Into The Ruins (19 page)

“He looks just like you described from your dreams,” Lorl said, a touch of surprise coloring his words.  Lorl hadn’t been one of those who had openly expressed doubt that Rigo had seen anything when he’d nearly died out here.  Now actually seeing one of those Rigo had claimed saved him was providing Lorl a bit of a shock.

For his own part, Rigo felt a sense of satisfaction at being vindicated.  There were times his own doubts had exceeded those of the people around him.  He reached out and grabbed Lorl’s shoulder and pulled him back into cover.

“Get down,” he said softly. 

“Why?” Ash’urn asked as he backed into the brush with Rigo. “From what you have told us over the years they are friendly.  They saved you last time, after all.  What are we hiding for?  This has to be the best opportunity we could have hoped for.”

“I want to see what he does left to his own.  If he sees us, that might change his plans.  I’m curious what he might be doing out here.”

“He’ll probably pass us by,” Lorl said, “and then where will we be?”

There was little chance of that.  The lone rider was headed directly for their oasis, riding as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I can’t believe he is actually riding on a Hoplani,” Orna said softly.  “And look at the others.  They are following along behind him as quiet as can be.  I’ve never seen Hoplani act like that.”

Watching the small individual brought back hazy memories for Rigo once again.  He vaguely felt himself riding on the back of one of the dangerous beasts.  Now as he watched, the lone rider brought the small caravan to a halt just at the edge of the trees, not too far from the place where they had discovered the fire pit. The individual, Rigo was assuming he was male, was wearing a single garment of some unknown material.  It was a light tan and covered him from shoulder to knee.  He was barefoot, which given the temperature of the sands out here was surprising.  He also had been traveling without the benefit of headgear, another curious oversight.  His garment was held in place by a wide belt of a gold colored material, with a sheath containing some kind of large knife.  It was too small to be a sword, but clearly it was a weapon of sorts.

The man was short just as Rigo recalled, standing a couple hands shorter than himself.  His skin was indeed the color of the desert sands and his hair a shocking white with the large white eyebrows that had stood out in Rigo’s memories.  He was close enough that Rigo could see the oddly colored eyes, with just a hint of red where everyone else he’d ever known had a black pupil.  Now that he could observe him carefully, Rigo realized he had only four digits on each hand, three fingers and an opposing thumb.  For the first time Rigo realized this individual could hardly be considered a fellow human.  He had to be something else.  Rigo decided to call him the
Dunerider
until he learned a better name.

As they watched from their hiding place, the
Dunerider
slipped from the back of the Hoplani and walked over and rubbed the nose of the creature, just as Rigo had done many times to his horse.  Then the man walked over to the trailing creatures, repeating the action to each of them.  He unlatched the travel packs that had been strapped to the backs of the beasts, allowing the packs to fall to the ground.  When the Hoplani were all free of their burdens, he somehow directed three of the creatures, the one he had been riding and two others, to wander off so they somewhat aimlessly circled some distance out in the sands.  The last stayed rooted to the spot while the small man gathered up the packs and carried them right to the edge of the grass boundary of the oasis. 

After what must have been a ride of some duration out in the hot sands of the desert Rigo would have expected him to take a break, but he appeared intent on pursuing whatever task he had come here for.  As they watched he slung one heavy looking bag over a shoulder and walked into the oasis, heading directly for the fire pit.  Once there, he brushed aside a few dead leaves that had fallen into the pit, and extracted a number of purple crystals they readily recognized from the bag and carefully arranged them in a precise manner in the pit.  These crystals all glowed with an inner energy, more so than any Rigo had seen before.  Once the crystals he had brought were all arranged to his satisfaction, the diminutive man reached forward and ran his hands over the surface of the arrangement.  Immediately a purplish glow shot from the tops of the assembled crystals, striking the rock above and causing it to start to glow a dull red.  For the first time Rigo noted the sparkle of small reddish crystals that appeared to be inset in the man’s hands, running along the fingers as well as filling the palms.

“The crystals are an energy storage vessel of some sort,” Ash’urn whispered.

So it appeared, Rigo agreed.  Already he could see the water in the pool above starting to steam as the temperature grew.

The diminutive little man walked back to the single waiting Hoplani, drawing the sword from his belt as he did so.  The blade was unlike any that Rigo had seen before.  It was not of metal, at least any he had seen before.  It was white, with a light bluish tint.  In the bright sun of the Ruins it appeared to glow.  The
Dunerider
walked over to the Hoplani, and without any warning, calmly plunged the blade into the neck of the beast.  The blade penetrated the hide without resistance and without any real effort on the part of the small man. 

What was that blade made of?
  Rigo had never known anything that could penetrate the armored hide of the Hoplani, yet this blade did so effortlessly.  The secret of that blade was information worth having.

As the four humans watched, the
Dunerider
made a practiced cut.  It was apparent moments later what he was doing, as the crystal buried in the neck of the Hoplani dropped free.  As the crystal fell away, the Hoplani gave a sigh and crumpled to the ground.  There was no blood.  Just the crystal, which looked much as those the man had arranged in the pit, if a bit duller than the others.

Leaving the beast where it had fallen, the
Dunerider
returned to his bags and withdrew a skin of liquid, which he poured over the carcass of the Hoplani.  As they watched, the flesh of the dead Hoplani melted away, leaving behind the bluish bones of the beast.  Within seconds, only the bones remained.  The Dunerider reached down and grabbed some of the bones, now loosely scattered on the sands, and carried them back to the pool of water, which was now boiling softly.  He threw them in, and headed back to the dead Hoplani for another load.

“What is he doing?” Orna asked softly.

“I don’t think he’s making dinner,” Ash’urn said next to her.  “He wants the bones for something, and for some reason needs to heat them.”

“Perhaps it is time to introduce ourselves,” Rigo said. 

“Do you think that is wise?” Lorl asked.  He had been very surprised about the ease at which the Dunerider had dispatched the Hoplani.

“I’ll go first,” Rigo said.  “Based on his reaction, you decide what to do.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ash’urn said.  “I’ll have a better chance at understanding anything he might say.”

Together, Rigo and Ash’urn stepped out of hiding and walked over toward the fire pit, intercepting the
Dunerider
who was returning with another load of bones.  Some of those he carried this trip were considerably larger than those he’d carried to the pool the first time, and Rigo didn’t see how they would fit in the pool.  The
Dunerider
noticed their presence and hesitated briefly, then continued carrying his load toward the pool.  He dropped the bones next to the fire and turned back toward them.

This close, it was obvious the
Dunerider
was not human.  There were too many oddities in his features and body.  As Rigo and Ash’urn studied the odd little man, he returned their examination.  He looked at them carefully, and then as if satisfied, he turned with the clear intent of going after another load.  He was obviously completely unconcerned about their presence, and didn’t seem to be particularly shocked by their appearance.  That suggested he knew about humans somehow.

“Who are you?” Ash’urn spoke, suspecting the language would not be understood, but hoping to elicit a response that might yield a clue to what manner of speech the
Duneriders
used.

The man turned and looked at him for a moment, then uttered a series of squeals and squeaks that were harsh on the ears.  “
Screaaaaoi oomae okkkkeeeach,
” he said, or something to that effect, then waited to see what Ash’urn would do.

“Did you get that?” Rigo said with a small grin.

“Communication is going to be a challenge,” Ash’urn said, undaunted. 

Not receiving a response, the
Dunerider
had wandered off and was now picking up more of the bones.  Rigo signaled Ash’urn to stay put, and walked over and starting gathering up as many of the bones as he could carry.  They were surprisingly heavy, and hard and inflexible as the crystals he had recovered from Hoplani before.  With his hands full, he carried the bones over and added them to the pile the
Dunerider
was building next to the water.  Two more trips and they had gathered them all.  Rigo picked up the crystal and carried it over and handed it to the Dunerider, who accepted it from his hand, and placed it on the ground near the fire pit.

As Rigo watched to see what he would do next, the
Dunerider
walked over to the boiling water, reached in without concern with his bare hands, and extracted one of the bones that had been in the water for some time.  The boiling water seemed not to bother him at all, and he examined the bone he had withdrawn critically.  It had changed color somewhat, and now flexed easily.  Even so, it apparently wasn’t ready yet, and the Dunerider tossed it back into the pool and stood silently waiting.

Ash’urn had been watching carefully, and spoke softly in Rigo’s ear.  “I think his knife is made from the bones,” he said.

Rigo was surprised by Ash’urn’s observation, but now that the idea had been raised, the boiled bones did appear similar in color to the blade of the knife.  Perhaps that was why they were able to penetrate the Hoplani skin so effortlessly.

Deciding it was time to introduce the rest of their small group, Rigo signaled Orna and Lorl to come out of hiding.  The
Dunerider
noted their arrival with the same lack of surprise or concern he had shown at seeing Rigo earlier.  He continued to wait stoically by the pool waiting for something to meet his expectations.  A quarter of a glass later he extracted the bones from the water, laying them out on the grass to one side, while he filled the water with another load. He made no objection to Ash’urn’s picking up one of the bones after it cooled.

Ash’urn brought the piece over to the others.  “It’s soft and flexible,” he said, handing it to Rigo.

“You can’t make a knife out of this,” Rigo objected.

“This might be the first step,” Ash’urn suggested.  “The bones themselves are hard and nearly impossible to work.  This can be shaped and cut easily.  Perhaps after that step is completed, they do something to make it hard again.”

Ash’urn might be right, Rigo decided.  It would be worth learning the entire process.  They would have to wait and try and figure out how to communicate with the
Dunerider
.  It was obvious his attention was fully on the task at hand at the moment, but perhaps when he was finished.  Rigo also was trying to think of how they might be able to get across to the
Dunerider
the idea they would like to travel with him when he left.  Rigo had a feeling the answers he sought were to be found wherever this man had come from.

“We need to inform the Outpost of what has happened,” he said.  Ash’urn was sitting in the shade with one of his journals.  He had written a series of brief notes and was now sketching the man and the pool with the bones.

“You go on ahead,” Ash’urn said.  “I don’t want to risk missing anything.  I’ll stay here.”

Somewhat uncomfortable leaving Ash’urn alone, Rigo and the other two wizards walked a short distance into the oasis and opened a
Bypass
back to the Outpost.  The
Dunerider
noted the glowing arch, but it caused no more reaction than their unexpected appearance had earlier.  With a brief wave to Ash’urn, they stepped in and disappeared.

Three glass passed before Rigo and Orna returned.  They walked over to where Ash’urn still sat with his journals.

“He cuts up the larger bones in small segments after they are softened,” Ash’urn said.  “He’s been packing them away in those bags.  I’m guessing he intends to load them on the remaining Hoplani when he is done, and carry them back wherever he came from.”

“Why would he come all the way out here just to boil the bones?” Orna asked.  “Can’t he do that wherever he lives?”

Ash’urn shrugged.  “There’s obviously a lot we don’t understand.  Why is he alone?  How far did he come?  How many of them are there?  Not being able to talk makes it difficult.  One thing I’ll tell you though, he’s a tough little guy.  I’ve never seen him sit, and from the time we saw him riding up until now I’ve not seen him eat or drink anything.  He doesn’t seem to get tired or thirsty.”  Then he looked at Rigo.  “What did you tell them back home?”