Warriors Of Latan

Chapter 10

Blade awoke with a swelling uproar from outside the hut in his ears, his head comfortably pillowed between a young woman's breasts, and one arm thrown around an older woman's shoulders.

He sat up and listened. He heard the trumpeting calls of the lizard-horses, the roaring and howling of the Great Hunters, war cries, cheers, and harsh laughter. He also heard an ugly undertone of screams of fear and pain. Once he heard a dreadful sobbing wail. There was despair in that wail-more despair than Blade thought any human being should ever have to feel.

«I think we have a victory,» said the older woman.

«Victory?» said Blade. He wasn't entirely awake and alert yet. It had been a long but entirely pleasant night.

«Over the Uchendi. The warriors have returned with those to be cleansed,» said the younger woman. «They are rejoicing. Let us do the same.» She ran her hand down Blade's chest to his groin.

Gently he plucked her hand away. The noise outside was arousing his curiosity more than anything else. After a moment the young woman sighed. «Well, as long as the Wise One keeps you among us, it is not so bad. We will have other times together.»

Blade grinned. «I thank you. But in time the Uchendi must have their share of my attention, or I am no warrior. Now let me get out and see those I shall fight.»

Blade stepped out of the hut into a chilly gray morning and an uproar that was still getting louder. He headed for the nearest screams, rounded the corner of a hut, and saw his first Uchendi.

She was a girl who couldn't have been more than twelve, and she was being gang-raped on the stony ground by eight or ten Rutari men. Blood was running down her thighs, and one eye was already swollen shut. Somehow-she still had the strength to scream.

Blade backed away hastily, before someone saw him and invited him to join in. He kept retreating until he was out of sight. He couldn't get away from hearing the girl's screams, until they died away to feeble moans and then into silence. Blade hoped this meant the girl was dead.

Two of the warriors tramped past, spears over their shoulders and satisfied grins on their faces. One of them saw Blade. «You too late for the little one? We would not have left you out.»

Blade shook his head. He wanted to shake the warrior like a terrier shaking a rat. «A girl that age-for my people she is not lawful.»

«Don't your people fight wars?» said the other warrior. «If you do, how can you make the victory complete if you spare women and children?»

«We have few women,» said Blade, thinking fast. «If we slew the women of other tribes, the first time we lost a war would be the end of us. The enemy would take all of our women and the tribe would die away. Haven't the Rutari ever lost a battle to the Uchendi?»

The warriors seemed to find the idea funny. They were still laughing as they went off-no doubt in search of an eight-year old boy to bugger, Blade thought sourly.

He didn't see any eight-year-old boys among the Uchendi prisoners, but he did see a girl about six being thrown to the Great Hunters. Fortunately she was dead. With wounds like hers, she had to be dead.

He also saw a good many Uchendi of all ages and both sexes being treated as their captors pleased. Most of what pleased their captors ran in directions that Blade suspected would have made the Marquis de Sade himself run screaming into the streets. The twelve year old girl was far from the worst. By the time he'd seen enough, Blade was very glad he hadn't eaten any breakfast.

The only Uchendi prisoners spared horrible deaths were six warriors who'd been captured more or less unwounded. They were being saved for a formal cleansing by the Great Hunters, and were under the Wise One's protection. That didn't keep them from being forced to watch their fellow tribesmen die horribly.

One of the warriors went berserk when he saw a Great Hunter devouring his son. He broke away from his guards, killing one and disarming another. With a stolen spear he plunged into the pit and attacked the Great Hunter. Catching it by surprise, he was able to run the spear into its chest before its claws disemboweled him. He made no sound as he flew through the air like a doll and crashed down on the lip of the pit. Blade was close enough to see that the dead face was set in a triumphant smile. He himself felt like cheering.

It was small consolation to Blade to learn that the Rutari had taken many more prisoners than usual on this raid. They'd overrun a whole farming village before the alarm could be given, then defeated a party of warriors coming to the villagers rescue. After that, the Rutari retreated without having to fight again, so they'd won their victory very cheaply. They were feeling good, and the Uchendi were paying a horrible price.

Questions now plagued Blade. Should he stay with the Rutari and help the Wise One improve the tribe's telepathy? After seeing the brutality of the Rutari, he had no particular desire to help the Wise One give her people a decisive advantage in this feud. Then should he move on, maybe to the Uchendi or maybe clear out of reach of both warring tribes in this land of Latan?

Blade was in a quandary, but at the moment he had to worry more about the possibility of being called on at last to join the warriors in raiding the Uchendi and torturing the prisoners to death. If he didn't do both it would look suspicious, and he'd have to watch his back any time a warrior was within spear throwing distance. There were easier ways to spend a trip to Dimension X.

The Wise One might also pick some piece of military knowledge out of his mind as he was fighting. She herself was no warrior, but suppose she got an image of a bow and arrow, then described it to Teindo? He would know that it was a weapon that might give the Rutari a decisive advantage.

At the worst, Blade might wind up seeing the Uchendi exterminated, all because his knowledge of weapons had been communicated telepathically. At best, he'd wind up a closely guarded prisoner, certain to be killed if he made a single move to leave the village.

No matter how Blade looked at the situation, one bleak fact looked back at him. If he stayed with the Rutari, a lot of innocent people were going to die-horribly. So it was very simple; Blade would not stay.

Unfortunately there was a fly in the ointment. Or, more accurately, a flying feather-monkey. Cheeky didn't want to leave his new love, Moyla.

(«Not good for her, I go,» he said over and over again.)

(«Not good for you, you stay behind-«)

(«Behind?»)

Blade reshaped his thoughts to reflect Cheeky's limited vocabulary. It was growing rapidly, though, now reminding Blade of a bright seven-year-olds.

(«You stay here without me. Then Moyla not like you anymore. Bad for you.»)

(«Moyla always like me. You think that cannot be. I think it can be.»)

(«You would.») Blade saw no point in arguing with Cheeky on the basis of his own experience with love. He was inclined to doubt declarations of undying passion, and also Cheeky's judgment.

(«You not trust me?») Cheeky asked, having heard what Blade was thinking.

The devil take telepathy-far far away, and bury it! If Cheeky was really getting intelligent, perhaps it would be possible to teach him some manners about listening in on Blade's thoughts. But he wouldn't be teaching Cheeky anything if he had to leave him among the Rutari.

(«You not trust me, Master?»)

(«No. You not think-strong thoughts, not any kind of thoughts. I trust you like-like a Great Hunter. It thinks only of food, you think only of Moyla. «)

(«If you not trust me, why I stay with you?») Cheeky sounded both angry and unhappy. Blade felt the same way, but had to recognize that the feather-monkey had some logic on his side. If Blade didn't trust him anymore, what could Cheeky hope to gain from the relationship?

(«You no stay with me, if you think that way. Stay with Rutari, Mistress Wise One, Moyla. Be happy, if you can.»)

(«You, too.») Cheeky hopped down from Blade's shoulder and began collecting his gear. It didn't take him long-there was only his knife, plastic harness, and sweater. Cheeky pulled on both, and without a backward glance at Blade scurried out the door of the hut. Blade stood in the doorway until Cheeky was out of sight, and for a moment longer. Then he went back inside. There was nothing for him to do there, but he didn't want to stand where everyone could see him.

He hadn't felt so disgusted with the world since the day Zoe Cornwall, his Home Dimension girlfriend, had said goodbye because he couldn't tell her about Dimension X. Of course, Zoe had meant a lot more to him than Cheeky-but Cheeky didn't have as good an excuse for leaving. It was understandable that Zoe would want a man who didn't disappear for months at a time without any explanation. All Cheeky had for an excuse was a bad case of the hots for Moyla.

Anger, grief, and disgust boiled over. Blade kicked a stool clear across the hut, so that it shattered against the far wall. Then he slammed his fist hard against the stone wall. Pain shot up his arm, and he saw that his knuckles were bleeding. He sighed, now disgusted with himself as well as with the world. After a bit, his mind started working again.

His best chance for leaving the Rutari was coming up within a few days, during the Hunters' Long Race. Fifty men competed in a sort of marathon, which took two days from start to finish. What could be simpler than to discreetly slip away during the race? With luck he could be so long gone that his trail would be too cold for even a Great Hunter to find before he was missed.

Then he would be free to head south to the Uchendi, without any suspicion falling on Cheeky. Angry as he was, Blade really didn't care for the idea of Cheeky's being thrown to the Great Hunters or cut up alive by the Wise One. Wiser beings than Cheeky had made fools of themselves and done more harm over love. Cheeky deserved the best chance Blade could give him to make a new life for himself here among the Rutari with Moyla.

But damn it, he was going to miss the little fellow! Cheeky had become a powerful barrier against the loneliness of Blade's life. He'd been that even before the kerush-magor. Now, just as Cheeky was becoming more intelligent, everything was ending.

No doubt Leighton would mostly mourn the loss of Cheeky's help in learning more about telepathy. Blade wouldn't quarrel with that. But he would regret much more the loss of Cheeky's friendship, both what had been already and what might have been in the future.