The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (62 page)

“Not a fan of Kaidan, Cap?”

Kirin ran a hand across his face,
forced a smile. “Kaidan is a myth, no more. Silly stories told to entertain
kittens.”

“That a shark’s tooth you wear,
Cap?”

“A gift from my brother.”

“Kerris went to the ocean,”
sighed Fallon, hugging her knees and staring into the fire.

“Kerris has gone many places,
sidala.
Part of being an Imperial
guide.”

“Who brokered peace with the
Chi’Chen.
then?” Agoyian again,
insistent.

“Many cats over many years.”

“Kerris speaks
Chi’Chen,”
sighed Fallon.

“As I said, part of being an
Imperial guide.”

“You don’t believe he was thrown
in a pit for many months, then?”

“No one could survive in a pit
for many months.”

“Kerris hates pits,” sighed
Fallon.

“And that it was only his good
nature and constant singing that made them pull him out? He made allies out of
enemies, he did.”

“Kerris loves to sing,” sighed
Fallon.

“There is also a story that has
Kaidan roping and riding a Great Lung all the way up to the moon. Would you
believe that also?”

“Well… maybe not the moon bit,”
muttered the jaguar, but his eyes were still dancing.

“Kerris hauled up a baby behemoth
once, remember? And he was picked up by the mommy behemoth,” said Fallon, “He
told us, in the cave of the Ancestors—“

“Captain…?” It was Ursa, and
there was something in her voice that he had never heard before. He rose to his
feet and moved over to where she was sitting. The Seer did not look good. “He
is going to die tonight.”

“Yes.”

She nodded and in the moon’s
light, he thought he saw tears. He touched her shoulder, not knowing what else
to do. It all seemed wrong, somehow, just like in
Sha’Hadin,
when nothing belonged, nothing they did was right. He
set his jaw and sat down beside her to wait.

The first branch of the star had
almost reached the northern horizon, so far it was from the others, and as they
watched, they saw it flare and then, quite abruptly disappear. The Seer let out
a strangled cry, not quite gasp, not quite moan, and it pained Kirin to hear
it. Death was never pleasant, no matter how it came.

Another hour later, the second
branch sputtered, flared and disappeared over the west. No sound this time from
the Seer, and an hour later, the third branch disappeared, just winked out like
the snuffing out of a candle. Only two remained.

Agoyian took the second watch
from the Major, as she was not moving for anyone, and when the fourth branch
disappeared over the southern horizon, she became like a stone, a silver stone
with no movement whatsoever.

Finally, with all eyes on it, the
fifth and final branch of the star, Max the metal dragon, flared like a dying
torch, then went out, leaving them all in moonlight and darkness. The Seer
released a long, shuddering breath.

There was silence on these
not-so-big mountains.

And he breathed in again, and
then out.

Breathed, in and out.

In and out.

He yawned, stretched, blinked his
eyes open. Propped himself up on his elbows. Looked around at all the staring
faces.

“Is there any of that sakeh left?
I am terribly thirsty…”

And that was that, the final
epitaph of Max, the metal dragon, who had lived above the Upper Kingdom –
above all the Kingdoms actually – for more years than the Kingdoms
themselves had seen. And of course, there was no sign of Solomon either.

***

Dawn over mountains is always a
breathtaking sight.

The golden sun sends her rays
first to the peaks, which shine like tips of brightly polished daggers. Then
the edges of the mountains glow with color, sometimes pink, sometimes purple,
sometimes a striking orange. That morning the color was red, and the sky began
to streak with crimson and burgundy and wine. Colors of warmth and
companionship and blood.

That morning, the
Gowrain
attacked.

They had sent the falcon, Path,
on ahead of them with a message for the Magistrate of
Sharan’yurthah,
asking him to prepare for their arrival and to send
a company out into the desert to meet them with supplies. Much of their water
had been used on the Seer, and he had been most displeased to find his many
layers of dark linens damp and now full of sand. (Cats are never good with
water at the best of times, even when it is used in the saving of one’s life.
Sand and water is worse, for it is doubly annoying. It is a peculiar thing but
cats are after all, a peculiar people.) They had been very deliberate in saying
nothing as he pulled layer after layer of desert wear over the sleeveless
tunic, and they had also made it a point not to look at him, which in an odd
way, says more than words in circumstances such as these. To his credit, he did
not make a point of it, and said nothing himself on the matter. But perhaps
what is more, he did not look at any of them either.

Peculiar.

So as they mounted up to head out
into the spectacular light of dawn, a light and merry mood fell upon them. They
were in
Hirak
now. Only one more day
from mountain to foothill, and then two at most to the border town of
Sharan’yurthah.
Then and only then,
after many long months of riding, would the real adventure begin.

Kirin could hear snatches of
conversation.

“So do you believe in Kaidan,
Sherah?” asked the Scholar, who seemed to have abandoned her newfound hatred
for her Captain in favor of her old happy and easy-going nature. The Captain
thought it was a most welcome thing.

Sherah, riding immediately behind
her, agreed. “Oh yes. He is from
Agara’tha.”

“Oh. Kaidan is an Alchemist?”

“Of course.”

Kirin shook his head, ears
swiveling to pick up yet another scrap of conversation.

“It was a very long dream.”

“Pah. Theatrics.”

 
“Sometimes. But this dream was terrible.
I wished desperately to awaken, but could not.”

“How sad. Maybe I shall weep for
you next time you almost die.”

Kirin grinned. The Major’s tone
was anything but sad.

“Thank you, Major. As always, I’m
touched.”

“So what did you dream about,
idiot?”

“Bears.”

He reined in alMassay, raised a
hand to call a halt to the journey, and jogged over to the bickering pair.

“Bears,
sidi?
Did I hear you say you were dreaming about bears?”

Agoyian had heard as well and
pulled his tough little horse alongside.

Sireth looked from one to the
other. “Indeed. I was afraid that when I woke, you would all be dead. Well, not
all…”

Kirin could not stop the lash of
his tail. “Tell me.”

“It was simply a dream, Captain.
Not a vision. They have a different sense.”

“Tell me,
sidi.
If you please.” It was not a request.

“Ah. Very well. They attacked at
dawn, three of them, two browns and a black. They killed our guide here, both
Wing and Luke, and left poor Oded with only one arm…”

Oded, at the head of the caravan,
swallowed and looked around nervously.

Kirin ground his molars for
several heartbeats. “It was simply a dream, you say.”

Now the Seer swallowed. “I can
meditate now, if you’d like. Try to find the thread and follow it…”

“Do.” He swung his horse toward
the guide. “They have a heavy scent, do they not?”

“Yeah. Like decaying meat. You
can’t miss it.”

And for several heartbeats more,
they all sat on their horses, breathing deeply, sifting the early morning
breeze for the stench of
Gowrain,
but
there was nothing.

“They always have this scent?
Always?”

“Well, I’ve only encountered them
twice, but from all the stories –“

“Stories?
Stories?!
Like ‘Kaidan riding his Great Lung to the moon’ stories?”

Lions are not generally known for
their patience. Lions are not generally known for their generosity.What they
are
generally known for is their sense
of good form. Lion soldiers even so, with the
Bushido
teaching them control of the tongue and the preservation of
honor. So when these words left the Captain’s mouth, he cursed them for he knew
what he had done and that all the responsibility for what was to happen would
fall on his shoulders, and his alone.

For the sharp eyes of the jaguar,
Rhan Agoyian, flashed at the insult and he wheeled his small horse back onto
the path. It was then that the first bear rose from behind a mound of mountain
rock, pulling itself to its full height of nearly two men. It bellowed,
swinging a great, clawed hand across the head of the Mongolian horse, sending
it careening into the rocks beside and sending the jaguar tumbling off and onto
the path at its shaggy feet.

The bear was upon him in an
instant.

The leopard, Oded, drew his long
sword and charged at the beast, just as a second bear lumbered onto the path
from behind. Luke and Wing wheeled their mounts, swords drawn and likewise
charged, but at that moment, something blocked out the first rays of morning
and a massive shape towered on the bluffs high above them, thick shaggy arms
holding something of considerable weight within its grasp.

A rock the size of a small horse
plummeted down, striking Wing in the head and shoulders and knocking him off
his staggering mount. There was little left of him to hit the ground. The
Major’s silver shirh’khins sliced the air, thudding into the deep shaggy pelt
of the creature. It roared in pain, but bent to find another rock even as she
began to scale the cliff to meet him.

With swords in both hands, Kirin
leapt from alMassay’s back and ran headlong toward the first bear. The desert
horses squealed and scattered, only adding to the chaos, and it was all the
three civilians could do to stay on their horses, although Fallon was not
convinced that being on horseback was the safest place at the moment. One slip
of a hoof would mean a very long and possibly deadly fall for both horse and
rider.

Two swords against two massive
clawed hands was the fight at the rear, but Luke was no match for the sheer
size and strength of the creature and he was sent spinning into the rock face,
blood splaying against the stone. Fallon whirled upon the Alchemist.

“Sherah! Fire powder!”

The Alchemist glared at her,
clearly not understanding.

“Like the rats at
Roar’pundih!”

Another Broken Road. The cheetah
threw a long look toward the fight ahead, where the Captain and one leopard
were furiously battling, and to the fight behind and the great beast now
lumbering towards them, knocking horse after horse to the ground with its
fists. With a sudden resolve, she snatched a pouch from across the back of her
mare, and sprang from her saddle, and taking a long deep breath, she began to stalk
toward the rear attacker, chanting the entire time in strange exotic keys.

High above them, Ursa was engaged
in a dance, the bear swinging, she evading and striking, and its black pelt was
crisscrossed with red.

Oded’s long sword found home,
spearing the great wide open mouth right through to the back of the throat and
beyond. It yanked its massive head back, taking the leopard with it but
allowing the Captain the opportunity to send his own katanah home through the
heart, the kodai’chi a perfect counterpoint into its dense belly. His desert
linens were sprayed with red.

The second bear advanced on the
Alchemist, as she swayed and moved, tossing fistful after fistful of the black
powder first into the air at its feet, legs and torso, then liberally high over
its head and neck and shoulders. It cursed her in the rough guttural tongue
they call a language, its hot rancid breath filling her nose with the smell of
death and she felt rather than saw the great paw arcing its way toward her. She
dropped to one knee, clapped her palms together over her head and a burst of
brilliant light flashed just as the blow hit home.

The bear erupted into flame,
howling and lumbering backwards, away from the horses, and to their credit,
both the Seer and Scholar rushed it, pushing it by force off the edge of the
path and tumbling head over feet down the embankment to the canyon below.

“Ursa!” shouted the Captain, and
purely by instinct she ducked, throwing herself quite vulnerably to the ground.
But she knew her Captain, and he had grabbed the hilt of his sword and sent it
spinning, blade over hilt, upwards and directly into the throat of the great
beast. She scrambled to her feet, leapt onto its staggering form and began to
saw.

It was over in a heartbeat, but
the devastation was complete. Oded knelt clutching his arm, the end of it a
bloody stump, bitten off in the jaws of his attacker. Wing was dead, head and
shoulders unseen under the huge rock. Luke was slumped at the base of the bluff
and so was Sherah, blood seeping down both their scalps and Rhan Agoyian was
writhing on the path, trying desperately to hold on to the slippery pinkness of
his middle.

Rarely had Kirin felt so helpless
as he surveyed the scene. Blood everywhere, and horses down too. Desert horses,
Imperial horses, Mongolian horses. Only one foal left. His little friend,
bleating for its dead mother. He felt the rage building inside, swallowed it
back down, flung a hand out toward the Seer and Scholar.

“See to the leopard and the
Alchemist. We need to leave at once.”

Both Seer and Scholar stared at
him, but he turned his back to them and took one shaky step forward. Sometimes
the shortest journeys, as well as the longest, began with that same single
step. He continued on, stopping by Oded who was cradling his severed arm, and
laid a hand on what was left, just above the elbow.