Victims of Nimbo (15 page)

Chan knew exactly what the high priest planned to do. “I would make a good chief, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes, as long as you listen to someone with sense.”

“Like you, Nomus?”

“Like me. You do the muscle work, and I’ll do the thinking.”

C
hief Maroni had come for a last visit with Sarah. In the midst of their talking, he abruptly muttered, “I haven’t slept a wink since Lomeen left. Why would she leave me?”

Sarah was very much aware that the hour of her sentence was close. Nevertheless, she felt compassion for Maroni. She saw that he was still in poor physical condition. She had felt at first that he was just weak to allow himself to be ruled by Nomus and bullied by Chan, but now she sensed that basically he was a decent man. She said quietly, “I’m glad to see you have such love for your daughter, Chief.”

“I didn’t know how much I cared for her. If I could only get her back, things would be different.”

“Different how, Chief?”

“For one thing I’ve been thinking of what you said about treating females better. I have not been cruel, but neither have I been kind or fair. If I just had time, I could show Lomeen how much I think of her. And not just her but the other women of the tribe as well.”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that, Chief!” Sarah exclaimed. “It would make all the difference in the world. Not just to the women but to the men too.”

“How do you see that?”

“I think that the women would be very grateful, but also they could be much more help to you than they have been. They are capable of doing more than simply washing clothes and cooking.”

“Yes, I found that out with Lona, my wife.” Then Maroni said, “And in the morning I’m going to have a talk with Nomus.”

“About what he’s going to do with me?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“You may as well save your breath, Chief. He’s determined to offer me as a sacrifice.”

Maroni straightened up. He was a strong-willed man, though not young any longer. “We will see who is chief of the Earth Dwellers.”

Maroni left, and the night wore on. Sarah was fairly certain that dawn would be the hour of the sacrifice. She remembered Lomeen’s speaking of that hour to her. For a long time she paced back and forth. At last she sat down on the pad that she used for a mattress. Her back was against the wall, and to her amazement she began to doze off.

     Sarah awoke with a start to find that she had been dreaming of her days as a Sleeper. She and her friends had experienced so many adventures, she thought. And suddenly she realized something.
If I had not been saved from that great nuclear war in OldWorld, I would have missed a lot. NuWorld has been hard and dangerous, but we’ve been able to serve Goél. And I’ve made such good friends here!

For a long time she lay there half-asleep, thinking of all the people that she had met. Some of them had been strange indeed. Many had become fine friends-better than she could have imagined.

Then she nodded off and began dreaming again. This time she seemed to be in an even darker place than her small prison. Panic, like a raving beast, was trying to take over her heart. Sarah had known fear
before but nothing like this. This was a nightmare such as she had never had, and she knew that she was screaming.

“Sarah, do not be afraid.”

Sarah, in her dream, suddenly recognized the voice of Goél!

“Goél, is that you?”

“It is I. This is a difficult time for you,” the voice went on quietly, “but I will be with you. Even though the knife is raised to plunge into your heart, do not fear.”

Sarah felt the terror ebbing away. Soon it had disappeared entirely, and she whispered, “Goél?”

Then she knew she was awake.

“It was only a dream,” she said with disappointment. But though it had been a dream, she felt new confidence. She got up and waited for the dawn with renewed hope. “I don’t know what will happen, but Goél has never failed me,” she said aloud. “He won’t this time.”

Her voice sounded thin and feeble, but somehow she knew that she had been visited by her friend Goél himself.

A
ll in the Earth Dwellers’ village had gathered for the sacrifice. They came reluctantly, because most of them looked forward to it with nothing but dread. Nomus, however, had commanded Chan to see that every member of the tribe was there, and now they were met in the open space just outside the village. Thick trees formed a circle around the area, forming a natural amphitheater.

The high priest looked with satisfaction at Chan and said, “We’ll put on a fine show today. It will bring the chief into line.”

Chan grinned. “Shall I bring out the female now?”

“Yes. It is time.”

     The day had dawned red, and as Sarah stepped out of the hut at the command of Chan, she blinked at the brightness of the sky.

“A fine day to die, wouldn’t you say?” The warrior grinned and grabbed her arm.

“Let go of my arm,” Sarah ordered.

Chan blinked. He actually stepped back, releasing her. He no doubt was not accustomed to his victims’ showing this kind of spirit. “We’ll see how long you keep that up,” he said. “When you see the knife, you’ll scream like a wounded animal.”

Sarah did not answer him. Now she was flanked on each side by guards, and one followed behind. Chan
led the way. As they made their way through the village, she determined to show no sign of fear.

When she stepped out into the clearing, Sarah saw the evil form of Nomus at once. He was wearing a scarlet robe and had in his hand a wicked looking knife with a curved blade. Before him a stone rose out of the ground, huge and dark. There were stains on it, she saw, and she knew at once that they were bloodstains from earlier victims.

She passed along the ranks of villagers and saw pity in the eyes of most. Perhaps many had lost members of their own families to the cruel tactics of Nomus and his god. Although she was headed for her death, Sarah could not help but think,
There are enough men here to have a revolt if they just had a leader.

Then she was brought to a halt before the great stone.

Nomus said, “You are a troublemaker, and this is the end of your trouble, Sleeper!” He held up the wicked knife to the crowd. “Nimbo must have a victim, and the chief nearly died because of this female,” he shouted.

“That is not so!”

The villagers looked about for the speaker, and Sarah saw that it was none other than Chief Maroni himself. He wore the deep purple royal robe reserved for ceremonies. On his head he wore a headdress made from the feathers of exotic birds. Strapped on his side was a sword with a golden hilt, and now he laid his hand on it as he took his stand beside Sarah.

“There will be no sacrifice, Nomus.”

A pleased murmur went up from the crowd.

Instantly Nomus cried, “The chief is beside himself!
He is still not well! Take him away! Be gentle. I must treat him.”

Maroni drew the sword with the golden hilt.

Before the chief could use it, though, Chan suddenly put his massive arms around him. Another guard removed the sword, and Maroni struggled helplessly. The sickness had apparently taken all of his strength, and he was easily carried away in the mighty arms of Chan.

Sarah had known a moment of hope, but now it was gone. As she saw Maroni being carried off, she cried loudly, “Earth Dwellers, do not let that beast misuse your king! Rise up!”

“Weapons out!” Nomus commanded the guards. “Slay any man who tries to stop the sacrifice!”

Sarah knew then that it was too late to organize a revolt.
I should have done it before
, she thought.
Why didn’t I think of it?

The evil voice of Nomus screeched, “Tie her to the stone!” and guards seized her arms.

Sarah was thrown upon the altar, where she lay facing the sky. It was blue and beautiful with white clouds drifting along.
The last sky I’ll ever see
, she thought. They bound her with ropes then, and she could not move.

“Now you will see the power of Nimbo!” the priest cried. He stood over the helpless girl and grinned evilly into her face. “Are you ready to die?”

“I will always be ready to die to stand against evil such as you,” Sarah said in a loud voice. “Earth Dwellers, you see what kind of man this is! When I die, do not let him control your lives!”

“Be quiet!” Nomus screamed. “I will hear no more.” He raised the knife and shouted, “Now, Nimbo, here is your sacrifice!”

Sarah did not close her eyes. The bright edge of the knife caught the reflection of the sun, and she saw it poised over her heart. She knew that Nomus would have no pity, and she whispered, “Goél, I did my best! And you said not to fear.”

The knife, however, did not descend. At that moment a feathered shaft pierced Nomus’s wrist, and the sacrificial knife fell.

Then Sarah heard the voice that she knew to be Josh’s shouting, “Sleepers, Cloud People—attack!”

“Josh, you’re here!” she cried.

     The Sleepers and the Cloud People fell upon Chan’s guards with all the force they had. The arrows flew thick, but—according to Josh’s instruction—only the guards were hit. The warriors tried to organize, but they could not match the onslaught of arrows.

“Follow me!” Chan roared. “These Cloud People can’t fight!”

He rushed forward to lead the charge, but suddenly a figure appeared before him.

Turning her head, Sarah saw that it was Jere. He carried a sword in his hand.

“Surrender, Chan,” Jere cried. “Surrender, and you will not be harmed.”

Chan seemed unable to believe that this mere youth had challenged him. Raising his sword high, the warrior ran straight at him. “I’ll kill you, and then I’ll kill all of your people!” he bellowed. He swung his huge broadsword back and forth.

Jere ducked under the blade. It came so close to his head that he surely heard its hiss and felt it tugging at his hair. Then, without hesitation, he lunged toward
Chan. His sword was not long nor was it heavy, but it was keen.

Sarah saw Chan fall forward.

“Chan is dead! Surrender!” Prince Jere shouted.

Surrender came quickly when the guards saw that their leader was gone and that there was no hope.

And then Sarah looked up and saw Josh’s face.

“Are you all right, Sarah?”

“Yes, Josh. I’m all right,” she whispered.

“Let me cut those ropes.”

Swiftly he cut her free and helped her sit up just in time to see that there was yet another crisis. King Celevorn was facing Chief Maroni.

“Look,” Josh said. “I think those two have something to talk about.”

Indeed they did. Celevorn bowed slightly. His sword was in his hand although he seemed not to have used it. “It has been a long time, Maroni.”

“Yes, Celevorn,” the chief said. “It has.”

“The last years have been unhappy ones. You have been the enemy of my people.”

“But no more,” Lomeen said. She hurried to support her father, whose face was pale with weakness. “And it was not my father who was the enemy, but Nomus.” She looked at the high priest.

Nomus was holding his bleeding arm, and his face was ashen.

“There is the source of all our troubles.”

“You are right, my daughter. But I have been wrong, also,” Maroni said quietly. “I ask your pardon, Celevorn, and the pardon of all of your people for the trouble that has been between us. As chief, I must stand responsible. But I say this—you will have no more problem with the Earth Dwellers.”

Suddenly Prince Jere was standing beside Lomeen.

The eyes of the two fathers then met, and a message seemed to pass between them.

A smile came to the face of the king as he replaced his sword. “We have much to talk about,” he said.

“I must tell you, King Celevorn,” Chief Maroni said, “that through all of this I have changed my opinion of females somewhat. I see them now in a higher light than I did before. As a matter of fact, may they not be the equal of men?”

But Celevorn was looking at his son. And Jere, who had put one arm around Lomeen, was watching him. “Well,” the king said, stroking his chin, “that is indeed something else to talk about. But I think I know what you mean by that. I have been much impressed with your daughter. If all females are as wise and courageous as she, then we have been missing something.”

“Isn’t that sweet?” Abbey said. She had been fussing over Sarah. “I know what will happen now.”

“What?” Sarah asked.

“They’ll get married and live happily ever after.”

“I doubt that,” Josh grunted. “They’ll get married and have arguments and have to learn to live together.”

“Josh Adams, I keep telling you, you don’t have a romantic bone in your body,” Sarah snapped.

“Who, me? I’m very romantic.”

“Why don’t you ever write a poem—like Jere does?”

Josh suddenly grinned. “I know. I’ll hire Jere to write me some poems. What would you like for them to say?”

“Oh, you’re impossible!”

However, she saw later that Josh actually did go over to congratulate Jere. She also heard him say, rather uncomfortably, “Jere, is it hard to write a poem?”