Gods of Opar (v1.0), page 29
Goats browsed in the little valley. Five men sprawled near them, drinking from a goatskin bag under a tree. These jumped up as the caravan filed out from the pines. They ran grinning and shouting toward them.
Hadon lay down to watch. Lalila was carried toward the cave while the men at its mouth entered it. They soon emerged, followed by a dozen more. Lalila was taken into the cave. Her stretcher-bearers came out quickly to join in the drinking and talking. Everybody seemed to be very happy, judging from their laughter.
Paga and the others joined him. Kebiwabes said, “They must not get a chance to have a woman often. Yet they aren’t raping her. Why not? The gang that brought her here may have done it already, but those others.. .they wouldn’t wait.”
“Lalila is easily identifiable,” Hadon said. “Minruth must have put out the word that he wants her and will give a large reward for her capture—unharmed. What I don’t understand is why they didn’t take her back to Khokarsa.”
Paga hissed with excitement and grabbed Hadon’s wrist. He pointed with his other hand. “There’s the reason!”
Hadon followed the direction of his finger. A woman had stepped out of the cave into the sunshine. She stood as if reveling in the heat and light. The tall skinny man shouted at her. Two men hurried toward her and she stepped back into the darkness.
“Awineth!” Hadon said.
10
It was not difficult to imagine what had happened. Part of the outlaw band had been returning from the next valley and had intercepted Awineth’s party as they came through the pass. Her guides had probably been killed, as they were worthless for ransom purposes. She would have announced her identity, hoping that this might cow them into releasing her. She had probably promised them a big sum if they conducted her to the temple.
Instead they had brought her back here to get their chief’s decision on her disposal. He, realizing what a treasure he had, would take her back to the city. There he and his fellows would be pardoned and would become rich citizens. Their cave now held a double prize.
“Who said crime doesn’t pay?” Hinokly snarled.
“They’ll rest tonight,” Hadon said. “Then their leader will send messengers to the capital to notify Minruth that they have the two women. They’ll negotiate for all they can get, then they’ll arrange to bring the women in. That’s why they brought Lalila here. And why they haven’t raped her. The King wouldn’t want the spoiled meat of filthy outlaws.”
“Then we have time to do something,” Paga said. “How many men are there?” “About fifty-five,” Hadon said. “But they won’t all be around at the same time. A gang that size eats a lot of food. They’ll have to send out a number of hunters. We’ll just lie low here until nightfall.”
Shortly after dusk the men, all drunk, retired into the cave. Two of them piled a great heap of brush over the opening and went through a passageway left in it. They reached out with hooks and dragged in more brush to conceal even that. The covering was thick, but not enough to hide all the light from a fire inside the cave.
“There must be another opening somewhere in there,” Hadon said. “Otherwise there’d be no ventilation.”
He left after a brief argument with Paga, who wanted to accompany him. He went slowly down the slope and skirted the grove where the goats were kept. They bleated at him. He paid them no attention, knowing that the noise the outlaws were making would drown out the beasts. He made for the side of the cave and climbed up on top of the projection. His nose led him to the smoke issuing from a vent, a natural crack in the rock.
Upwind of it, he placed his ear close to it and was gratified when he was able to distinguish some voices. These were from speakers who stood near the fire. Other voices were mumbles or slurs, though advanced drunkenness could account for the latter. He got the impression that the cave was large, extending deep into the mountain. It had to be to hold so many comfortably.
What seemed hours passed while he tried to eavesdrop. There was so much shouting and singing now that he could not even clearly hear the conversation of those who stood almost directly below the vent. Suddenly all voices but one were stilled. That, he presumed from the words, was the chief’s.
“Yes, by Kho, I will have her and only I! I haven’t had a woman for three weeks! The last was that stinking fat fisherwoman I caught in the forest and I smelled of fish for a week afterward!”
“You still do!” someone shouted. Laughter bellowed, then died.
“You have heard what the Queen said. The King isn’t concerned about her chastity. All he wants is a healthy body he can torture. He isn’t going to make her his concubine; he could care less. Ain’t that right, Your Majesty?”
“That is right,” Awineth’s voice came faintly.
“So, if Her Majesty don’t care, and His Majesty don’t either, why can’t I have her?”
“Damn it,” a man said, “if you can have her, then why can’t we all?”
“You can.. .tomorrow! Tonight she’s all mine! By the breasts of Adeneth, look at her! Have you ever seen such a beauty? What’ll she look like when you horny goats get through with her? She’ll be ruined! No, she’s mine first...all night, haw, haw!”
“What’re we supposed to do?” the same protester asked. “Play with ourselves while you’re thumping her? What the hell, Tenlem, what kind of share-one-share-all is this? You promised...”
“Shut up, Seqo!” Tenlem roared. “Shut up or I’ll slit your throat! What I say goes! You all agreed to that! So I say I’m taking this woman out and enjoying myself! I’m entitled! If it wasn’t for me, you’d all be hanging upside down in some marketplace bleeding to death from your severed genitals! How many times have I saved you dullwits? How many times have I scouted a fat prospect for you and arranged it so we could take it with only the loss of a few! How many times, I say!”
“Go ahead!” Seqo yelled. “But while you’re out there, cheating us out of our rightful enjoyment—share-one-share-all, you said, you liar—maybe we’ll be enjoying ourselves with this here woman!”
Silence again. Then a roar, a clash of metal and a scream.
Tenlem, panting a little, spoke loudly. “Any more of you want to die? If so, speak up now!”
Awineth said something, but she was too far away for Hadon to make out her words.
“No, Your Majesty, they won’t touch you! They’re not going to throw away a hundred thousand nasuhno and their pardons! They’re drunk as swine, but they won’t touch you!”
Awineth’s words, now louder, became clear.
“If they should even try, Kho would blast them!”
“Yeah! Kho would hit them with lightning, haw, haw! Your father don’t seem to be bothered about Her anger! He ain’t been struck with lightning, has he? Come on, violet-eyes! I’m going to show you what a real man is!”
Hadon felt a storm of passion, an almost overwhelming desire to attack Tenlem as he came out of the cave. But he gripped the rock and held on to it and his feelings, trembling. Mingled with his kill-lust was hatred for Awineth. She had urged the chief to assault Lalila, not to save herself, but to get revenge.
Panting, he crawled from the vent to the edge of the rock just above the entrance. He flattened out as a torch flared below him. Two men were carrying Lalila out. Tenlem was holding the torch, walking in front of them. Lalila was not struggling; she lay limp as if she had fainted. He did not think she had; she was too tough for that.
When the party was halfway down the slope, headed for the grove, Hadon slid off the rounded wall of the cave. He walked swiftly through the darkness, lit faintly by the distant torch. It would not do to stumble over something and make a noise.
Instead of following them directly, he curved to the left. The goats were moving back and forth at the ends of their long tethers, bleating. The men would attribute the uneasiness of the animals to their own presence.
He stepped behind a tree. Tenlem had driven the point of the torch into the earth. Now he was sticking the point of his dagger into the ground beside the torch. Evidently, he was making sure that Lalila would be some distance from the weapon. He removed his kilt and loincloth and stood looking down at her.
She lay on her back, naked, unmoving, silent.
The two men stood by the torch and grinned at Tenlem.
Tenlem turned his head and roared, “Get back to the cave, you two hyenas!”
“Aw, come on!” one of them said. “At least let us watch!”
“Ain’t you guys got any decency?” Tenlem said and he bellowed laughter. “Get back to the cave. And be sure to pile the brush back over the entrance. You want them soldiers to see the light?”
They turned away reluctantly. “Get going!” Tenlem said. He let himself down on Lalila. She erupted, grabbing his nose with one hand and his genitals with the other. He yelled with pain, and the others wheeled back. Tenlem struck her hard on the side of her face with his open hand. Her hands fell away while Tenlem yelled at her, “You want me to soften you up first? Or do you want to make me happy?”
Lalila did not reply. The others walked about forty feet away and hid behind a tree. They giggled and poked each other in the ribs.
Hadon ran out, circling widely, and came up behind them out of the dark. He brought the edge of his sword from the left against the neck of the man on his left, whirled and cut from the right into the other man’s neck. Their necks half severed, they fell.
Hadon stepped out from behind the tree. Tenlem, still shouting, was half crouched above Lalila. His hands gripped her shoulders, pinning her to the ground. She writhed soundlessly while he yelled at her to keep struggling since it made him even more excited. Suddenly the yell ascended into a scream. Lalila had brought her knee up hard between his legs.
Tenlem rolled away, doubled up, holding himself again. Lalila got to all fours, her face distorted with the pain from her ankle and with rage. She scuttled toward the dagger standing upright by the torch. Tenlem did not see her; he was too concerned with his own pain. She grabbed both the weapon and the torch and, holding one in each hand, scrambled back to the outlaw.
Hadon moved slowly toward them, his sword held ready.
Tenlem saw her then and somehow got to his knees, facing her. He yelled at her to drop the dagger or he would tear her to pieces. Ignoring him, she continued to crawl until she was several feet from him. She got to her knees and thrust the flaming end of the torch at him as he started to get to his feet. It drove into his mouth and, squalling with agony, holding his face now, he went backward.
Lalila got down on all fours again and went after him. Tenlem called to the two men for help. Lalila got to her knees once more and stopped his cry with the end of the torch in his mouth. He rolled over and over, screaming, toward her. When he rammed into her, he almost knocked her over. She struck him on the head with the torch, then she drove the dagger to the hilt between his ribs.
Hadon ran up to her. Tenlem was on his side, jerking, his eyes glazing.
She sat up, staring at him, her mouth working. He knelt down and took her in his arms, and both wept. Finally she said, “How did you...? Never mind. You’re here! Where are the others? Where’s Abeth?”
“Nearby,” he said. “Listen, I’m going to leave you here for a few minutes. I will bring them down here. We can’t run; we can’t go fast enough because of your ankle.”
“It’s better now,” she said. “But I still can’t walk very far.”
“I know. So we have to keep them from following us.”
“How can you do that? There are so many.”
“Never mind. I’ll be back.”
It took twenty minutes for the round trip. Abeth ran crying to her mother. Paga stroked the top of Lalila’s head, Hinokly and Kebiwabes smiled, though tightly. Hadon had told them on the way back what they must do.
Leaving the child and Lalila in the grove, the men climbed the slope to the cave. Hadon carried the torch. At the entrance, he handed it to Kebiwabes. “Don’t set the brush on fire until we have blocked this completely.”
“But what about Awineth?” the bard said. “She’ll die too.”
“I can’t figure out a way to get her out!” Hadon said, snarling. “Besides, the bitch should die!”
“She is the Queen!” the bard said. “And the highest priestess of Kho! The Goddess will not take this lightly! Also, if she dies, who will be the rallying point for Her against Minruth?”
“If it’s at all possible, I’ll get her out of there,” Hadon said. “But the others die!”
They went to work with Paga’s ax and the swords taken from the two Hadon had killed. Though their chopping was loud, the noise would not penetrate into the cave. The brush already piled outside it helped deaden the sound. The walls were thick too, and the mob within was creating a bedlam. In an hour a huge mound of brush was over the opening. Another pile lay by it in reserve. Much of the vegetation was green, but interspersed in it were dry sticks and branches.
The lack of ventilation presently sent the smoke swirling out from the fire inside the cave. Hadon heard several men approaching down the short corridor which formed the entrance to the large chambers. He snatched the torch from the bard and ignited a number of dry sticks and leaves. There was a shout from within and men started to tear at the barricade. ^
Hadon waited. If any did burst through, they would be blinded for a moment, helpless against his sword and the weapons of the others.
This did not happen. The dry wood caught quickly; the green, less quickly, but emitting choking fumes.
As the blaze increased, screams and shouts came from inside. Smoke poured out of the vent. Apparently no one had yet thought of stopping it up and so cutting off the draft. Hadon hoped that by the time they did, they would be too overcome to do anything about it.
Men lunged at the brush, trying to bull through. The flames drove them away for a moment. In a few seconds, some of the more hysterical were back, tearing at the barricade with their bare hands, screaming as they were burned, begging for mercy. The fire became a roaring blast and the men retreated. Their coughing mingled with the crackle and whoosh of the flames.
Hadon went up to the vent. He could not look down through it because of the smoke, but he placed his ear close to the edge. He could hear violent racking coughs and a sound as if stones were being thrust up the hole. He rose and drove his spear down it. It hit something solid; someone screamed. He drew the bloodied point out.
Hinokly climbed up to him. The light from the fire at the entrance showed a strained face.
“I understand your hatred of Awineth,” he said. “And I would agree with what you are doing—if she were not the Queen. But she is. For the sake of our land, for its people, you should not kill her.”
“I have been thinking of that too,” Hadon said. “It may be too late now, though. However, we’ll see what we can do. I hope we won’t regret it.”
Paga objected violently. The others told him that he was not native-born; he did not understand how deeply they felt about their Queen, high priestess and chief goddess.
“If you do save her, you’ll get no gratitude,” Paga said.
“Perhaps not,” Hadon said, beginning to knock away the burned and burning branches. It was hot work. By the time they had dragged everything out with the points of their swords and spears, they were blistered, burned and coughing. They stood back for a minute to let the smoke thin out, drinking water from their clay canteens and pouring it over their heads. No sounds came from the cave. They ran in, trying to breathe as little as possible. The torches stuck into the holes in the rock walls were out, their oxygen cut off by the smoke. The fire below the vent was still smoldering. Bodies lay on the floor of the first chamber. The light from Hadon’s torch showed him more bodies in the second room. The third was jammed with people who had fled into it because the smoke was less dense here. All were either dead or unconscious. Awineth was leaning against the back wall. She was slumped forward but kept from falling by a man lying across her legs.
Hadon felt the pulse along her neck. “She’s still alive.” He coughed, then said, ‘Til take her outside. Paga, Hinokly, see if anyone else is alive. If they are, kill them.” “Here’s one,” Paga said. He brought his ax down on the man’s skull. “Ah!”
“I found another,” the scribe said. He drove his spear into a throat.
Hadon picked up the woman and, coughing, carried her into the open. The three men came out a moment later. The manling said, “One of them sat up. So maybe she is not too near death.”
Awineth began coughing. Her eyes opened and she stared at them from a blackened face.
“You’ll be all right after a while,” Hadon said. He knelt, propped her up and poured water into her mouth. She coughed it out, but he persisted and finally she was able to swallow some. In a hoarse voice, she said, “You came after me?” “Obviously,” he said. “Lie down and rest now.”
A long time later, she said, “What happened to your woman?”
“She’s all right.”
He told her what had happened. A strange expression passed over her. Whether it was disappointment or remorse, he could not tell. He doubted that it was the latter.
Crouching down by her, speaking softly so the others would not hear, he said, “Listen carefully, Awineth. You owe your life to me and me only. If I had gone away, leaving you in the hands of those men, you would have been given to your father. If I had just let the fire keep on burning, you would be dead.
“You owe me the greatest debt possible. You can repay it by giving me your word that you will not harm any of us from this time on.”
“My lungs burn,” she said. Then, after a silence during which her face twisted with hard thoughts, “And what if I do not give my word?”
