Authors: C. R. Daems
"What do you think about our
chances of seeing Indians this close to the mountains?" Eaton asked as we
sat around the fire eating.
"I doubt it, but then I was
surprised when fifteen Indians attacked the caravan. But because the Pass
isolates this segment of the mountains and because Arucci and Monis are so
close, I would think they would prefer the mountain ranges farther away from
Monis. A hunting party may roam this far, but I doubt they would attack a
military unit—high risk and little reward. Your weapons are the only
things of value."
"That does put it in
perspective," Lutz said. "We tend to think in terms of what we
value—like horses. But horses aren't much good in the mountains. However,
given they did find something of value, when would the most likely time
be?"
"When the group was least prepared
and all in sight. For a community, that would be in the daytime when people
were working outside. For a caravan or army unit, when you're sleeping."
We reached Monis Pass three days later,
a few hours after noon. Shelly called Eaton, Lutz, and me to a meeting.
"What do you suggest we do?"
She asked, not addressing anyone in particular, but everyone looked in my
direction. I understood. None of us had ever been through the Monis Pass, and
we might encounter Sirens or Indians on the way. I decided no one was going to
say anything until I did.
"I've never been through the Monis
Pass; however, the map Baron Bradley gave us makes it look like we could make
it through in a day. That's good, because tribes would find the Pass a good
place to ambush travelers, and nighttime would be ideal to ambush a military
unit."
"I thought you said they were
unlikely to attack a military unit because of the risk and little value,"
Eaton said.
"In the open, yes. But in the
mountains at night using bows they would have a real advantage and might try a
hit and run to see the results. They would disappear before you could get
organized. And if you tried to move, they could harass you all night long. And
I would expect the Sirens to travel at night."
"Wouldn't they also have a problem
with the Indians?" Lutz asked.
"I think they could handle the
Indians with illusions or by clouding their minds. And it would be safer because
they would be less likely to accidently run into a military group coming
through the Pass."
"So you recommend we camp here and
begin in the morning?" Shelly said, looking around the group, which appeared
to agree.
"But post a watch in case the
Sirens come through tonight. I'll volunteer," I said, then thought of
Sonya. "Sorry, Sonya. I didn't ask you—" I began, but she shook
her head.
"I volunteered to guard you. It's
doesn't matter where you go or when."
I gave her a small bow. I guess I felt
the same way about Shelly—she was worth protecting. Sonya and Joanna
certainly had found where they fit in society. I had hoped this assignment
would help me find where I fit. It hadn’t, unless I counted finding places where
I didn't fit, like royalty, Cheyo Monk or Guard, or as a soldier under some noble.
I collected a blanket, trail food, and water and trotted toward the Pass with
Sonya following. A horse would have been of no value, so I left Greystone in
camp.
When I reached a narrow place in the
Pass, I sat—which would give them no option but to confront me to get by.
Sonya stepped off to the side and appeared to sleep, but I'd wager her training
would have her in action at the slightest noise.
A few hours before dawn, I heard the
sounds of horses. Several minutes later, twenty mounted troopers came into
view, led by a captain on a white stallion. When he held up his hand, the
detail stopped, and I could see the telltale blue around the captain, a
sergeant, and four corporals—apparently all of the Sirens had decided to
flee Monis. The captain looked down at me and smiled.
"Fool!" he said, pointing his
sword in my direction. "Kill her!" he shouted, and the detail spurred
their mounts as they leapt into a charge. They drew swords but it was hardly necessary,
as the horses would trample me to death. I waited unmoving as they closed the
distance. When they were within two horse lengths, I dove toward a large bolder
where Sonya sat quietly. As I rolled behind it, Sonya's chain lashed out,
wrapped around the leading horse's leg, pulled, and the horse tripped and fell.
Shouts, screams and panicked neighing
from horses erupted. Behind, horses fell or stumbled or tried to jump the
tangled mess. Sonya stepped out into the chaos—a killing storm of
destruction.
I drew my sword and dashed after her,
since there were too many even for a Cheyo Guard. She had already been wounded
at least twice. Even so, she seemed not to notice as she continued her path of carnage.
I followed, taking on those trying to attack her from the rear. The only reason
the soldiers were dangerous was their numbers. I had trained with Lutz and many
soldiers over the years and knew their basic style and techniques. Pain
scorched my side as a soldier to my right and behind me managed to leap over a
dead horse while I was engaging another soldier. Before I could respond to his
follow-up strike to my neck, Sonya had spun and cut off his sword arm. My opponent
took the distraction to lunge with a killing blow to my chest. I twisted away
barely in time as his sword tore through my shirt and skin. I buried my dagger in
his throat as his forward momentum brought him within reach.
"Well, a Cheyo Guard and no
Monk," the captain said, surveying the pile of dead soldiers and horses. A
sergeant and a corporal stood near him. "They are as deadly as those
merciless Monks. But I fear your Cheyo Guard isn't fit to chase us in her
present condition and can't help you in the blue dimension. Ironic, isn't it?
You would think they would be magnificent there as well, but they aren't. We
think it's because the Abbot does something to make them relatively immune from
an attack in the blue dimension, and it inhibits their ability to fight there.
The Monks don't care because that is their battlefield and they never thought
to need help there. So you're alone, and there are three of us. And I'm afraid
we are going to take great pleasure in killing you, since you killed several of
our friends—no, our brothers and sisters abandoned by the Monks."
The world turned blue as I quieted my
mind for the confrontation to come. The three sat apart, each in their own
world. The sergeant sat in a forest area with animals caught in a variety of
traps. The corporal sat in the middle of a stream spearing fish as they swam
by. And the captain, a man in his late twenties, sat in a large royal-looking
room with women tied to chairs.
"Yes, our comforts did not fit
with the Monks’ childish joys. We couldn't change any more than they could, but
they insisted we had to. We pretended for a while, but the Monks aren't stupid
and eventually threw us out. I see you are the savage rumors say you are."
He seemed to enjoy toying with me, or maybe wanting someone to understand them,
although that wouldn't matter if they killed me. I said nothing, taking the
brief reprieve to anchor myself for what was to come.
The sergeant attacked first, with the image
of a giant man with a sword, and a net came rushing toward me. I stood sword in
hand, waiting. As he threw the net, I shrank into a tiny man, jumped through
the now large gaps in the net, grew back to normal size, and attacked. My
attack was so vicious that he was so caught up in defending himself that he
failed to change into something else.
I had scored several hits and was
getting ready for the kill when the corporal came thundering toward me as an image
of himself on a giant warhorse holding a lance. I moved to the left, forcing
the sergeant's image to the right and in the way of the charging warhorse. The
corporal managed to divert the warhorse just in time to avoid running down his
fellow Siren.
But before I could continue the attack,
the captain transformed into a wildcat and sprang at me. I changed into a wolf.
We crashed together in midair. I latched my jaws on the cat’s neck as its claws
tore at my flanks. My jaws tightened. He changed into a boa and twisted around
my body. The boa slowly tightened, ignoring my jaw clamped onto its body. My
ribs and chest felt on fire as he continued to tighten his grip.
Meanwhile, I could see the corporal and
sergeant, swords drawn, looking for an open spot to attack. I changed into a
small, thin poisonous snake and slid out of the boa's grip, curled around the
corporal's leg, and struck him in the calf. In desperation, he swung his sword
at me, cutting off my tail and creating a deep gash in his leg. I fell off and
became human with sword and dagger. They also changed back to men with
swords—two each. It was a stupid idea, since I doubted any of them were good
with even one sword. Two would be a hindrance. The captain appeared the best of
the three. I could defeat any of them individually, but together they had a
significant advantage. I had to spend all my time defending myself as they
constantly changed weapons: long sword, poleaxe, axe, and ball-and-chain.
I was losing, so I sank to the ground
and became a tree, my roots sinking deep. They laughed as they hacked at the
bark, working to get to the heart of my tree. My roots touched lava, and I created
a tunnel for it to escape. They jumped back screaming as it poured out.
"Troops are coming through the
pass," the sergeant shouted.
"Come with me," the captain
said as he and the others left the blue dimension. "They won't follow us,
and if they do, the Iappo savages will make short work of them."
I watched as the three limped off the
trail and into the trees and rocky terrain that led higher into the mountains.
We each had wounds, some more serious than others—a mental fight but the damage
was real. A cut to the arm or chest or leg couldn’t be seen but it could be
felt, just as real internal bleeding could still occur. I doubted the corporal
would last the day; however, the sergeant and captain had only minor wounds
that would heal in time. They would be sore but functional. I needed rest and
my side stitched, but I too would heal. But I was definitely in no condition to
chase them. I managed to crawl over to Sonya. She had done a reasonable job of
stopping most of the really bad bleeding. I helped tie off the ones she
couldn't get to or had missed or ignored.
"Where are you hurt?" Shelly
said as she slid beside me and ran her hands over me, looking for damage. She
screamed when her hand touched my side and came away bloody.
"Have someone take care of Sonya.
She needs immediate attention. I can wait," I said, looking into Shelly's
misty eyes. She nodded and began shouting for a medic—two of the current
troopers had training in treating field wounds that weren't too serious.
Eaton appeared a minute later.
"Are they dead?" he asked, surveying the carnage.
"Two of the five," I said,
watching as the two troopers worked on Sonya.
"Which way? We'll get them,"
he half shouted, looking around. I pointed at the place where they entered but looked
to Shelly and shook my head.
"Don't let them. It's certain
death."
"You don't want us to catch them?
Why?" His voice was loud enough to be heard by anyone in the area, which
was everyone. Lutz wandered up just then.
"Probably to keep you and your men
alive, Lieutenant. Besides, you'd have to leave Lady Shelly unprotected to
chase after Sirens who you don't know how to fight in a mountain full of
Indians."
"Lieutenant Eaton, have your men
set up camp again where we were. Sonya and Zara need treatment and rest."
"What about the Sirens and Baron
Bradley?" His voice was an angry snarl.
"Now, Lieutenant." She looked
up at Eaton like a mountain cat ready to spring on a mouse.
"Yes, Lady Shelly," he said,
and turned, giving orders as he went.
"Lutz, do you think you and
whoever you want could make it through the Pass?"
"Yes, Lady Shelly, with two horses
each."
"Take what you need. You have my permission
if anyone asks. Tell Baron Bradley we encountered five Sirens and a troop of
mounted soldiers. We killed the soldiers and two of the Sirens; three fled into
the mountains. We have wounded and are staying until they recover."
"Yes, Lady Shelly," Lutz said
before rushing off.
"For someone who didn't volunteer,
you take a lot of risks." Shelly looked down on me with a worried frown.
"What choice do I have? If I don't
cooperate, they will lock me in a dungeon or maybe kill me. I would make as bad
a prisoner as I did a slave. If I run off, they will accuse you of some fake
crime. You'll be lucky to just lose your title. The only other choice is to try
and help them catch the Sirens and then leave before Duke Phipps decides he
owns you and me."
"Thank you. I know you are doing
this for me, but don't die for me—if you can't win, leave. I'll
survive." Tears dripped down her cheeks, and she squeezed my hand. She wouldn't
survive in a real sense. Like the warrior who wouldn't be a slave, Shelly was a
duchess who wouldn't be a commoner. She would wither like a tree without water.
I sought a quiet mind where I didn't have to think and could lessen the pain of
my injuries.
* * *
On the evening of the fifth day, Bradley
came through the Pass with thirty mounted soldiers. I wasn't completely healed,
but rest and herbs had me feeling almost normal, and to my relief, Sonya was
looking better. The medic soldiers had given her up for soon-to-be dead.
"You were fantastic, Sonya,"
I said after checking on her many cuts I had packed with herbs gathered from
around the area, a combination of herbal medicine I had learned from the Ojaza and
Dana at the Manola community. The two soldier-medics had followed me around as
I collected herbs, asking hundreds of questions I did my best to answer.
"You were very good yourself. I'm
no good in the blue dimension, but I could see what you and they were doing. Considering
the odds, I think we put on a respectable performance," Sonya said in a
still weak voice, although she had improved significantly over the past few
days.