Ten Crescent Moons (Moonquest) (47 page)

Then, she
heard the galloping sounds of a sturmon. She traced the sound until it could no
longer be heard.

***

Time passed.

She braved
in silence the relentless passage of the sun across the sky. And then the day
was done, to be reprieved by the coolness of night.

She even
slept some. But the next day dawned. And with the morn came a realization that
made her laugh hoarsely through parched lips.

The captain
would be cheated. Death would come much sooner than he thought. For she sensed
something that Kalos had not anticipated.

There was no
mistaking the frigid consciousness of a snake, for it had little passion.

Its very
blood ran cold.

And only the
prospect of food stirred it to a reaction that even remotely resembled
excitement in its deliberate world.

It had
tasted human flesh before.

Adalginza
could tell by the way her scent stirred pleasant memories. By now, she could
hear its cautious approach and smell its oily essence.

It slithered
directly toward her, sounding like a heavy stick being dragged slowly through
dirt.

Adalginza
stretched her head around, and viewed the snake from the corner of her eye. Her
first impression was of its skin, brightly beaded in triangular patterns of
yellow sandstone and rusty red.

The creature
stopped and lifted its reptilian head into the shape of a hook.

Its face now
was so close to hers that she could have reached out had she not been bound and
jabbed a fingernail through one of its cold, black eyes.

A giant
forked tongue as long as her arm flicked out, tasting the air for her scent.

The snake
hesitated, as though puzzled by her lack of movement, until Adalginza could
stand it no longer.

"Go
ahead, you monster!" she screeched. "Devour me, and let this be the
end of it!"

The snake
slithered sideways a short distance as though alarmed. It raised its head
again, rocking back and forth in a natural rhythm, while it contemplated its
next action.

Adalginza became
acutely aware of her sun-blistered skin, the pain of chapped lips and hands.
Her mouth felt like sand, and her stomach was twisted from lack of food.

But nothing
of the physical pain could match the torment she felt inside.

"Kill
me!" Adalginza screamed. "Kill me!"

The snake
slithered forward again, and its chilly eyes seemed aware now that she was no
threat. But something made it still hesitate.

She entered
the predator's mind.

It didn't
like the rock where she was attached. Indigestible. After injecting its venom,
it would be unable to take her into its mouth and hold her there.

She grew
quiet with the kind of horrible fascination that accompanied seeing her own
impending death through the eyes of her killer.

The snake made
a plan. It would eat her by tearing her flesh, a chunk at a time, away from the
rock.

This meant
she would die before she entered its stomach. A small favor. A terrible death
still. But she would accept it, considering the alternative.

"Get it
over with," she gasped. "Just do what you have to do. Please. Hurry!"

The sky then
darkened. A thundercloud churned overhead. And, announced first by a crackle of
lightning, rain began to drench her parched skin.

Even in the
face of death, she turned her mouth upward and let the moisture trickle into
her parched mouth.

She laughed
in a kind of tortured way.

Another
small favor. A meaningless one. But she would accept this, also.

She saw then
that the snake had curved into a position to strike, its head held high.

Finally, the
end was near. And this, too, was a favor she would accept.

"Thank
you," she whispered to the moon gods.

She grew
still, waiting.

She saw the
blur of the snake's head as the fangs headed straight toward her. She dropped
her head back, presenting her throat, with the idea that a clean strike might
mean instant death.

But a
harrowing cry that sounded half human and half beast rang out.

A man
holding a Crescent sword inserted himself between her and the snake. With both
hands gripped around the hilt, Kalos swung the blade and cut a deep gash into
the side of the snake's head.

Furious, the
snake vibrated with a deep, ominous rumbling.

Savage lore
taught that, once the element of surprise had ended, the only remedy after a
missed snake kill was to run for your life.

"Kalos!"
Adalginza shouted, then lowered her voice to calm the snake. "Save
yourself. You cannot win. The snake will overpower you."

Kalos did
not move. He stared, eye to eye, with the much bigger creature.

Adalginza desperately
struggled with the ropes, but they were as taut as ever.

"Run!"
she screamed. "Run!"

The snake
parried with Kalos, using its head almost like a sword to tease and taunt with
pretend strikes.

It was as
though the beast were attempting to lure the man into movement, to lose the
slightest bit of balance that would enable a quick and deadly strike.

But Kalos
just stood, as still as a rock statue. Waiting.

The snake
then slithered around the back of the rock, toward Adalginza.

Still, Kalos
did not move.

The snake
paused and curved its head upwards again, rocking back and forth between the
two humans. Then it started to slowly slide toward Adalginza.

"Do not
be deceived by its actions," she said with icy calm. "The snake is
attempting to trap you. It seems to know you will move when it strikes in my
direction. It has learned this from your previous behavior. Only this time,
when it strikes at me, it will immediately turn in your direction — thinking to
intercept you. If you can anticipate this move, you might have a chance."

"Is
this one of the talents you never happened to mention?"

"Mindlink
with beasts and birds."

"That
explains a lot."

The snake made
its move to strike at her.

Anticipating
that it would turn in his direction, Kalos leaped forward with the sword
positioned at a precise angle that enabled him to jam the blade into the beast's
mouth and through the throat.

The blade
protruded from the back side of the snake's head. The monster coiled and writhed
high in the air, as it gagged on metal and its own blood.

Adalginza
sank forward against the rock, all tension drained from her body.

"He
will die now, though it will take time. Kalos! What are you doing? That is not
necessary!"

Kalos had leaped
onto the writhing snake's back, riding it like an unbroken sturmon.

He used his
muscled arms and bare hands to yank open the creature's mouth. Then he reached
down into the throat,  barely escaping a scrape on a fang holding deadly venom.

He pulled
out the Crescent sword, blade first, with the hilt following. Still astride the
snake, he reversed the sword and with both hands violently hacked the blade against
the snake's head.

Again. And
again. And again.

"Kalos!"
Adalginza screamed. "Stop it! You'll be hurt! Are you insane?"

Kalos rode
the snake for as long as it continued its death struggle. At one point, toward
the end, he threw back his head and howled out a savage war cry.

Even when
the snake no longer moved, Kalos stood and continued to hack away at the corpse
until he was soaked with the beast's blood.

It was only
until the last of the captain's fury was spent that he stopped. His chest heaved
with exertion.

The sky
opened up again, and a deluge washed away the gore that covered his body.
Adalginza squeezed her eyes shut, and threw back her head to drink.

The rain
smelled sweet. She, too, felt cleansed.

Kalos then
sloshed over to her and raised the sword above her, aiming it cleanly to sever
the bonds.

He threw the
weapon aside and caught her as she collapsed into his arms. He then lifted her
and carried her into the shelter of a grove of trees, where the Golden stood
waiting.

He lowered Adalginza
to the ground, and took out a blanket from the saddle pack. He tucked it gently
around her. Then he sat beside her, lifted her head, and cradled it in his lap.

As his hand
stroked her hair, he propped his head wearily back against the trunk of a tree.

"I lied
about the flasks," he said finally. "I said what I said only because
I wanted to hurt you more. There was only one, and I buried it so deeply last
night that not even a clawed molemouse could reach it."

"Oh.
Praise be to the moon gods," she whispered.

"I had
much time alone with my thoughts after I left you here. When I dwell upon what
could have been and what I already have done, it sickens me."

"Time
will heal us," Adalginza said gently as she looked up at him. "That,
and our future actions. I believe, Kalos, that we both have a chance to be redeemed."

"Redeemed?"
He closed his eyes, not meeting her gaze. "By all the gods, I almost
killed you. That which I love most in the world."

As always,
the night was a friend to Adalginza.

She rode the
Pinto in the cover of darkness, and looked up to count the number of crescent
moons above — four, five, six.

The rest
were hiding. But their turn to shine would come, on another night.

The trail
was dim in the shadows of foliage, but the sturmon's eyes were keen as he picked
his way through the brush.

In the
distance, a few faint orange glows of oil lamps could be seen burning through
the windows of the houses of Sola Re.

Adalginza
pulled her sturmon to a stop, and slipped off his back. Then she walked a few
steps down the brushy path before impatiently parting the stubborn branches
that blocked her passage into the cave's entrance.

Kalos stood at
the opening, holding up a lantern.

She rushed
over to him, and threw her arms around his neck. They kissed hungrily for many
long, passionate minutes.

Finally,
Kalos stepped back to look her up and down.

"Three
passings of the full moons is far too long for us to be apart," he said
softly.

"You
know I had to visit the homeland of each tribe. I had to show myself in person to
seal their loyalty, and reaffirm the promise of The Prophecy."

"Adalginza,"
Kalos said, reaching out to cup her chin. "The attack on the Village of
Shells. You know that wasn't me. It was a rogue officer."

"I
know. Nor can I keep control of all my people, when I am not with them. The
lust for revenge is great, and blood will continue to be shed. Probably for
quite some time."

"Then what
we do here tonight could help lead to a permanent solution."

Kalos held
up the lamp, illuminating a trail that wound deeper into the blackness of the
cave.

"Come
with me," he said. "The others are waiting."

As she
stepped forward into the light, Adalginza was keenly aware of the captain's scrutiny.

Benfaaro's
head band now was fit snugly around her head. She wore her snakeskin breeches
and tight-fitting tunic with ornate etchings, symbolizing her new status as
Leader Of The Blood.

Snakeskin
boots were strapped around her lower legs, almost up to her knees. The hide
bore a familiar triangular, beaded pattern of yellow sandstone and rusty red.

"Our
snake looks good on you," Kalos said.

"You
almost ruined a perfectly good skin."

"My
wife. The rebel leader."

"My
husband. The enemy captain."

"I find
our circumstances strangely arousing. Don't you?"

In answer,
Adalginza reached up to grasp the back of the captain's head and press his lips
toward hers.

But a woman's
voice from the darkness interrupted their exchange.

"Enough
of that. It looks like we are going to have to douse them both with cold water
before we can get on with the meeting."

Lady Swiala
stepped into the circle of lantern light, which caught the mischievous glow in
her indigo eyes.

"Grandmother!"
Adalginza exclaimed with delight.

She started
to rush forward, then stopped herself — not sure of what Lady Swiala now
thought of her rebellious blood kin. They had not seen each other since that
day when Adalginza had released the prisoners.