Sebastian Darke: Prince of Explorers (8 page)

'Umm . . .well . . . that's just part of what we're doing. You see, although your warriors are excellent hunters and they fight very well as individuals . . . even in small teams . . . the Jilith must learn to fight as an army.'

'This has never been our way,' said Maccan.

'I understand that, but you must fight fire with fire. General Darvon has a powerful army and the Jilith cannot hope to defeat it unless they have one too. So I am teaching your people to fight as one. We have already made great improvements and I have formulated an ingenious plan to defeat the Gograth. I would like your permission, Great Chief, to begin preparations for a final conflict. One that will rid you of their threat for ever.'

Maccan looked thoughtful. 'I admit it sounds like a wonderful thing – and it
is
foretold in the old stories that the Chosen One will come to rid us of our enemies.' He glanced at Danthus. 'What say you, shaman? Can the Chosen One and the little general do what they promise?'

Danthus frowned. He reached into the animal-skin pouch that hung around his neck and pulled out what looked like a series of strangely shaped bones. He crouched down and threw the bones onto the ground. Then he stared at them intently, as if puzzling them out.

'What's he looking for?' muttered Max ungraciously. 'A weather forecast?'

'Shush!' hissed Sebastian.

Now Danthus was waving a gnarled hand over the bones, his eyelids fluttering. 'Okrin, the goddess of the forest, speaks to me,' he announced.

Max glanced around. 'I didn't hear anything,' he muttered. He looked at Cornelius. 'Did you hear anything?' Cornelius glared at him.

'She tells me that we should trust the strangers,' said Danthus. 'She says that they are capable of making good on their promise.'

'She's clearly no mug,' observed Max, and then winced as Cornelius's hand came out and slapped him across the rump. 'Ow!' he complained. 'Do you mind?'

'But Okrin says that if they do not succeed, they must be banished from this place and never allowed to return.'

'Oh, well, that's charming, isn't it? Of all the ungratefu—' Max broke off abruptly because Cornelius had now moved across to him and clamped his jaws shut.

The Golmiran bowed to Maccan. 'Ignore the buffalope, Great Chief,' he said. 'The icara has made him talk nonsense. And fear not, I shall deliver you from the Gograth. All I ask is that you help us with our quest to find the lost city of Mendip.'

Maccan bowed in return. 'Rid me of my enemies and I shall do whatever you ask,' he said. 'You have my word on it.' He looked around. 'And now,' he roared, 'music! Dancing! And more icara!'

Sebastian woke the next morning to the sounds of industry: the thudding of axes against wood, the crunching of spades delving into stony soil and the unmistakable noise of Cornelius barking orders.

Sebastian groaned and shook himself awake. The party had gone on until dawn and he felt quite exhausted. He remembered dancing wildly with Keera at one point, and Cornelius had been dragged from his seat by a huge woman with red hair and thrown around like a rag doll. Sebastian and Cornelius had stopped drinking icara pretty quickly, but unfortunately Max had not. He had even joined in the dance, flailing around madly, kicking up his hooves and bellowing some old buffalope songs. At one point a back leg had flung up the embers from a fire and scattered them in all directions, sending people running for cover.

Sebastian glanced around the interior of the hut and saw the strange bone-and-feather headdress that Maccan had presented to him; it rested on the handle of a sword, its blade stabbed deep into the earth. Outside, people continued to work, and though he really felt like pulling the animal-hide covers over his head and going back to sleep, he realized that he would have to show willing. He dragged himself up, pulled on his clothes, then stumbled outside, blinking in the harsh light of the early morning.

A short distance from the guesthouse, a couple of burly warriors were assembling a rough wooden structure that looked like a large cart. They were using primitive tools and Sebastian noticed a pair of rough-hewn wheels waiting to be fitted – though he had previously seen no evidence that these people even knew about wheels.

A little way further on, a second group of warriors were digging a shallow trench, big enough to enclose the central cluster of huts. A group of women followed behind them, packing the trench tightly with large bales of what looked like straw. Sebastian spotted Cornelius and Max supervising one group of diggers and wandered over to them.

'What's going on?' he asked feebly. 'And whatever it is, do you have to do it quite so early?'

'Ah, Sebastian, I was wondering when you were going to surface!' said Cornelius. 'What's the matter? You look a little weary.'

'Can you wonder?' he cried. 'We only got to sleep a few moments ago. Aren't you tired?'

Cornelius shrugged. 'I felt a little bleary-eyed when I got up at first light,' he admitted, 'but that soon passed. And besides, there was work to be done.'

'What about you, Max?' ventured Sebastian. 'You must be feeling rough after all the icara you put away.'

Max affected a look of unconcern, but his eyes were strangely unfocused and Sebastian could tell he was suffering. 'We buffalope are renowned for our hardy constitutions,' he said. 'And luckily, I was pacing myself. I know when to say "enough".'

'Really? I didn't hear you mention that word last night,' said Sebastian disparagingly. 'I believe I heard you yell "more" quite often, though.'

Max rolled his eyes. 'Such an exaggerator,' he said. 'I only drank that stuff to be polite.'

'And you're feeling terrible?' Sebastian asked him.

'Not one bit.'

Cornelius gestured around at the partially completed circle. 'Well, what do you think?' he asked.

Sebastian frowned. 'Umm . . . well, at first glance I thought you were digging a trench, but it's clearly not deep enough to hide men in; and besides, you're packing it with that yellow stuff.'

'Well spotted.' Cornelius and Max exchanged knowing looks. Then the little warrior leaned down and scooped up a handful of the straw-like substance. 'This "yellow stuff", as you call it, is called conflagrus: it grows wild in the jungle. The Jilith have been using it since time began. Watch this.' Cornelius stepped away from the circle and dropped the lump of weed onto the ground. Then he knelt down beside it and took his tinderbox from his belt. He struck one spark and let it fall onto the weed. Immediately the clump erupted into flame, a high bright flame that seemed to give off intense heat. 'The Jilith use this stuff as kindling and to make torches,' he said. 'It burns hot and bright and for a surprisingly long time.'

'So?' Sebastian was feeling too tired to do much thinking.

'So it's going to be one of the secret weapons that will give us total domination over the Gograth,' said Cornelius.

'I don't understand,' said Sebastian.

'One spark in this lot and it'll go up like a whole pile of thunder-sticks,' said Cornelius. 'They won't know what hit them.'

'What if it rains?' asked Max.

Cornelius glared at him. 'It won't rain,' he said. 'It hasn't rained since we arrived here.'

'It must rain
sometimes
,' said Max. 'Look at all the greenery around us. I bet it rains for days on end. How will you set light to it then?'

'It
won't
rain,' said Cornelius, through gritted teeth. 'Suffice it to say that when the Gograth attack the village, the conflagrus is going to be one of the elements we shall use to destroy them.'

'Don't you mean
if
they attack the village?' said Sebastian.

'No, I mean
when
. And fire will be only one of our weapons.'

'The other one is me,' said Max, looking rather pleased with himself. '
I'm
secret weapon number two, but don't tell anybody – it's a secret.'

'Not
just
you,' Cornelius reminded him. 'Max will be pulling the war wagon.' He pointed to where the warriors were piecing together their wooden contraption. 'My own design, adapted from a Golmiran battle sleigh. Those poor Gograth don't know what they're in for.'

Sebastian stared at the trenches. He wasn't yet sure exactly how they were going to work; indeed, there was part of him that didn't really
want
to know. 'What about Max?' he asked. 'Won't he be very vulnerable?'

'Yes,' said Max, suddenly looking a little worried. 'Won't it be dangerous?'

'Not at all,' snorted Cornelius. 'You remember – we discussed this. You're to have your own armour.'

'Armour?' said Sebastian.

'Yes. We're going to make him a special suit made from layers of rusa hide, tough enough to withstand attack from arrows and spears.'

Max smiled proudly. 'Oh yes, I forgot about that bit.

Cornelius says I'll be like some invincible beast rampaging through the midst of the enemy. He says I'll probably be part of the Jilith's stories in years to come.'

Sebastian frowned. 'Hmm. The one about the fabulous talking buffalope that turned into a great hairy pincushion?'

Max's mouth fell open. He looked at Cornelius. 'I thought you said my armour would be tough enough to stop arrows!'

'It will be!' Cornelius glared at Sebastian. 'Stop trying to put the wind up Max,' he growled. 'He already has more than his fair share!'

'You don't think you're rushing things, do you?' said Sebastian. 'I mean, you've only been training the Jilith for a short time – I'm not at all convinced that they're ready.'

'Of course they're ready!' snapped Cornelius. 'You'll see when the Gograth attack—'

'You keep saying that, but how can you know that they will?'

'Because we'll provoke them into it. I'm tired of waiting around for something to happen. You see, up until now the Jilith have always adopted a defensive role. Oh, they fight like demons when they are attacked, but they have always allowed the Gograth to make the first move. This time
we'll
strike the opening blow, we'll draw the first blood. Then we'll retreat in apparent disorder, back to the village. If this General Darvon is the kind of creature I think he is, he'll see this as a terrible insult – he'll
have
to come after us. We'll lure his army into the trap . . . and then we'll deal with them.'

Sebastian nodded. 'It seems thorough enough,' he admitted. 'If a bit brutal.'

Cornelius raised his eyebrows. 'Brutal?' he echoed. 'The Gograth were hardly gentle with us, were they?'

'Well, no . . .'

'They tried to kill us on sight and you were lucky to survive the attack. And you heard the stories Maccan told us about them – the terrible things they've done to this tribe. Women and children murdered in cold blood. I wouldn't waste any time worrying about them.'

'Yes, but . . . it sounds like you're planning to destroy their entire tribe.'

'That's about the size of it,' agreed Cornelius.

'Good enough for 'em!' sniffed Max. 'Great hairy bullies, the lot of 'em. The jungle will be a better place without 'em.'

'You may be right,' agreed Sebastian reluctantly; but somehow he couldn't convince himself that this plan was acceptable. 'I mean, yes, the Gograth are brutal – but is that any excuse to sink to their level?'

'Sebastian!'