The Dawn King (The Moon People, Book Five)

by Claudia King

  “Making allies of the Moon People,” Liliac said. “That would be a difficult thing. The Dawn King himself would wish to know of it. The high priests, too. Ah, a decision like that, a pilgrim like me could never make it alone.”

  Adel's racing pulse began to slow. “Take my words to your leaders, then. Tell them Den Mother Adel wishes to offer her hand in friendship to the Dawn King.”

  Liliac have her a sincere look. “Would you bring these words to him yourself? Would you travel with us and present yourself to the temple in person?”

  Despite her composure, Adel felt the blade tremble in her hand. The shaman's offer had taken her aback. She imagined the knowledge that she might seek in the Sun People's lands, and the power the Dawn King might offer her.

  Adel sheathed the blade and lowered it, shaking her head. “I cannot abandon my people.”

  “Will you send one of your followers, then?”

  “No, I would not ask them to undertake such a journey in my place.” Adel forced herself to relax, measuring her responses. This meeting of tribes was something to be handled carefully, and sending someone away with these people would be dangerous. “For now I would be content for you to take my message back to your leaders. The next time you make this journey, return here and give me their answer. I will ensure that no harm comes to you while you travel the rivers near my territory.”

  Liliac's disappointment was plain to see. Now that the initial tension between them had eased, he seemed far more forthcoming with his emotions. Perhaps it would be wise for Adel to do the same.

  “This will be a difficult bargain to make,” he said. “We will not return this way for another year. If only I'd given this meeting more thought I could have brought a messenger of the temple to offer in exchange for one of your people, but we did not know whether we would even find you. Offers of friendship and truce I can give you, but sharing the crafts of our people? I do not think I can convince the Dawn King to agree to that with my words alone.”

  Adel sensed the potential of their meeting slipping through her fingers. Was there truly no way to make her offer to the Dawn King without meeting him in person? She wanted these travellers to return home with something that would inspire them, not a forgettable tale of a meeting that had amounted to nothing. What if the Dawn King had only sent this blade to her as a shiny trinket intended to placate a band of wild savages? Perhaps if she offered him something of equal value in return he would see that she was a woman worth dealing with.

  Sending away one of her own people was out of the question, yet she did have something else that would be of great interest to the Sun People. Kiren's map. It would be a dangerous thing to offer, yet its value was even greater than that of the metal blade she now held. Such an exchange of gifts might convince the Dawn King that her influence and generosity rivalled his own.

  “Kiren,” she called, switching back into the Moon People's tongue momentarily. “Bring the map to us.”

  Liliac watched them curiously as the girl stepped forward. A faint creak of wood sounded behind him as one of the warriors began to draw his bow, but the shaman gestured for him to stand down.

  Unlike Adel's composed expression, the distrust simmering in Kiren's eyes was plain to see. She glowered furtively at Liliac and the men around him, barely even glancing at Adel as she approached with the map tucked beneath her arm. The girl was certainly no peacemaker, at least not when the Sun People were involved.

  Before Kiren could cause any trouble by opening her mouth Adel snatched the map from her and stepped forward, moving into a shaft of sunlight near one of the banked canoes. Allowing the light to fall upon the roll of leather, Adel unfurled it half way and held it up for Liliac to see. Confusion creased the man's brow for a moment, then his eyes widened.

  “I have seen pictures like this before. Is it what I think it is?”

  Adel was careful only to show the side of the map that depicted the Sun People's lands. She did not know how keen this shaman's memory was when it came to capturing images, and she did not want to risk revealing the secrets of her people to him. If she could, she would only give him half of the map, or perhaps an incomplete copy if there was time to make one.

  “It is a map,” Adel said. “Do you understand the story it tells?”

  Liliac nodded slowly. “Bring it into the light more.”

  Adel allowed him to approach until they were standing side by side. The shaman's arm brushed against hers as he leaned forward to study the marked leather. Her excitement began to grow again as she saw the intensity with which he was regarding it. Just like her, he understood the value in what he was seeing.

  “Is there more? Does it tell of the lands beyond our home?”

  “Some of them.”

  “Show me, would you?” Liliac gave her a smile. “You have seen the picture of our lands. Is it not fair that I see the picture of yours?”

  “If I do, will I have the Dawn King's favour? Will you bring me shamans and craftspeople the next time you travel this way?”

  Liliac ran his tongue over dry lips. He was considering it. They both knew they were about to make dangerous promises. Promises that could lead to much bloodshed if they were broken. For a moment Adel wondered whether she was risking too much. Perhaps it would be better if she simply sent these Sun People on their way again. Yet Adel knew there was the potential for more here. Tenuous alliances could break. She wanted to show this Dawn King that her offer was a serious one. One that might even be the first step toward peace between their warring peoples. A man who had managed to bring so many different tribes under his sway would surely recognise the value in such unity.

  “Trust must begin somewhere,” she said. “What do you say, shaman?”

  Liliac reached for the edges of the map. Adel tensed, expecting him to try and take it from her, but instead he rolled the leather back up and pressed it into her hands.

  “You are right, Sorceress Adel. I wish for the same things you do. If you give us this map, you shall have what you desire, but I'll not ask you to show me the rest until you feel we have earned it.” He spread his arms wide, inviting her into an embrace of friendship. “May we sit and talk? Share drink? Make merry with the people of your clan? The wet season is still a long ways off, and there is no hurry for us to return home.”

  Adel gave him a measured smile, holding the map back out in Kiren's direction. When the girl took it Adel stepped forward into the embrace, but her grip remained tight around the sheathe of the metal blade. She held her wolf just beneath the surface, ready to spring back if she felt the point of a poisoned needle or a hidden knife. But Liliac's embrace, tense though it was, seemed genuine.

  “This is strange, I know,” he whispered. “Even stranger to our followers, I think. We must show them they have nothing to fear.” The shaman let go of her and gestured eagerly, stepping over to the canoe from which he had taken the blade. “My people always drink to celebrate new bonds of kinship! Do yours have the same tradition?”

  Adel shook her head. “Many of my kind are in the habit of making enemies, not friends.”

  “Perhaps today is the day that changes.” Liliac reached into the bottom of the canoe and produced a carved wooden cup, its edges wrought with patterns that resembled vines or snakes. He dipped it into the clear river water, held it up to the sun, then sprinkled in a handful of herbs.

  “What plant is that?” Adel asked, disguising her suspicion with mild curiosity.

  “One that grows in our homeland,” Liliac replied, swirling the cup's contents until the dry leaves sank to the bottom. “To make the river waters safe to drink.” He took a long swig from the vessel, draining it half way, then offered the cup to Adel. She waited, making sure the shaman swallowed the mouthful he had just taken, then brought the cup to her lips and sipped. The taste of the herbs was strong, mildly bitter, but more akin to a tea than a poison. She let the water run over her lips and cover her tongue. When it did not burn or tingle, she swallowed.

&
nbsp; “Take your time,” Liliac said. “If you grow to like the taste of our drink we can bring you more.”

  Adel nodded, finishing the rest of the water in a few more sips. For the first time since approaching the shaman she felt herself releasing some of the tension that had kept her wolf near the surface. The beast receded, growing calm and quiet.

  “I do not know if my people will be happy to sit and share tales with yours,” she said, handing the cup back to him. “Few of them speak your tongue the way I do.”

  Liliac gestured to the wolves standing back by the trees. “It will do no harm to ask.”

  As Adel began to turn around she noticed the shaman hold up the cup to the light again, where everyone could see it. He threw it down into the canoe, where it clattered loudly against the wooden bottom. Unnerved by the deliberate gesture, Adel grasped for her wolf, trying to pull it back to the surface again. She was suddenly hesitant to turn her back on Liliac. The herbs couldn't have been a poison, but the way he'd held the cup up to his followers had seemed too deliberate.

  Adel tugged on the thread that bound her wolf within her, but it was like trying to grasp at handfuls of smoke. The beast was slipping deeper within her, further out of reach. With a gasp, she stumbled, straining with all her might, exerting the kind of effort that should have summoned her wolf within the blink of an eye. She shook visibly, feeling her blood pounding in her ears from the strain.

  She realised, too late, what significance the cup must have held. Liliac would not have shared a poison with her unless it was one that would have no effect on Sun People. The herbs had put her wolf to sleep.

  Without breaking his conversational tone, the shaman made another gesture to his warriors and said, “It must be now.”

  Straining with the effort of trying to call her wolf, Adel did not manage to voice her cry of warning before the man holding Liliac's canoe snapped back his bowstring and shot her.

  —5—

  Deathly Currents

  Caspian had felt his suspicion mounting from the moment the exchange began. It was not the shaman, but the men watching from the canoes that unnerved him. Unlike the amicable Liliac they kept exchanging tense glances with one another. They were waiting for something.

  Inching his paws forward through the leaves, Caspian moved himself closer. Even half a pace might make a difference if something happened, and he did not like the way the shaman had been drawing Adel over to the river. Yet despite his reservations, the exchange seemed to be going well. Adel and Liliac embraced, shared water, and offered their exchange of gifts. Then Adel stumbled, and in her expression Caspian saw that she had been struck by some grave revelation. Whatever it was, it was all the warning he needed. Something had gone terribly wrong.

  He coiled his legs, ready to dart forward, then the warrior raised his bow and fired.

  It was like Liliac had touched a flame to bundle of bone-dry tinder. In a flash every man behind him was moving, half of them drawing bows and raising spears while the rest dove their hands into the water and yanked on ropes tied to the ends of the banked canoes. Adel fell with a groan, an arrow protruding from the back of her thigh.

  Caspian and the other wolves could have been upon them in an instant, but the Sun People were prepared. Before Adel's warriors could reach the shore a volley of arrows and javelins met them head on, thudding into flesh and forest alike. Two of the warriors beside Caspian fell. Those quicker to react scattered, seeking cover behind bushes and the trunks of nearby trees. Behind him the forest was alive with noise, voices yelling and wolves barking as the rest of Adel's followers took their animal forms. Looking across the clearing anxiously, Caspian saw that Netya was unharmed. Fern had grabbed her and pulled her to the ground, but she had not yet taken the shape of her wolf. Instead she was calling out to Kiren, urging the girl to run.

  Knowing that he had mere moments to act, Caspian barked in Orec's direction and darted into the trees, relying on the cover of the forest to protect him as he ran toward the river. Through the gaps in the foliage he saw only flashes of what was happening on the shore—Kiren snatching the blade from Adel's hand, swinging it at one of her attackers, then a cry and a spray of blood. A net had ensnared Adel and was dragging her into the shallows, hauled by ropes like the ones attached to the canoes. The noise was astounding; cries of battle and splashing water, wolves howling, men bellowing, and a great tearing of earth and roots as the Sun People hauled on one of their ropes and pulled a tree loose from the riverbank.

  Orec and one other warrior were at Caspian's side. They still had time to reach Kiren and Adel before the Sun People escaped into the river. Caspian pulled himself back at the last instant as another volley of arrows rattled into the undergrowth around him, losing precious moments of momentum. Curse these Sun People! They knew they could not win a fight, but they could delay their enemies long enough to take what they had come for. Adel was thrashing in the water now, half-drowning as the Sun People hauled her toward their canoes like fishermen drawing in their catch. Liliac grappled with Kiren, the girl waist-deep in the water as she struggled to throw him out of his canoe. She had slashed the rope connecting it to the others, but she'd dropped the metal blade at some point. A body lay in the water behind her, blood blossoming out around it in a red cloud.

  Dismay seized Caspian as he realised that Adel was too far out of reach. He had only moments to make his decision. It was death to stand out in the open against those bows, but the Sun People were not shooting at Kiren for fear of hitting Liliac. Adel might be gone, but Kiren was not. Weaving from side to side, Caspian ran out into the open. His fur twitched as the brush of an arrow grazed past him. On the other side of the clearing a second group of Orec's warriors had had the same idea as him, rushing to the river under the cover of the trees, and now they were leaping across the water to grapple with a handful of Sun People who had brought their canoes too close to the shore.

  Using the body of the fallen bowman as a stepping stone, Caspian leaped out across the shallows and plunged into the water alongside Kiren. The impact of his wolf's body crashing into the river sent Liliac's canoe rocking uncontrollably from side to side. With a triumphant cry from Kiren the vessel overturned, sending the shaman sprawling into the water.

  Kiren, down! Caspian tried to yell, but he could only voice an urgent bark. The moment Liliac was out of the way a heavy throwing stick whipped toward Kiren from one of the other canoes, smashing a chunk of wood from the side of the shaman's overturned vessel as it bounced off. Feeling his fur weighing him down, Caspian reverted from the shape of his wolf and tried to reach out for Kiren, but the girl was already swimming after Liliac. He drew his hand back with a grunt of pain as an arrow clipped his arm, the rest of the volley thudding into the canoe beside his head. The rhythmic thunk, thunk of stone arrowheads burying themselves in wood sounded again, keeping him pinned behind the barrier. He reached beneath the water and gripped the canoe's edge, feeling for the riverbed with his feet so that his cover would not drift away. His muscles burned, feet scrabbling across sandy soil as he fought to hold back the weight of the hollow tree trunk against the tug of the current. For a moment he felt the canoe slipping away from him, then the weight eased. He snapped his head around to see Orec beside him, the alpha's wet beard glistening with blood as he braced his shoulder beneath the upturned vessel.

  “Can't reach them,” Orec panted, his voice heavy with pain.

  “We can't leave them,” Caspian replied. Without needing to say any more the alpha gave him a nod of understanding.

  Over on the other side of the clearing Adel's warriors had managed to climb across some of the Sun People's canoes, turning the interconnected flotilla against itself as they leaped from one vessel to the next, killing anyone in their way. Seeing a thin javelin floating by, Caspian risked reaching out for it. He managed to steal a quick glance at the canoes nearby, judging correctly that the archers had turned their attention away from him and toward the wolves attacking from the other side
of the clearing. To his amazement, he saw that Kiren was still alive. She had managed to swim after Liliac and was trying to pull him back into the water. The shaman had one leg over the edge of a canoe, but this one refused to topple over. It had been bound to two others with several poles running crossways between them. Liliac had the aid of two more men assisting him while another struggled to counterbalance their weight on the other side. From the corner of his eye Caspian caught sight of Adel's limp body being hauled out of the water. He prayed she was only stunned and not dead.

  One of the archers glanced Caspian's way, and he ducked back behind the canoe before the man's arrow could find him. The shaft splashed into the water where he had been standing and bobbed away into the blood-tinged current. He and Orec were trapped where they were, but that did not mean they were completely useless in this fight. If only they could draw some of the arrows away from their companions, that might be enough to turn the tide.

  With a roaring battle cry Caspian began to beat his salvaged javelin against the side of the canoe, throwing up great splashes of river water alongside it. Orec joined him, filling his lungs and adding his own bellowing voice to the cry. A pattering of arrows and another javelin riddled the water around them in response.

  Working his way around Orec, Caspian moved to the other end of the canoe and ducked his head out from behind it, stealing another glance at the battle. What he saw sent a spike of panic through his heart. Kiren had fallen back into the water and Liliac was gesturing frantically to his men, calling “Take her! Her too!” One of the Sun People reached out with his spear and snagged Kiren's clothing, drawing her body back in before the current could carry her away. Yet Liliac's voice had not been the one to fill Caspian with fear. On the other side of the battle another person was calling.