Aisha wheeled around, thoroughly annoyed with the grunts and moans of pleasure coming from Catlo and Diamanda, she put her hands over her ears and stormed away. A short distance away, she saw Musa caught in a shard of moonlight. He knelt as if in prayer and stared up toward the distant peak of Jokameno.
He stared solemnly in silence.
“Musa, are you all right?” she asked.
He looked over his shoulder, startled at her interruption. “Yes, yes. Just trying to hear the spirits of my land. They are whispering to me and yet I cannot hear what they say. I am trying to understand. They keep calling me.”
“I’m sure it will come to you,” she said.
He nodded. “You are a good friend and a good woman,” said Musa. “I am grateful that the sacred chief died under your knife.”
Aisha was puzzled at that. Was he joking? Being sarcastic? It didn’t seem like he had it in him for such wordplay or guile. She decided he must be sincere. “You’re welcome, I think.”
He gave her an appreciative smile, then went back to his kneeling meditation and staring at the mountain which stood out in contrast to the star-flecked night as a mass of utter blackness.
Aisha stared at the mountain for a long moment herself. Every now and again, it looked for a moment as if some thread of orange jetted from somewhere near the peak. Was that flame or lava? Could it be a dragon’s breath?
“Sowing dragon teeth,” she muttered to herself. “Sowing dragon teeth.”
Catlo and Diamanda were cooing to one another now and Ole had gone to the far side of the camp near the horses. Aisha picked up her bedding and moved closer to where Musa was. She cleared a small of patch of ground from the many spiky rocks and laid down to sleep.
Soon she dreamt of the farm she grew up on and her father spinning her about in the midst of tall grasses while her mother watched. There was naught but joy back then, naught but happiness in simplicity. Was it real, was life ever that simple? No. Dragons took that away whether the people of their village believed the crying child’s words or not. Her eyes were testament to the truth of the incident. She was changed. By the time she reached maiden hood she was as strong as any of the young men and just as swift. But though they all spoke in hushed whispers that she was touched, none believed the story of the dragon.
She grew angry now and the focus of the dream turned dark. She glanced back at herself in a silver pool surrounded by a starless sky. Her own yellow eyes glowed therein and then, the monstrous eye that matched her own stared back, looming over her shoulders.
Wheeling about Aisha was face to face with the massive black dragon that had destroyed her happiness. Destroyed her father. Destroyed her life. Fear crowded over her, threatening to crush her into oblivion. Fear paralyzed her very soul and she froze into a ball. She could not speak, she could not move, she could hardly think.
Then the anger came.
She glanced up at the gloating form of the dragon. Bile dripped from its great fangs, and blood splattered its lips from its most recent kill.
A sword was in her hand and she attacked, launching herself at the monster of nightmares and hacking away like a farmer harvesting grain.
Shocked, the dragon withdrew under her blows. Shrinking down until there was nothing but the defeated form of herself, lying dead from the myriad blows.
Aisha stared at her own mirrored, broken body. She had slain her demons. She knew she could, and now when she awoke and met a dragon, she knew she would accomplish this same thing in life.
She awoke with a start, breathing hard. Her nails had dug into her palms, causing a trickle of blood to flow. Sweat beaded her forehead.
Ole stood over her. “Nightmare?”
“Yes. Just a dream.”
He did his silent nod and said, “All right. Your turn for watch then.”
Far in the cold distance, a hyena gave its awful barking laugh.
24. The Thousand Steps of Doom
It took them more than two days to reach the foot of the mountain. Aisha had never dreamed she would see something so huge. It was so massive that it dominated the plain, lording over the smaller hills like a king over his vassals. She had thought it to be much smaller and much closer. But every day as they rode on, it loomed ever greater and stole a great portion of the sky.
The mountain was brown but had many charcoal grey sections that looked as if rivers of lava had flowed down its slopes in ages past. Faint traces of black smoke rose from the peak, but these were relatively small and could have been confused with campfires if there was anything resembling wood for miles, which there was not. They had seen no water or brush since leaving the oasis. This was as arid and dead a landscape as any they had witnessed on the journey here.
Musa seemed distracted, he stared up at the peak of the mountain, murmuring to himself or perhaps the corpse of Zahur still swaddled and across the back of his mule. A cloud of flies clung tenaciously to the thick blanket covering the dead man.
Aisha delayed the answer she knew the others hung on for and asked, “Musa, what do you hear?”
He looked at her confusedly, “They keep calling me, but I cannot tell what they are saying.”
“I’m sure it will come,” she said.
They took a brief rest at the foot of the mountain as Musa buried the corpse of Zahur. He insisted on doing it himself even though Aisha and Ole began to help him.
“I should do this myself,” said Musa.
“Should anything be said over him?” asked Aisha.
“Blah, blah, blah. Now, let’s get up there!” snapped Catlo. “How do we find the stair and the door? That treasure is what is calling me!”
How she tired of him. She shook her head. “Why don’t you take a look around and see if you can find it.”
Catlo snarled. “I know the stories as well as anyone. None can find the thousand steps and secret door if they know not the signs. This mountain is big, the only reason there aren’t more folk trying to reach the treasure is because of how remote it is. I know we are not the first to come here, but none has ever found it, so, I know the value of the great secret of the chief. Please, tell us and let’s get that treasure.”
“I need to hear some gratitude from you for a change,” snapped Aisha.
“I guess it’s a good thing we have that mule,” said Catlo. “All the more to carry our treasure, eh?”
“When we return, after getting as much treasure as we can, we will have to return to that vault of mirrors just to be able to survive well enough to make it to the river,” said Ole.
Aisha grunted in affirmation. “Maybe spend a few days and nights there.”
Ole gave her a broad grin.
She continued, “If we went due east from here I think we should come to the Hermonthis river. We could make another raft and float all the way to the northlands if we wanted.”
“It might be easier,” he said. “But won’t the Kathulians be lying in wait?”
“Likely. I don’t even know if there would be any trees for us to make a raft due east of here, but rivers almost always have vegetation nearby and even if we had to ride alongside it, eventually we would find some. I just don’t want to find any more of those long-legged crocodiles. Neema called them long-legged drakes.”
Ole agreed, but asked, “Where do we find the way up the mountain?”
His question caught the others attention, and everyone rode closer to hear her answer. Even Diamanda’s typical scowl was replaced by an eager, bright look of excitement.
Aisha glanced at the sheer sloped face of rock. This mountain looked slick and terrible with the great slanting slabs of rock coming together like a cyclopean wall. It would be a work of heroic proportions for a man to ever climb such a thing. No wonder there was no legend of anyone ever being able to do such a thing. But there was the legend of the thousand steps of doom and the ultimate secret door. She just had to remember the sign from the map to recognize the secret stair. She didn’t tell the rest of them, but that was a
foggy piece of her memory. She hadn’t really believed the truth of the map or legendary tales, she read it, but could not remember the exact details for the steps.
She glanced around. “We better keep moving and I will see the signs.”
Catlo grumbled. Musa stood shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. Diamanda scowled, but there was also an eagerness that belied something on her mind beyond perhaps just the thought of the hoard. Ole tightened his belt and shoulder straps. He gave her a nod and grin.
Boulders jutted the slopes of the mountain and it seemed as they slowly rode around the base that there was nowhere a stair could be hidden that they could not see. But the mountain was very enormous, and Aisha decided that it must surely be right around every bend they came too. She expected every passing boulder to reveal the clue she waited eagerly for. She looked for a group of rocks that would look like an upturned hand.
Several hours and many miles later, the harsh sun was at their backs, sending hot golden rays trying its best to force them to look away from its brilliance.
“You’re getting me concerned,” said Catlo with his usual sneer. “Seems like we should have seen a sign by now, huh? Something to let us know we were on the right track.”
Musa spoke before Aisha could. “The sacred kings would not have left an obvious trail. It had remained hidden even from the Umoja chiefs. Only the sacred king of secrets knew the path.”
Catlo snorted. “I think we have gone around at least half of the mountain by now have we not?”
“Yes, we have, perhaps the black woman lies to us?” said Diamanda, an evil leer upon her brow.
Aisha wheeled in the saddle to face her accusers. The glare of the sun forced her hand up. Behind the smirking Catlo and pantherish Diamanda, a series of stones were raised upright, not unlike a great jagged hand.
It had been impossible to see until Aisha turned to this precise position because they were not all joined side by side but were differing towers of stone that only looked like a hand as she stood at this exact place. Once she moved aside, the illusion would disappear with perspective as the stones were separated by yards and yards.
Aisha leapt from her horse and scrambled toward the side of the mountain.
“Look at that, she’s gone crazy,” jeered Catlo.
“That’s enough,” said Ole, gruffly. His comment silenced whatever Diamanda was about to additionally taunt.
Aisha strode to a sheer face of rock that was weathered with the ages. She ran her hands across the surface, feeling for any sign or hint that this was the way to the secret stair. It all appeared solid. There was no secret door, no crack in the stone hinting at threshold. She slammed her fists against the wall and ran her fingers across it, trying to sense anything. She moved back and forth across the face of stone, going from one side of a jutting ledge to the other, almost fifty paces wide.
“It should be here,” she said, urgently.
Catlo murmured from atop his horse. “She’s gone mad.”
Ole dismounted to join Aisha. He scanned the stone wall. “Is this it? What sign did you see?”
She took his hand and walked him out a dozen paces to where he could see the upraised stone hand. “That’s the sign. The map said that when you can see that, you’ll find the thousand steps of doom.”
Ole stepped back, looked at the hand, then looked at the mountain, he looked at the hand, then the mountain, then said, “All right. I see it.”
Aisha scowled. “But it’s not here. I don’t understand.”
“Relax, it is,” said Ole, with an easy enthusiasm.
Aisha grit her teeth in anger. How could he be so calm and relaxed? They had come all this way and the map was a lie. It was not here. She had watched the mountain side so carefully, she had found the curiously hidden sign, but it was a lie, there was no door to a secret step here.
“Do you think the horses can make it?” asked Catlo.
“I think so,” said Ole. “We might need to do a little work. Put in a little more of a berm for them to make that leap but let’s climb up first and take a look. Musa?”
“I’ll go,” said the taciturn Umoja.
“What are you all talking about?” asked Aisha, angered at their discussion of something that did not exist.
“Aisha,” said Ole, with a broad grin on his face.
“I don’t think this funny.”
“Aisha,” said Ole, pointing at the mountain.
“I’ve looked everywhere, I don’t see it,” she said.
“Maybe we didn’t need her at all?” said Catlo.
“Another word and I’ll take your head off,” shouted Aisha. “I brought us here, and I never wanted to come in the first place.”
“Aisha,” said Ole.
“I expected better out of you,” she lashed out at Ole.
“Aisha, right there,” said Ole, gently.
She turned and watched as Musa strode to the sheer face of rock. He put a foot on a shallow ledge and leapt up and grasped another handhold and then tucked himself into a ledge that barely looked wide enough for a horse. Then he was gone. Why hadn’t she looked up? Just above eye level and there it was, behind a slanting crack between the boulders.
Musa was gone all of a minute when he came back and said, “I still cannot hear what the spirits are saying to me, but I think the horses could go all the way up, if we can get them through the entrance right here.”
They began work on a small berm to assist in getting the horses through the threshold. They dragged larger stones and then once it was several feet high, they shoveled sand and gravel to help fill in the spots and keep it steady.
Ole said, “One of us should climb ahead and lead the first animal.”
“I’ll do it,” said Aisha.
Ole nodded and moved out of the way for Aisha to climb up. Then he led her horse toward her.
“It is only tight the first twenty paces before it moves into a cavern ahead,” said Musa.
“A cavern? That doesn’t sound safe,” said Diamanda.
“Who asked you?” shot Catlo.
“Maybe we should leave the horses here,” said Diamanda.
“That’s a bad idea,” said Musa.
“Why?”
“Because we don’t want them to be eaten.”
“By lions?”
“No,” said the Umoja, as he raised a lone finger and pointed to the skies above. “By that.”
Far at the edge of the horizon stood the massive shape of a dog or wolf. It disappeared over the lip of the mountain above and they saw it no more.
“It’s that damn hyena man,” said Ole grimly.
A shadow passed over their heads. A cool breeze cut them off from the sun.
Aisha didn’t even have time for the welling of fear she knew must have crashed over her face like a tidal wave. She glanced at the others, but they still looked at the vanished place of the hyena. Her knuckles clenched almost white upon her sword hilt. She shook. She slapped herself and turned around in place, trying to reconnect with herself. Why did this strike her so hard? Why was she the little girl who lost her father all over again. She took deep breaths and recited, “Sowing dragon teeth, I am sowing dragon teeth.”
“We better get in there now,” said Ole, urgently. “We don’t want it spotting us if it comes back.”
“How do we know it didn’t see us already?” asked Diamanda.
“If it had, I don’t think we’d be standing here talking about it,” said Catlo.
“It was the Bouda,” said Musa morosely. “It seeks our death.”
“How can we even fight such a thing? It will slay us all,” shouted the princess. “I have heard tales of them in the desert kingdoms. They strike travelers in lonely places.”
“Keep still then,” said Aisha. “Do you want it to hear us?”
Diamanda glared at Aisha. “You’re mad. There is no way to defeat such a monster. We should flee.”
“I’m not leaving behind the treasure that waits fo
r me at the top of the mountain. Stay here if you like. We’ll be back soon enough,” said Catlo. The promise of gold and treasure had outweighed even his lovesickness for the voluptuous princess.
“No, I’m coming with you.” Diamanda shuddered.
“The legends say that among the dead dragons are hoards of treasure and weapons of great renown. It is said that a wounded dragon with a great sword or lance stuck in its body would come here to die. Those weapons must be littering the top of the mountain, all for us to claim,” said Catlo. “Can you imagine me with a great dragon slaying sword, made by the gods?”
“No.” Aisha scowled.
But Catlo did not engage in her criticisms. “I can. I will pick up a golden blade and swing it thusly and slay any such monster which threatens my lady.”
“Who is that?” teased Diamanda.
“Haha, you’re my hussy then Diamanda.”
“Am I now?” Diamanda teased.
Aisha clamped her hands over her ears, cursing. “Damn the gods, how long must I hear such senseless prattle?”
“Aisha, stop holding up the line, let’s get moving up there,” jeered Catlo.
Diamanda laughed. “Give your hussy here a scarf then, that I might wipe away my perspiration.”
Catlo laughed and tossed Diamanda the sun-bleached red scarf from his neck.
Diamanda took it as if he had given her a crown, bowing and thanking him before she dabbed at her forehead.
Aisha frowned but took her horse’s reins and led the mare up and through the threshold. It was tight, but Musa had been correct. Beyond the initial hidden section, a long winding path opened slightly, leading on and up the mountain. They would still have to remain in single file, but they could ride, and it wouldn’t be such a steep slope that the horses couldn’t handle the rocky path.
Musa was next, then Ole, then Catlo and finally Diamanda. The princess had lingered for a moment at the entrance but was soon right beside Catlo.
“My people made this trail long ago. I never thought to see the day that I could ride it,” said Musa excitedly.
“I’m glad you’re here,” said Aisha. As the travails of the journey had gone on, she had come to respect and even like the taciturn Umoja. No longer was she angry at him just for being associated with Catlo’s greed.
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