“Detonto.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“See if you can find a few men willing to handle tough but precious cargo back through the walls and into the Loribringus.”
“Yes, my lord. What is the cargo?”
“I’m fetching it. Just go.” Harris turned to Talqwah. “Lead the way, uncle.”
“I am not your uncle, Lord Belmundus. You do me too much honor.”
“I’m Cetrone now.” He displayed his gollywi, much to Talqwah’s delight. “And Yustichisqua and I are blood brothers. So, that makes you my uncle. Besides, I inherited your waddly wazzoo.”
“That, my lord, was not my doing. That was a gyration from the Primordius Centrum.” Harris moved forward. Talqwah pointed. “You have an injury.”
“It’s a long story, uncle. Remind me to tell you if I survive this day.”
Talqwah grinned, and then turned toward the siti.
4
Harris limped, choosing not to engage his zulus. As convenient as they were — in Nayowee’s parlance, a private laziness, in the Kalugu they were the bane of the Cetrone, a sign of servitude. This didn’t stop Talqwah from racing ahead on his.
In the siti, the Yodanado slept as they had on most days throughout the ages. The seven heads, resting on seven wigwam’d buckskin cloaks, looked like so many bowling balls (ancient bowling balls) perch and awaiting rental.
“They sleep, my lord,” Talqwah said, raising his hand.
“Wake them.”
“I dare not.”
Harris raised Friend Tony and unsheathed the brashun blade. He aimed it at the siti’s roof and let loose a thunderous blast.
“Euforsee,” he shouted. “Wake and come.”
Euforsee’s eyes shot open, as did her sisters. Her mouth arched and a purplish tongue wagged over her lips.
“Lord Belmundus,” she shouted back. “You have returned with a spark in hand and a fire in your heart. So my cousin has forewarned.”
“Cousin, Euforsee?”
“Nayowee of the asi-asa.”
This didn’t surprise Harris, but he was not here to swap lineages or ancient legends. He sheathed Tony and raised his waddly wazzoo.
“Shall the Yodanado follow me to safety?”
“What do we know about safety?” Euforsee asked. “These are our children, who are not to be abandoned.”
“They are not abandoned,” Harris said. “They are protected.”
“Or felled by the thousands.”
“Mayhap they will, but those who die now die free, and not as enslaved Trones.”
“Lord Belmundus,” Talqwah muttered. “The Yodanado cannot move. They are . . . heads on lifeless bodies.”
Harris feared as much. Was he suppose to grab Euforsee’s skull as she jabbered, tuck it under his arm and collect the others in a brace held by hair roots. He bowed to the head.
“Lady,” he said. “You cannot remain here. You are sacred. So are your sisters. But how shall I manage it?”
“Do not suppose we are without resources, Lord Belmundus,” she replied. Her head twisted like a corkscrew, and then the buckskins fell — all seven. Harris gasped at what was revealed — seven doll-like bodies, wraithed and pruned, hung like peppers out to dry. “Sisters,” Euforsee croaked. “Sisters, the time has come when the light is kindled and Zacker emerges from its weeping trail to hold the lamp high against the dark legacy. The time has come”
Euforsee closed her eyes, and then opened them again, her pupils golden — flashing like a firecracker. Then, the siti filled with crimson smoke. Harris knelt to avoid inhaling it. When it cleared, Euforsee stood before him — one woman, younger, and in one body with only one head.
“Lord Belmundus,” she said. “We are not without resources, but you must hold to your course, because if you fail, all the worlds will darken and be extinguished in Zin’s powerful darkness.”
“Zin?”
Harris had no thoughts of Zin or darkness or any battle beyond liberating the Kalugu. He had no time to ponder this whisperer’s warning.
“Talqwah, escort Lady Euforsee to the beachhead and get her through the walls.”
Talqwah appeared hesitant, but Harris rattled Hierarchus. Soon, Lord Belmundus stood alone in the siti. He could hear the battle growing on the rooftops. The Yunocker defenders had come alive and would not sit still for this rebellion. Suddenly, the klaxon sounded.
Reaptide.
Chapter Five
The Mordanka
1
Harris rushed as best he could through the siti to the beachhead, where Detonto had readied the Seecoy.
“My lord,” Detonto said. “There is an alarm sounded. The enemy knows we are here.”
“That is the reaptide klaxon, Detonto.”
Harris peered into Detonto’s eyes, which didn’t register this explanation.
“It is a call to arms, my lord.”
“Trust me, Detonto. That alarm goes off automatically, although I wouldn’t be surprised if we’ve been detected.” He gazed up, witnessing aniniya beams shooting across the roof. “We’d better hightail it out of here.” Detonto revved the Seecoy. “No Seecoy. We’ll hoof it.”
“Hoof it?”
“The Seecoy will prove useless in the Kalugu’s narrow lanes. It’s better to run, dodge and jump.” Then Harris felt a twinge in his foot. “Well, maybe not jump, but . . .” He switched on his zulus, rising to the occasion. “I hate to use these things here, but if I stood on ceremony, I’d never stand at all.”
Detonto shrugged, gathered as much wadi-wadi as he could into two korinkles and swung one to Harris.
“Let’s go then,” Harris barked, and drifted into the clan house and through the dark corridors.
Reaching the sqwallen house, Harris met Estatoie, who was attempting to rouse cadaverous Cetrone, who pushed him away, returning to their addled slumber.
“Estatoie.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“They’re useless. They’ll die in the mayhem.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Harris turned to Detonto.
“Give each a good shake. If they open their eyes, pull them to their feet and tumble their beds over. We can’t do more than that now.”
Detonto quickly rattled twenty beds in turn. Only two Cetrone were drawn upward, their beds overturned. They watched helplessly from their stupor. Harris zoomed past Detonto, crossing the threshold and emerging onto the street, where dozens of Cetrone rushed by in panic. Overhead, the Yunockers did what Yunockers do at reaptide. They flashed Sticks, taking aim at poor innocents, who had not managed to find shelter before the klaxon’s sound and the reaptide slaughter. Zugginak growls were heard nearby, but not one dog was in sight yet.
Harris saw Oustestee’s Seecoy and his squadron zip by. They glided to the roofline, where they were open to Yunocker view. Harris hailed Estatoie.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Get as many of these poor souls inside. Check the other clan houses. Secure them. Knock the sqwallen addled from their slumber, if you can. Enlist them to arms if possible, but be prepared for a shock, Estatoie. The zugginaks are coming.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Detonto, with me.”
Harris ascended to the rooftop, Detonto in tow. When Harris crested the eaves, he ducked out of view quickly. Oustestee was engaging a Yunocker patrol, the aniniya flying like fur. Harris managed to grip a rain gutter, hoisting himself up on the flattop. Then, he helped Detonto. The roof was thick with battle, Estatoie’s squadrons coming to the Oustestee’s aid.
“We outnumber the enemy, my lord,” Detonto said. “We have the advantage.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Harris muttered. “We’ve firepower, but the regulati are seasoned warriors. When their heads get in the game, we’ll be shifting for our advantage.” Harris point to a foreboding black dome. “The mordanka.”
He scurried along the flattop, Friend Tony his chief aid now. He kept his head low and his wits about hi
m. Cabriolins and Seecoys were dog fighting directly above. If he could make a difference, he would try, but the action was intense. With one gauged shot, he could bring down a Cabriolin.
“Shall I try, my lord?” Detonto asked.
“I doubt aniniya would do the trick. It could go astray. Ricochet and catch us between the eyes.”
Harris ran to a causeway between the clan house roof and the mordanka’s dome.
“Oustestee must get inside and attack the zugginak kennels,” he said. “If the dogs are released, we’ll be in deep shit.” Then he reflected. “Deeper shit.”
The hellhounds may have already been released, but he hoped the klaxon’s distraction drew the mordanka guards skyward, muddling normal reaptide procedures. But he had heard roaring. The tludachi, he thought. That was worse.
Suddenly, the sky battle came closer to the roofline, Oustestee’s Seecoy pursued by three Cabriolins, peeling him away from his squadron. Detonto took aim at the lead Yunocker, but Harris pushed his Taleenay’s blundaboomer aside, drawing Hierarchus. He aimed at the three Cabriolins and, touching his Columbincus, shot — fire ripping the air. The blast tore the undercarriages from all three vehicles. They waffled, spun, and then dropped from the sky like skeet plates.
“Yes, my lord,” Detonto shouted.
“Now you can shoot. Blast their flank.”
A five Cabriolin team raced at the squadron, but Detonto’s pepper shot deterred them. They turned away, heading for the main gate.
“They’ll get reinforcements and be back as sure as shit,” Harris declared, patting Detonto’s shoulder. “Good shooting.”
“Thank you, my lord. My father taught me well.”
Harris stood, taking aim at the dome, Hierarchus pouring steady fire at the ugly ribs. The structure trembled, cracked, and then the great phitron stonework dome came unglued, crashing into the mordanka.
“Let’s go.”
Oustestee’s squadron zoomed into the gap just as Harris and Detonto reached the fissure. Harris had never seen the mordanka — the Kalugu’s governing seat. He peered down, trying to discern the ground amidst smoke and rubble. Regulati rushed between the fallen stones. Despite injury, they attempted to rescue their comrades. Some Yunockers were beyond hope.
Harris shook his head, a gesture to compassion, but that was as far as it went.
Bing bong.
Harris held fast to the dome’s ridge, fiddling for his sillifoon.
“BeeDust here.”
“2Gollies I be.”
“Little Bird,” Harris said, anxiously. “Speak to me.”
“It is hard, oginali,” came the reply, dropping the code speak at the first mention of Little Bird. “The gate has been destroyed, but so have we.”
“Where are you? You ken it?”
“I ken it, oginali. Much fire and smoke. Much destruction, but they know now that it was a trick.”
Harris scratched his chin, shaking his head. The news wasn’t a surprise, but the loss of his warriors weighed heavily on the heart.
“But you live, Dinatli.”
“I do, but . . .”
“But what?”
“I am, as you say, pinned down and have no chance to . . .”
“To what?”
“To say . . .”
“To say what, Dinatli?” No response. Harris shook the sillifoon. “Stupid fucking thing. Never works when you need it.” He raised it to his ear again. “Old man. Old Man. 2Gollies.”
He sniffed, lowered the device and swallowed hard.
“Are they lost, my lord?”
“It’s hard to say, Detonto. But if they are, it won’t be for nothing.” Anger swelled, and he pointed through the smoke and fire. “When I’m finished down there, the kennels’ll be twisted conontoroy and I’ll skin every fucking zugginak to make a coat for my lady.”
Detonto grinned, gave a war whoop and descended. Harris sighed, shaking his head again. He would not weep — not yet. He was sure the Yunocker army was on the move now to the Gulliwailit Bridge. He touched his Columbincus and prepared to play dogcatcher.
2
The ground came up and Harris plunged toward the wreck of the mordanka. The quartermasters of the Kalugu were sprawled over fallen phitron and twisted furniture. Some stirred, but they were unlikely to challenge the invaders.
Harris landed hard, stumbling on his dickey foot.
“Steady, my lord,” Detonto said.
Harris waved Hierarchus and positioned Friend Tony for perambulating around the zone. Oustestee and his crew zoomed through the place, striking anything that moved. Then a distinct barking sound roused Harris’ attention.
“The kennel.”
He waved to Oustestee to land, and then proceeded through an archway into a courtyard. There the building was intact. He spotted several Yunockers taking cover, positioned for a fight. He also saw the kennel gates — opened, the zugginaks released for the hunt.
“Hold steady,” Harris shouted. “I’d hoped to get these bastards before they were let loose. Let’s get’em before they get too far.”
Detonto aimed his blundaboomer as the beasts rushed them.
“No time like now,” Harris said, emulating his Taleenay, raising Hierarchus.
A blinding flash followed — aniniya, Columbincus and every promise from a brashun blade. But also in the mix were Sticks firing from behind a barricade normally meant to protect the Yunockers from stray zugginaks.
Harris ducked. Oustestee slipped ahead, firing blindly. Two members of his squad preceded him, only to find the hellhounds’ fangs clamped on legs and arms, a feasting vise. Harris stood, disregarding the Yunockers. He rushed the dogs, beating one, and then the other with Friend Tony. He dared not fire and risk his men.
Detonto covered him, pulsing his blundaboomer at the mordanka defenders. The dogs snapped fiercely at Harris, and stupidly at Hierarchus, their teeth brutalized. Four other zugginaks ran in a circle around invader and defender alike. Harris heard screams from regulati behind their useless barricade.
“Detonto,” he shouted.
“Kill them, my lord. They eat the very stones, they do.”
“Retreat,” Harris said, and then shouted it. “Retreat.”
Before he could push back, his foot betrayed him. He stumbled. Oustestee was on the spot, but a hungry beast leaped on him, pushing him on top of Harris, pinning both to what could have been a dinner plate.
Harris shuddered. The zugginak mauled Oustestee, drooling as it assessed its quarry. Yellow canines were preparing a painful death. Harris tried to push Oustestee off, but his Danuwa was out cold. The combined weight of the Cetrone and the zugginak was too heavy to budge.
Harris tried to reach for the brashun blades, but they were beyond reach, his arms pinned. He couldn’t even tap his Columbincus. Even if he could, he feared blowing Oustestee to Kingdom Come. Suddenly, the dog howled, lifting its head up, and then collapsed — dead. Then Harris felt the weight lifted.
“Oustestee,” he said.
No answer from the Danuwa, who still breathed. Hands worked across Oustestee’s shoulders, and then came the lift. Harris was free.
“Lord Belmundus,” came the rescuer’s voice.
Harris pushed up, and then gasped.
“Parnasus?”
“Yes, my lord. Are you injured?”
“I’ll be fine. It’s wonderful to see you.”
“Your foot?”
“An old injury, lad. An old injury. I thought you were dead.”
“So did I, but fortune has been kind to me. You are not the only Ayelli to break the treaty, as you can see.”
Apparently, not.
Parnasus was shorn of his old Danuwa attire. He wore rags and a sloppy lopsided cap. Still, the sight of the Thirdling gave Harris reassurance and korinkles of joy.
“We are not safe yet,” Parnasus muttered.
Harris looked about. Detonto and the remaining squad still battled the dogs, but were winning. Even down, a zugginak was da
ngerous, trying to kill with the last remnant of its strength. The Yunocker fire had ceased. Harris raised Hierarchus and rejoined the battle, his blasts effective, now that he wouldn’t kill his own. He noticed one warrior wielding a Stick, shooting aniniya blast after aniniya blast with greater skill than ever a Cetrone could muster.
Belmundus (The Farn Trilogy Book 1) Page 70
