Medieval Rain

by J. D. Sonne

  As much as it chilled her to ask the question, she did. “But why not just let them revolt? There are just as many viruls as there are Leads, Titleds or even lowblood females. If they planned well enough, they could have slaughtered at least a few of us in our beds. They may not have succeeded in taking over, but they could have disrupted the workings of the sector.”

  “Landman didn’t want bloodshed,” Scout said. “I would have liked to do as you said, but he wouldn’t have it—something about ‘not resorting to titleds’ and leads’ methods to gain our freedom.’ Instead, he wanted to send raids to get as many of the males out as possible. But, without bloodshed.”

  So that’s what the raids were about, Rane thought. They were helping viruls to escape. “But why did I never hear anything about such raids?” She asked aloud.

  “The titleds kept it quiet, as far as they were able,” Scout said. “So, I agreed and returned with the full intention of schooling my comrades that help was coming and that they must not do anything violent. That Landman would get them out. I came back, and that is when you and I crossed paths. Unfortunately, I had not acclimated myself to being a subservient virul again and you were the first lead to attempt to give me an order. We know how that turned out.”

  Rane looked carefully at Scout’s face. Amazingly, there was no recrimination, blame or anger there. He simply stated the story as if it were just a stream of simple events. “So, how did you make it back to the camp after I--” she paused, not wanting to finish with “almost beat you to death.”

  Scout seemed to understand and skipped over that part of the story, just going on, “with much difficulty, I can tell you. I still wasn’t fully healed and that trek, as you know, is not for the weak. But I made it and rested up at the camp for a while until Landman sent the four of us on another escape raid. I had heard about a lead being in the camp, but had no idea that it was you and we set off not realizing your supposed kidnapping had increased the security presence in the sector, making it too difficult to mount the operation so we abandoned it. When we came back to the camp, that’s when we ran into each other.”

  “Why did you not let on that you knew me?” Rane asked. “You could have probably gotten rid of me then—a pretty good revenge for the Lead who put you in the infirmary.”

  “I considered it,” Scout said. “But I knew we needed a waterwork and that you were the best person to direct that build. I figured I could kill you myself after it was completed.”

  “Very astute,” Rane had to agree.

  “I thought so,” Scout said, chuckling.

  The two walked along in silence for a few moments until Rane said, “Well, in the next few days, I hope to make all that up to you. If the rescue goes as planned, perhaps we can all make a new life somewhere. I wish we could make the Leads and Titleds see reason and make a new life for them that is absent brutality and subservience, but I know enough about our past history and present politics to know that is nigh impossible. The only chance we will have is to get away, far away.”

  Rane yanked at Treefall’s reins as the horse had become spooked at some scent he had picked up in the forest and suddenly she tired of pulling him along. Then she had an idea. Under the guise of wanting reconnaissance, Rane had Scout mount Treefall and ride a little ahead with Saruah so they could get some time together. It also provided some entertainment for Rane when Scout proved to be anything but a horseman. When Rane suggested that he ride the horse, the look of fear on his face was worth a lifetime of water.

  “Perhaps Saruah can give you some pointers,” Rane said after pulling Scout aside. She tried to keep the mockery out of her voice when she went on. “But this will be an excellent opportunity to get to know her better, and,” she added meaningfully, “to work your virul charm on her.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Scout said, surly. But the eagerness in his eyes almost edged away the fear there. “You are acting just like a trafficker,” he added, referring to the dregs on their planet who engaged in the sordid selling of coupling.

  Rane thought, Oh, I’ve done so much worse than that to you viruls—but of course he knew that, so she said nothing.

  As the two rode off, Rane hoped that Treefall would cooperate having a strange servaquan on his back and a virul at that. He had seemed calm, rolling his eyes only a little at Scout’s awkward handling of the reins.

  “You don’t have to saw on them,” Saruah said, correcting Scout’s rough hands with a skimming pat. “Just a light touch will do—like this!” And Saruah leaned forward and lightly flipped Flywood’s reins across his neck, the horse responding at once by surging ahead on the path.

  Scout mimicked her and followed, turning in the saddle to grimace at Rane as his butt bounced high off Treefall’s saddle.

  Covering her laugh, Rane fell back with Shad and the others and trudged along in the morning shadow of Termonos.

  They did not see the riders for the rest of the day until they came upon them at the night camp. Saruah knew this area almost as well as Rane and had parked the horses near the southern cleft of Termonos. The site provided a nice miniature meadow surrounded by an almost perfect ring of trees, the place having earned its name, Treefairy Circle, as a result. Rane had been sure that Saruah would choose this for their night camp.

  Saruah and Scout were sitting companionably in the middle of the ring, having built a nice campfire, over which was roasting a couple of rather lean scuprats.

  “Couldn’t you have found fatter rats?” Rane said, trudging up to the fire. “And, didn’t you make cakes for us?”

  The rest of the women threw down their packs and assumed various poses of recumbence, chuckling at the embarrassed twist of Scout’s mouth and Saruah’s titter.

  Saruah said, “Cakes? Very funny! And, don’t inspect a gift scuprat’s claws, if you please! We had to scour the brush far and wide for these! But, Rane!”

  “Yes, my darling,” Rane said, lying on her bedroll. “How can I help you?”

  “Remember how you were going to show me the crystal blue glen? We never got there, and I wanted to see it! Scout told me all about it!”

  “Oh, did he?” Rane said, trying to appear only mildly interested. “It is beautiful. I guess we’ll have to do it on our next trip.”

  “If there is a ‘next trip,’” Scout said ominously.

  “What does that mean?” Saruah said, looking puzzled. “Of course, there will be a ‘next trip.’ We can always come back later!”

  “Yes,” Rane said nonchalantly but glaring at Scout. “As soon as things calm down at the sector, we’ll come back. You do need to see it, Saruah!”

  As soon as the scuprats were nice and charcoaled, the group tore into the flesh, marrow from the bones and all, then sat back a little sated. Some napped and others murmured quietly, discussing their futures whether in the sector or staying in the wilds.

  Rane, Saruah and Scout sat together at the fire, the night falling about them, chatting happily about nothing in particular when Saruah said, “So, when we get back to the sector, I think Scout should work in the carpenter shop on your estate. The other viruls could train him, and he has the aptitude. See?” And she held up the cage holding the marmouse as evidence.

  Rane watched the marmouse skittering back and forth, bouncing off the walls of the lashed tiny wooden grates, and admired Scout’s delicate workmanship. Then, Saruah’s words registered. She sat straight up and saw the scowl on Scout’s face. Although Saruah had not recognized that Scout was the virul rat, Rane realized that she hadn’t cooked up a story to explain him. Rane guessed Saruah’s ardor had clouded her mind enough that she hadn’t asked and had just assumed that he was going to take his place in the slave pool of viruls back at the sector.

  All Rane could do was stammer for a couple of seconds. She had to jump in, or Scout might say something stupid like, “I’m not one of your damned viruls,” or “Just try to put me in your carpenter shop!”

  Finally, she said, “Scout does seem to have carpentry g
ifts, but I had something else in mind for him.” Rane inwardly groaned. That came out too sly, too suspicious. Damn.

  “Like what?” Saruah said mildly, then stopped. Rane could almost see the workings in her head and knew that the farce had played itself out. Saruah was not stupid, not anywhere near it. In fact, she was the most intelligent Lead of Rane’s friends, and that was why she was her best friend. Saruah had guessed Rane’s intention in the conversation of the other day, but the idea had not fully formed as their exchange had been interrupted by Scout’s arrival. Now, Rane could almost see the clickings of the water cogs and wheels in Saruah’s brain as the full truth of Rane’s plan dawned on her. “Not only are you planning a rescue,” Saruah gasped, “but you are using Scout and all of these females to free Landman and your other viruls!” Saruah said. She stood up and walked away from the fire, shaking her fists and gyrating her arms. They heard her say, “Gods! I’m so stupid! They totally played me!”

  “Now what?” Rane said, mostly to herself. She got up to go after Saruah and Scout put a restraining hand on her arm.

  “Let me,” he said quietly. “I think I can talk to her.”

  “It was your stupid artless comment that got us into this situation in the first place,” She raged. “’If there is a next trip!’ What a dumb thing to say!”

  “Rane! We have run out of time! We need to know if we can convince her, and it’s now or never. We will arrive at the sector tomorrow. Saruah and I have talked of many things, and I think she might be ready to help us.”

  “You didn’t tell her the plan, did you?” Rane asked. “That’s right, you couldn’t have! I mean, she thinks you are going to work as a virul when we get back! How ready could she be?”

  “You might be surprised. Let me.”

  Rane shrugged, suddenly tired of the worry and intrigue of trying to hold all of this together. At that moment, she really didn’t feel up to the task of convincing Saruah to help them. The world of Saruah’s fixed ideas suddenly weighed heavily, overwhelming her. “Go ahead,” she murmured. “I just don’t feel up to it, all of a sudden.”

  Scout nodded and rose, walking toward Saruah who was obviously weeping. She had her back to them and was bent over in sobs.

  Rane watched Scout approach Saruah, then put his arm around her. Her friend seemed to try to at first wrench away from the embrace, then suddenly and surprisingly fell into Scout’s arms, clutching at him and crying into his shoulder.

  Scout’s body seemed fidgety and awkward, and at first he just patted her on the shoulder. Then he melted into her, responding to her urgent arms by surrounding her with his own.

  Rane actually wept a little as she watched them. She was so new to love that she felt confused and wondered why the scene made her want Landman. Then she remembered the imminent wilding and execution and despair washed over her. There was nothing to be done. Utter defeat filled her, and she turned away and lay down on her sleeping roll, putting her arm over her eyes.

  She must have fallen asleep, for when she awoke, cold and open to the night above her, Rane was shaking, her teeth actually chattering. Sitting up, she looked around her and saw the lumps of sleepers scattered about the snoozing fire. She was about to get up to find a stick with which to stir the embers when she froze. Interspersed among the sleeping females—and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scout and Saruah cuddled together--were grazing needlebeasts, apparently unconcerned that they had wandered among the servaquans, their natural enemies.

  There was nothing for Rane to do but sit and watch. If the picture had not been so fraught with danger, it would have been a landscape of impossible beauty. One of the moons had actually made an appearance in the vault, its green tinge giving its identity up to Rane: the tide moon, much stronger in its pull on the waters of Maraquan. The soft tufts of meadow grass actually seemed to spike under the welcoming beams of the green light, and the mist from the natural underground aquifers that pocked the mantle of the planet shed its diaphanous blanket over the dormant mounds spread around the sputtering coals.

  Rane did not even dare to pull her bedroll up around her, for if she spooked the herd, the release of needles from their hides could kill everyone in the meadow. Nature had been very thorough in her protection of the needlebeast, except for the fact that Rane’s mouth was watering at that very moment at the thought of a good needlebeast steak. That aside, she hoped that no one screamed or yelled out during a nightmare or even muttered in her sleep. Needlebeasts had been startled by far less.

  Her eyes opened to dawn shedding its gown of light through the trees that ringed the meadow. Amazingly, her angst about the needlebeast herd had not assaulted her sleep and she marveled that no one was dead of needlebeast stings; the herd must have moved quietly on. Scout was already up, stirring the fire, and a few of the females were packing their bedrolls, preparing for the journey that day. Saruah was still fast asleep and when Rane looked from her friend’s bedroll to Scout, he was already looking at her. He nodded.

  That was all Rane needed. Her heart warmed with excitement that Scout had been successful in convincing her to help them, and she dragged her bedroll over to where Saruah lay so she could lie down next to her and discuss the plan.

  “Saruah!” Rane shook her and watched as Saruah stretched and gaped, opening her eyes, which had a glassed over, dreamy quality that she obviously had not inspired. For when she saw Rane, she actually reared back, embarrassment piquing her expression.

  “So, who were you expecting?” Rane teased good naturedly.

  “No-nobody!” Saruah stammered. “I just didn’t—”

  “Oh, shut up!” Rane said, laughing. “Nobody cares what you and Scout do in the late hours!”

  Saruah said nothing but sat up, drawing the bedroll up over her head, curling her body into a ball as she flopped down sideways. Rane heard a muffled, “Go away!” from the cocoon.

  To change the subject, Rane leaned close to the folds of the bedroll and said, “There were needlebeasts grazing amongst us last night as we slept.”

  Saruah’s head whipped out of the bedroll so quickly that Rane almost laughed, but stifled herself, needing a sober discussion about strategy from her friend. “Needlebeasts? It is a wonder we are all still alive! Have you told the others?”

  “Not yet, but there are other things to discuss. So, are you with us?” Rane asked, cutting right to the critical subject at hand. “I’m sorry we had to assault you with all of this so quickly, but we must put the plan in motion now, before we get within many furlongs of the sector.”

  “You don’t hate me?” Saruah asked.

  “Hate you?” Rane said, surprised. “Why would I hate you?”

  “Well,” Saruah said, sounding sheepish. “I railed against you allowing yourself to love a virul and now it looks like I am guilty of the same thing. I’m a hypocrite. But, I really don’t care, because—it feels wonderful!”

  Rane saw the tears starting in Saruah’s eyes and she instinctively moved next to her on her bedroll, putting her arms around her as she said, “Yes, it does. Now, do you see why we need to do our best to rescue Landman and the others?”

  “But, how is that going to help the rest of the viruls--”

  “Now that you are enlightened,” Scout broke in, having approached the two leads, “we prefer to be called ‘men.’ “

  “All right,” Saruah said, “How is that going to help the rest of the ‘men’ on Maraquan?”

  “It won’t,” Rane said. “That is, it won’t, yet. In fact, this is going to be anything but easy, let’s not fool ourselves. But, I think little by little, we can make a difference in how Leads, Titleds and Men see each other.”

  “I think, little by little, we are going to start a war,” Saruah sighed. “Change will come very hard.”

  “If it helps, Madame Biologist, think of it as a field study where you are exploring the science of the genders. Think biology! Love made you see a reason for equality. Maybe that is how this ‘war’ can be won.
”

  “I don’t know,” Saruah said doubtfully. “It did work for you and me, but how can we inspire others?”

  “Again, biology will take care of that,” Scout offered, lifting Saruah to her feet, nuzzling her neck and kissing her lightly on the mouth. “But, this philosophical discussion can wait. We can talk on the road.”

  Rane stood, adjusting her sleep-rumpled buckskins, and said, “Right!” To the others, she yelled, Let’s move!”

  The rest of the party was waiting for them, Rane discovered, seeing that they were packed and picking over the scuprat leavings from the night before.

  “Here,” Shad said, holding her hands full of scraps to the three. “We saved you some. Eat up! And no need to yell! We were waiting for you!”

  Gruffly, Rand said, “Well, then—let’s go!”

  Well beyond the shadow of Termonos, but still dwarfed the vast splendor of the lake meadows to the west, the little group closed the distance between safety and the sector, each wondering the outcome of the dangerous next few days.

  Rane divided her time between trudging alongside her horse and mentally going over the steps of the rescue plan in her head. Treefall, along with Saruah’s Flywood, was being used to carry the packs and sundry camp gear of those in the party. Since she and Saruah had been the only ones mounted, Rane determined that the fair course would be to use the horses as burden beasts. It turned out to be an excellent strategy as the group was able to move much more quickly without the cumbersome packs and gear slung on their backs.

  At the end of the day, the verdant bluff that overlooked the sector rose in their view. Rane and Saruah had decided that they would pitch camp for Scout and the Leads as soon as they saw the bluff, after which they themselves would continue on home. At first they were going to camp the night with their new friends—a notion for which Saruah pressed—but ultimately, based on their longer absence, Rane saw the need to resume the sector as soon as possible.