Warning Cry

by Kris Humphrey

  Footsteps rang out to her left and Dawn set off. The low ceiling echoed with the thump of her boots, and those of the demon up ahead. Dawn stayed focused on the demon’s presence, charging past low stone doors and the occasional wall-mounted torch. Every turn she took the Narlaw remained just out of sight. There was no one else around.

  The corridor opened suddenly into a long, low-ceilinged room that Dawn didn’t recognize. Huge wooden vats stood to either side and one solitary torch burned on the wall, halfway down the chamber. It was some kind of laundry room.

  Dawn was several long strides into the chamber before she realized that she could no longer hear the demon’s footsteps. She stopped dead. Her focus had strayed and the Narlaw could be anywhere.

  She reached out again, cautiously. Just as she located the demon’s presence, hiding behind a laundry vat, it charged out at her from the shadows.

  Dawn leaped back, but not quickly enough. The demon crashed into her and she fell to the ground, twisting her ankle. Footsteps pounded away and Dawn peered into the semi-dark as she lay sprawled on the flagstones.

  A dark cloak flapped.

  Someone tall, a man perhaps.

  And in the last instant before the demon slipped away Dawn caught a flash of red and gold beneath a cloak.

  The uniform was unmistakable: a Guard of the Sun.

  CHAPTER 8

  The sound of drums filled the nomad camp – a joyful, tumbling rhythm that made it seem as if the flames of the great communal fire were not flickering but dancing. Nara sat cross-legged at the head of the long fire. Beside her, in a line, were Tuanne, Kalte, Toum and Roho. Flame lay sprawled behind her, gnawing on a bone, pausing only to stretch or yawn. Nara was exhausted, but the food and the music kept her awake and her spirits high.

  This was a celebration. The Narlaw lions had been banished and soon the Red Sands tribe would gather the precious herds of cattle that had been scattered by the demons. The tribe would survive for another season.

  The drums looped and thundered and Nara found herself swaying along, watching in admiration as the dancers spun and dipped and whirled their arms in perfect unison.

  Daan approached Nara and crouched before her, bowing slightly. “Remember,” he said, “your request must be heard before the celebration fire turns to ember.”

  Nara nodded and thanked Daan again for the feast before he continued along the line of honoured warriors. It was customary for the Red Sands to grant one request to any outsider who had assisted the tribe, as Nara had done. Nara already knew what she would ask, and that it would not be received well. She must tread carefully.

  She peered along to where Tuanne sat beside her mother. Nara tried to catch her eye, but failed.

  Tuanne, she whispered. Do you hear me?

  The girl’s head jerked in Nara’s direction and their eyes met. At first there was only fear in Tuanne’s expression. She glanced at Kalte – worried, no doubt, that her mother would catch her in secret conversation with the outsider.

  Look away, said Nara. No one will know.

  Tuanne turned back to face the fire and Nara did the same. The great flames swayed and crackled. Sparks shimmered into the night sky and vanished.

  I have a question, said Nara. It is your choice, and you must do only what is right for you – but I want to know if you will come with me to the north.

  Tuanne didn’t reply, but Nara sensed a nervous kind of interest in her.

  When we banished the demons, said Nara, I felt your strength. The kingdom needs Whisperers like you. I could teach you things as we travel. You could bring Nimbus, and learn to speak with her like I do with Flame.

  Nara felt a surge of excitement and longing from Tuanne. It was clear that she wanted to have her companion by her side more than anything, but to leave her tribe would be a huge upheaval, not just for Tuanne, but for Kalte and the rest of her family and friends, too.

  Don’t answer me now, said Nara. I have until the celebration fire burns down to make my request to Daan. If you don’t want to come then I’ll ask for something else. Please, don’t feel pressured.

  Nara glanced across and saw a troubled look on Tuanne’s face. Then she caught the eye of Daan, who was crouching nearby. He was in conversation with another man, but all of his attention seemed to be focused on Nara. He watched her closely, as if he had guessed what her request would be. After a moment, he nodded at Nara, then he turned away, back to the conversation with his friend.

  Nara leaned back, resting a hand on Flame’s soft belly as she watched the fire. It was beginning to shrink in height, the logs of thorn wood falling in on themselves.

  We should leave at dawn, Nara said.

  Flame looked up from her meal. And will we be leaving alone? she asked.

  We’ll see, said Nara. Let’s enjoy the food and the dancing for now. It may be a long time before we see this kind of hospitality again.

  Flame licked around her muzzle with quick, rasping strokes of her tongue. She stretched her long limbs.

  The food I can enjoy, she said. But you know I’d rather sleep than dance. Will you wake me when it’s morning?

  Nara smiled and scratched her friend behind the ears. I suppose you’ve earned some rest this time.

  Flame curled up, laying her head on Nara’s lap. Nara felt happy just to sit and observe as the people of the Red Sands celebrated. It was a huge victory for them – an enemy defeated, another season alive on the plains. But Nara couldn’t help thinking of war. The message from the palace had been grave. A return to the dark times was threatening and war, if it came, wouldn’t spare any corner of this beautiful, wild kingdom.

  It was quiet when Nara woke. There were fewer people around the fire, which was now reduced to a few weak tendrils of orange amid the white ash and ember. Flame stirred at her side, shifting away from Nara and quickly finding a new position in which to fall back to sleep.

  Nara slowly rose to her feet. She had not remembered falling asleep. A part of her felt embarrassed at having left herself so vulnerable to this group of strangers. But the Red Sands tribe were her friends now. Even Kalte’s rudeness had disappeared since they had fought together in the Rift. She had clasped Nara’s hand during the festivities and muttered a brief congratulation on performing the banishment.

  Nara looked around. She had to find Tuanne and see if she had made up her mind whether to come with them or not. Then she would go to Daan and make her request. Although her stomach tightened nervously at the prospect, she knew asking Tuanne to join them had been the right thing to do. There were just a handful of Whisperers on the savannah, and even one new addition would help the kingdom.

  Nara left the guttering fire in search of Tuanne, stepping carefully around others who had also fallen asleep in the grass. In the dark, her sense of direction failed her and she realized that she didn’t know which tent belonged to Kalte and Tuanne anyway. But in the end, it didn’t matter.

  Daan approached her out of the shadows. “You’ve reached a decision?”

  “Actually, I was looking for Tuanne,” said Nara.

  “Come,” said Daan. “I’ll take you to her.”

  Nara followed him through the moonlit trees. Daan was leading her towards his tent between the two tall acacia trees.

  Inside, Kalte and Tuanne were waiting for them. Nara turned to Daan with a question on her tongue.

  “Yes,” said Daan. “Tuanne told us she wanted to journey north with you.”

  Nara caught Tuanne’s eye, unable to suppress her grin. “And will the tribe allow her to leave?” she asked Daan.

  “Yes,” Daan said.

  Nara turned back to Tuanne. “You’re sure you want to come? If you don’t then just say so. I’d understand.”

  Tuanne nodded, holding back on her smile. “I’m sure,” she said.

  “There are conditions,” said Kalte. “Make careful note of them, Whisperer.”

  Daan nodded and stepped in. “Tuanne is in your charge,” he said gravely. “You mu
st see that she comes to no harm. Protect her with your life.”

  Nara nodded. “I will.”

  “And,” continued Daan, “she must be returned to the Red Sands. This is her home and we are her people. You will make sure of that when the war is over.”

  Nara looked Tuanne in the eye, then Kalte. “You have my oath,” she said.

  Daan nodded and Kalte simply stared at the ground. Nara felt sorry for her – and guilty – despite her certainty that asking Tuanne to come with her was the right thing to do.

  “Thank you,” Nara said. “All of you. If we’re to win against the Narlaw, we’ll need girls like Tuanne.”

  Tuanne smiled then and Nara did, too.

  “You’re brave,” said Kalte, “for a farm girl. And what you say about the war is true. Now leave us – Tuanne will find you at sunrise.”

  Nara bowed to each of them in turn and slipped out through the tent flap into the cool night. Excitement rushed through her as she rejoined Flame by the fire and lay beside her.

  Flame stirred. Well? she asked sleepily.

  We have sisters for the journey, said Nara.

  Flame curled in tightly and Nara lay her head down, revelling in the warmth and softness. She let her friend’s slow breathing lull her off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 9

  At daybreak Nara rose with the rest of the camp. The Red Sands tribe were moving on in search of their lost cattle and the camp was alive with activity. Tents came down to be rolled and packed and stowed in the saddlebags of the tribe’s few tethered cows. Nara gathered her things together and nudged Flame awake. The sky shone a brilliant blue – the promise of a hot day.

  It wasn’t long before Tuanne found them. She wore loose, earth-coloured trousers and a long smock of a similar colour, along with her archer’s gauntlet and leather shoulder pad. The pack she carried was compact, but well-stuffed. Her quiver of arrows had been refilled after the previous day’s battle.

  “I’ve said my goodbyes,” she said. “We should leave now.”

  Her eyes were red from crying.

  “Then we shall,” said Nara, feeling the weight of the responsibility she had taken on.

  Flame? she whispered.

  Flame dragged herself up from the grass and stretched theatrically. Always so early, she complained.

  Nara shook her head and Tuanne watched the two of them communicating in silence.

  “Soon,” Nara said, “you’ll learn the pleasure of whispering. I only hope that your companion isn’t as lazy as mine.”

  Tuanne smiled. “Nimbus is always moving. But I think monkeys need less rest than cats.”

  Nara shook her head. “Don’t encourage her,” she said, giving Flame a playful scowl.

  The three of them passed among the people of the Red Sands. They drew many glances, some of the tribe nodding polite greetings to Tuanne, some coming over to hug her or shake her hand. There were less friendly looks, too. Tuanne was a valuable tracker and one of the tribe’s best archers. It was not hard to see why many would resent her leaving. But when the trio of travellers came across Roho, the warrior ran over and hugged both of them, giving his kindest farewell and his hopes for a safe journey.

  They were soon out of the camp and following the dramatic cliff line of the Rift as it led them north-east. Their destination today was the river town of Heron’s Bend, one of a cluster of small settlements along the banks of the Salesi. From there they would seek passage upriver to the edge of the Inland Sea. Nara calculated that a steady pace would bring them to the river by sunset. She strode along, pleased to be back on the move. In some ways their stay with the nomads felt like a dream. It was hard, even now, to believe that she had fought three Narlaw in the heart of the Rift and had performed her first banishment. But Tuanne, walking purposefully beside her, was living proof of what had happened.

  Tuanne was very slim, but from the way she handled her bow, Nara knew she was strong. And although Tuanne was shorter than Nara, she managed to keep pace with her long strides.

  Since they had cleared the camp, Tuanne had been casting her gaze around the bush.

  “Do you feel her?” Nara asked. “Is she nearby?”

  “I don’t know,” said Tuanne, slightly embarrassed. “Usually she finds me first.”

  “This is something else we can fix.”

  Nara cast her Whisperer senses into the undergrowth, between the trees and the boulders, up along the stony cliff face. There were many small creatures that might shy away from these passing humans and Nara felt them all, their presences faint or strong depending on their skill at hiding. There was movement away to the left, however – a halting, nervous scrabbling.

  “There,” she said.

  Tuanne peered in the direction of Nara’s outstretched arm.

  A tuft of grass shivered.

  Tuanne smiled. “Nimbus!” she called.

  The monkey darted out of the bush, her tail curled above the red stripe of fur on her back. She crouched, surveying Nara and Flame.

  “They’re friends,” said Tuanne. “Come.”

  Although Tuanne could not whisper, Nimbus understood her companion’s feelings. She galloped on all fours, slapping the ground with her paws and jumping into Tuanne’s open arms.

  “You see,” said Tuanne.

  Nara sent a calm, friendly greeting to the monkey. Nimbus relaxed a little, but as they set off through the long shade of the cliff, the monkey dropped back to follow several paces behind the group, still eyeing Flame and Nara suspiciously.

  A stretch of open grassland lay beyond the Rift. Fever trees rose above the grasses, spaced far apart like islands in a swaying yellow sea. They paused beneath a towering tree, enjoying food, rest and precious shelter from the searing midday sun. Flame loped off into the tall grass to hunt.

  As they ate, Nara began to explain to Tuanne some of the very first techniques she had been taught by her mentor – how to concentrate on her Whisperer sense, how to cast it out and feel for the presence of living things around her. She was surprised by how difficult it was to explain these things that came to her so instinctively now.

  Although she had never been taught, Tuanne did already use her Whisperer senses to some degree. She had linked with Nara against the Narlaw in the Rift and she was skilled at feeling out her surroundings for potential danger or prey. By the time they were on their way again, Tuanne was casting out, calling the names of whatever she felt out there in the savannah.

  “Ground squirrel!” she said. “Fifty paces east… Bee-eater birds in that thorn bush – three, no, four of them… A spring hare, look, you can see it, too!”

  “You have a talent,” said Nara.

  And it was true. Tuanne seemed to know the species of whatever she sensed, even from far away. It had to be down to her childhood as a nomad, crossing the plains over and over, constantly at watch for predators, Nara thought. And there was her hunting experience, too. This was something Nara certainly didn’t have. Her schooling told her that Whisperers should never kill, but Tuanne had been raised with different traditions, different ways of seeing the world. The nomads farmed no crops and hunting was a means of survival.

  “A mongoose!” Tuanne called out. “It’s digging into a termite mound.”

  Nara couldn’t help but smile as a wave of sisterly affection swept over her.

  By late afternoon they had left the Rift behind. The grasslands began to rise into a line of low hills, deep brown and golden in the dipping sun. It was from these hills that the four travellers got their first view of the river.

  It curved across the flood plain, shimmering like a thick silver ribbon. The river towns clung to its edge, divided by a grid of irrigation channels that spread out across the broad, fertile plain. Only twice before had Nara travelled this far from home. For her, the Salesi river marked the edge of the known world.

  Down on to the plain, they walked with renewed energy at the sight of the river – Nara and Flame side by side, and Tuanne a short way behind. Nimbu
s came and went from the group. Despite being born a companion, she had never properly lived with humans, and Nara was beginning to worry about getting this timid, distrustful creature on to a river boat for the next leg of their journey.

  The flood plain was well-travelled, with paths and cart-roads that made the walking easy. There were many more insects here than any of the travellers were used to, however. Each of them walked with their hands, ears or tails flicking around their faces to ward the persistent, buzzing creatures away.

  Several farmers greeted Nara as the group passed through. Her parents were well known here, and even though they rarely brought Nara with them on their trading trips, the presence of Flame made her easy to recognize. Flame paced warily at Nara’s side.

  Nimbus was even more nervous of the river people. She stayed close to Tuanne, often clambering on to her shoulder and wrapping her long tail around Tuanne’s neck.

  They reached the town of Heron’s Bend as the sky was turning a deep, inky blue. There were enough houses for perhaps a hundred residents, all built from wood and lifted high above the earth on solid-looking stilts, ready for the seasonal rains.

  Nara headed straight for the river banks and the wooden jetties that thrust out into the fast-flowing water. The place was busy at this hour, with a great many townsfolk returning from their days of trading or fishing. Flame and Nimbus drew many puzzled, wary looks. A pair of women paused from lifting a bulging net of fish out of their boat and nodded to Nara and Tuanne. A group of children running about on the river bank stopped to stare and several cowered at the sight of Flame, hiding behind the legs of their parents.

  “Whisperer!” someone called from the end of one of the jetties. “Hey!”

  Nara spotted a short man wearing a vivid green shirt waving at them from a small, sharp-prowed river boat. He was beaming at them as if they were long-lost friends, but Nara had never seen him before in her life.