Altaica

by Tracy M. Joyce

  Asha could feel the blade at her throat tremble. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ she whispered.

  Umniga stood in the shadows, watching, waiting. Soon.

  ‘Yes I do, shut up,’ he hissed back. The moment he spoke, Umniga sprang out of the dark wielding her staff and cracked him across the skull. Vikram dropped like a stone.

  Karan, his men, and Asha’s guard rushed upright and resumed the battle. As more of Ratilal’s men fell, the fight went out of the remainder who, with their leader gone, surrendered. Vikram moaned as he regained consciousness, only to have Asha’s guard descend upon him. They spat on him and kicked his prone form. Āsim hauled him to his feet, punched him and dragged him to the wagon wheel. He propped Vikram against it, before proceeding to pummel him repeatedly.

  ‘Enough!’ Karan ordered as he put a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Āsim, enough. Bind them, then throw them in the lodge.’ He bent and casually cleaned the blood from his sword on the clothing of the nearest corpse.

  Karan addressed Asha’s guard. ‘You have upheld the values of your old clan lord by choosing to protect Asha, for which I honour you. But, you have now attacked your fellows; Ratilal will not tolerate this. He is corrupt—evil. You need to know that he killed Shahjahan. Asha, Baldev and I all saw it happen. We could do nothing. We watched Ratilal gloat over his father as his last breath left his body. I could not leave Shahjahan without saying the words of passage over his corpse; when I did so Niaz conveniently appeared to catch me. It was all carefully orchestrated by Ratilal. He does not want what Shahjahan wanted. He does not want the clans united. He does not want peace. He will be nothing other than a perversion of what a clan lord should be.’ Karan watched them process this information. He could see that they readily believed it. They had, after all, witnessed the result of his brutal attack on Asha. ‘You have a choice: face Ratilal, or come with us and continue to act as Asha’s guard. You will not be asked to fight against your own clan, save in defence of Asha or Umniga—your Kenati.’ He paused. ‘There is little time, you must decide now.’

  Āsim stepped forward. ‘I am with you.’ He placed his palm on his heart, before turning it into a fist: an ancient symbol of fidelity amongst warriors.

  Almost as one the rest of Asha’s guard moved to join him, mimicking his actions. ‘We are with you.’

  ‘And glad I am of it,’ Karan said with a genuine smile. ‘Asha, Umniga, come.’ Karan strode into the lodge, proceeding directly to Isaura. He scooped her up, frowning at how light she felt. Looking at Nicanor and Curro, he ordered, ‘Come,’ before leaving without a backward glance. Karan climbed into the wagon, cradling Isaura to his chest, taking care not to bump her in the confined space. Carefully, he placed her on the remaining bed and covered her with a quilt Umniga had left. Karan looked at her gaunt face before he left. I hope you’re worth it.

  Nicanor, Lucia and Pio were the first to leave. Pio, confused and frightened, stared at a bound, gagged and bloody Vikram before Nicanor urged him on. Elena, frightened by the fighting, dragged her heels. She stopped near the entrance looking in dismay at the injured soldiers being hauled into the lodge. Curro took her hand and towed her onward, but the sight of the dead outside halted her again.

  ‘Curro, I don’t know that we should go with these people.’

  Gabriela was behind her. ‘Well, I am going. These men,’ she nodded at those tied up, ‘are under the command of Ratilal. Remember Asha? Remember her injuries? He did that. You are crazy if you want to stay anywhere near him.’

  Lucia concurred, remembering his callous eyes. ‘He is evil, Elena. You can’t stay.’

  She nodded but didn’t move, so Curro picked her up, strode to the wagon, and dumped her in the back.

  Upon hearing Lucia’s words, and having witnessed the fighting, the other survivors made moves to leave. Karan barked out a command. His men swept into the lodge, their imposing presence forcing the others to remain.

  Looking back, Jaime realised that Daniel was not with them. Daniel remained sitting, trying to appear impassive but failing miserably. Jaime returned to him hesitantly, instinctively afraid of the outcome. ‘Daniel?’

  Daniel’s eyes were tear-filled, his face twisted. He was about to crumple, but he schooled his features, avoiding Jaime’s gaze. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t?’

  ‘Won’t. You two go. You deserve to be happy, but I can’t stay to watch it. It’s eating me up inside. I’ll never get over her if I have to watch the two of you. I need to find my own way.’

  ‘It’s not safe. What if …’

  ‘It’s not safe anywhere. I’ll take my chances. I don’t think one weaver offers much of a threat to this lot.’

  Umniga, hastily treating some of the wounded, bound warriors, paused in her work to watch this exchange. She noted Karan was also watching with keen interest from the door. He caught her look, cocked his brow, and gave her a wry grin. He has plans within plans, Uminga thought. What will he want with the boy?

  ‘Umniga, Asha. We go now.’ Umniga dropped her bag at the feet of the stranger nearest her, taking the time to indicate the bandages within and point to the wounded men. The stranger nodded and proceeded to bind their wounds.

  Jaime and Daniel were frozen in a tableau of grief. Karan regretted having to interrupt their farewell, but placed his hand on Jaime’s shoulder and urged him on.

  Umniga saw the look of devastation that crossed Daniel’s face. Her heart went out to him. Impulsively she went to him and embraced him, saying softly, ‘May the Great Mother and Father guard and guide you. May you find happiness in the light of their blessing.’ Daniel had no idea what Umniga said, but he melted into her embrace with a sob. Gently, she disentangled herself, put her hands on either side of his face and pulled it down to place a soft kiss on his brow. ‘Be well, young one.’

  Karan remained near the door as his men filtered out of the lodge. Vikram was on the floor propped against the wall near Karan’s feet. His face was bloody and one eye was swollen. Karan scowled, grabbed his collar roughly, put his lips against his ear and said, ‘I’m sorry. It was necessary. Forgive me.’

  Vikram’s eye acknowledged the truth of his words, but his face remained savage, just as Karan never let his look shift from one of loathing, despite his speech. Karan shook him, then spat on him and left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  KARAN WAS FEELING very pleased with himself—everything was going according to plan. Thanks to Ratilal’s men, he and his own men were now all riding, as were Curro, Nicanor and Jaime; while their women and Pio were in the wagon driven by Umniga. Devi was aloft, scouring the way before them, alert for the enemy. Fihr was perched on the wagon seat beside Umniga, while Asha rode alongside them. He thought about the training that would await the strangers. It would not take long to put some skill on the men; they were strong and not unfit. Of the women, he was not so certain. They looked soft and weak, it would take a long while; all he asked was that they were willing. If not … Even Asha’s guard, while Vikram had chosen them well, would need their skills honed before they would be a match for his men.

  Karan flashed Āsim an open friendly grin. ‘They’ll not know what’s hit them.’

  ‘My lord?’

  ‘Āsim, you have known me too long to call me anything other than my name. But I am referring to their training, which you will help with.’

  ‘Once, Karan, I could have put them to shame, but I have been tucked away in Faros with soft living too long. I have forgotten the rigours of my training with your father.’

  ‘I am sorry you were exiled from us for so long, but you were invaluable.’ He paused. ‘You still are.’

  ‘And Vikram?’ Āsim said.

  ‘He still has a task to perform.’

  ‘Thank the gods he thought to call all Ratilal’s men together. If they were split, some may have got away and warned the others.’

  Devi, screeched. Umniga sat bolt upright. ‘Someone is coming!’

  ‘You
lot, with me. The rest of you and the horses, into cover. Asha, you too—it could be Ratilal.’ Karan quickly dismounted with a few men.

  The outer edge of the Eastern Forest was only a short distance from the road, and it was to this that the main force moved with all speed. Fihr took flight and joined Asha. The wagon, however, could not do so. Karan and his squad flattened themselves in a slight ditch that ran beside the road. The long grass that verged it and the road sheltered them. Tense, poised, they waited.

  The women in the wagon began whispering anxiously. ‘Ssh!’ Umniga hissed at them. She drew the cover across the doorway, nodded to Lucia to do the same for the rear door, then passed her a dagger. Lucia took it with a determined look and immediately drew the rear cover closed. Umniga smiled. The woman has more grit than she realises. She moved her staff across her lap and waited. She did not have to wait very long before two horses came trotting along the road.

  Their riders stopped beside her, with their horses blowing hard, grateful for a moment’s rest.

  ‘Umniga, we did not expect to see you on the road. Why are you not in Parlan with the refugees High Lord Ratilal left under your care?’

  It was an honest enquiry, but edged with the slightest bit of distrust. Lucia tensed; understanding the edge of suspicion in their tone, her hand tightened on the dagger. She shared a determined look with Gabriela, who nodded, signalling her desire to help.

  Umniga took umbrage at his tone. ‘What kind of fool do you think I am, you whelp? Do you think that I would see my clan lord’—she rebelled at the term ‘high lord’—‘disappear into the night, chasing the enemy, without keeping an eye on him? How dare you! I have served this clan longer than you have been alive, boy. I know my duty. Did you think I would not know that the clan lord needed me?’ Devi chose this moment to land on the roof of the wagon and turn his own baleful glare on the two abashed soldiers.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Devi has shown me. Do they teach you nothing in Faros? You are delaying my journey to our clan lord—he will not be pleased.’

  ‘Our apologies, mistress,’ came the contrite reply.

  Umniga sniffed, still glaring. ‘You were headed to Parlan?’

  ‘Yes, mistress, to fetch the wagons for the wounded and any supplies we could muster.’

  ‘Too many dead,’ she guessed with sorrow.

  ‘Aye, mistress. Too many men and too many horses. They used caltrops—we rode at a gallop straight into them.’

  ‘The bastards!’ she said vehemently. ‘Off with you, get those wagons. We’ll be needing them. Asha is there with the strangers, she will help you. And take care of those horses before they drop, or you’ll be walking there and that will be just one more thing to annoy the clan lord—trust me, you don’t want that.’ She gave them a sly smile as if taking them into her confidence. ‘Boy’s got a worse temper than his father, and that’s saying something.’

  She watched as they disappeared down the track. ‘Follow them,’ she said to Devi. ‘Let me know if they come back.’

  Umniga shoved her head in the rear of the wagon and chuckled—the others, who had been holding their breath in fear, inhaled collectively. When she turned back and gathered up the reins to move off, Karan was already beside them and the horses and men were returning from cover.

  ‘You never even raised a sweat. Old one, you take some beating,’ he said.

  ‘Looks like Baldev’s been busy,’ was all she replied.

  ‘It was necessary,’ Karan said soberly. ‘You want these people? Then it was necessary. Don’t forget for an instant that this is war and that it’s not Shahjahan we’re dealing with, but Ratilal. There will be no mercy from him.’

  * * *

  The horses passed between the greenery of the hidden entrance, but Karan knew they would not get Umniga’s wagon past the low hanging branches that obscured the way to the ancient, overgrown track to Hunters’ Ford. Umniga beckoned the women out, after which Karan climbed in and went to Isaura. He scooped her up easily and exited the wagon.

  ‘Get rid of the canopy. Then maybe we can get it out of sight.’ He carried Isaura through the hanging branches of the sheoaks and deposited her on a soft bed of pine needles further down the track with her friends, before returning to the wagon.

  Umniga spoke softly to her mule, Nasir, still in the traces, while one of Karan’s men used a war axe to quickly hack through the willow uprights on the canopy, which was then deftly collapsed into the wagon tray. Nasir kept a watchful eye on the commotion behind him. His ears flicked back and forth as he listened to Umniga and the men to his rear. He never once appeared unduly frightened by their activities, but when the canopy was folded up, he gave a soft snort of satisfaction that they were finished.

  ‘He’s a good fellow,’ Karan said affectionately, patting Nasir’s neck.

  ‘I’ll be sad to leave him.’ Nasir’s ears flicked forward at this and he nudged her firmly as if in distaste.

  ‘My lord, we are ready.’

  ‘When we pull the branches away, lead him forward.’ Karan and his men managed to pull back and lift the larger branches out of the way as Umniga led Nasir through the trees. She moved the wagon slowly, for the tree limbs still rested on its timber sides and scraped their way along them. As the wagon moved, the men endeavoured to protect the branches from breaking; they did not want any obvious sign that they had passed this way. Ratilal was bound to discover their scheme, but they were certainly not going to leave him any clues.

  Behind these massive trees towered a few great pines—guardians of the path. Their combined canopies blocked out much of the sunlight during the day, and little moonlight entered at night. With so little light, and the soft thick springy mat of pine and sheoak needles, there was no undergrowth until beyond the pines. It was a perfect spot to conceal the wagon.

  Umniga led Nasir forward as far as she could, then began to unharness him, leaving his bridle on and cutting the driving reins to a shorter length, before leading him forward to join the horses.

  Karan and the others pushed the wagon further into this dim enclave until it abutted the trunk of one of the pines. Karan carried Isaura as they led the horses under the low-hanging branches of the pines.

  Nicanor usually found forests tranquil places, yet the pine scent that should have been reassuring and calming to him was not. He did not know if it was just his nerves, or the adrenaline of this escape, but he was uncomfortable. This dim, eerie world was too quiet. At home there were many night noises; here, there was not a sound. The horses made no nickers or nervous snorts in the dark, and their footfalls were completely muted by the needle bed. Above all loomed the feeling that he was being watched.

  Once past the pines, the forest thinned and moonlight filtered through the trees in flickering gasps between cloud cover. The warriors remounted the horses, with Karan in the forefront, carrying Isaura before him. Curro and the others were encouraged back onto their horses; their women were lifted behind them. Jaime winced as he mounted, earning a grin from the others. Back home, only the farmers had horses for field work. Curro, as a smith, had handled them and Nicanor had a mule to pull timber from the forest. None of them were used to riding; their inner thighs were raw and they had been glad of the chance to stretch their legs. Pio was lifted behind Asha onto Honey. He turned around and shot his father a gleeful look as they followed along. Lucia said nothing, but Nicanor could feel her shaking her head in disbelief.

  Pio resisted the urge to talk. He had so many questions, yet no one was saying anything and he felt that he should not break the silence. Asha could feel Pio turning his head this way and that and leaning his body to the side to see objects from a different angle. Honey flicked her ears back and forth every time he wriggled and inadvertently dug his short legs into her sides. Asha was losing patience too; Pio was hanging onto her sore ribs tightly and each time he moved his pointy little chin dug into her.

  Honey gave a small pigroot, causing Pio to cling onto Asha more
tightly. She blew out an exasperated breath, stopped Honey and whispered something to the warrior nearest her. Suddenly Pio was plucked from the back of the horse and dumped in front of Asha. With one hand on the reins and the other around his middle, she gave him a firm squeeze and shake.

  ‘Be still!’ she hissed. Pio needed no translation. They continued in silence for a while, his head still craning to see all he could. However, when the moonlight disappeared, he would clutch Asha’s hand and lean back against her, seeking protection from the dark.

  Nicanor marvelled at how these men and horses could move unerringly, even without the moonlight. He tried to direct his horse, but soon gave up, as that was the only time it stumbled. It was far more able to negotiate the meandering track than he. The path wove around the boles of enormous ancient trees, down small fern-lined gullies, through small creeks, and up the other side. Logs often crisscrossed the path; the horses calmly picked their way over them, content to follow each other. They seemed to sense obstacles and holes and would step over or around them. When the moonlight reached them, the forest was bathed in a beautiful blue-grey light. As they rode, the natural noises of the forest returned and he relaxed. Now and then he felt Lucia’s indrawn breath, as something scuttled off through the undergrowth, and patted her hand reassuringly. This was normal. Yet, he would still occasionally stiffen, unable to shake the feeling of eyes upon him.

  * * *

  Baldev’s scouts had found a rocky goat track that descended through a maze of trees and shrubs down to the river’s edge. Here it opened out onto a long sandy stretch interspersed with large, half-buried flat rocks, backed by a near vertical bank that towered above them. The striations in the layers of soil transitioned from heavy clay to top soil embedded with roots that tenaciously held it together. Part of the bank was rock which, eroded by water, formed a long half cave. It was roomy enough to fit many of the men and horses. Content with the skill of his sentries, he allowed the horses a short rest.