They were all silent for a beat, then Lerica said, “I’ll do it. I’ll do it and walk away without regret — I’ll do anything you want to these slaves.”
Thurlun smiled at her. “Nice try, honey, but you’re a fighter, not a killer. And this is between Candy and me.” He turned back to Aiyan.
Kyric looked at Lerica. She believed what she was saying, but he felt the lie. She was lying to herself.
Aiyan touched the slave on the arm. ‘Go in peace,’ he said-signed.
“I knew that would be your first move, Candy,” said Thurlun. “So here’s my next one.” He nodded to Harlon. “Take the youngsters and put them to work hauling net. Treat them like slaves, but no shackles for now. You may yet be working alongside them.”
He took Kyric and Lerica aside before handing them to Harlon. “Let me explain something to you,” he said quietly, deadly serious. “The two of you are the stakes in this game. So if either or both of you run, it will ruin my good time and I’ll simply kill whoever is left. Do you understand?”
The look in his eye said that he meant it. “Yes,” Kyric said.
Thurlun looked at the man Aiyan had knocked out the day before. “Why haven’t you started your patrol, Snaker?” Under Thurlun’s glare, Snaker left camp at the double.
Aiyan cleared his throat. “I ask one favor. I would like to have my locket. It is the emblem of my knighthood, and it is important to me.”
Thurlun ignored him, walking back to the huts mumbling something unintelligible, and Kyric wondered how much time he had spent trying to open Aiyan’s locket the night before.
Harlon took them to the river where Ral directed the men laying net, then took his post as the overseer of the pickers. The two in the dingy moved hesitantly. Ral only knew a few signs in Cor’el and it took some time to get started. He thrust his pike into the water beneath the bank to make sure no crocodiles lay in ambush there. Kyric could see at least a dozen lying low near the opposite bank.
The net was long. They anchored one end of it to a tree and payed-out the rest as the dingy men steered a wide circle that went uncomfortably close to the crocodiles on the other side of the river. There were six other haulers along with them. They placed Kyric and Lerica at the back of the line, which seemed to Kyric the safest place.
The first ray out of the water was a female, with its thick swollen halo. Two of the pickers hooked it and tried to drag it out of the net, but its stinger had a serrated edge that caught rather well. Ral called to a man with long iron tongs. The tong man tried to pick the stinger out of the net while the ray flapped and sprayed its poisonous secretion. The greenish-white fluid got all over his tongs. One drop landed on his hand.
He threw down the tongs at once and tore a broad leaf from a shrub, wiping away the poison quickly. Several buckets of river water sat evenly spaced in the fishing area, and now Kyric saw what they were for. The tong man ran to one and washed his hand over and over.
They finally got the creature out of the net, and the three pickers half carried, half dragged it up the bank to the tables. It was wider than a man’s arm-span and very strong. The three men could hardly control it. Its stinger tail whipped and jabbed, searching for someone who had come a little too close. Its wing fins flapping frantically, its slick glossy skin oozing more and more venom as they went.
There were lakka in the net, and they, with all the male rays, were thrown back into the river, but not without hazard. The lakka were some kind of prehistoric fish, and aptly named, as their heads were little more than a seven-inch jaw lined with razor teeth. They flexed like slippery steel springs as they were picked off the net, snapping at everything.
Dragging a laden net ashore proved hard work, but they got momentary rests when the pickers had to stop and untangle a ray. They had to take care where they gripped the net, as the ray secretion dripped from it in places. It was hot and steamy by mid-morning, and they began to sweat freely. Kyric might have taken his shirt off in another place, but here it felt like armor. He was glad Lerica had worn her buckskin breeches; he didn’t think the poison would easily soak through them.
Noontime came and went with only a brief stop for a drink of water. Shortly after noon they hauled-in a particularly big female. When the first picker hooked it on the wing fin and began to lift it, it jolted and flapped much more violently than the others had, tearing out the hook and turning upside down, flipping in the air, landing full body on the first net hauler. The pickers leaped in and secured the creature at once, but the hauler was covered in the greenish-white ooze.
He stood stunned for a brief instance, then jumped into the river, pawing wildly at his chest and legs. He chittered and called in the Ilven tongue, then suddenly he was calm. He stood there for a minute, his skin getting a purple tint to it. His eyes stayed open as he drifted backward and slipped under the water.
Thurlun came running from the huts, pointing to the pickers. ‘Get him out of there! Hurry!’ he said-signed. He turned to Ral. “We lost two pairs of shackles yesterday. Can’t afford to lose another pair.”
The pickers stood at the very edge of the river and worked the body towards the bank with their poles. They were careful not to hook his flesh. On the opposite bank, a crocodile slid into the river.
Guppy arrived shortly, hammer and chisel in his belt, toting the thick iron plate that he used as a portable anvil. It took him a few minutes to cut the tails off the rivets and remove the shackles.
“It’s a blessing when they get done over like that,” said Ral, to no one in particular. “They go fast and don’t suffer. Much better than lingering for hours in agony. You have to say that that was a good death.”
“Alright,” said Thurlun, “throw the stiff on the cart and get back to work.”
They watched as the Terrulans carried the body up to the tables where a two-wheeled cart sat. It was piled high with dead rays, and they had to jam their dead friend between the carcasses and the side wall of the cart.
Lerica leaned close to Kyric. “We have to get out of here,” she whispered. “Tonight.”
“You have an idea?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll tell you after supper.”
It was less than an hour later when they heard screaming from the tables. One of the younger woman lay on the ground thrashing. A couple of men were trying to pin her while the others poured buckets of water over her face.
“It’s nothing that concerns you,” said Ral. “Keep hauling.”
When at last the day was done, and they stood waiting to cross back to the island, Kyric tried to sign with Aiyan on the sly. Aiyan still sat motionless on the stump.
‘What is the plan?’ he signed. ‘What should we do?’
Aiyan didn’t respond right away. He seemed deep in thought. Finally he made two simple gestures. ‘Stay alive.’
“Perhaps he means to wait until your uncle comes looking for us,” Kyric said. “Surely he will.” His stomach felt bad. He tried to belch. Fillet of angel ray hadn’t tasted so good that night.
“We could all be dead by then,” Lerica said softly, as if the Ilven could understand her. “Delays happen all the time in the shipping business. And even if we did wait and Uncle Ellec tracked us here, he would be looking for us to be lost or injured and wouldn’t bring many men. He could be killed by one of those traps, or end up as a slave himself.”
Somewhere in the darkness, the young woman stopped crying. She was the one who had been sprayed in the face at the tables. He had gone over to see about her after supper. A fellow hauler had explained that sometimes the poison came out in a jet when they cut the halos off. The woman had been in great pain, often retching in an attempt to vomit, but nothing would come up. Kyric wondered if she had died.
“I’ve been thinking,” Lerica said, “that if I could get across the moat, I could sneak into the tool shed and use their own tools to get Aiyan out of his manacle, like they did with the dead guy today.”
He shrugged. “Banging on a chisel would
make noise.”
“They might have other tools. Maybe a hacksaw.”
“Might work,” Kyric said. He thought for a moment. “If we could get Aiyan’s sword and locket to him he could break his chain in one stroke.”
“What’s in the locket, vials of acid?”
“Something better. And once done we could take all these slavers prisoner, or get away at the very least.”
The moon had begun to rise, and she shuddered with a chill, even though the night was warm. “Here it comes,” she said.
He cocked his head. “Are you one of those people who get a little wild when the moon is full?”
“You have no idea,” she whispered under her breath.
She rose straight to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest. She bounced nervously on one foot.
“Have you noticed that they only raise the drawbridge about halfway up?” she said. “It overhangs the water quite a bit. I’m pretty sure I could make the leap.”
“You’re out of your mind. You would have to jump twice your own height.”
“On this night, I can do it.”
“There’s no need,” he said. “We can just swim it. I doubt that there’s really crocodiles waiting at every shore.”
Lerica went to the cooking table and returned with a handful of fish. She tiptoed to the edge of the island where the bridge touched down and tossed it in the water. Nothing happen at first, then there was a sharp splash as something large lunged in the dark.
She leapt back from the edge. “Damn, that was a big one.” She pulled him away as well. “With the way they dumped all the rays and that body in the swamp today, it’s little wonder that the crocs are all around this island.”
Kyric stood still, trying to think. All around the central group of trees, the Ilven had bedded down. They were all going to the dream tree and the villages below. He wondered what they did there. Did they live a separate life, with their families all together, perhaps spending time with those who had passed from this life? Would the young woman who had just died be there? He found himself wishing to go with them.
Lerica took a few steps back and kicked her boots off. “I guess we go with my plan then.”
Before Kyric could say anything, she broke into a sprint, her pigtail whipping wildly behind her. She ran to the edge, springing off both feet, leaping high, and arcing higher. Kyric’s mouth fell open.
High as she jumped, it looked that she would fall short, but she stretched with one hand, catching the lip of the bridge with her fingers. Impossibly, she swung there for a moment, then reached up with her other hand, pulling herself up to her armpits. From there she somehow got one foot up and was able to stand. She crouched there, not even breathing hard.
“You need to wait,” he called to her softly. “I see lights at the huts — they’re not all asleep yet.”
“No,” she said. “This is the best time. The moon shadows are still long and easy to hide in, and with the guards talking and making noise they’ll never hear me.”
“Lerica,” he said, but she had already shimmied up the rope holding the bridge.
Across the water he could see Aiyan sitting on the ground, leaning against the stump with his head on his chest. She crept carefully down the tree and dashed across the open ground to him, ducking into the shadow of the stump, becoming nearly invisible.
Aiyan sat up, and they seemed to have a brief discussion. Then she moved on toward the huts, going tree to tree, slipping from one shadow to the next. She crouched so low as she went, that in the dark she could have been a jungle cat.
He lost sight of her. One of the lights at the huts went out. That was good, he thought.
The minutes became long. The sounds of the night fell hushed all of a sudden. Then the clang of a bell. A shout, then another. A flash and the loud crack of a gunshot.”
Aiyan stood and shouted, “Jaguar! There’s a jaguar in the camp!”
A black streak ran past him in a blur, up the steep angle of the drawbridge without slowing, and leapt from its height, legs churning as if she could run upon the air. She tucked and rolled as she landed, sliding to a halt in a tangle of tall grass.
She rolled onto her stomach and beat the ground with her fists. “Dammit! Dammit! Son of a whore’s dog.”
Kyric knelt down next to her. “Are you alright? What happened?”
She sat up. “I stepped,” she said between breaths, “I stepped on something in the tool shed that rang a bell. I was careful. I thought there might be a sentry, so I was going slow and watching every shadow. I just didn’t see it.”
“It was dark, how could you?”
She clawed the dirt in frustration. “When the moon is up I can see in the dark like it’s daylight. I should have seen it.”
Low voices drifted across the water. Near the huts, men with lanterns wove among the trees. The lights flickered and danced like giant fireflies.
“I should have gone the other way — I could have made it to Dorigano’s house and back before sunrise. I could have. They wouldn’t have been the wiser.” She punched herself in the leg.
“That could have easily gone wrong too. Don’t forget that it was broad daylight when you got caught the first time. Bad consequences for us if it had happened again.”
“Then I should have waited like you said. I might have got Aiyan’s locket if I had waited for them to go to sleep.” She clutched her head in both hands, rocking back and forth. “Gods, why am I so stupid?”
He waited until she stopped. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“Hey,” she said, looking up, “I could wait now and go back in a few hours when they really are asleep.”
He shook his head. “I just saw one of them climbing up to the sharpshooter’s platform by the huts. They’re going to keep watch the rest of the night — jaguar in camp, you know.” He tried to smile.
“Then what are we to do? I don’t think Aiyan can get us out of this.”
“They might not keep watch tomorrow night. Maybe you can try again.”
She clutched at the empty air. “I won’t be able to make the leap tomorrow,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “It has to be tonight.”
“Then I’ll go tomorrow. With a running start I can jump halfway across the moat, then it’s three strokes to the other side. I’ll only be in the water a few seconds.”
She made a face. “And we all know that people are much more agile in the water than crocodiles. Just ask the Ilven.”
The moon had climbed halfway up the eastern sky, and a night breeze rustled the grass. Her gaze softened. “You really are brave, aren’t you?” she said.
“No, you are. You risked your life making that jump.”
“I’m not brave,” she said seriously. “I’m simply not afraid of anything. I can’t help it; I was born that way. That’s stupidity, not bravery.”
He touched her lightly on the hand. “I think you’re amazing.”
She leaned forward, the moon in her eyes. Then suddenly she was kissing him on the lips and the neck. He kissed her behind the ear and found her lips again. Her tongue gently searched for his. She pulled him down into the grass, rolling to lay on top of him.
She pressed against him more urgently, biting him on the neck as she lifted her hips, fumbling with his belt.
A passing thought warned him that this was strange, that she was not herself this night. “Are you sure?” he gasped, “I mean, I want to and everything, but — “
“Shut up,” she whispered, trying to pull down his breeches and hers at the same time.
He locked lips with her again, her tongue so warm and wet and sweet that all rational thought bled away and he fell headlong into the promise of her flesh.
“Hey!” came a shout from across the moat. “Get up and show yourselves!” It was Thurlun, with Harlon and Guppy. Kyric and Lerica lay still in the grass.
“Come on kids, I know you’re not asleep and I’m not fooling. Get over here.”
They h
eard the squeal of the drawbridge being lowered. “We had better do as he says,” Kyric said.
They pulled up their trousers, rising from the grass. Kyric tucked his shirt in and Lerica fetched her boots. The bridge thudded down, but none of the Ilven even stirred. They were still in the dream.
Thurlun beckoned to them. “Come across, and be quick.”
He raised a lantern high as they crossed the bridge. Harlon circled them with another lantern, patting them on the legs, feeling their clothes and hair.
“They’re as dry as I am, Colonel,” he said. “Neither one has been in the water tonight.”
Thurlun held his lantern low, staring at the ground. “We’ll look for more tracks when it’s light,” he mumbled. “Was probably just a jaguar. Send them back.” He started to walk away, then turned back to Guppy. “And start raising that bridge higher at night. We don’t want anything to leap across and get at the slaves.”
An hour passed before the camp was quiet again, one of the guards on watch in the tree above the huts. Lerica paced restlessly in the moon shadow of a cypress, occasionally glancing at the drawbridge, now several feet higher. At length, Kyric went to her and said, “I’m going to try to get some rest. You should do the same. If we let ourselves get worn down we won’t have the strength to escape.”
She stopped, and a dapple of moonlight fell across her face. He saw something behind her eye, the reflection of another eye looking out through it. He blinked and it was gone.
“I’ll be alright,” she said.
He went back to the grass and lay down, but he couldn’t sleep. He watched the moon rise high and swing towards the west, passing behind a cloud. Then Lerica came tiptoeing silently, curling up next to him, and at last he slept.
She wasn’t there when he woke. The sun was up and the Ilven were already queuing for the bridge. He hadn’t heard the bell.
He caught up with Lerica at the end of the line. “I let you sleep,” she said, handing him cold fish in a folded leaf. “Here’s your breakfast.”
He held on to her hand as he took the fish. “Lerica,” he said.
The Hidden Fire (Book 2) Page 9
