Raging Star (27 page)

With a clatter of curses, Ash pelts off. An I’m right behind her.

It’s a dustup at dawn. A two-dog fight in the junkyard. We hear the rumpus well before we reach them. Everybody yellin, Tracker barkin, Moses bellowin. They’re brawlin on a junkpile. Strugglin an tusslin. Throwin punches that mainly miss. Creed’s split Lugh’s lip. Lugh’s blooded Creed’s nose.

Make ’em stop! cries Emmi. Lugh! Look out!

Creed’s grabbed him by the waist an hauls him down. Metal an iron. Slabs an sheets. Beams an girders. Edges to cut. Blocks to break bones. Stupidity times a million.

Gawdamnn eejits! Ash yells. Git offa that pile!

Slim’s in there shoutin at ’em an Tommo’s tryin to grab a arm or leg to separate ’em, but it’s too wild fer their safety an they beat a retreat.

What the hell’s goin on? What set ’em off? I says.

Who knows? Slim mops his head with a kercheef. I’m in the stables, next thing I know, it’s a brouhaha. Damn, I’m too old fer this.

I was asleep, says Tommo.

Creed’s the more wily fighter, the victor of many a scrap. I know fer a fact this is Lugh’s first punch-up. But he’s taller an heavier an he ain’t a bad wrestler. He’s also wearin boots. Barefoot, on a heap of metal, Creed’s on a hidin to nuthin. He must know it, but he’s fightin like he means to win. They’re breathin hard. Hot-eyed with fury.

Molly’s yellin, Creed! I ain’t gonna stitch you agin! Stop it! Lugh! Dammit, you two, stop this right now! Her colour’s hectic. Her mushroom pail stands beside her. Another early mornin walk in the woods, it seems.

Any time now, there’s gonna be blood, says Slim. One of ’em’ll crack their head wide open. You better wade in there an break it up, Angel.

I’m already pilin in fast, shoutin, All right, that’s it! That’s enough.

Tommo an Ash help an between the three of us, we somehow haul ’em off the junkpile. Worked up past thought, Creed rushes me. I sidestep, hook his foot an he’s down. He slams on his front an lays there, winded.

I says, Right, who started this? Lugh?

No reply. He won’t look at me. Won’t look at nobody. He wipes his bloody mouth with his sleeve, his breath comin harsh, his chest heavin. He’s a fought-to-a-standoff mess. Shirt ripped. Britches torn. Scraped, bruised an drippin with sweat.

Creed’s the same. Tracker’s lickin his face, whinin. With a groan, Creed pushes him away. He rolls onto his back. Tommo helps him to his feet. He leans over, hands on knees, shakin his head. It’s a wonder he didn’t split his stitched shoulder wide open.

Creed, I says. You tell me, if Lugh won’t. What’s this about? Who started it?

He scowls as he dabs at his nose with his filthy shirt tail. Silence from him too.

Fine, I says. I ain’t got time to waste on you two. It’s a draw. Shake hands an that’s it.

They don’t move. Gawdamnmit, I yell, be a man an shake hands!

They do. One quick shake, not lookin at each other.

Creed, I says, yer headin out with Ash. Git yerself cleaned up an ready fer the road.

He jabs his finger at me. Hotly angry. I do not do what you tell me to, he says.

I’m askin, I says. Please.

Why doncha send yer dear brother? he says.

I want you with Ash on this. She’s gonna need yer help, okay?

C’mon, man, says Ash. Don’t be a bigger ass than you already are. She claps him on the shoulder as she passes. See you at the stables, she says to me. We’ll wait there fer orders.

Creed hesitates. His glance flicks between me an Lugh. Tryin to decide if he’s lost face or not.

C’mon, Creed, I says. Please an thank you. With a curse, he heads after Ash.

I grab Lugh by the shirt an drag him outta earshot. He nurses his fist. He avoids my eyes.

That was a disgrace, I says. You put us at odds with each other, we’re gonna lose this fight. An we won’t walk away with a bloody nose, it’ll be our heads on spikes. So think on that an whatever itch you woke with this mornin, consider it scratched.

He nods. I’m sorry, he says. I—

That’s it, move on, I says. I turn to go.

Saba, he says.

I look back at him.

I need somethin to do, he says. I’m kickin my heels here, goin crazy ever since the bridge. Please. Lemme make it up to you. Gimme somethin to do.

I cain’t hardly think, I’m so tired. I cain’t remember when I slept last. I bin on the go the whole night. Then all this trouble an now, here’s Lugh, askin me fer orders.

C’mon Saba, he says.

Okay. I got a recce tonight. Come with me, I says.

He goes off with Emmi to clean up an mend his wounds. Molly an Slim’s already disappeared. There’s only Peg an me left. I don’t s’pose you know who started it, I says.

Who started, what’s this, why oh why do bucks fight? Peg cackles an winks at me. She’s bin hunkered down on a fender all this time. Parin her knobbly claws with a knife an watchin the fight like it’s some travellin show. Whoops! I bin lookin fer that! She dives at the crashed junkpile, seizes a rusty crank an scampers off to her workshop.

Why do bucks fight. Why oh why, indeed.

I’m at the stables with Ash an Creed. Havin scared up provisions enough to keep ’em goin a few days, I fill their waterskins
an help load their gear. While I do, I tell ’em the route to the Snake River. By way of the Yann Gap an the Wraithway an what they should tell Auriel about what we’re doin here. You probly won’t need to, I says. She’s a star reader, she knows everythin. I want sixty of her people, the strongest an best she’s got. Bring ’em to Nass Camp. You know where that is?

Slim told me, says Creed.

You two gotta go like the wind, I says. You cain’t stop fer nuthin.

Fergit the wind, we’re lightnin, says Ash. Jest as soon as we clear New Eden. Whaddya figger … four days all told? Us to the Snake an hustlin sixty of them to Nass Camp?

Two, I says. No more.

She don’t even blink. We’ll steal fresh horses on the way, she says.

Send me word when yer crossin back over the Gap, I says. I’ll ride to Nass Camp an meet you.

What if they ain’t at the Snake? says Ash.

Dig me a grave with a view, I says.

She looks at me, puzzled.

Never mind, I says. A feeble joke. If you don’t find ’em, come back here fast as you can.

Maybe the punch-up got rid of some steam, maybe Ash boxed his ears, I dunno. But there’s the offer of a truce in Creed’s voice—if not his eyes—as he says, Slim told us what you did at the babyhouse. I still think the whole thing’s crazy, I
still don’t think it’ll work, but I bin … persuaded to give it a try.

I kicked his butt, says Ash.

That’s all I ask, I says. That you give it a try.

He sticks out his hand. We shake. Let’s make tracks, he says.

He goes to mount his horse, but Ash grabs him, sayin, Hey, hey, not so fast. Yer a mess, fergawdsake. Why should I hafta look at you all bloody all the way there an back agin?

His hackles rise. A snap sparks on his lips. Then he takes off his precious frock coat, hands it to her, goes to the horse trough, vaults into it, dunks hisself whole an clambers out agin on a wave of water. He takes his coat, puts it back on an swings onto his horse, drippin wet. I’m ready, Ma, he says.

Fast as you can, I tell them.

We won’t let you down, says Ash. Wish us luck.

I wave them on their way. Wish all of us luck, I whisper.

All quiet on the western front? says Slim.

He’s leadin Moses along. An what a sight. Poor old Moses. He’s bin decked out in a jaunty bell harness an straw hat to haul Peg’s junktub around her circuit. As he shakes his head to try an throw off his bonnet, the bells on his harness jingle.
He moans in despair at his plight. The King of the Pillawalla Camel Race has fallen low.

Now that’s jest cruel, I says.

Don’t git me started, says Slim. It’s a crime aginst cameldom, pure an simple. So, tell me, what was that dog fight about?

Yer guess is as good as mine, I says. They’re keepin schtum.

Well, he says, my guess would be that you got these young bucks forced to be around each other day after day. We’re talkin high hormonals. Maybe the wonder ain’t that they fought, but that they didn’t have a barney long before now.

You could be right, I says. Creed an Lugh ain’t never bin what you’d call friendly. Somehow they jest don’t jibe. They’re always talkin at cross purposes or doin somethin that annoys the other one. I sigh. The last thing I need is this aggro.

Somebody told you bein a leader was easy? he says. Give ’em somethin to do, Angel. Keep ’em busy. We all need to play our part in this. Every single one of us is jest as committed as you, each fer our own good reasons. You gotta involve us. We gotta see this happenin fer ourselfs. In fact, I’ll remind you that some of us was already up to our necks in this with Bram, well before you come along. That’s right, me an Molly.

An Cassie, I know, I says.

His head goes up. Like he’s caught a sudden whiff of the unespected on the wind. Cassie? he says. You tellin me she was with you last night?

I nod.

She’s a rare ’un, that girl, he says. I’m glad to know she’s okay. You better go git some shuteye. You’ll pardon my frankness, but you look like hell. An no sleep makes fer bad decisions. Here endeth the lesson, amen.

Amen, I says. Thanks, Slim.

We all need to play in our part in this
.

Gimme somethin to do, Saba
.

In the corner of the shed, with the echo of discord still hangin in the dustbeams, I make a nest in the pile of our packs an curl up, wrapped in Auriel’s blood red shawl. Quiet at last in the shadowcalm, my bones sink deep, my skin slacks with fatigue as I teeter on the cliff edge of sleep. Thoughts an cares, my restless days an nights of star flurry, fall away to the greedy dark of oblivion.

In the darkness of Auriel’s tent, she sits by the fire in her shawl. Her pale wolfdog eyes turn to me. We all got our parts to play in this, she says. Jack. Yer sister. Yer brother. You an me. The wolfdog an the crow. Long before you was born, Saba, a train of events was set in motion. Fer you, all roads lead to the same place
.

Bunkers an seedstores an visions in hills. An fall away, fall away to darkness.