The Hunter Victorious (33 page)

The musicians threw down their instruments, the guards tossed aside their weapons, even the priests abandoned their accoutrements
of office, and as one, regardless of rank, the crowd raced for shelter.

There was no shelter to be found close to the shore, which was exposed to the full brunt of the wind and the elements. As
they hurried toward the path which would lead them into the foothills and thence through the mountains, it seemed to Braldt
that the ground felt uncertain beneath his feet. It was solid, that was not the problem, but somehow it seemed not to be where
it should be when his feet came down. He felt as though hè were walking on a quaking swamp. But that could not be, for the
ground was frozen solid. He became aware of other people having similar difficulties around him. Everywhere people were stumbling
and falling off balance. Braldt halted his flight and clutched Keri close to his chest. Beast
hung at his heels and crouched low, growling and snapping his jaws, searching for the source of the danger which he too sensed.

Once they were still, the danger was immediately apparent. It was the ground itself which appeared to be trembling, vibrating
just enough to cause the earth to move underfoot.

The advance wave of the crowd had reached the top of the first of the foothills, a small rise from which it was possible to
see the spread of mountains that lay beyond. They began to scream. Many of them covered their eyes; some of the women began
to cry. Braldt hurried forward, his heart hammering in his chest, suddenly afraid of what he would find.

It was an impossible sight, one which his mind and eyes had difficulty accepting. The mountains were moving. As far as the
eye could see, the mountains appeared to be shaking from side to side as well as moving up and down. The entire landscape
was in a state of upheaval. As Braldt watched in disbelief, the entire side of a mountain seemed to break away and fall into
the valley below with a roar that was clearly audible despite the distance that separated them. That was merely the opening
salvo. A peak that was much closer to them seemed to tear itself in half, one section falling slowly toward them, the other
vanishing in a cloud of dust.

The remainder of the crowd had joined them on the small summit and together they watched as the entire mountain range crumbled
and shook itself into ruin. It was no longer possible to stand. The violence beneath their feet was too great. The great mass
of people, all that remained of the once mighty Scandi empire, huddled together and watched their world destroy itself. There
was no longer any thought of returning to the mountain they had named Aasgard. Even if they could have reached it without
losing their lives, there was no longer any point in doing so. Anyone who had been
inside the mountain when the quake struck was no longer alive.

They could not remain where they were; they would freeze to death before the quake could kill them if they did not find shelter.
Braldt covered Keri’s face with a corner of his polyskin cloak, shielding her from the wind and sleet as well as the horrible
sight and wracked his brain for a place of safety. And then it came to him: the great sky craft, the ship that flew through
the heavens! Barat Krol had damaged it, prevented it from rising. It might never sail the skies again but it might provide
some form of safety from the elements.

He voiced his thoughts to Uba Mintch and Barat Krol, who had made their way through the crowd and crouched at Braldt’s side.
Braldt never knew what ignited the crowd. Perhaps he had spoken too loudly; perhaps he was not the only one who thought of
the great ship. Whatever the reason, almost immediately the entire mob reversed itself, flowing down the foothill like a surge
of tidewater, and raced along the shore toward the plain where the spacecraft was moored.

Carrying Keri, who hung limp and uncaring in his arms, Braldt was overtaken and passed by the majority of the panic-stricken
crowd. Only Barat Krol and Uba Mintch stayed at his side. Barat Krol gave him a lopsided grin. “Do you think they will attempt
to fly the ship?”

“How could they?” asked Braldt, stumbling along the ice-coated rocks. “You have made certain that it will not fly true.”

“They do not know this,” Barat Krol pointed out.

“They cannot fly it; they do not possess the necessary skills. Nor is there enough room. Surely they would not attempt to
leave if all could not go.”

Barat Krol shook his head and grinned at Braldt wryly. “Ah, my friend, I am glad that I do not have the same dumb
trust that you enjoy. I would have been a rug before some Scandi’s fireplace had I been so naïve.”

Braldt was unable to concentrate on discussions of man’s nature. Other thoughts were demanding to be heard.

“What about Septua and Mirna and the old ones, Brandtson and Saxo? Do you think that they might have gotten out?”

Barat Krol shook his head. “Septua and Mirna, perhaps. Those two are survivors; if there was a way, they would find it. But
Saxo and Brandtson…” Barat Krol shook his head. “I do not see how, my friend. Those mountains…”

They were making their way along the shore. Talk became impossible as the footing became more treacherous. The rocks were
tilted at awkward angles and coated with ice and moved continuously in jittery, unpredictable ways. Braldt was consumed with
worry for himself and Keri, and with grief for those who had died. He felt numbed by the painful memory of Carn’s death. Even
the treachery he had committed could not erase the love that had bound them together for so many years. To Braldt, he would
always be a brother. Braldt could easily understand the depth of Keri’s grief. But now it was necessary for them to concentrate
on their own problems, their own lives, or they would be joining the dead themselves.

Braldt stopped for a moment to catch his breath as well as his footing before attempting a dangerous stretch of broken shoreline.
Beast whined and pressed himself against Braldt. Braldt looked up and his breath caught in his throat. Coming in from the
sea, heading directly for the shore, was an immense, towering wave, far taller than any normal wave, a solid wall of icy gray
water.

Braldt yelled out a warning, but no one could hear him—his voice was lost in the tumult of wind, rain, sleet, and waves. Far
ahead of him, the mass of people and Madrelli clawed their way along the storm-wracked shore. Chivalry and nobility were foreign
concepts now; it was every man,
woman, child, and beast for himself. They fought and shoved and hurled each other aside to gain mere inches. None of them
seemed aware of the giant wave that was moving toward them at a terrifying rate of speed.

Braldt and the Madrelli took shelter, such as it was, behind an upthrust slab of granite. Braldt wedged Keri up against the
rock and dragged Beast in as close as he could go. Beast needed no urging and wormed forward, wriggling into a tiny space
at Keri’s feet. He was panting and his amber eyes were wide and ringed with white. The animal was clearly terrified. Braldt
was no less frightened. Never had he seen such a thing. He chanced one last look and was held in a deadly fascination, watching
the vast mountain of water as it slid over the crest of other, lesser waves, absorbing them, growing larger still as it moved
majestically toward the land. A huge paw grabbed the back of his neck and forced his head down, pushed him into a crouch on
top of Keri and beast. He could smell the wet fur of the Madrelli and felt the heavy bulk of the others pressing him painfully
against the rock.

Then it was on them. There was a curious hush in the air as though the moving water had pushed a wave of air ahead of itself
to announce its passage. The wind and rain and sleet were blotted out, gone. The air was almost calm, though filled with a
sense of expectancy. He could even hear the tiny lappings of water upon the edge of the shore, hear the most minute sands
and stones grating against one another. It was an eerie experience and the tension was almost overwhelming.

They did not have long to wait. The wave struck them with such force that the huge rock they had chosen to protect them moved
in the ground, shifted like a loose tooth. For a moment Braldt was afraid that the rock would fall back upon them, crushing
them with its great weight, but it did not give way. The water surged around and over it, pounding down upon them with a force
that could not be believed. The water was
frigid, filled with bits of ice, and it sluiced into every crevice of their bodies and took hold with an icy grasp as it tried
to wrench them free.

Braldt felt the water lift him up, tug at his fingers, pull at his clothes. He felt Keri and Beast dragged against his legs
and dug his heels into the shifting sands, searching for a firm hold. The water streamed through his hair and stung his eyes,
plucked at his nostrils and mouth, attempting to gain access to his body.

He did not know how long the wave lasted, how long they were submerged. It felt like a lifetime. Two lifetimes. As the water
began to recede, it was even worse than the influx. Their lungs were already straining, burning from lack of oxygen, and now
the water was forcing against them in the opposite direction, trying to drag them out to sea.

When it passed, surging around their ankles as though unwilling to admit defeat, they were battered and drenched to the skin.
And Uba Mintch was gone.

None of them had felt him go. Barat Krol was wild with grief, beating himself upon the chest and running along the streaming
shore, crying out the old Madrelli’s name. Braldt wrapped his arms around him, restraining him, although the Madrelli’s strength
was much greater than his own, for he feared at one point that Barat Krol meant to fling himself into the sea and swim out
in search of his lost leader.

Braldt tried to reason with him. “You are chief now. You must lead them. What will become of them if you die too?” But it
did not seem as though the Madrelli heard his words. His great brown eyes were filled with tears and his huge frame shook
as he stared out to sea.

The great wave was gone, but, familiar with the nature of waves, Braldt knew that it would return. He must see to it that
the survivors too were gone before it returned. They would not live through a second such inundation.

Keri was breathing but appeared to be in shock. Her lips were blue and her skin was mottled with pasty white patches and veins
of red lines. Beast was shivering and miserable, but he was alive.

The shore ahead of them was devoid of life. Exposed and defenseless as the others were, the wave had carried them all away.

It was late afternoon before they reached the plain where the ship was moored. There no longer seemed to be the same driving
force to get there. A numb, unthinking, mechanical type of mentality had taken over. They were cold, colder than they had
ever been. Only the action of walking saved them from freezing, and even so, their extremities were numb and unfeeling. Their
hair and Barat Krol’s fur were caked with tangles of icicles, and Beast’s tail clinked as he walked.

When the ship came into sight, its bright silver nose cone reflecting dully in the sheets of endless lightning that lit up
the nightmare sky, they were astonished to discover that they were not the only survivors. A large number of others had reached
the ship as well. Perhaps they had been out of reach of the wave or, like Braldt and his companions, had managed to hold on
to something and save themselves.

As they hurried toward the ship, overjoyed to find that they were not alone, they slowly realized that some sort of conflict
was taking place at the base of the great ship. Alarms began to go off in Braldt’s head and he held out an arm to stop Barat
Krol from going any farther. The Madrelli looked up at him with dull, grief-stricken eyes, uncomprehending of anything except
his own pain, all too willing to allow him to take the lead.

“Something’s wrong,” Braldt muttered, staring at the scene more closely. There was fighting at the base and sides of the ship.
Many had already fallen, their bodies trod upon by others as they attempted to heave themselves up the gantry.
Others—the king’s guards, primarily—appeared to be holding them off, using swords and whatever weapons were available to them.
One of the guards appeared to be dismantling bits of the gantry network and hurling it down upon those who were attempting
to gain access.

Braldt could not understand what he was seeing. Why was there such conflict? There was more than enough room for all of them
to shelter inside the ship, for the majority of their numbers had been killed in the desperate flight to reach the plain.

But logic did not appear to have any part of the fray and as his eyes traveled up the length of the gleaming vessel, Braldt
saw Skirnir perched in the open doorway, gesticulating wildly, giving frantic instructions to the captain of the guards. The
man nodded, touched his head in recognition of Skirnir’s right of power, and clambered down the gantry to carry out his orders.
Skirnir paused in the open door, looked out across the desolate plain, and seemed to savor what he saw. His eyes met Braldt’s
and despite the distance, Braldt saw the jolt of recognition that came into the man’s eyes as he recognized Braldt and his
companions. There was fear in those eyes, as well as malevolence and hatred. The eyes held for a long moment, and then Skirnir
stepped inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

The thin screech of the metal as it was dogged shut rang out like a shot in the thin, cold air, echoed in hundreds of desperate
ears as the crowd realized instantly what the sound signified. They flung themselves at the ship with renewed desperation,
attempting to reverse the action before it was too late.

But it was already too late. Keri sagged against Braldt, hugged tight inside the curve of his arm as a great whoosh burst
from the base of the ship, increasing in volume and pitch until it became necessary to cover one’s ears against the
sound. The sound was accompanied by fury as well, a blast of white-hot exhaust that thrust against the frozen earth and melted
the basework of the gantry, instantly killing all of those who clung to it and those in the immediate vicinity.