisted upon calling us Wastelanders. Who are they? Another lost expedition?”

  Lord Bara took a deep breath and released it slowly. He looked tired.

  “No,” he answered. “Some are, or were, common criminals; others are simple wanderers. But the majority of them are the descendants of citizens of Barl-gan, people who fled the sickness that purged the city hundreds of years ago and left her as you see her today. Our numbers have dwindled rapidly since the sickness. The inbreeding has become so bad that in the last two hundred years, three-quarters of the children born are sterile, and many are deformed either physically or mentally.

  “Looking at you, Gringers, I know now what we should be and how far we’ve strayed from our original design. Kelsan has told me that new blood is all that will save us from extinction, but even now I think it may be too late. There are so few of us left.”

  He paused. “Do you think it possible to bring more of your people here to Barl-gan, to help us keep the city alive?”

  Gringers’s glance dropped to his hands; then he shook his head. “I don’t think so, not the way we came. It’s too dangerous. We’d have to find another way. It might be better for those who are left here to think about leaving Barl-gan, to find lives for themselves elsewhere, perhaps among the Wastelanders or with those who live around the Enzaar Sea.”

  Lord Bara frowned. “No. They wouldn’t be accepted. Anyway, someone must stay here to take care of the star beacon or the gods will never know how to find us.”

  “What gods?” Gringers asked.

  “The gods, the gods that brought us here, of course,” Bara said petulantly. “According to the prophecies, the gods will return one day and take us back to the world from whence we came, a beautiful world where the sky is blue and the land is free of savage beasts, a world of peace and harmony, where we’ll all be greeted as lost brothers found.”

  “What is a star beacon?”

  “It’s how we speak to the gods.” Bara looked at the magic box in Gringers’s hands. “It’s a machine like that, but much larger. It’s housed in the northernmost wind tower. Care of the beacon is passed down from generation to generation.”

  Bara looked at Kelsan and Birdfoot. “These two are the last of the Watchers.” He looked back at Gringers.

  “At the moment there is no one in Barl-gan to whom Kelsan or Gils can pass on the knowledge they possess, someone who can learn and remember for longer than a few days at a time.”

  “You’re telling us that you speak to your gods through a machine?” Gringers asked, a disbelieving tone in his voice.

  “Yes.”

  “And they answer you?”

  A crafty
smile touched Bara’s face. “There’s only one way for you to find out the answer to that question.”

  Lil-el leaned over and whispered in Bhaldavin’s ear. “He’s mad! He wants Gringers to stay and replace him.”

  “I know,” Bhaldavin responded softly.

  Gringers heard their whispers and turned. “Something wrong?”

  Lil-el straightened in her chair, a determined look on her face. “You wouldn’t be happy here, Gringers.”

  “There’s much to learn in a place like this,” he countered. “Things that might benefit both of our peoples in the long run.”

  “Perhaps,” Lil-el conceded. “But I would caution you before you decide. Look around you. What has the knowledge of the First Men gained these people?”

  “What do you think, Bhaldavin?” Gringers asked. “Should we stay?”

  “You can stay,” Bhaldavin answered, “but I have no wish to.”

  Gringers looked at Lord Bara, indecision in his eyes.

  “Stay, Gringers,” Lord Bara urged. “Stay to rule Barl-gan.”

  “And wait for your gods’ return?” Gringers said.

  “Yes.”

  Gringers frowned. “I know nothing of your gods, Lord Bara, but if those you wait for are gods, as I understand the term, I would think they could find you with or without your beacon.”

  “Does that mean you won’t stay?”

  Gringers shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I might stay—for a while.”

  Lord Bara shivered convulsively and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, death’s shadow hovered near. “Stay if you wish, or go,” he said softly. “It won’t matter to me much longer either way. The cord that linked me to Barl and us to this body has been severed, and weakness steals upon me.”

  Bara turned and drew the blanket back from his brother’s face. Barl’s eyes had been closed and his hair combed down over the hole in his temple.

  “He goes before me,” Bara said, “alone for once in his life. He loved me and hated me at the same time and was always angry that we had to share this body. I pray he’s happy now. May he be granted his own body the next time around.”

  Bara died quietly a few hours later. Unable to sustain blood and oxygen to both his own and his brother’s body, he simply went to sleep; his last words to Kelsan concerned the place he wanted their body to be buried.

  Bhaldavin and Lil-el walked down the pathway to the main gate, where Gringers and Theon waited for them. Bhaldavin paused and glanced back at the great stone building that housed the last of Barl-gan’s citizens. The four wind towers stood tall and sheer in the morning sun, lonely sentinels from the past. A few tendrils of fog drifted around the towers, defying Ra-shun’s power to clear the air.

  Lil-el touched Bhaldavin’s arm. “Having second thoughts?”

  “About leaving?”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing for me here and— I have a promise to keep.”

  “A promise?”

  “To my brother, Dhalvad. It’s been fifteen years since I left him behind. It’s time I try to go back to the Deep to find him—if he still lives.” He caught her hand. “You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

  “You know I will.”

  “It may take us a while to find a way around the Draak’s Teeth.”

  “We’ll find a way,” she assured him. “I only wish that Gringers and Theon were coming with us. I hate the thought of leaving them here alone.”

  “I’m not as worried about them as I am about the star beacon and Bara’s ‘gods.’ Who were the Ral-jennob really? Were they gods or were they men?”

  “Does it matter now?”

  “It might, if Bara’s star beacon really works. What if his gods do decide to return someday to Lach? What will it mean to our people?”

  She leaned close. “You worry too much, Bhaldavin. If in two thousand years, Bara’s gods haven’t returned, either the star beacon isn’t working properly—or the Ral-jennob aren’t listening.”

  “Perhaps. Still, it might not be a bad idea to destroy the beacon just to make sure.”

  “Destroy the beacon, and Bara’s people have nothing to live for,” Lil-el chided gently. “Leave them their dreams, Bhaldavin.” She took his arm. “Come, let’s go say goodbye to Gringers and Theon.”

  Bhaldavin cast one last glance at the wind towers and knew Lil-el was right. Barl-gan’s few remaining citizens had a right to their dreams.

  Lil-el and Bhaldavin continued down the path and through the open gates. Gringers and Theon waited for them on the steps outside. Theon looked pale, but he smiled as they approached.

  Gringers gave Lil-el a hug and then helped her with her pack. Theon hugged her too and told her to take care of herself.

  “Are you both sure you won’t stay?” Gringers asked Bhaldavin.

  “No.”

  “Which way will you be going?”

  “East along the lakes,” Bhaldavin said. “Then south, I think.”

  Gringers smiled. “Not going to try the Draak’s Teeth again?”

  Bhaldavin matched his smile. “No, I think not. Once is enough. How long will you stay here?”

  Gringers shrugged. “Until I have what I came after.”

  “And then?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll visit the Wastelanders for a while. See what they have to offer.”

  “Not afraid of traveling alone now, without a draak singer?”

  “A little, yes, but we’ll have one or two of the laser guns, and if we’re careful with them, they should last awhile.”

  Gringers extended a hand. “Do we part as friends, Bhaldavin?”

  Bhaldavin nodded and took Gringers’s hand. He was startled as Gringers pulled him into a hug.

  “Take good care of her, Bhaldavin,” Gringers whispered. “And yourself. And here,” he said, stepping back. “The crystal we promised you.”

  Bhaldavin took the cloth-wrapped crystal and uncovered it. It glowed with a green luminescence that warmed him and made him remember its promise of friendship. He carefully rewrapped the crystal and put it in his tunic pocket.

  “Thank you, Gringers. I thought you’d forgotten.”

  Theon limped forward. “My turn. Well, Bhaldavin, it’s been a long haul for us, and I’m sorry it’s come to a parting of the ways. I’m really going to miss you.”

  He called me Bhaldavin!

  Theon grinned and caught Bhaldavin by the shoulders.

  “We’re going to be here awhile, so if you change your mind and decide you’d like to join us in our wanderings, don’t be bashful. You know we’d like nothing better than to have two draak singers back with us.”

  Bhaldavin returned Theon’s rough embrace, surprised to discover the pressure of tears behind his eyes.

  He turned away and held out a hand to Lil-el. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded and together they started down the steps.

  Epilogue

  I’D HOPED THEY WOULD STAY WITH US,” GRINGERS SAID sadly, his glance following the two Ni as they disappeared into the lower city.

  “They’ll be back,” Theon said.

  “I don’t know. Bhaldavin has wanted his freedom a long time.”

  “He’ll be back.”

  Gringers looked at Theon. “What makes you so sure of that?”

  Theon reached into his pocket and drew out a crumpled piece of cloth. He carefully unwrapped it and held it up for Gringers’s inspection. The fire stone winked brightly in the sunlight.

  “When he realizes it’s missing, he’ll come back looking for it.”

  Gringers threw back his head and laughed aloud. “Put it away, you scoundrel, and pray that you’re right, because I love those two and don’t want to lose them now!”

  About the Author

  Marcia Joanne Bennett was born on June 9, 1945. Raised in a rural community, she has spent all but a few of her working years in central New York State.

  After graduating from Albany Busine
ss College in 1965, she spent the next seven years in banking.

  Several years ago she established a small craft shop in her hometown. While running the shop she began writing, a hobby that quickly became an addiction. Her other interests range from reading, painting, and basketry to astrology and parapsychology.