Melforger (The Melforger Chronicles) (36 page)

“They could be going to the mines, right?” said Raf desperately. “To make her a slave?”

Bolyai shook his head. “The dead one over there is a Miernan soldier. I think they’re taking the
ishranga
to the Pass. They have garrisons there so they’ll probably head straight for the closest outpost.”

“The Pass? We can’t go all the way back to get to the entrance - it’ll take too long!”

“Of course it will,” replied Bolyai. Deep lines creased his forehead as he stared at the wall. “There are one or two other smaller entrances along the Pass that we’ll have to try to find. We don’t really have a choice. We‘ll have to head through the desert and try to cut them off further up.”

Through the desert?
Raf swallowed. The desert was supposed to be a death-trap. Hot, lifeless and waterless. It was the reason everyone travelled down the Pass.

Bolyai nodded to himself as if coming to a decision. “Let’s head for Kastiyya. I know it’s out of the way and will make the journey longer, but we can get supplies there and then angle up to try to cut them off.”

“Kastiyya?” asked Raf.

“An oasis. One of the very few this side of the Pass. It’s half a day’s travel from here, though, so we’ll leave at first light to try and make it there before noon. We won’t be able to travel for a few hours after that.”

“Why?”

“If you think the plains were hot, boy, there’s a nasty surprise coming when the desert sun makes its presence known.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .

If Raf thought the Elder was being dramatic, he was proved wrong within a few hours of wagon-travel the next morning. They had left the deserted hilltop as soon as the first subtle wave of violet washed over the sky, and made steady progress until the sky lightened. Then, with an almost tangible force, the sun peeked over the horizon and since that moment, the temperature, initially chilly enough for them to see their breath, rose with stunning speed.

Raf smothered himself with shea butter almost as soon as the sun appeared, keen to protect his burnt skin as much as possible, but the heat seemed to scrape it away and make it itch unbearably. There was also the matter of his injured shoulder which, on inspection, revealed the bullet to have fortunately passed close to the outside of the top of his arm, leaving a scabby wound. As he was sitting sweating in the back of the jostling wagon, an idea suddenly popped into his head.

Humming gently, he closed his eyes tightly to cut out the sun and watched the colors sway faintly in front of him. Then, he tried to seek out his shoulder injury. It was impossible. As much as he tried to turn his attention around, he couldn’t focus inwards on himself - only outwards.

“Don’t bother, boy,” said Bolyai. “Can’t use it on yourself. It doesn’t work like that.”

The Elder closed his eyes and began to sing the same
haelanayre
that he had sung with Jan, and Raf suddenly felt an odd tingle that ran along his arm, and goose bumps covered him. After a while, Bolyai stopped, and although the pain was still mostly there, the wound seemed less swollen and Raf found he could move his arm a little more freely.

“Thanks.”

Lying listlessly against the side of the wagon, he stared out at the hostile landscape.
The rolling rocky hills and acacias of the plains had disappeared to be completely replaced by a flatter, sandy terrain. It extended on and on into the wavering distance, almost too bright to look at, and the only life of any kind anywhere was the occasional thorny shrub that twisted up from the parched ground. He lay back with a shirt covering his face. It made it stuffy, but the direct light of the sun was too intense.

Tiponi changed direction slightly and the wagon turned to a more northerly setting. Instantly, the shirt was blown off Raf’s face onto the floor of the wagon as a strong gust of wind flew through the wagon, no longer impeded by the sides.

“So windy,” muttered Raf in irritation, pulling the shirt around his head and lying on the loose ends, careful not to bump his arm.

Tiponi shook his head. “These winds, they are not strong,
ishranga
.”

“Stronger than what
I’m
used to,” replied Raf. “And besides, I told you not to call me that. Especially aft-”

“Now, now,” said Bolyai. “It’s too hot for that. Let’s just save our energy, shall we? We have a long way to go and it’s going to get much harder – and hotter - than this.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .

Raf was in the middle of a disturbingly real dream when he felt a tap on his leg. He removed the shirt and opened his eyes to see Tiponi looking down at him. “What’s wrong?” 

“Kastiyya,” the iMahli replied, nodding over the side of the wagon. Raf sat up and squinted in the fierce sunlight, shading his eyes. To their left, perhaps half a mile away, was a small sprouting of dunes and rocks in the vast featureless land they had been travelling through.

“Doesn’t look like much to me.”

Bolyai wiped the sweat off his forehead. “It’s the entrance at the top of the valley. We’ll have to travel down into it, but at the bottom, there’s a large settlement around the spring. We can get supplies there from the locals and head off tomorrow morning. The next part of the journey will be longer, so it’s important we get plenty of food and water. I’ve never tried this before – only the iMahli have, and even they don’t stray off the caravan routes through the desert unless they absolutely have to.”

“Great,” muttered Raf.

Tiponi clicked the ostriches back into action and they made their way towards the outcrop of rocks. When they reached it, Tiponi dismounted and led the ostriches around a thin path that meandered amidst the rocks and sandy mounds until they reached a line of large rocks that formed a
sort of natural wall. The iMahli kept the ostriches moving though, and led them towards two enormous rocky mounds that joined together. As they neared them, Raf made out a dark gap beneath the rocks where it was big enough for them to pass through; it was for this that Tiponi was heading. It was a wonderful feeling to enter the shade underneath for a brief period, and the absence of the sun beating down roused Raf’s spirits enough that he found the energy to dismount and walk alongside Tiponi.

They emerged from the little natural passage and Raf couldn’t help but ogle at the sight that met his eyes. Rocks of all sizes lay strewn on the ground which angled downwards dramatically in front of them, leading to a round valley. And in the middle of the valley was water!

A light-green pool, the surface rippling gently and sparkling in the sunlight, sat comfortably in the middle of the rocky basin. It was fringed by trees and bushes and streaks of grassy mounds which gave it the appearance of a giant emerald eye. Raf felt a smile crease his sun burnt cheeks and looked over in excitement to Bolyai who was nodding with relief as he looked down at the oasis. He caught Raf’s glance and smiled at the boy’s expression.

“Kastiyya,” he said quietly. “And not a moment too soon. This sun’s quite unbearable. And I haven’t been for a dip in quite a while.”

“A dip?”

Bolyai pointed down at the water’s edge. “Can’t you see? People are swimming down there at the side.”

“What?” Raf squinted at the water. “Oh, yeah…”

There were some people, iMahlis from the look of them, who were sitting by the water and a few of them were splashing in the water. “Can we go in the water too, Elder?”

Bolyai smiled at him and nodded.

“Only,” Raf bit his lip wistfully, “I don’t really know how to swim. I’ve never even been to Sayenham.”

“You don’t need to worry, boy, the water’s only chest-high here.”

Raf beamed and then jerked his hand at Tiponi. “Come on! Let’s get down there!” He climbed off the wagon and took off down the path before having to pause and wait for the ostriches which stumbled their way along the stony path.

Towards the bottom of the path, Raf noticed that there were more people in the shade of the palm trees along the sides, mostly iMahlis, but also a few groups of other, indistinguishable travelers, too. There were some large tents and thatched awnings that were attached around some of the bigger trees and towards the back of the valley, there was even a huge wooden building built up against a rocky cliff.

They made their way along the side of the pool and Raf walked along the edge, staring down in fascination into the clear water. “Look! Tadpoles! And what are those things over there?”

“Fish,” replied Tiponi.

“You’re kidding!” laughed Raf. He flicked a foot into the water, watching the fish dart away. “Can we go in here?”

“No,” replied Tiponi. “There only.” He pointed to where the people were in the water on the other side.

“Why?”

“Just wait, boy,” chided Bolyai. “This water here is clean; it’s come right out of the bedrock under the ground. You only swim over there where the water flows out of this pool into the river. This part is where we get drinking water from, so you keep your dirty, sweaty body out of it, thank you very much.”

“Oh.”

They walked up towards the shaded area where most of the locals were. Tiponi seemed wary and stopped the wagon short of the main area, choosing to tie it to a twisted palm tree on the periphery.

“Why don’t we go in closer, Tiponi?” asked Raf. “It’s much more shaded.”

Tiponi said nothing and continued to adjust the ostriches’ harnesses, his face tight. Raf frowned at the iMahli’s back and looked back up at where the other visitors were. It was only then that he noticed that they were being watched. All the iMahlis, standing or seated, were staring at them – some with ill-disguised hostility.

“Is there going to be a problem, Tiponi?” asked Bolyai quietly. “There are more travelers here than I’ve ever seen before. And if I’m not mistaken, those are
fetumu
over there, aren’t they?”

“No trouble.
Bhesanté
run Kastiyya.” Tiponi took some empty water bags and swung them onto his shoulder, turning and walking in the direction of a large tent.

“Come on, boy,” said Bolyai.

Raf turned from where he had been staring at the water. “Oh… sorry, Elder. The water’s beautiful. I don’t understand how it stays above the ground, though. Do you -” He looked up and saw that Bolyai was too far away to hear so he jogged to catch up.

The three of them made their way to the entrance of a large tent which was adjacent to the wooden building. If Tiponi was put off by the stares of the many iMahlis, he showed no sign of it and marched up to the door and knocked on the frame. A voice answered and he lifted the tent flap and ducked inside, followed by Raf and Bolyai.

It was quite dark inside the tent and Raf’s eyes took a few seconds to adjust. When they did, he saw a long counter ahead of them with an assortment of goods on the shelves behind. Standing in front were two iMahlis, one of whom was busy speaking to some men who had their back turned to them, the other looking at them inquiringly.

Tiponi clapped his hands in greeting and asked a lengthy question in iMahli. The other man shook his head and replied, casting a nervous glance at the group on their left.

“He says we cannot take water,” said Tiponi over his shoulder, keeping his voice low.

“Why not?” asked Raf. “There’s so much of it. A whole pool! There’s enough for everybody, surely?”

At his voice, one of the men turned around and looked at Raf. He leaned across and said something to one of the other men who also looked at him. His gaze fell on Raf’s injured shoulder and then he slowly straightened up, his hands moving to his belt.

“Perhaps we should leave,” said Bolyai, taking hold of Raf’s arm and pulling him towards the entrance. The men moved forwards quickly after them, and Bolyai shouted at Tiponi who spun and charged back through the entrance. As he did, he knocked another iMahli backwards who was coming inside. Bolyai and Raf followed rapidly on his footsteps and emerged into the bright daylight, squinting as they scrambled towards their wagon. Tiponi only took a few steps though, before stopping, staring back at the iMahli he had knocked down.

“You!”

Raf turned and gasped with shock as the iMahli got to his feet brushed himself off and stared coolly at Tiponi.  “It’s Edokko!” he hissed to Bolyai. “The iMahli from the path. He’s alive!”

Tiponi barked something at him and whipped out a hunting knife from his belt, waving it threateningly at Edokko. To Raf’s astonishment, the short
fetumu
chief laughed at Tiponi’s threat and then he yelled something loudly over them. Raf barely had time to turn around before the seated iMahlis sprang to their feet and in seconds, there was a jostling crowd of armed iMahlis surrounding them, cutting off their escape.

The tent flap was raised and the three men from inside casually walked out and surveyed the scene.

“Edokko,” the tallest one said, “is this your go-between?” Edokko smiled and dipped his head. “So, first, the boy leads us to the tunnel, and now they follow us here? How convenient. It looks like I’ve paid you in full now, chief.”

Bolyai stepped forward. “Look here, whatever problem you h-”