Medieval Mars: The Anthology (Terraformed Interplanetary Book 1)

by Travis Perry

  “Are you all right?” Alastair shouted over the sound of the rushing water.

  Waleran nodded.

  “You can’t swim, can you?”

  “I didn’t grow up near water.”

  This was not the time to ask Waleran where he did grow up—but that didn’t stop Alastair from wondering.

  “You fell, too?”

  “No, I jumped down after you.”

  “I told you it was insane to try riding those birds. We’re lucky to be alive.”

  “I knew how risky it was. There was little chance of success.”

  “It was suicidal. How could you not know that—with all that outside wisdom and knowledge you like to flaunt?”

  “I knew it was suicidal—but as I keep trying to tell you—so is this entire mission. We are very unlikely to get out of this jungle alive, to say nothing of achieving our goal.”

  “I can’t accept that you really believe that. You wouldn’t have come with me if that were the case.”

  Waleran looked away. Curse that man!

  The water had slowed significantly now. “It’s lucky this river was here.”

  “I’d prefer to think it was providence, Alastair. It’s the only reason we’ve come as far as we have.”

  “I think this is the same river I saw from up the tree. That means we are likely headed in the right direction.”

  Waleran nodded. “One thing at least, we appear to have managed to get past those tribesmen.”

  “So what now?”

  “We continue to float down the river. It seems to be going our direction.”

  • • •

  They continued to float for over an hour, heading south, before they came around a bend into a larger body of water. Another river from the east joined with theirs to form a larger river.

  “Waleran—look at that.”

  Waleran smiled. “We know the river that we’re now in converged some way back with a smaller stream. And now this third river.”

  “The convergence of three rivers,” Alastair said. “This is the sign we’ve been looking for. The ancient magic must be nearby.”

  They paddled the log to the eastern shore and emerged on shaky legs onto dry ground.

  Alastair’s left arm was tender. He winced slightly as he moved it.

  “You injure yourself when you landed in the water?”

  Alastair nodded.

  “Is it broken?”

  He tested the arm. Though it hurt slightly, it was clearly not broken. “No. I’ll be fine.”

  They walked a few minutes, following the bank of the river before emerging into a large clearing. The ground was littered with red rocks. Was this what the surface of Mars had looked like before humans came here? This was the biggest break from endless trees they’d seen since entering Argyre. Alastair tipped his head backward and drank in the sight of the blue sky. He’d not realized how much he’d missed it.

  Before them, stretching out toward the southeast was a crater. It looked to be around ten meters deep with rocky walls sloping inwards. The converged river ran about the western edge. To the north of the crater, where they stood, was an empty rocky outcropping, which gave way to more jungle. Alastair peered down into the crater. His mouth fell open. “Are those…dragons?”

  Waleran nodded.

  A cluster of giant winged lizards ambled about down in the crater. One of them was chomping down on something. A few meters away two others wrestled. The rest ambled slowly around the crater.

  “When in large groups they like to gather and eat communally.”

  “They’re like the stuff of legend.” Alastair said.

  “They were merely legend. Once. Mankind wanted to remake God’s creatures simply for the amusement of it. The kind of action that typified the arrogance of the Time of Magic. It is no wonder that civilization collapsed.”

  “Will they attack us?”

  Waleran stroked his chin. “It’s rare for them to attack a human unprovoked, but if they feel threatened, they’re more than capable of killing a man. They spit acid.” He turned to face Alastair. “But then I lack firsthand experience with dragons, so I can’t say anything with assurance.”

  Alastair’s fingers touched the hilt of his sword. He surveyed the crater. Somewhere around here must be what they were looking for. Then he spotted a dark splotch. A tunnel? He pointed. “See there. Is that a tunnel or cave?”

  Waleran shielded his eyes from the sun and stared. “I think it may be.”

  “That’s got to be where the artifact is hidden. That’s where I’d hide it. It would be safe from the elements.”

  “If you’re right, then we have a problem, because we’ll have to get past all of those dragons to get to it.”

  Suddenly Waleran snapped around. Alastair turned. “What?” he whispered.

  “Movement. I think I saw someone. Those tribesmen that attacked us before. There are more of them here.

  “Approach!” A distant voice called out. “Bule trespass the lows. Approach!”

  “They’re not even maintaining the conceit of stealth now. They really don’t want us here,” Waleran said. “That says to me this is more than a desire for privacy. They’re protecting something.”

  “The artifact!”

  Waleran nodded. “Probably.” He drew his sword and looked about. “We need to find cover.”

  Leaves rustled behind them. Near the edge of the clearing. Alastair spun about. Three tribesmen approached with bows ready to shoot.

  He turned back the other way. The same. They were surrounded.

  • • •

  Alastair raised his arms in the air. That was a fairly universal sign of surrender and peace, wasn’t it? Would the tribesmen recognize it?

  “We mean you no harm,” he said with as much confidence and gentleness as he could muster. “We want no conflict with your people. We are here on a mission of peace.”

  One of the tribesmen stepped forward. The other twenty or so all kept their bows trained on Alastair and Waleran. Their skin was tinged yellow. The shape of their eyes was different—tighter. They wore elaborate clothing woven from animal hides, but dyed in many different colors. The effect made them look almost royal.

  “Be silent, Bule. You enter the Argyre Jungle. You intrude on our sacred basin. Why?”

  Alastair swallowed. “We seek a magical artifact we believe was hidden here long ago.”

  The tribesmen gasped as one. Their spokesman frowned. “The Harta Karun are not for you. They are for the days after in the age to come.”

  “You know of the…the Harta Karun?”

  “We are tasked to protect them. No soul may touch them until the time comes.”

  “Please. The woman I love is under a powerful curse. I believe the magic of one of your Harta Karun could save her life.”

  “Our commiseration rests on you, but you may not have the Harta Karun. Many generations behind, the bringer came to this place. He entrusted our forebears to keep them safe. The age was falling and souls were forgetting. The Harta Karun are to remain undisturbed until the age to come when souls will once again understand how to use them wisely.”

  “These Harta Karun,” Waleran said. “They are dangerous?”

  “They are vulnerable, and they are precious.”

  “There must be some way we can come to a mutual understanding.”

  “No understanding,” The spokesman bellowed. “Those who disturb the Harta Karun will expire. If you leave this jungle, we will permit you life.”

  So that was it, then. There was nothing more to say.

  “Komodo!” One of the tribesmen shouted.

  Alastair spun around. A dragon alighted on the edge of the crater wall, vast leathery wings creating an unnatural breeze. The tribesmen in front of Alastair—the closest to the dragon—fell into a panic. They turned their bows on the beast. Several of them let their arrows fly. The dragon snarled, and with a loud hiss spat its acid in their direction.

  Waleran whipped his swo
rd out and thrust his elbow into the shoulder of the closest tribesman behind him. Seizing the distraction, Alastair did likewise. There were three remaining warriors to contend with. With the distance closed between them, they could not use their bows as effective weapons. Fantastic! The tribesmen drew long, elaborate daggers with wavy blades from their belts. Alastair’s smile dropped. Remembering his training, he stood ready. The first attack came from his opponent. He parried the blow, and then used the force to make an attack of his own.

  The tribesman was barely a better swordsman than Alastair. Clearly bows were their favored weapon. A few blows later, Alastair struck the man’s hand and disarmed him. Alastair gazed into the man’s eyes. They held fear. He swallowed. This was the hard part. Could he really kill a man? The fearful eyes of his opponent turned resolute.He’s seen my hesitation. Alastair gave the man a blow to the side of the head with the flat of his sword. The tribesman collapsed.

  Waleran was fighting two men at once. Alastair charged one of them. Seconds later, Waleran stabbed his opponent through the gut, then, pulling his sword back out with a sickening thuck, he slashed the throat of Alastair’s opponent.

  “Quick, we have to find safety,” Waleran said.

  They ran north toward the denser cover of jungle. It was mere steps away.

  Waleran stumbled. Alastair grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet. They were in the cover.

  In the distance, a squat tree oozed out of the ground. Its trunk twisted unnaturally. Misshapen protrusions covered it as though the tree had melted and re-set out of shape. Its roots spread along the ground like fins. The tree could be a good hiding place. He ran for it. Waleran stumbled behind him.

  “Waleran?” Alastair’s veins flooded with ice.

  Waleran pulled his hand away from his side. It was slick with blood.

  Lynessa’s Curse: Chapter 4

  Alastair vaulted over the fin-like tree root and ducked behind it. At the base of the trunk was a little hollow. It would make a good hiding pace. He helped Waleran stumble into the hollow and sat him on the ground.

  There was still nobody in sight. He ducked back behind the root and shimmied into the hiding place. Then he rummaged through Waleran’s pack for linen bandages. He tied one around Waleran’s middle. There was a lot of blood. The dagger must have gone in deep. The bandage was holding, but already staining red. Waleran’s face was pale.

  Alastair placed Waleran’s hand on the bandage. “You’re bleeding badly. I’d try applying some pressure,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help back there.”

  Waleran shook his head. “You took out an opponent without assistance. You did well.”

  “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Waleran. If you’d stayed at the manor, you’d be fine.”

  “You didn’t drag me, Alastair. I volunteered. I convinced Lord Gareth to let us go.”

  “Why did you do that? You knew the dangers we would face. How did you convince him?”

  Waleran sighed. “I was once a rider, but I disgraced myself by breaking the code. I was cast out of the ranks by my govnor, forced to wander alone.”

  A rider? It all made sense now. “That’s why you have such fighting ability and knowledge.”

  “The fighting ability, yes. As for the knowledge, you remember Healer Branwyn spoke of Madam Susan?”

  Alastair nodded.

  “I studied at her feet for a time. In any case, long after leaving the borders of my govment, I eventually found Garibaldi Manor. Lord Gareth hired me as a hand. One time I helped defend him from bandits when he was traveling. He said he owed me a favor some day. This was me collecting that favor.”

  Alastair’s mouth dropped. “You used that favor to help me break Lynessa’s curse? Why?”

  “I saw something good in the two of you. Two kind people, who deserve to be happy, pulled apart by tragedy. I couldn’t let that happen. This is my chance to make up for my past mistakes.”

  Alastair’s gaze fell to the ground. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Thank me by completing the quest.”

  Alastair shook his head. “I don’t think I can. Enemies oppose us, dragons nest near the mouth of the tunnel, and we don’t even know for sure that the tunnel holds what we’re looking for. You’re mortally wounded. All this time I’ve been trying to ready myself so I could complete this quest alone, but the truth is I can’t. I don’t have the skills or the ability, and now I have nobody to help me.”

  Waleran shook his head. “You may be ill equipped to do this alone, Alastair, but you don’t have to. Go in the strength of Jesu. He is by your side even now.”

  Alastair scowled. “I will not seek the help of the one who cursed my beloved.”

  Waleran sighed. “Oh, Alastair. Lynessa isn’t cursed. What you call the curse is just a sickness.”

  “Whatever it is, Lynessa has done nothing to deserve it.”

  “The things we suffer in life are not earned because of things we’ve done. Her sickness is a tragedy, but it’s not a punishment.”

  “Pastor Bryan would disagree with you. What makes him wrong and you right?”

  “Do you remember a story from Scripture when Jesu healed a blind man?”

  “Didn’t he supposedly heal several blind men?”

  “In this situation the people asked him whether the man was blind because of his own sins, or the sins of his parents. They thought the blindness was a punishment from God. Jesu corrected them. He told them the blindness was not a response to any sin. It was so that God could be glorified.”

  Alastair crossed his arms. “And you think the same is true of Lynessa?”

  “Jesu died in our place, Alastair. He took the punishment. If God were punishing Lynessa with this sickness, then what did Jesu die for?”

  Alastair frowned. Perhaps there might be something to what he said.

  “You have an opportunity right here, maybe a God-given opportunity. The dragon has frightened away the tribesmen, but it won’t be long before they return. They are dedicated to the cause of protecting the Harta Karun. Go now before they return. Go with God and complete this quest, for Lynessa’s sake, and for mine. If I am to die here, let it not be for nothing.”

  Alastair gritted his teeth and placed a hand on Waleran’s shoulder. “Kay, my friend. I’ll go, and maybe I’ll find something that can help heal you as well.”

  He stood, took another quick glance out of their hiding place, and then ran out back toward the crater.

  • • •

  The way was clear to the edge of the crater. In the distance, several tribesmen struggled with an advancing dragon. On the crater floor, four dragons remained. One of them was chomping while another seemed engaged in the effort of swallowing. To reach the tunnel where the artifacts were likely to be, Alastair would practically have to step on two of the dragon’s tails. They were that close.

  A shout of victory wafted on the wind. Alastair turned back in the direction of the minuscule tribesmen. They waved their arms above their heads, and the dragon staggered backward. It would soon be dead, and then they’d turn their attentions back toward him. If he was going to slip into the crater, now was the time.

  He gripped the hilt of his sword. He couldn’t kill even one dragon. He was a farmer, not a warrior. There was no way to sneak past them. They were stationary but wide awake.

  Go now with God and complete this quest. Waleran’s words echoed in his mind. Defeating those dragons alone was impossible. He closed his eyes.

  Lord Jesu, I know I doubted you, but help me trust you now. Help me save Lynessa!

  Was that prayer sufficient? It was all he had. Alastair opened his eyes. Right in his field of vision sat several boulders. They were almost directly above the dragons. Alastair’s mouth dropped. All they needed was a little prying and they’d fall down in the midst of the beasts. The dragons would be distracted. They’d probably flee. This was his chance. Alastair smiled. He took one last glance at the tribesmen. The dragon they were atta
cking was in its death throes.

  He dashed forward, skirting the edge of the crater by the riverbank. It was time to end this.

  • • •

  Alastair’s foot slipped underneath him. He grabbed for a handhold and found a strong reed. One of the dragons turned its head to look his way and then turned back again. The boulders weren’t far away now. Just a little closer. He took a moment to catch his breath and then continued on. When he reached the boulders, the dragons were still resting lazily. What had driven the one that had attacked earlier to move? He’d probably never know.

  Alastair gave the boulder a gentle push. It budged, but only slightly. He leaned against the rock face and pushed his leg with all his strength against the boulder. Nothing.

  What he really needed was a lever of some kind to help pry the rocks loose. He glanced at the sword hanging from his hip. This was going to be no way to treat a weapon, but what choice did he have? He drew his sword and plunged the tip down between the boulder and the wall of the crater as far as it would go. Then bracing himself, he pushed with all he had. Something was shifting. Creak. Crack. Then the sword bent and twisted. Alastair lunged forward. His face hit the gravel. He picked up the bent sword. Useless! But the boulder looked loose. He tried another hard push with his foot and it began to fall.

  The jungle echoed with rumbles and cracks as the boulder crashed onto the crater floor, splitting into smaller pieces and followed by several smaller rocks.

  The dragons jerked into action. They flapped their wings and took to the sky, circling each other and hissing. This was his chance!

  Alastair dropped down to the level of the tunnel entrance and plunged in. He’d made it!

  • • •