Kiteman of Karanga (7 page)

Karl was asleep near the fire when Rika's yell echoed across the pond. Karl grabbed his spear and ran full tilt toward the flock.

"Rika, where are you?"

"Here," she cried from the boulders at the far side of the flock. "It's a wolf. I need help."

Karl found Rika holding a shadow at bay in a cleft in the rocks. Its savage growls warned him to stand clear. Crouching and holding his spear well ahead of him, he could make out a long, lean wolf holding a lamb by the throat.

"Rika," Karl called, "find a rock. Count out loud to three and then throw it behind the wolf."

Rika searched among the boulders and then started counting. Karl crouched, spear ready. When Rika said "Three," he charged in. The wolf dropped the lamb and bared it fangs to attack him. But as the rock struck behind it, the beast turned toward it with a snapping snarl. In that instant Karl drove his spear into the wolf's flank. A scream split the night as the wounded wolf catapulted from its hiding place. Karl ran back, pulling Rika with him.

"On top of the boulder, quick," he said. He lifted Rika's foot and propelled her to the top. Then as he leapt up she was there to take his hand and help him.

They watched as the wolf below sprang at the side of the boulder three times and then fell back, banging the spear shaft like a driven club against the rocks with each violent convulsion. Its death scream subsided to growls and then to gurgles, until the wolf lay quiet with only its hind legs twitching occasionally.

Karl sat down on the rock, shaking. Visions of the terry hunt swam through his mind as uncontrollable sobs overpowered him. Rika laid an arm around his shoulders.

"I did it this time," Karl said between short breaths. "I didn't panic."

"You panicked before?"

Karl nodded, but said nothing. Rika sat silently, waiting. At last he spoke. "On my first terry hunt a month ago. I knew I wasn't ready, but I didn't want to disappoint Bron, so I went. And when I panicked, Bron died. I was banished from Karanga for cowardice, Rika, I didn't get lost in any windstorm. Getting across the desert alive was just a miracle."

"A miracle of courage and determination," Rika added softly.

"I would be ready for the terry hunt now," Karl said flatly, "and it's only been a few weeks."

"You've been through a lot since then."

"I know. I only wish that—"

"Don't wish for the past to be different. That's impossible," Rika interjected almost sharply. "Wish for the future, Karl. It has done me no good to wish that my parents hadn't been killed by the Hrithdon when they were conquering Eftah. I only wish that someday we will find a way to drive them away."

Forgetting his own distress, Karl was in awe of the fierce energy that Rika displayed. And he felt easier now that Rika knew the truth behind his trek across the desert, yet still had tried to comfort him.

"Rika, are you all right?" Gardo's call came from the shadows nearby.

The wolf's cries had frightened the flock and they were crowding into the protection of the campsite.

Rika nudged Karl. "You answer him," she whispered.

"We're over here," Karl called back. "The wolf is dead." Getting up, Karl gave Rika a hand and lowered her over the edge of the boulder. Then he jumped down beside her. The wolf lay still, but Karl took no chances. Coming around carefully from behind, he wrenched his spear from the carcass and readied it for another thrust, but it was not necessary.

Rika bent down and felt the wolf's ribs. "Karl," she cried, "this wolf was starving. That's why it was so bold."

Karl squatted and felt the wolf's side, noting how little flesh was on the poor creature's frame. Its fur was dry and coarse, not the coat of a healthy animal.

"This is a bad sign," Rika said, addressing her grandfather and Rolf, who had come up. "This wolf is nothing but fur and bones. It means game is scarce and that the Northmen are starving too."

"Don't jump to conclusions," Gardo reproved. "It might also mean that the wolf was sick."

"A sick wolf wouldn't be hungry," retorted Rika. "Northmen will be all over this country. We'll lose the flock for sure."

"Granddaughter," said the old man, "I've been herding sheep in these mountains for sixty years. I would hope that I know what I'm doing. I'll watch for the rest of the night. Everybody go back to bed. We've a big day tomorrow."

At dawn Karl awoke to find Gardo rubbing ointment onto the neck of the lamb. To everyone's surprise, the lamb had suffered only a few scratches on its woolly throat. Karl and Rika walked over to look again at the wolf, and in the daylight the animal's pitiful condition was even more apparent.

Rika shook her head. "Grandfather's too stubborn for his own good. We had some losses last year, and he wants to make up for them. But there's so little to be gained by going ahead of the other flocks like this. I have a bad feeling about what could happen to us."

Karl saw the concern in Rika's eyes. "I could fly in my kitewing and scout ahead," he said. "I'll go as soon as the air is warm enough for thermals."

"Karl, that would be wonderful," Rika said with relief. "I'd feel much better."

After breakfast, they broke camp and started north again along the rolling mountain ridge line. Karl had seen no signs of hunters the day before and felt sure they were safe from any attack, yet Rika kept eyeing him nervously. At last the morning sun had heated the valley air, and in a few minutes Karl was flying ahead along the route the flock was to take.

The terrain changed as a jagged outcropping of basalt ran across the ridge at right angles. To the left a splintered spire of the hard rock jutted several hundred feet into the air. Karl continued searching for signs of the Northmen. Suddenly he saw motion in the distance and sped up his flight by diving towards it. The moving figures were a band of hunters, all well armed with spears and bows. He leveled off and circled to look at them more closely—more than thirty men, thin and worn and dressed in ragged furs. Their determined walk was almost as fast as the wolf's lope. From the lack of spring in their movements, Karl guessed that they must have been moving all night. He knew that thirty was far too large a number for any normal hunting party. They were the starving, desperate hunters Rika had feared they would meet.

The hunters spotted Karl and shouted and pointed at him with their spears. But after a few minutes, their leader, who was wearing a wolf's-head cap, shouted orders, and they resumed their fast march. Karl wheeled and dove for the mountain valley, heading away from the flock. He had to fly a good distance before he was out of sight and could double back safely.

When Karl had returned, Gardo looked at him with a disgruntled expression. "Out playing with the eagles?"

"No," Karl answered, "looking for Northmen, and I found them."

A grave look of concern crossed Gardo's face, and he stopped still. "How many?"

"I counted over thirty."

"Don't make jokes. They're never in groups of more than three or four."

"Over thirty," Karl repeated.

Gardo lowered himself to the ground and sat dumbly. At that instant Rika arrived, breathless, with Rolf at her heels. She had anticipated the news.

"How far?" she gasped.

"About five miles," Karl said, "and they're coming this way."

"Over thirty of them," Gardo repeated as if dazed. "We're lost."

"We have to run for our lives," Rolf said.

"What, and leave the flock to them?" his grandfather exclaimed. "Never!" He rose to his feet unsteadily. "We haven't a second to waste. Turn the flock around and drive them back. If we drive them fast enough, we might make it. Come on, let's go!"

"Grandfather, wait!" Rika shouted. "Let's take a few seconds and consider what we might do before we go dashing off. If we haven't time to think the situation over, we're lost anyway."

"You could fly over the Northmen and scare them," Rolf said to Karl. "That would slow them down."

"They're not afraid of me," Karl answered. But then a possibility occurred to him. "If we leave some food for them, I know they'll stop to eat it. I've been a starving hunter myself."

"Then we'll leave them one sheep," said Gardo.

"No, at least ten," said Karl, watching Gardo's stingy grimace.

"And give them nine sheep for nothing!" exclaimed Gardo.

"They'll stop and eat!" Karl said. "One sheep would just make them hurry faster to find the flock. I'll drive ten sheep toward them from here so they won't see the tracks of the full flock. When I see the Northmen coming, I'll set up my wing and circle back."

"Don't circle back to us," said Rika. "Fly back to Eftah and tell Athgar what's happened so he can send help. Meanwhile, we'll drive the flock toward home as fast as we can."

Karl wrapped up his kitewing while Gardo, Rika, and Rolf sorted out the ten sheep to leave for the Northmen. With help from Rika and Rolf, Karl started driving the sheep along the ridge toward the Northmen. Behind him he could hear Gardo shouting to get the main flock moving back the way they had come.

Karl was still a novice at driving sheep, but he had learned enough so that guiding the small flock was not difficult. As he neared the pinnacle of rock he noticed earlier, a ground squirrel whistled. But Karl was not fooled, nor was he surprised when the Northmen came into view. Turning aside, he ran to the edge of the steep slope. As he raced to set up his wing, he saw several hunters running straight toward him, their spears raised.

Karl jumped into his straps and started down the slope. A spear struck sparks on a boulder beneath his feet, and a savage cry made him turn. He saw the leader of the Northmen set an arrow to his bow. Karl veered away so sharply that his wingtip nearly hit the ground and the Northman's arrow clattered harmlessly through the terry-bone framework of his wing. The rest of the Northmen shook their spears and screamed at him like savage animals as he gained altitude and safety.

Karl was careful to depart in a direction that these barbarian hunters would not link with Eftah. Then he circled back behind a second ridge and started for the mountain village.

When Eftah came into view, the sight of the village nestled into the mountains spoke of protection and comfort. Wasting no time, Karl banked his wing into a steep spiral and descended as rapidly as he dared, making a hard landing. Leaping from his straps, he ran to the front door of Athgar's house and pounded on it loudly shouting the chief's name.

There was a roar from within, and the door flew open. "What are you doing here?" Athgar demanded.

"Rika and Rolf and Gardo are in terrible danger," Karl said.

Athgar pulled him inside, and quickly Karl related what had happened. As he spoke he saw growing worry in Athgar's expression.

"I haven't told the Hrithdon about you and your kitewing, but right now your flying speed and their war lizards are the only things that can possibly save Gardo, Rika, and Rolf. We have no choice—we have to ask for their help. It would be fastest if you flew a message to the Hrithdon outpost in the valley."

Karl nodded.

Striding to a room at the rear of his house, Athgar emerged a moment later with a note written on a piece of parchment. Outside, he found a stone and wrapped the note around it, quickly tied it with some string, and attached a length of red ribbon. Then he pointed to a yellow spot far down the mountainside.

"That's the Hrithdon guardpost. Outside the gate will be two lizard riders. Can you drop this between them and still escape yourself?"

"Yes, of course," Karl responded.

Athgar clapped Karl on the shoulder. "Come back immediately and hide your kitewing in Gardo's barn. Don't go out of his house until I tell you it's all right. Once you drop that note, we're going to have Hrithdon in the village."

Karl slipped into his straps and ran toward the steep pasture. He dove down the mountainside, straight toward the yellow building that was the Hrithdon outpost. The Hrithdon would have Athgar's message in a few minutes. If Rika, Rolf, and Gardo were lost, it would not be for lack of speed on his part.

Once back in Gardo's house, Karl sat on a bench with nothing to do but worry about his friends. The Northmen had traveled so swiftly between the time he had first spotted them and when he had left them the sheep that he doubted if the others had a big enough lead to get to safety even if the hunters delayed to feast on their fresh mutton. Athgar said the Hrithdon would send help, but what kind of help would it be? And could it possibly arrive in time?

Shouts and a rumbling sound unlike anything Karl had ever heard were coming from down the mountain. Karl ran to the window. A few moments later, three Hrithdon war lizards traveled up through the village with measured speed. The lizards were an awesome sight. The chest and flanks of each were protected by mail made of plates of metal that reflected in an unsettling contrast to the green of the lizards natural scales. And in their partly open mouths Karl caught glimpses of the savage teeth, which gleamed as if they had been capped with bronze.

The Hrithdon riders were as awe-inspiring as their mounts. Dark, grim men in war garb, they seemed hardened and impassive as no men Karl had ever seen. Each carried a crested bronze battle helmet and rested a shield over his knee. They wore shirts of the same plated mail that protected the lizards and behind their saddles bristled huge quivers of long-shafted spears. Each rider also wore a sword and dagger at his belt.

"Three against thirty," Karl said to himself, watching them disappear up the mountain. He had respect for the tough Northmen, but if any three warriors could stop thirty starved hunters, these three were the ones to do it.

"Karl, Karl."

Karl awoke with a start on the bench in Gardo's cottage. The morning sun streaming in the tiny window lit up Rika's round face.

"Are all of you all right?" Karl asked. He had not left the house because of Athgar's warning.

"Thanks to the Hrithdon, yes."

"I'm glad. What happened?"

"Just as the Northmen were about to head off the flock, the Hrithdon found us. And the Northmen stood their ground and fought when they should have run. That was their doom. Men on foot will never be a match for Hrithdon war lizards."