Authors: John Marco
The Eyes of God (82 page)
Kadar’s eyes darted carefully over the rocks. There were mountainous regions like this one throughout the desert, where both kreel and rass made their homes. The rocks protected the creatures from the relentless sun and collected water when the scarce rains came. Yesterday Kadar had visited a kreel nesting ground in a range of red rocks much the same as this one. And he had found to his horror that the clutches of eggs had been devoured; the kreels protecting them driven off. The sands of the desert did a poor job of maintaining tracks, but a few long trails protected from the wind told a very ominous tale, and a single scale left behind had confirmed Kadar’s fears. They were after a rass of enormous length, thirty feet across at least and as wide around as a stout man. It was an old rass, certainly, no doubt new to the region. Left alone, it would dominate the other snakes and eat its fill of the precious kreel eggs, for it had fangs the size of scimitars and could easily best the biggest kreel.
Sitting atop Istikah, Kadar knew he should be frightened, but he was not. He had never hunted a rass so large, but back home in his palace he had a collection of jaws from the beasts. There were eleven of the gruesome trophies now, polished to an ivory sheen and propped open to reveal their curving fangs. One more would make an even dozen. Or he would die. There were no draws when hunting rass. There was no quarter. The rass were swift and lethal, and immensely aggressive in guarding their lairs. To enter one was to invite their wrath, but Kadar had come prepared. Beneath his layered gaka was an armored suit formed from the scales of dead kreel, a remarkably tough but light plating that even the jaws of rass had difficulty piercing. Kadar had worn the armor to hunt many times. Tethered to Istikah’s harness was a spear with a long, thin blade, sharp enough to penetrate the rass’ lightly armored skin. He had a shield with him also, covered in kreel scales. Most importantly, though, he had his whip, the weapon of choice for kreel riders. Once, before the coming, the whips had simply been used to train the kreel. But losing Jitendra to the northerners had shown Kadar the need for the Jadori to defend themselves, and the whip had evolved into a potent weapon. Just like the rass, the whip was lightning fast. And at fifteen feet in length it could keep even an enormous opponent at bay. Kadar and his men had become experts with the weapon, easily capable of taking down a man or beast from the back of a kreel at full gallop. They had perfected the whip’s rolling, snapping techniques, and none of them ever left the palace without it. Not since the coming.
Just like his city and its people, Kadar himself had changed since the coming of the northerners. He was older now, physically. With the power of the amulet and its great spirit removed, he had aged. His dark hair was streaked with gray and he no longer had all his youthful vitality. Most of all, though, he missed Jitendra. She had been his most precious thing, his greatest reason for living. He often wondered if her death was why he tested himself against the rass, why he never heeded the calls of his advisors to send younger men after the beasts. He was kahan, he told himself, and so killing the rass was his responsibility. But even he knew he didn’t have to ride off after them alone. He chose to be alone. Maybe to die alone. He had responsibilities to Jador and to Grimhold, but if he died out here in his beloved desert, he supposed he really wouldn’t mind.
Istikah’s tongue continued probing the air. She had not moved a muscle since her scales had turned gold. The link between them told Kadar Istikah smelled rass scat. And something else. There was the usual scent of the enemy snakes, which equated in Kadar’s human mind to something like leather. But Istikah picked another scent out of the air, one that it took both kreel and rider a moment to comprehend. Old skin.
The shedding time.
Kadar gripped Istikah’s reins tighter, sensing her excitement. Like all snakes, the rass periodically shed their skins. It was at this time, during the shedding, that they were most vulnerable. If they could surprise the creature in its lair while it was shedding. . . .
Kadar didn’t like the idea of rushing into the rocks, but they needed to hurry to take the advantage. Istikah sensed his decision in a wordless instant, moving slowly toward the rocks. Such was the bond between them, so strong now that Kadar hardly needed tack at all. Istikah wore a saddle, which Kadar was strapped onto at the thighs to keep from sliding off her pitched back. A few light squeezes of his thighs, some gentle tugs of the reins, were all that was needed to control the kreel. They had become one. When they were together, they were more than a pair. Istikah picked her way over the sands, her powerful, biped limbs making no sound. She had sharp claws on her front limbs, which were much shorter than her legs but excellent for close combat. As she moved toward the rocks, she lowered her reptilian head, her large eyes narrowing, her tongue still pricking at the air. Kadar untied the shield from her harness and slid his left arm into its straps. With his right arm he took up the spear. Crouching low on his mount, he kept the spear out before him. If he’d suspected the rass would be out in the open, he would have chosen his whip, but if the beast was shedding he might be able to deal a quick killing blow without first subduing it.
Istikah’s wide feet stalked through the sand, and the ground began to harden as they entered the rocks. An archway of stone bid them entrance, and soon they were in a mountainous pass, very narrow and tall. Two walls of steep rock climbed above them, creating an avenue that split off into various, winding directions. Istikah paused, taking measure of their surroundings. Kadar watched carefully, assuring himself that the rass had not seen them. If, as he suspected, the rass was shedding, it would be too preoccupied to sense them, and they had entered downwind of the rocks, giving Istikah and her sharp senses the advantage. Kadar didn’t need to tell his mount what he wanted; Istikah probed the air for a moment, then chose her direction. The scent of the skin was strongest to the right. Kadar hefted his spear, still crouching behind his shield as Istikah approached the scent. Blood pumped like thunder in his temples. He was on a razor’s edge, lusting for the coming battle. All the rage he had felt at Jitendra’s death had been channeled toward these monster serpents, and Kadar knew his anger would sustain him. Twenty feet, thirty feet, a hundred feet or more; it didn’t matter how big this creature was. He could slay it because he was Kadar. He was cursed to live without his beloved, and no rass, however fierce, could interfere with that destiny.
At the edge of another narrow canyon, Istikah again paused. There were rocks in the way and she dropped down behind them, letting her long neck move her probing eyes and tongue along the scene. This was it, she told her master silently. Her primitive brain relayed the fact as clearly as speech. The shedding rass was beyond these rocks, hidden somewhere in the narrow gorge. It was easy for the snake to make its way into the crevice, and Kadar knew that rass often shed their skins in such places, away from prying eyes. Again he sensed the serpent’s vulnerability, sure that he could easily spear the beast before it noticed his attack. With luck it might not even be able to turn. The gorge was only about eight feet wide, and the rocks on both sides formed two sheer walls. There was light at the other end, space enough for the creature to flee, but if he speared it fast and true, there would be no escape.
Kadar pulled the wrappings from his face. He drew a slow, silent breath. He could feel the strength of his armor against his chest and legs and arms, but he hated the confinement of helmets. They were the garb of northern cowards. Good men of Jador wore no such defenses. They faced their opponents bravely, with full, unmasked faces.
At his command, Istikah stepped up over the rocks, staying as low as her big body would allow as she entered the lair. Sunlight slanted down from the stone walls, but much of the gorge was obscured by shadows and jutting rocks. Kadar studied the tunnel of stone, looking for a trace of the serpent. Anxious thoughts raced between him and Istikah through their arcane, silent link. Kadar could feel the reptile’s sharpness, her sureness of foot and lust for revenge. She was a fierce creature at times like this, as frightening as any rass. Her hooked claws twitched at her sides, eager to open the snake’s belly. Her keen tongue tasted the air, homing on the scent of shedding skin. Uninterrupted by Kadar, she slinked forward, her long, spiked tail straight out behind her.
As usual, Istikah spied the rass first. Her mind sent the message to Kadar. Together their eyes moved toward a hint of color in the distance. There, obscured by rocks and shadows, was the stout tail of the serpent. Half its long body was exposed but shadowed, while the other half was completely invisible. There was no movement from the creature, but that didn’t surprise Kadar. The shedding was a long and tedious process, and often came in fits and starts. It was common for the snakes to rest between bouts of struggling free. Kadar couldn’t help but smile. Only halfway through its shedding and trapped in this narrow gorge, the rass would be easy prey.
Gently now,
he told Istikah. He raised his spear. Closer. . . .
he told Istikah. He raised his spear. Closer. . . .
The kreel obeyed, and the multicolored skin of the serpent became clearer. This one was black and speckled green, swirled with golden cobra markings. Drawing closer revealed its breathtaking size. For just a moment, Kadar felt the tingle of fear. He had never seen such an enormous rass. There was a brief flash of regret as he remembered his friend Ralawi, pleading with him not to hunt the creature alone.
But I am kahan,
Kadar told himself.
I am better than this beast.
Kadar told himself.
I am better than this beast.
They were well into the gorge now. Each step brought them closer to their prey. Kadar grew suddenly uneasy as he spied the monster, still unmoving. Istikah sensed his apprehension and reinforced it with her own confusion. Both agreeing, they took another cautious step, then another, and realized with shared dread that they weren’t seeing the rass at all—they had stalked its dead and shed skin. Kadar felt the spear slacken in his grip. He was about to order Istikah out of the gorge when he felt a cold shadow climbing over his shoulder. Slowly turning, he looked into a pair of lidless, primeval eyes.
The great hood of the rass blocked out the sun. Two long fangs split its red mouth, and its horrible forked tongue vibrated as it let out a dreadful hiss. Its newly exposed skin glistened in the sunlight, moist and sparkling like a rainbow. A gleam of triumph sparkled in its strange eyes. Kadar froze under its glare. He was trapped now and he knew it. He gave the rass credit for its cleverness. With no time to turn, he raised his shield.
The rass struck like a thunderbolt, driving its hooded head against him. Istikah crouched as the blow smashed into Kadar’s shield. The quick maneuver kept them from sprawling, and Kadar quickly countered, jabbing his spear at the rass just as it backed away. The serpent hovered from side to side, watching, safely distant from Kadar’s weapon. Kadar knew he couldn’t flee. To turn and run meant certain death. At this range the whip would be best, but there was no way to use it in the confines of the gorge. There was only one way out.
So Kadar raised his spear and charged, screaming a war whoop. Istikah lowered her head and ran for its belly, her sharp claws tearing at the air. Surprised, the rass reared for a second, then brought its tail around to stop them. Istikah leapt. Almost bounding over the tail, the last bit of it caught her, sending her tumbling into the sand. The concussion of the ground rattled Kadar. Still strapped to the saddle, he looked up to see the snake’s jaws snapping toward him. His shield was up in an instant, battering back the reptilian head. Istikah hurried to her feet, but the rass quickly coiled its big body around, blocking their escape. Istikah charged its exposed underside, a doglike howl tearing from her throat. Her slashing claws caught the rass, ripping a wound in its belly. Enraged, the rass attacked again, striking for Kadar. Again his shield met the attack, again he drove it back. His spear jabbed at the moving target, missing as the rass easily dodged his attacks. Istikah moved like a dancer in the narrow gorge, her scales angrily speeding through colors. Kadar knew they had one chance. He needed to rope the beast to control it, to slow its great speed and give them the advantage. Quickly he tossed the shield aside, snatching the long whip from Istikah’s harness.
One more charge,
he ordered his mount.
Get us free!
he ordered his mount.
Get us free!
The kreel obeyed, driving forward with a snarl. This time the wounded rass protected itself, curling away. Kadar knew it would strike in a moment. Barreling past it, he turned in the saddle and uncoiled his whip, snapping it with blinding speed. The weapon quickly ensnared the shocked rass, hooking it beneath its wide hood. Istikah continued forward, dragging the monster with them. Its head hovered over Kadar, its jaws opened wide to grasp him. He rammed the spear into its mouth, pushing it past its upper palate and through its head. The serpent’s crown exploded with blood as the spear exited. Kadar released the spear but held tight to the whip. At his command Istikah kept running, dragging the writhing beast behind her, out of the dangerous gorge. Finally in the open, the kreel turned. Seeing the badly wounded rass, she raced in for the killing blow.
There was nothing the rass could do. It was half dead anyway. Istikah’s claws slid like knives through its soft scales, tearing open its belly.
When the rass was dead, Kadar ordered Istikah back. The kreel’s snout and claws were covered with blood. He unstrapped himself from her saddle, dropping down into the hot desert sand to take full measure of the beast, certainly the largest one he’d ever slain. Remarkably, he was unscathed. He decided once again that immortality was worthless. The kind of skill he possessed now only came with age.
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