Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (12 page)

As
we pulled along the far side of the mill, I heard Maya yell, “Doog!”  He was
crouching on a low windowsill covering his mouth and nose with one forearm,
black smoke curling out from the top of the window over his head.  When he saw
us he held Maya’s crossbow aloft in his other hand and shook it victoriously. 
As we came closer we could see that he also had his axes strapped to his
thighs, and he tossed Maya her vest as she raced past his position.  “Doog, you
got ‘em!  Great work!”  Doog jumped onto the back of the third deer as we
passed under the window, and immediately we peeled away, choosing a path that
hugged the forest’s edge and led back toward our camp in the north.  The
shadows under the mill coalesced into three dark shapes that continued to pursue
us on foot.  Magus’ assassins were frighteningly fast and seemingly
inexhaustible, both in physical prowess and sheer numbers.  But they were no
match for a healthy puurr-deer at full gallop.  We quickly put a half a
kilometer between them and us, and were well out of throwing reach.  I looked
back one last time to see with relief that the mill-fortress had once again
become a rather small and pathetic-looking thing, a rusted and decaying symbol
of a long-lost economy.  And now the scene of a bloody massacre and the tomb of
a misguided sect.  As I turned my head back to the road that lay before us, I
thought I saw a glint of light in one of the high windows.  A realization
flashed through my mind like lightning, and with it a renewed wave of fear.  But
not for me.  In an eye blink, I threw my weight against the side of my deer’s
neck, causing it to veer to the right, placing myself between Maya and the
mill.  A second later I felt a punch like a jackhammer in my back, followed by
the most profound agony I had ever experienced.  My body hit the ground,
twitched once, then lay still.  The thunder of hooves grew distant.

The
puurr-deer could not stop quickly when traveling at full speed.  By the time
Maya and Doog realized what had happened and began to turn back for me, the
three dark warriors were almost upon me.  Maya screamed, “No!” and pressed her
mount once more into a full gallop, this time back toward me.  She raised her
crossbow and took aim, trying desperately to steady her hand against the
jarring movements of the deer. She released a bolt and dropped one of the
soldiers dead in his tracks; shakily nocked a second.  Thoot!  Another went
down.  The third was already upon me.  Raising his staff over me, he plunged
the bladed head under my ribs then levered it back, angling the tip upward.  I
felt the blade penetrate; felt an irregular throb, then a spreading warmth.  My
vision became hazy.  The last thing I saw was the bolt of a crossbow entering
his throat.

11

My
eyes came slowly to focus on Maya's pretty face, inches from my own. 
Something different...no, not Maya; it was Reya.  She pulled away. 
Stood up, rather.  I was lying on my back on the ground, head propped up
with soft cushions.  The canvas background told me that I was in my
own tent, or one very like it.  "How are you feeling?" she
asked.  My peripheral vision kicked in, and I could make out the faces of
Denkel and Jeyt behind her on my right, Maya and Doog on the left.  The
gas mask from one of Magus' assassins dangled from her right hip with its
bug-eyed lenses and breathing hose.  A black tube thingy.  I
smiled.  My back should have ached, but didn't.  Cautiously I raised
my head to examine the gaping wound in my belly, fearful of what I'd see. 
I was covered with a blanket, so the damage was not immediately evident. 
But since this small movement elicited no stabbing pain, I chanced
another.  I raised myself to one elbow, and with the other arm threw
the covering aside.  As it turned out nobody had bothered to re-clothe me
after presumably tending to my injuries.  I quickly pulled the blanket
back over my lower half.  Reya smiled and raised her eyebrows.  Maya
reddened and her eyes hastily inspected the tent flaps in the corner for signs
of leakage.  I would have been mortified, were I not distracted by the
fact that there was no wound, no pustulent gash, no sign of an amateur
stitching job.  No indication, in fact, that anything had happened at
all!  I sat up, careful to gather the blanket around me as I did. 
 
"My wound..."  I began.  I turned to my friends. 
"Maya, you saw...Doog..."
 
"Oh, we saw!"  Maya responded.  I thought for a moment she
was still referring to my recent exposure, but the tell-tale pinkening was
absent, and genuine excitement tinged her voice.  "Doog had to pull
the weapon out, it was so deeply embedded."  Her voice grew
thin.  "We didn't expect you to survive the ride back to camp."
 
"There was also this," Reya added.  She presented the sheathed
sword I had taken from Ormond.  The sword...that I had slung over my
back!  She turned it over to reveal an irregularity in the contour of the
scabbard, an indentation clearly made by a bullet of considerable
caliber.  "This may have saved you from the impact of the
projectile.  But I have no explanation for what happened with your
wound.  Is there something we should know about healing times in your
world?"    
 
"Yeah," I said.  "They take a lot longer than this, and you
don't heal from this kind of injury.  Nobody does."
 
"You did," Maya said warmly.
I returned her smile.
 
"I don't know what this means," Reya said.  Denkel cleared his
throat as if to speak, but Reya continued, initially louder, "It will
require careful consideration.  More importantly, it was extremely
dangerous," she said to me, then her eyes darted to Maya, "and
foolish, for you to go there.  The risks were enormous.  We survive,
only because we are united in our resistance.  If you have need of
something, we can formulate a plan to acquire it...together.   When
we act alone, we play Magus' game.  He would divide us, and then destroy
us, one by one.  This incident was a perfect example.  Magus knew you
were going to be there.  That means we have a little security
breach.  If any of you knows or suspects anything, you must confer with me
at once."
 
Maya began, "There was a man, out in the field, before we reached
Milltown."
 
"Not here," Reya said.  "We'll talk later, in
private.  Now, Justin," she returned her attention to me. 
"Maya told me how you helped in the battle.  I think you may have an
aptitude for combat, but you'll need some training.  Since you've already
made Maya's acquaintance, I'd like you to shadow her.  I'll give her
specific instructions as to what skills you need to master.  First lesson:
riding.  And not just riding, but everything about the puurr-deer; how to
communicate with them, what special capabilities they have. 
However..." her voice took on a weightier tone, "You are to remain
within strict boundaries, and observe the timelines I prescribe." 
Reya turned to address me.  "I'd have a word with you alone, when the
moment presents itself."
 
"My clothes...," I started, and she gestured with her head to the
corner behind me, where a fresh stack lay folded for me.  Reya exited the
tent, the meeting adjourned.  The others filed out silently behind
her, Maya lingering only for a moment.
 
"I'll wait outside," she said, then followed the rest.  I
waited until she had refastened the flap and then I inspected the garments Reya
had left.  It was an entirely new set of clothes, but I liked them: jeans
with a heavy belt, black jersey, black riding boots of a sort I might have
admired back home, but would never have dared to wear on campus.  I
hastily dressed before anyone else decided to pay me a visit, and found
that these clothes fit as well as the previous set.  I was not entirely
surprised. 
 
As promised, Maya was standing just outside the
entrance.  "Let's take a walk," she said as I
emerged. 
 
I fell into step beside her.  "So I guess you're stuck with me for a
while," I said, smiling. 
 
She looked me up and down quickly through half-closed lids, her right cheek
dimpling cutely as she half-smiled, "I suppose you'll have to do."

We
strolled through a yellow wood on one of the less traveled paths out of the
camp, heading in the general direction of the helicopter.  Maya began,
"So, did you feel it?"

Assuming
she was referring to the giant blade that had so recently skewered me, I
replied, "Yeah, I felt it good.  I didn't like it."

"Oh...yes,
of course you felt that!  But I meant after that, on the ride back to
camp."

"I
can't say that I felt anything after that.  I was pretty much out of it,"
I said.  "What did you feel?"

"I
don't know how to describe it; sort of an awareness of something good.  It was
as though someone spoke softly to me and told me everything was going to be all
right.  But I heard no voice.  It was the presence of Chaer-Ul."

"How
do you know it was the Deity?  The human mind has an amazing ability to supply
what is needed in times of great duress."

She
looked at me with pity.  "You have spoken with Chaer-Ul and yet you do not
believe..."

"It's
not that I don't believe, I just don't necessarily think every breath and every
sensation is an act of God."

Her
eyes grew wide, she stopped in place and turned to face me, touching my cheek
gently with one hand.  I recognized in the gesture not pity, but a heartfelt
desire to help me see.  "But that's exactly where he is found!"  Her
words shook me, made me pause to question my own sometimes cynical and doubt-riddled
approach to religion.  Maya’s child-like naivety was at once repellant to my
modern mind and possessed of a fragile and elusive beauty, like something long
forgotten.  
 
It was a conflict I didn’t care to resolve at the moment, so I returned the
conversation to the practical matters at hand.  "If you are to train me,
what about your work on the chopper?" I asked.  "What about
Doog?"
 
"He actually prefers to work alone when it comes to mechanical
things," she said.  "He would never ask me to leave him alone,
but he just sometimes gets…I don’t know…quieter.”  I tried to imagine what that
would sound like.  “Anyway, he has a lot more experience fixing things on that
scale.  I mostly tinker with gadgets or get old bikes up and running.”

“Bikes?”
I asked, my interest level peaking.

“Yeah,
you know, motorcycles.  I’ve worked on Kawasakis, Suzukis…a few Harleys…I even
once found a sweet Ducati!  It was kept in mint condition while the owner was
alive - covered and in a dry garage – she almost turned over when I tried the
key…”  Her voice trailed off sadly, eyes fixed on a distant cloud where I
presumed the bike was now parked.

“What
happened to it?” I asked.

Returning
to reality she looked at me and said, “I traded it because my family needed some
supplies.  I never let myself think that I could keep it.  I pretty much never
keep anything that I can’t carry on me.  It’s safer – and less painful – that
way.”

“Hence
the pockets,” I added.

“Hence
the pockets,” she echoed, noticeably cheered.  “Anyway, we’ll check in on Doog
every day, while we’re training.  When it’s done I’ll take you both for a
little spin…with your mom’s permission, of course.”

I
smiled, partly because of the irony of her comment, but also happy for the
lighter turn the conversation was taking.  "So where is your home,
anyway?  Is it far from here?"
 
"A couple hundred kilometers to the south," she said. 
 
"Then how did you end up this far north?"
 
"The base where I found the 'copter was east of there.  Magus had
just discovered it and was trying to figure out how to move it.  His armies are
all along the east coast...for the most part.  I was pursued as I tried to
escape.  They had some kind of energy weapon that can slice the sky. 
The chopper took damage, but I could still keep her in the air and was
able to pull out of range of the weapon’s beam.  Then we saw two small
aircraft taking off below us.  Not sure what they're called, basically a
single pilot in an open seat, a motor, and gliding wings made out of cloth. 
They weren't very fast, but we couldn't pull ahead quick enough to lose them
entirely.  I wasn't gonna lead them straight to my family and the rebel
base, so I steered north for as long as I dared.  When we couldn't see
them anymore, I banked toward the west.  They must have either continued
to follow our last known trajectory, or turned back and reported to their
superiors.  I suspect the latter, as I doubt those things carry much fuel,
and we had already come a long way. 

“Anyway,
by that time I was getting low too, and I knew I couldn't make it home, so I
started looking for someplace to set the 'copter down and
cover it with brush.  Just then I spotted the big smokestack of
Milltown poking over the crest of the ridge ahead.  We passed over it once,
just looking for human activity.  When I made to circle back for a second pass,
Doog pointed to a funny little cloud on the horizon.  I figured it was smoke
from a rebel camp, as we were a long way from the coast.  I thought it was a
better bet than Milltown – too many hiding places there.  We were flying on
fumes by the time you guys saw us.” 

“Maya,”
I said, “You don’t have to do this.  Train me, I mean.  I’m sure Reya has other
people who could do it.”

She
became indignant.  “Oh I see!  Other men, you mean!  Can’t possibly learn such
manly arts from a woman!”

“No,
that’s not what I meant!  I just thought…”  I saw the amusement in her eyes. 

“Boy,
one of these days maybe you’ll figure out how to read me,” she said as she
jabbed an elbow between my ribs.  “That can be your final exam!”

“Maya…,”
I said seriously, “I thought you’d want to be getting back to your family once
the chopper was air-worthy again.”

She
stopped, turned to face me again, and there was no hidden jest in her smile. 
“Justin, I love my family.  But my resistance activities put them at risk.  For
now, the farther I am away from them, the better.  It’s easier if I think of
the resistance as my new family.  I already had a brother in Doog, and now I
have another.  Reya talked to me while you were unconscious, she asked for my
help.  It was my choice.  I’m staying here.”

I
tried not to show the sudden relief I felt. 

“Besides,”
she continued, “I’m anxious to see what you’re capable of.”

We
stopped by the landing site, where Doog was busy inside an open panel on the
helicopter’s near side.  Maya whistled, and he turned, a big-toothed smile
etching its way across his grease-stained face.  She tossed him the gas mask,
and he caught it with a nod, setting it on the inside floor of the vehicle
until he was ready to install it. 

“I’m
gonna be working with Justin for a while, teaching him fighting and stuff,” she
informed him.  He shrugged and wobbled his head back and forth in a display of
indifference, but this quickly dissolved into a stern glare and a pointed
finger.  I thought for a second it was directed at me, but immediately realized
it was meant for Maya.  “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.  You just make sure
nothing happens to this bird!”  Doog rolled his eyes and brushed us away with a
flick of his wrist before returning to his work.  He was clearly relieved to
learn that he would be working solo.

Walking
on a little farther, Maya asked me, “So, shall we get started?”

“You’re
the teacher,” I replied.

She
made her deer-summoning sound and we waited.  Soon enough two healthy specimens
trotted into view.  They approached and sniffed us, then began to lower their
heads and position themselves for mounting.  But before we could climb up, a cracking
of branches could be heard, and the deer raised their heads once more, curious,
not alarmed.  A moment later Reya burst through the trees on her own deer,
describing a circle around us and the two unmounted animals.