Authors: Robert Leader
There were huge fern-like plants growing on the forest floor, tangles of black briar bushes, and other growths that she could not liken to anything she knew. Where a tree had fallen and rotted, the carcass would be cocooned in an evil-looking mess of parasitic fungi, relieved by the vivid reds and yellows of some of the strangling growths. There was no other colour here. Even the trees had no real leaves. They were clothed instead in close needles of dark green.
Maryam looked for signs of life but saw none. There were no visible birds and no squirrels or monkeys in the high branches. As far as she could see, these strange trees with their unpalatable needles offered nothing good to eat for either bird or mammal. However, from time to time, she sensed rustling and movement behind the barriers of giant bracken. Her three companions had pulled their fur cloaks close, but had made sure that their white-fire hand weapons were not obstructed should they need to draw them quickly. There were predators of some kind at ground level, so there had to be prey animals too. Unless the predators only preyed on passing strangers on horseback. Maryam shuddered and decided not to ask.
The track they followed was occasionally overgrown, but clearly defined. Raven led, using what he called a com-map, a small screen device which showed the contours of the terrain ahead, and into which he had keyed the coordinates for their destination. A red arrow marked their location on the screen and also pointed the direction to the stronghold they were seeking. Maryam did not fully understand its usefulness, but it was just another of the many things on this world which she still did not fully understand. She could only trust to Raven's judgement.
They rode for what remained of the daylight hours, sometimes at a walk and sometimes at a canter, depending upon the state of the track. Despite their awesome size, the horses were well-trained and accustomed to carrying saddles and riders, and Maryam found she had little need to control the animal beneath her. When Raven spurred his mount to a faster trot, her mount automatically followed suit. Behind her, the horses carrying Taron and Garl also adjusted their own pace as required. The four animals were a team, three of them following the leader whom Raven directed. Maryam only had to hold a loose rein and the knowing horse did the rest.
At last the shadows thickened between the massed ranks of the tree trunks, becoming impenetrable as the dying light filtered away through the branches above. Raven found a clearing beside a small stream that cut the trail and called a halt. The three Gheddans dismounted, and to Maryam's surprise, Taron came forward and cupped his hands for her boot to help her down. She thanked him with a smile and again he grinned.
They made a simple camp. Raven produced a large metal spike from his pack which he hammered into the soft earth, and all four horses were tethered to it in a star formation, rump to rump, facing outward. Maryam watched and guessed that in this way no single mount could be attacked by a predator from behind. Again it was an indication that these black woods were not as devoid of life as they seemed. The horses were fed with grain from the saddle bags and provided with leather water buckets filled from the stream.
Maryam helped Raven to care for the horses while Taron and Garl found sticks for a fire. Soon they had a comforting blaze going, and outside the range of the flamelight, there was now total darkness. Their pack rations were dehydrated vegetables and meat, which when mixed with water and heated made a passable stew. Again they all ate hungrily.
“How much further to your stronghold?” Taron asked between mouthfuls.
“Another full day's ride,” Raven answered him. “Perhaps a few hours more.
“It is many years since I rode this way. I have only returned twice since I joined the Space Corps, and for each of those visits, Karn was able to supply me with a rotor-flyer.”
“But not today,” Taron mused softly.
“Today the Sword Lord Doran has ordered all the available rotor-flyers to take part in a military exercise.” Raven reminded them of Karn's words and smiled, his teeth glinting in the firelight. “So we ride.”
“And Karn is Doran's enemy,” Taron said idly.
“And you are Karn's Sword Champion,” Garl added as he casually picked his teeth.
Raven nodded. “You understand the picture. It could be an interesting night.”
They all laughed.
“The whole journey could be fun,” Taron said at last. “How many swords hold your stronghold?”
Raven shrugged. “Fifty, give or take a blade. Some of the older men may have died since my last visit, some of the young ones will have come of age.”
“How strong are your enemies?”
“Brack probably controls some sixty swords. Raige, perhaps a few more.
“But Stronghold Raven is in a good defensive position. Brack and Raige could probably lose half their blades and still not storm its walls. My brothers are solid and will sit tight. Brack will have to try and starve them out.”
Maryam looked from one unconcerned face to another. “And you think to end all this by killing just one man?” she demanded of Raven.
“Brack has issued a sword challenge,” Raven explained calmly. “When I accept it, he cannot back down. Raige can kiss my sword or die. It is his choice. Within a few hours, it will all be settled.”
Maryam bit her lip and said no more. The man talk continued for a little longer and then died away. Garl rose and piled more wood onto the fire, and then they all rolled into their furs and blankets and lay down to sleep. Maryam could feel the cold gnawing into her bones and her thoughts refused to be still. She ached in every joint, but it had been a long hard day and she was more exhausted than she realized. Her eyelids closed and slowly her mind stopped spinning.
Â
She never knew whether Raven and the others had slept at all, or whether they had simply lain awake and waited for what they knew was coming. She only knew that one moment she was asleep, and the next a shaft of lazer light had ripped into the fire and scattered flaming firebrands above her head in every direction. She sat bolt upright with hand lazers flashing all around her and the horses screaming in terror. Raven, Garl and Taron had all rolled clear of their blankets, away from the fire, and each man was still rolling and returning the criss-crossed lazer fire that streaked above the campsite.
Maryam cowered again, fumbling for the knife at her hip as she struggled clear of her blankets. She was between the rearing, panicking horses and the fire, and she realized later that Raven had deliberately placed her there for her own safety. The horses were valuable booty and their attackers had no desire to accidentally kill the animals with their white fire.
There were cries of pain and rage from beyond the firelight. Raven and his two companions frequently shifted direction as they rolled back and forth, and their more accurate shooting was tracking the enemy lightning bolts back to their source with deadly results. Firing from three sides also meant that the attacking forces were actually hitting each other with their hap-hazard crossfire.
There was a roar of command from the darkness, and abruptly the lazer fire stopped. From three sides, bulky shadows in thick furs charged with drawn swords replacing the hot hand weapons. As one man, Raven, Taron and Garl rose to their feet, smoothly exchanging their own hand lazers for their preferred drawn steel. Three swords clashed with at least a dozen enemy blades in hot and furious combat.
Maryam crouched by the fire, feeling small and helpless with only the short knife in her hand. She was ignored, as though the attackers considered her of no account, something that could easily be dealt with later. They saw the swords of the three Gheddans as the only real threat.
Raven met the first man of that headlong charge with a killing flourish that spun the sword from the other's hand and cut him dead across the throat. The dropped sword landed on the grass with a thud and skidded close to where Maryam crouched in horror as the dead man crashed face first into what remained of the fire. Raven killed another with two more lightning strokes, and then he was forced to defend against the combined assault of four slashing blades.
Taron and Garl had also killed the first men to reach them, and then they too were forced on the defensive. The air rang with screams and curses from their assailants, but Raven and his two crewmen fought with grim, silent ferocity.
Maryam stared at the sword blade that lay glinting in the firelight before her. The blade and hilt looked to be all made of the same cold steel and the hilt was within her reach. She stretched a hand toward it, felt its ice-cold hardness against her fingers, and hesitated. Sylve's blood had already stained her hands and she wanted no more.
She heard the grass rustle and a small twig snap to her left. She looked up and saw two more men in thick furs moving stealthily past the horses. They were circling to attack Raven from behind. One carried a sword and the other a double-headed axe that was already poised for a merciless swing at the back of Raven's skull.
“No!” Maryam shrieked.
She snatched up the fallen sword and leapt to her feet. Both men spun to face her, startled and surprised by her unexpected intrusion. She swung her captured blade to block the descending axe and the axe-man screamed as his fingers were severed and the axe handle chopped in two. As he reeled away clutching his bloodied hand, Maryam found herself facing his companion and fighting desperately for her life.
The steel sword in her hand was heavy and dragged at her arm, and for a few moments she thought that it must be smashed from her failing fingers. But the man before her was clumsy and swiftly she remembered the few tricks that Kananda had taught her. Three times she successfully deflected the enemy blade, and by then she had got the swing and the feel of her strange new weapon. She tightened her grip with more confidence and attacked.
The big man before her gave way, and then his rage at being forced back overcame any sense or skill. He battered his way forward again with an almighty swing that missed, and for a few seconds, they were chest to chest and face to face. The big man grinned and leered down at her, feeling his own dominant brute strength and power. His breath stank as he leaned close. Maryam remembered how she had bitten into Sylve's thigh and the immediate advantage the shock and pain had given her, and deliberately lunged forward and sank her sharp teeth just as deep in her new assailant's coarse, fleshy nose.
The man howled and pulled back. Maryam kicked him in the groin with all her strength and swung her sword again. The flat of the blade hammered against the side of his head and all but severed an ear. The man dropped his blade and staggered away, reeling like a drunkard into the darkness.
Maryam turned her head and saw Raven still hard-pressed. Another of their attackers died under his blade, but yet another was circling to get behind him. Maryam stepped between them and now her shoulders were hard against Raven's.
“Back to back!” she shouted, remembering how Kananda and Gujar, or Kananda and Kasim, had always defended themselves against a larger number of their playmates. Raven glanced briefly over his shoulder and his smile flashed toward her. Maryam flashed a smile in return, and then they both returned their attentions to their swordplay.
Taron and Garl were both defending themselves ferociously, but they heard Maryam's shout and saw the sense of what she was doing. They backed up against each other and now there was no opportunity for any of the attackers to move behind any of the defenders. Five of the attackers already sprawled dead around the campfire, and two more quickly went down under killing thrusts from Taron and Raven.
The tide of battle turned. There were only six or seven of the attacking force who had not either fallen or fled, and they began to falter and back off.
“They tire. Kill them.” A tall, lean-mouthed fellow shouted and charged again at Raven.
Raven recognized the voice that had ordered the first charge and stepped forward, his own blade flashing like bloodied quicksilver in the last of the firelight. The tall man parried the first few strokes and then lost the sequence. He parried again, but Raven's blade was not there. His eyes opened wide, knowing he had made his last mistake. Raven lunged neatly, his sword point passing through the other's open mouth and emerging at the back of his neck.
It was enough. Suddenly all of the others were stampeding in retreat. Taron and Garl lowered their red swords and relaxed. Raven withdrew his blade to let his last opponent drop, and casually wiped it clean on the dead man's furs.
Maryam stood there panting, looking at the others and hardly able to believe that all of them were still alive. Taron had a red scratch on his wrist and Garl a small cut on his cheek. Raven was unscathed. Maryam slowly lowered her own sword and looked down at her arms and body. There were splashes of red on her sleeves, but none of it was her own. She had not actually killed any of the men she had helped to drive off, and so there was no remorse as there had been over Sylve. In fact, in the aftermath of this encounter, there was none of the sense of guilt that had evolved from the feeling that as she had replaced Sylve, so she must also be partly responsible for Sylve's jealousy. These men who had attacked them had no such excuse, and for having helped to defeat them, she was actually feeling better.
Raven sheathed his sword and embraced her in a huge bear hug. Then his lips crushed hers in a passionate kiss.
“You fight even better than a Gheddan woman,” he told her. And she knew that was high praise indeed.
Taron and Garl hugged her in turn, although without the bruising kiss. It was their first sign of emotion or real friendship. Maryam was still shaking at the end of it all, but for the first time since she had arrived on this planet, she felt that she was accepted. Taron and Garl were showing her new respect, and although she no longer thought of Raven as her Blue God, she was now satisfied that she had proved herself worthy to be his mate.