Western Shore ac-3

by Juliet E. McKenna

  'Can you see anyone who might be a mage?' whispered Risala.

  'No,' Kheda replied softly, 'but I can't see much at this distance.'

  The wild men moved across the lengthening black scars burned into the grassy plain, billows of smoke swirling around them.

  What are they hunting?

  As he wondered, a great cry went up. The wild men ran after some creature racing towards some illusory sanctuary of unburned grass. Clubs swept back and smashed down. Arms raising long spears thrust hard into the melee.

  Whatever it is, it's fighting back.

  Kheda saw men reeling away from the fray. As the wind twisted to carry the sounds of battle over the grasses, wordless cries of passion and determination mingled with a tearing sound somewhere between a hiss and a screech.

  The group of wild men suddenly broke apart with cries of anguish. Something came racing through the dense grasses, charging through the barrier of the flames. One of the savages who'd been tending the fires tried to intercept whatever it was, a spear raised high above his head. Whatever it was bowled him over, flinging him up so high that his bare legs spun higher than his head before he crashed back down to the ground. Then whatever it was attacked the hapless hunter where he lay. The grasses thrashed violently as his gurgling despair was lost beneath that eerie tearing screech.

  Kheda drew his sword and took firm hold of Risala's wrist with his other hand. 'If it comes this way, we just get out of its path.' He could feel her trembling, her skin slick with sweat.

  As the hunters raced to their fallen comrade, shouting and waving their spears, the unseen creature fled. It came running towards Kheda and Risala, the thud of its feet

  breaking through the frenzied rustle of the grass. As it burst out onto the narrow track a perilously short distance away, it froze, staring at them. It was a lizard, as long as a tall man from its blunt nose to the end of its heavy tail. Its head and back were armoured with solid yellow-brown scales, with still thicker scales running down the length of its body to make black horny ridges. Its lashing tail was flattened from top to bottom and saw-edged with vicious plates stained with blood and dirt. Digging its clawed feet into the parched earth, it hissed, a bubbling sound with its jaw gaping. Kheda saw speckled yellow skin inside its maw and stained white teeth, stubby and broad. Strands of dirty green drool hung from the corners of its wide mouth.

  Not a whip lizard. I've never seen anything like it.

  Kheda kept Risala behind him and held his sword low and ready, the braided silk binding the hilt drawing the sweat from his palm.

  The creature hissed again and lurched away from them, crashing through the brittle grasses on wide-splayed legs as it headed towards the river.

  'Kheda.' Risala resheathed the blade she had half-drawn and shook his shoulder urgently as he was still trying to see where the lizard had gone.

  He looked back to see the savages gathering together, beating out their fires. Some bent over prey or casualties; others were gesturing and shouting self-importantly. A few were standing idle, leaning on spears or resting their clubs over their shoulders. Torn by the breeze, their quarrelsome words were unintelligible.

  Kheda crouched as low as he could while still keeping a clear view of the hunters. 'We don't move until they do.' He smiled at Risala and passed her the water flask. As she took it, he saw more fear in her eyes than he would have expected.

  Eventually the wild men moved off, some carrying dead

  animals slung over their shoulders, others with larger prey lashed to spears borne between two or four men.

  Kheda noticed that several wounded were being left to make their way along as best they could, limping, using their spears as props.

  No one's gone to see what's become of that man who fell foul of that lizard. Which is a relief because they'd come too close to us for comfort if they did. I just hope he's quite dead before any scavengers get the scent of blood.

  All the same, the thought of abandoning even an unknown wild man to bleed out his life in the desolate grasses left a sour taste in Kheda's mouth. He couldn't help thinking of his modest physic chest back on the Zaise.

  But there's probably nothing I could do for him. Even if I could, we'd either have to take him prisoner or risk him betraying our presence here. Besides, he's a savage. These people showed no mercy in Chazen.

  The words nevertheless rang hollow inside his head.

  'Where are they going?' Risala stood a little straighter.

  'Over towards the trees.' Kheda watched the ragged column head for the greenery rising up the sides of this broad, shallow valley.

  'What do we do now?' She glanced back towards the river.

  'We'll follow them, just for a little while.' Kheda looked after the wild men. 'Let's cut across to the tree line before they do. We'll be harder to see against the shadows there.'

  That was easier said than done, as the tussocks grew thicker and more densely packed away from the river bank. Kheda used his sword to cut at the stubborn grass and the blades retaliated by slicing fine cuts into his hands and forearms that instantly swelled and stung. Finally the clumps began to thin as the land rose up. A band of barren

  earth where the grasses ended soon yielded to tangles of sprawling spiny plants with fleshy yellowing leaves. Beyond, contorted grey trees ran away up the steepening slope, their pale blotchy branches fringed with coarse little leaves.

  Kheda crouched in the edge of the grasses and poured a little of their precious water over the shallow oozing cuts that were now tormenting him.

  Risala waved away tiny black flies hovering greedily. 'Are you all right?' she asked with some alarm.

  'I think so.' Kheda paused to contemplate the possibility that the grasses might have poisoned him.

  No fever or chills or tremors. It just cursed stings.

  He fought the urge to scratch at the red scores on his thighs and calves and looked at Risala's bare legs. She showed fewer marks but the inflammation was more marked on her lighter skin. 'How about you?'

  'As long as the itching stops soon, I'll be fine,' she said through gritted teeth. 'Where are the savages?'

  Kheda moved cautiously out into the barren expanse just short of the tangled plants and twisted trees and looked inland. 'They're still fighting their way through the grasses.'

  Burdened with game and wounded, the wild men were making slow progress through the dense growth.

  'They must have hides like water oxen,' Risala muttered, blowing to cool a swollen scrape on the tender inside of her forearm.

  'Let's keep a good way back.' Kheda watched the slowly moving hunters for a moment, then searched the curious undergrowth between the unknown spindly trees for any plants he recognised.

  If this was the Archipelago, I'd guess that spiky cluster was some variant of leatherspear. Sap from that would soothe these cursed cuts. But I've never seen leatherspear tainted with

  purple like that. I could kill us both with ignorance and the best of intentions,

  'Kheda,' Risala said warningly.

  Refocusing his attention further afield, he saw that the hunters were emerging from the grassland to disappear down the barren strip along the edge of the outlandish trees. They were moving fast now. He saw some carrying a single unknown bird or a lesser lizard breaking into a run. Even those burdened with greater animals were hurrying as best they could. The wounded were left to make their own way, their able-bodied companions deserting them.

  'Savages,' Risala muttered contemptuously at Kheda's side. The two of them slowed, wary of getting too close to the struggling men.

  'They're scared of something in the woods.' Kheda saw the wild men glancing fearfully into the shadows with every second or third step.

  'So why not stay out on the plain?' Risala's hand went to her dagger.

  'Where those great lizards are lurking?' Kheda glanced at the impenetrable wall of grass waving idly in the breeze.

  Cautiously, Kheda and Risala followed the wounded savages making
their best speed along the open ground. He held his sword ready, alert. She had her hacking blade bared, moving along close by his open side.

  I'd rather be doing this in a decent suit of armour, regardless of the heat. How far away from the ship are we now? How far are we going to go before we turn back? How long have we been creeping along like this? Will Velindre scry for us and snatch us back with some wizardry before we 've learned anything of real use?

  They went on still further as the edge of the twisted woodland curved away from what Kheda could recall of the river's winding course. They rounded a thicker clump

  of the contorted trees and Risala froze. Kheda stopped dead with her and, crouching low, close together, they retreated into the shielding grasses.

  A finger of low ground thrust between low hills just ahead, choked with dense tussocks of yellow grass. Beyond, the land swept steeply upwards and an irregular outcrop of pale stone reared up through the strange woodland. Caves pierced the whole face of the rock, black against the variegated stone. Ropes and notched tree trunks offered access to the upper levels where women and children looked out anxiously. Figures armed with spears stood by the lowest entrances where a single broad fire burned low in a hollow scraped across the mouth of the largest cave. A little way down the slope, a substantial screen of branches snapped from the twisted grey trees shielded the half-circle of earth that had been cleared around the rock's base. The barbed leaves of the fleshy yellow-green plants were piled high around the branches.

  The wild hunters hurried towards this sanctuary. A strange clattering rang through the woods. Some of the wild men froze, raising their clubs and spears. Kheda caught a flash of movement deep among the contorted trees. Spurred on by the sight, the savages ran as fast as they could, a few dropping their burdens in the dust. Dead fowls' wings fluttered for a moment then lay still. Now left far behind, the wounded huddled together, steps laboured as they pressed desperately on.

  Kheda saw movement again, closer to the margins of the trees, and unexpectedly vivid blues and greens. Sinister chattering echoed back and forth, louder and more menacing. Wild men emerged from the lower caves and lit brands of wood tipped with grass clotted with some kind of resin from the fire pit. They advanced outwards in a slow line, spears lofted at shoulder height, torches held out before them, looking in all directions.

  'Can you see a wild wizard?' Risala crouched lower in the grass.

  'I don't believe so.' Kheda was torn between fear of being spotted and his increasing desire to see what was going on more clearly.

  The first of the hunters now had to cross the narrow expanse of grass that separated the stretch of woodland edging the valley from the shelter of the rocky outcrop. For the first time, Kheda saw that the wild men were labouring under the weight of several dead horn-plated lizards slung on spears carried between them. Those who hadn't abandoned their lesser burdens of smaller lizards or ungainly fowls clustered close, clubs and spears raised. Some were staring intently into the denser trees on either side of the rocky outcrop, others looking behind.

  The men who had come out of the caves with their own spears and burning brands advanced to the crude barrier defending the outcrop. Kheda saw some using sticks to drag away the thick clumps of fat, spiny leaves and clear paths through the piles of branches. The rest held their spears ready.

  Hollow chattering rang through the trees, pierced by screeches from the grasses separating the hunters from the sanctuary of their caves. The blood-curdling shrieks were so loud as to be painful, freezing the breath in Kheda's throat. Then, his hands clapped to his ears, he stared, discomfort forgotten in his astonishment.

  Birds had been crouching hidden in the stands of dry grass. They stood up, as tall as a man or taller, with dark-blue plumage that shaded to vibrant green on the tips of their wings and tails. They bent long necks low, opening menacing black beaks, viciously curved. The red of their thick tongues was shockingly vivid as they screeched both at the hesitating hunters and at the men waving firebrands by the cave's makeshift defences. More birds appeared

  between the twisted trees, stalking forward on long, pale, scaly legs, vicious talons clawing at the ground. They answered the rest of their flock, which had been lurking silently in the long grass, ear-splitting cries echoing back from the rock face.

  The men with the firebrands shouted defiance at the birds and urged the hunting party on. Pressing still closer together, the hunters advanced into the narrow band of grasses. One of the monstrous fowl ran forward, bating wings that Kheda couldn't imagine ever lifting such a massive bird into flight. One of the savages flung a spear that the bird dodged nimbly. It raised a crest of blue-black feathers, vicious beak gaping, head questing forward. More emerged from the sere grasses. Some were as large as the first one, others smaller, without crests or the emerald flashes that the biggest birds were now displaying on their flailing wingtips.

  The hunters were outnumbered. The monstrous birds blocked their way and menaced the men resolutely holding open the paths through the barrier of tree branches and spiny plants. The savages with the firebrands moved slowly outwards from the rock face to the outer edge of their defences, extending their line as far as they dared without opening up too wide a gap between any two men. The birds closest chattered angrily, ferocious heads rearing back from the flames.

  Those birds that had lurked in the trees stalked forward to press ever closer to the men burdened with the precious proceeds of the hunt. Without fire to deter them, they snapped boldly at the spears and clubs that were thrust out against them. One fastened its lethal beak on a wooden shaft, splintering it as it ripped it out of die wild man's hand. It gripped the hardwood stave in one clawed foot, flapping its wings to balance itself as it bit clean through the spear and flung the shards away with a toss of its crest.

  Another one darted forward and the wild man it menaced threw the mottled red lizard he was carrying full at its face. The great bird plucked the dead lizard out of the air and wheeled away. It had to lift its booty as high as it could to escape the mob of lesser birds that instantly surrounded it. Screeching their desire for the meat, they jumped up and down with their futile wings flapping.

  Closer at hand, a man screamed in terrible anguish. Kheda realised that some of the smaller birds had stayed creeping along the edge of the trees. Heads low and noisy cries stilled, their blank black eyes were intent on the wounded men straggling along behind the hunters. One had sprung forward and seized a limping man by the shoulder, its hooked beak digging deep into his brown skin. The savage hammered at the massive bird with his fists, writhing in agony. He made no impression on the thick glossy feathers as the bird lifted one brutal foot and disembowelled him with a single stroke of its claws.

  Risala hid her face in Kheda's shoulder as more of the smaller birds slaughtered the wounded. He held her close, swallowing bile as he forced himself to watch. The birds bent to feed, jostling, their eerily soft cries of satisfaction muted as they crammed their beaks full. One tossed its head back to swallow some unidentifiable lump. Another daintily used beak and feet to sever an all too identifiable hand from a bleeding arm. Their pale, scaly legs were soon covered with splashes of crimson darkening to black.

  Nauseated, Kheda looked past the feasting birds to the hunters still trying to force their way to safety with their precious meat. The vanguard with blazing branches were holding the birds at bay while more men advanced to defend the path through the barrier. Savages high in the upper caves threw rocks and branches, their harsh shouts defying the murderous birds' belligerent screeching. The hunters carrying the heavy lizards hurried towards the

  safety of the caves, dodging through the gauntlet of flame. The rest flung the last of the smaller lizards and fowl away into the tall grass. The heads of the deadly birds whipped around and they sprang after the bait.

  The remaining wounded, unheeded by birds intent on easier kills, crawled and stumbled as fast as they could after the wild hunters who were now shouting encouragem
ent from the shadows of the lowest cave mouth. Some reached the shelter of the spears and firebrands. The last stragglers died beneath the tearing beaks and piercing claws of murderous birds rushing out of the trees. A handful of the able-bodied hunters charged at the birds, brandishing their burning branches, and the monstrous fowl scattered. At a shout from the rest now dragging the spiny clumps of fleshy leaves together again to reinforce the barricade of blotched tree trunks, the hunters hurried back through the single remaining opening. As they retreated into the gloom of the cave mouth, they threw their burning brands down to leave a ring of fire smouldering on the bare earth inside the defences.

  The birds scorned the tangle of branches and spiny leaves with rattling beaks but didn't try to jump the barrier. There was enough food outside to sate them without risking the flames. They bickered less menacingly, tearing chunks of meat apart between themselves as they retreated into the woods. As their noise lessened, Kheda could hear wailing coming from deep in the caves.

  There are women and children in there. Do these wild men always risk such losses, for the sake of feeding their families? Why don't they burn that grassy dip to ashes, to deprive those birds of cover? Because they dare not set afire that could rage utterly out of control? They cannot have a savage mage among them, not and suffer so many deaths.

  'Kheda!' Risala screamed as a middling-sized blue-green

  bird darted out from behind a bulbous cluster of spiny plants. Feet splayed, it stood before them, head thrust low and beak gaping. Kheda pushed Risala backwards into the grasses as the bird pecked at him. He sidestepped to cut its head off with a single sweep of his sword. Its long neck lashed, spraying blood in all directions as it collapsed into the dust. Kheda backed away before he was wounded or tripped by the creature's scaly legs thrashing in its death throes. He looked up at a clattering sound and saw more dark eyes gleaming beneath the twisted trees.

  'Come on.' He grabbed Risala's hand, hauling her upright. They backed away as fast as they could down the barren margin between the trees and the grasses, away from the caves and the slaughter. Kheda watched the birds behind them while Risala turned to make sure they didn't run into some new danger. The birds didn't follow, pausing instead to tear into the corpse of the one he had beheaded with delighted squawks.