Princess of Amathar

by Wesley Allison

  "Let us rest for a while nearby," said the beautiful Amatharian woman.

  "Fine," I replied, looking around. "Why don't we make a temporary camp upon that hill?" Reaching up above a slight bend in the river was a small hill topped by five or six large, bushy trees. From the top, one could look around in all directions, with a great view of the river, and with the exception of some of the heavily wooded areas, a good view of everything else. Once at the top of the hill, we found a great spot to lie down upon, with the shade of the largest of the trees to protect us from the eternal noon-day sun. Though we were both tired, I volunteered to take the first watch. Even in a garden, one could never be too careful.

  While Noriandara Remontar quietly dozed beneath the shady tree, I strolled around the base of the hill, scouting the area and looking for any possible sources of food. It may seem as I relate this story, that we spent an inordinate amount of time worrying about, looking for, or thinking about food, but anyone who has been alone in the wilderness, forced to live by their wits or by the hand of providence will agree that things like food, water, and shelter take on an importance that at other times seems out of proportion. This new land in which we found ourselves was not so well stocked as the one from which we had come, though I found some fruit on a tree which had been slightly nibbled at by some animal or other. When I returned to the hilltop, the Princess was still sleeping, so I sat and watched her for a while. I had little opportunity to do so while paddling along in the water, and I had missed it, for you see, I cannot stress enough what an incredibly beautiful woman she was. This time though, as I looked at her, I couldn't help but daydream about her cousin. If only I could see my very good friend Vena Remontar again, all the adventures through which I had passed would seem trivial. Shortly, the Princess returned to the world of the living and sat up. She inquired if anything unusual had happened during her nap. I related the details of my observation of the surrounding countryside, and I gave her half of the fruit which I had acquired.

  "You may take your turn sleeping now," said the Amatharian woman.

  "I don't know that I'm really sleepy yet," I replied, laying down and using a partially exposed tree root for a pillow. "Maybe you could talk a bit, and help me to go to sleep."

  "What do you want me to talk about?" she asked in a tone that only confirmed my belief that she did not particularly enjoy casual conversation.

  "Tell me about your visit to the garden of souls."

  "I was already a grown woman, and an accomplished swordsman. I had been on many expeditions and seen many things in the world. I had many adventures. In fact, my cousin Vena Remontar had already received her soul, even though I was walking upright when she was born. My brother had gone to the garden to find his soul, and I was tempted to do the same, but I was also... hesitant. I went to reflect in the Temple of Amath, but it didn't seem to provide answers that I needed.

  "I walked back to the garden entrance to see if Norar Remontar had returned. He had not, but a young swordsman from the Tree Clan emerged from the garden just then. He had been in the garden for a long time, but had not received his soul. Instead of dying as he should have, he had come out. His family and his clan were greatly dishonored. Every member of Tree Clan who was present in the courtyard, lowered their heads and walked away.

  "I decided right then that I would not seek a soul. I would live my life as a swordsman and a scientist as my aunt did. I started to walk away. For some reason though, I could not control my direction, and I walked right into the garden. It was my soul calling me, but I didn't know that at the time. Once inside the gates, I knew that I could not come back out. There was no going back. I went deeper into the garden until I found my soul. Only then did I return."

  Her tale told she slowly walked away down the hill. I thought about the fact that everyone has their own story and that what might seem so strange to one of us, would be so ordinary to another, and that what was an every day event for one, my be a traumatic event in the life of another. Then there were those events which would affect anyone, and affect them forever --like the young swordsman from the Tree Clan. My mind told me that this was the one thing in which the Amatharians were cruel and unnecessarily so. Yet another part of my body, some part which I could not quite identify, seemed to tell me that it was just and right that the Amatharians should spurn and cast out anyone who dared to return from the Garden of Souls without a soul of his own.

  Thinking such thoughts, with two different parts of my body it seemed, I dozed off. I had become adept at falling asleep during the daylight hours, since that is all that there were in the world of Ecos, something that would have been, if not impossible, then at least unusual for me when I lived on Earth. I recalled that long ago I wondered if Amatharians closed their drapes before sleeping, and realized that I had not really paid much attention when I was in the city --but as it turned out Amatharians had no drapes. Bedrooms usually possessed no windows. Falling asleep was not really that difficult a task, as I am sure that many afternoon nap-takers can attest. I was beneath a shady tree, and the clouds above shaded the land around me with dappled sunlight.

  I was startled awake by that unpleasant feeling of someone or some thing hovering over me. I opened my eyes to find that this was the case. A black dripping form stood over me. It had a rounded mushy body with a decidedly frog-like shape. If was difficult to tell where the head ended and the body began, but upon its head was a great drooping mouth and two huge googly eyes. While its body was pudgy, its arms were long and spindly with webbed hands. Its legs by contrast, were thick and powerful. It wore no clothing, and the only article of equipment which it carried was a long bone dagger. My mind had just enough time to register these facts, when the repulsive thing jumped on me. Chapter Twenty Eight: The Bloobnoob

  The thing lunged down at me, intent on grabbing me with its long and relatively spindly, but no doubt strong, arms. I rolled back onto my shoulders and planted both my feet in the creature's chest, and giving it a great shove, I sent it flying ten feet into the air. With a single swift motion, I came to my feet, and was standing upright with glowing sword in hand when the grotesque amphibian came crashing back to the ground with a dull thud.

  There were six more of the monsters standing around me, and they lunged for me as a group. I swung my sword through the body of the closest, while pushing the next back with my left hand. I recoiled as I felt the thick coating of slime which covered the thing's body. At that moment, three others rushed forward and I was knocked back against the tree. I began hacking with abandon, chopping here and there into the bodies of my attackers. This caused them to step back a few feet. At least those who were still able to step back did so. One was lying on the ground unmoving, and two others were flopping around as they tried to get back to their feet.

  While they took a moment to decide who would be the first among them to die, I prepared myself for their next assault. When they lunged forward, I jump up, tucking and rolling forward, to land behind them. Then with a spinning cut, I decapitated two in one blow. When I say decapitated, I mean that I sliced off at least the top half of what I would call the head, for I repeat it was difficult to say just where the body ended and the head began. There was no neck. The single remaining unscathed amphibian turned toward the river, and it was with fierce satisfaction that I noted none of those who remained would ever swim again. I ran after the last remaining man-frog, the anger born of being taken from peaceful sleep into bloody battle hazing over my better judgment. I could have easily overtaken the flopping limping gate of the slimy entity, even with out my gravity enhanced speed. Before I had gone more than two steps, I stopped in my tracks. Stuck into the ground was Noriandara Remontar's sword. I pulled it out of the ground and looked at it. It was quiet. There was no sign of the soul within, and I felt my heart ache, even though I knew this really signified nothing. The soul would have been quiet even if I had been using it in battle. The soul only awaked when used by its chosen knight. I put the Princess's sword in m
y sheath, and continued.

  My scum-covered adversary was gone, but I knew approximately where it had entered the river. On the bank were a great many tracks. This was apparently both the point of egress and entrance. The water here was fast and deep. Before I could think too much about it, admittedly something that is usually not too much of a problem, I took a deep breath and dived in.

  The water was not too cold, though the temperature was lower than the air had been. I swam deeper and deeper--the river was far less shallow than I had supposed. I reached a level at which my ears began to hurt. The water was muddy though well lit by the noon-day sun. It seemed to me that I was able to hold my breath longer than I had whenever swimming on my home planet. Perhaps this was due somehow to the gravitational conditions of Ecos, or perhaps it just seemed that way because of all the adrenaline pumping through my system. Still, I was just at the point when I thought that I would need to surface for a breath, when I noticed an opening in the rocky bed of the river. I swam down into the large hole and discovered a tunnel, which went downward some twenty feet and then turned. I realized that I didn't have enough air in my lungs to last much longer, so I returned to the surface and took several deep breaths. I then hyperventilated for ten or fifteen seconds to fill my blood with oxygen. Now I was as ready as I could be. I dived back to the bottom of the river only to find that I had been swept down stream. I tried to go against the current, but it would have been impossible even had I not been encumbered by equipment and clothing. In the end I was forced to swim to the shore and walk upstream to the place where I had jumped in and do it all again.

  This time I went right to the bottom and into the submarine passage. At the bottom of the shaft, I gave myself a strong push off the wall and into the tunnel, and then swam for all I was worth. I didn't know how long that passage might be, for I suspected that the creatures that regularly used it, while air breathers, were able to remain submerged for a long time. It was certain that they were far better designed for life under the water than I was. It wasn't long before I was wishing that I had taken off my boots.

  As luck would have it, the tunnel went only about fifty feet before it opened into a great subterranean chamber filled with air. The air was warm but seemingly fresh, so there must have been some ventilation from somewhere. I don't know how this could be possible, as a vent to the outside air should cause the water from the river to flood the chamber, but then I'm no engineer, and at the time I had other concerns on my mind.

  If this had been a T.V. adventure show, I would have found a nice ledge beside the water, on which to lift myself out onto dry land. As it was, sharp, craggy rocks, jutting from the water's surface were the only exit from the water, and by the time I had cleared myself of them and landed in a patch of spongy mud on the other side, my hands had been scraped and cut into a bloody mess. I was now glad that I had not left my boots on the bank of the river when I had jumped in.

  The sloppy ooze beyond the jagged rocks filled the rest of the chamber, and I realized as I was examining this, that I could see pretty well. Even though there was no artificial light, the sunlight streaming into the chamber through the channel of water from which I had emerged, provided substantial illumination. The chamber had two exits, neither of which I could use without getting myself completely covered in the disgusting muck, and since such was the case, it didn’t make much difference which of the two I chose. I took the left one.

  I slopped along through the muddy passageway, constantly on guard against more of the frogmen. The slimy burrow was only about forty feet long, and opened into a large, roughly round room with no other exits. I turned around to retrace my steps just in time to find three more of the Bloobnoob sneaking up behind me. Again I made quick work of them, and I wondered that they were considered so dangerous, when I myself had now dispatched half a score. Back down the hallway I went, now completely covered with greenish black mud and blackish red gore. I turned to my left and headed down the remaining corridor. It was about twice as long as my first choice had been. The destination in this case was a smaller chamber, but I was rewarded by finding Noriandara Remontar. She was being held down upon her back in the center of the room by five of the amphibians, and they had their hands full too. Standing above the beautiful Amatharian was a sixth creature, which held a stone bowl about twelve inches in diameter above his head. I couldn’t tell what kind of sinister plan was intended by the fiends, but the entire scene was far too reminiscent of a ritual killing for my tastes. I launched myself across the room, throwing my shoulder into the creature with the bowl. Letting out a groan as all of his air left his body, the slimy thing fell to the ground, kicking about in the mud. The others let go of Noriandara Remontar to turn their attention to me. This was a major mistake on their part. By the time they had all faced me; their former captive had regained her feet, and planted her right fist into the spine of one frogman, and her left boot into the spine of another. When the others turned to see what was going on behind, I began lopping off their heads. Only one had time to even try to escape, and he got no more than a single step away before I cut him completely in two.

  “Not the brightest things,” the Princess commented, reaching to retrieve her sword from my scabbard. Suddenly the chamber began to swim around, and I lost my footing. I fell into the mud and the blood on the chamber floor. I was folded over by a spasm of convulsive vomiting which lasted almost a minute. When I could open my eyes, I saw the Amatharian princess looking down at me as she sheathed her sword.

  “Oh, I feel really sick,” I gasped.

  “I’m not surprised,” replied the woman. “You are covered with Bloobnoob guts, and they are quite poisonous. Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  With strength that most casual observers would never have guessed she possessed, she pulled me to my feet, placed a shoulder under mine, and began leading me toward the entrance of the lair.

  “You’ll feel better once this mess is washed off,” she said.

  If there were any of our amphibious foes remaining, they chose to avoid us, and we reached the hole leading to the river passage without being molested. Unceremoniously, my companion pushed me into the water. As soon as the slimy bodily fluids began to wash off of me, I felt better. Dunking myself completely under, I washed my face, hair and hands.

  “Those things poison everyone and everything they come in contact with,” said Noriandara Remontar.

  “They must have only moved into this area a short time ago, or the land around the rivers and this small sea would be devoid of life.”

  “Come on,” I called from the water. “Let’s get out of here and discuss it later.”

  The Princess dropped into the water beside me, and silently indicated with a nod, that I should make the journey first down the water filled tunnel. Hyperventilating again for several seconds, I pushed off and swam down the submerged tube for all I was worth. Reaching the end, I shot toward the surface and filled my lungs with a gasp as I emerged. Shortly thereafter, the Princess lifted her head slowly from the current, giving every impression that she could have spent twice as long underwater without even trying. Swimming to the shore, we found ourselves only yards from the hilltop upon which we had spent a few quiet, restful moments.

  “I would prefer to get out of Bloobnoob territory as soon as possible,” said the Amatharian.

  “No argument from me.”

  We set off, without too much worry. It was relatively easy to determine that we were not being followed. We trekked over green hills and through small wooded areas. We didn't stop until the Princess expressed her opinion that we were probably beyond the territory of the disgusting frog-men. Even so, I didn't let my guard down completely, for the memory of the previous rest was still fresh in my mind.

  I let Noriandara Remontar sleep first. She had been through a great deal. Once she had slept a long while--I would imagine it was a good seven hours--I took my turn. I must admit that I didn't sleep entirely soundly. I woke up periodically and ha
d to reassure myself that all was well. When I eventually got up though, I felt quite rested.

  Once our rest period was over, we started again across the landscape.

  "So what happened?" I asked her.

  "The Bloobnoob appeared suddenly behind me," she replied, instinctively knowing what I was talking about. "I called out to wake you, but you didn't respond."

  "I must have been tired."

  Chapter Twenty Nine: The Wrecked Ship

  Inland from the strange, silent sea, and away from the slimy amphibians, the landscape through which we walked might have seemed like something from a fairy tale. Though I had seen many temperate areas within Ecos, there was something completely unearthly about this locale. The grass was short and thick, resembling the front yard of a man whose lawn mower had been broken for a week or ten days. The trees, which were short but possessing thick, green foliage, seemed to be spaced evenly apart by design. And spaced periodically in clumps on the ground were patches of small white flowers. As we walked along--strolled might be a better word, since we were not moving at a very great rate of speed--the Princess would grab some of the flowers as we passed and weave them together. After a while, she had created a little white floral hat which she put on her head. This was the first whimsical thing which I had ever witnessed from her, and I watched her for a moment. She caught me looking at her and smiled self-consciously.