Dream Drive Ch. 09

Heads were nodding. It was the second time in one night that dozens of people had been roused from their tents by a violent disturbance, added to everyone's weariness from the celebrations and the feast. Kunaya's words were resonating.

"Wise words, elder," Yukatan said. "Boonta. You will take Vuntha, and Katran. Ride into the plains and scout for five miles east. Wake me when you return if you find anything."

"Yes, father," Boonta said. "Though..." He wiped a bit of blood from under his nose. "I am not in the best condition, at the moment."

"Chaki," Yukatan said, "if you would heal him."

A dozen responses burst into Chaki's head at the thought of healing the nose she'd just broken. I'd rather eat slugs. I'd rather burn under the sun. I'd rather become the consort of a demon. I'd rather dance naked in front of the spirit guides from every tribe.

Instead of speaking, in what Chaki believed was perhaps the greatest display of personal willpower she'd ever mustered in her entire life, she drew the runes and flung her will toward Boonta. It was a simple task; his nose cracked once, then shifted back into place.

"Thank you, Chaki," Yukatan said.

Chaki's words were as stiff and formal as she could make them. "By your will, elder."

"Boonta," Kunaya said, "a word, for a moment." He gestured out through the crowd, and led Boonta a short distance away.

Yukatan looked over all of them. "The rest of you, sleep. And if there is anything more like this tonight, I'll feed you to Shaka."

Everyone took off in a hurry at that pronouncement. Yukatan sighed heavily, then looked at Chaki. "Girl. What in the name of Mother Earth is going on between yourself and my son?"

"Elder," Chaki said. She drew herself up, trying to put as much of the mature spirit guide into her voice as possible. "I swear to you, by all the spirits, and the angels, and by the One-Above." She raised her mark. "I swear by Shakhan, and on my oaths as a woman who seeks to guide the spirits of our tribe, I have not lied to you this night. Your son has lost his mind, and I fear for his soul - as much worth as it has left."

Yukatan looked at the back of her hand, and then back at her. She could see it turning behind his eyes, his hesitance, decisions torn between what he wanted to see and what he was afraid was true.

"Did Shaka tell you what he almost did to me?" Chaki asked. Yukatan said nothing. Chaki moved closer to him. "She told you. You did nothing then, and I did not speak of it further, because you are my elder - the elder my father chose. But if you continue to do nothing, then nothing good will come of it. If Jackson wasn't there to save me that night, Boonta would have –"

"Go!" Yukatan shouted. Chaki leaned away, blinking. Yukatan took a long breath. "Go to sleep, Chaki. I will consider this further in the morning. Hanta, you watch the girl."

Chaki watched Yukatan retreat into the night. She willed him to turn around, to change his mind, but he didn't.

She turned to Vuntha and Hanta. "Do you believe me?"

"I don't want to believe it," Vuntha said, "because apparently I'm going out scouting with a madman in a few minutes."

Hanta squinted. "There are bad spirits out this night. Once Shaka returns, the truth of this will find its way free." He hesitated, looking back at Chaki. She could see the question on his face. The only people that knew about Boonta's actions were Yukatan, Shaka, Jackson, and Vuntha, but she was sure that Hanta was taking a rather good guess as to what she'd meant. "Chaki," he said, "you should probably get some sleep."

Vuntha lingered with his father. Chaki walked alone through the camp. She ran through the events in her mind's eyes, over and over, and with each repetition she experienced the same boiling anger and confusion. Why couldn't they just see it? Why couldn't Yukatan just admit what Boonta was and be done with it?

Please hurry back, Jackson. Shaka.

Kunaya all but dragged Boonta by the collar once they were out of sight. He pushed them through the tents, leading them to one of the muddy roads that had been churned up by hundreds of footsteps between the encampments. This late at night, it was empty; they were distant from the closest tipis to either side of them.

"You test my patience, boy."

"The girl was with that man," Boonta said. "Tell-something."

"Commander Tell'ad."

"Exactly," Boonta said. "She saw my face. I had to make sure she didn't wake up. Chaki said she was Jackson Vedalt's friend. She would have told them about the –"

"Enough," Kunaya said. "I realize your position. But she was already unconscious. Even if she wakes, that collar keeps her unable to speak. Even if you managed to kill her, what would you have done with the body? Carried it out through the middle of the camp? Covered it with a cloth and hoped no one came to check on you?"

Boonta licked his lips. His eyes hunted for answers in the mud at his feet.

"You should have consulted with me before taking such a risk," Kunaya said. "Understand that I have extricated you from your own foolishness for the last time."

"Yes, elder."

"I've managed to maneuver you into a key position." The elder stepped up to Boonta and clasped his shoulder. He leaned in close. "You will be alone with Vuntha and Katran while scouting. Lord Hale's armies are almost upon us. You know what must be done?"

"Yes, elder."

"Good. Go do it." Kunaya slapped his shoulder again. "My own tribe is readying itself as we speak. Once it starts, ride around the edge of the conflict and find us. We will head southwest, then circle around to the other side of the mountain." The elder turned and walked off.

The green stone in Boonta's pocket felt heavy. He dragged in a long breath of cold night air. This was it. This was the moment.

He rubbed his hands together and glanced around. He felt watched. He scanned the dark places between the tents on either side of the foot-churned path. There was nothing. Just the wind and the dark.

He went to fetch his horse.

Katran gave a great yawn. He took a swig of water, then settled back on his horse.

"Vigilance," Vuntha muttered.

"Shut up, pebble."

"I don't like you either," Vuntha said. "Let's just do this and go home."

Katran snorted, shrugged, and flipped his reins a bit.

They rode close together, their horses plodding across the grass. Vuntha led slightly; Katran was behind and to the left. Boonta was further back on the right, completing a rough triangle.

The plains were dark. The stars weren't out; the sky was cloudy. A wind was driving the weather in from further west. It felt cold – a winter gust, heralding the end of autumn.

Vuntha drew his fur cowl tight around his neck. "I thought," he said, "you might have changed your attitude, after fighting with Jackson."

"Tatanka Ska is strong," Katran said. "I respect him. But I don't recall you two getting married, so until then, you'll have to earn your own honor, pebble."

"I did beat Boonta."

"You tricked him."

"I used his assumptions against him."

Katran made a considering huff. "How...calculating, of you. You sound more like Tatanka Ska every day."

"I think he's having a bad influence on me," Vuntha said.

"At least you have a sense of humor," Katran said. "Nothing worse than a dry pebble."

"My name is Vuntha."

"Oh, yes, how terrible of me to forget. Has it been five miles yet?"

"A bit further," Vuntha said. "Unfortunately."

"It'll be sun up by the time we make it back," Katran said. "I'm going to be tired on the day of my wedding. I already asked Malaki to move it back, but she refused."

"Why?" Vuntha asked.

"Chaki and Tatanka Ska are to be married tomorrow," Katran said. "She doesn't want our pairing to be an afterthought to theirs." He heaved a sigh. "Women. They'll sacrifice anything for the sake of appearance."

"Enough already," Boonta muttered. "Your complaints make me sick."

"The fiercest warrior of the Windseekers speaks," Katran said. He raised his head to the night. "Beware, spirits! The mighty Boonta shall brook no complaints."

"Shut up."

"Are you jealous that you're the only one not getting married? Perhaps you'll be single forever."

"Shut up, Katran!" Boonta shouted.

"Keep your voice down," Vuntha said. "Did you forget we're scouting?"

"But doesn't that sound like a romantic legend?" Katran said. "A warrior alone, against the cold and the bison – ah, I forgot. Boonta doesn't have to hunt. His father is the elder."

"Katran," Vuntha said. "That is enough."

"Don't instruct me in anything, pebble," Katran said. "You'd be nothing if Tatanka Ska didn't rescue your dignity from the mud. Why he bothers, I do not know."

"Perhaps because he knows about something called honor," Vuntha hissed. "And loyalty."

"Loyalty?" Boonta said. "What makes you think Katran knows about that? He only cares about a good fight. Like a rabid dog."

"And you only cared to use me as your tool for your pathetic little vendetta against your betters," Katran said. "Did you think me your friend, Boonta? I knew you'd get me my battle against Tatanka Ska, and you did. The tribes will never forget the day I withstood a warrior with the blessing of Shakhan for hours with naught but the strength of my limb and will."

"You know nothing of strength," Boonta said.

"Who was it that lost in the first round to a pebble?" Katran said. He started laughing again. "Who pushed aside his own spirit guide because he could not bear the weight of his own weakness? Oh, yes - I remember his name! It was the elder's son, Boon -"

A sharp grunt cut off Katran's words. Vuntha glanced over his shoulder, about to shout Katran down before he gave them away to the dark with his mocking bravado.

Katran had a knife sticking out of his side.

Katran slowly looked down at the wound. His head turned in confusion at the wet patch of blood staining his jacket. He slumped off his horse and tumbled to the grass.

Boonta jammed his heels into his horse and charged at Vuntha out of the darkness, leading with his spear. Vuntha threw himself from his mount, rolling across the ground and back up to his feet. Boonta's spear struck Vuntha's horse, stabbing it in the neck. Boonta wrenched his weapon free as the animal screamed and went wild, scampering into the night.

Boonta wheeled his horse and faced Vuntha. "And now there is no ring, and no rules to stop me."

"Boonta," Vuntha said. He gripped his spear tighter. "What is the meaning of this?"

"The meaning?" Boonta's face distorted into a sick expression. "You and your demon-fucked honor. Your whole family is a pathetic group of showboating warriors. Your father is just waiting for mine to die so he can take over the tribe! Second-guessing his every decision!"

Vuntha grappled with Boonta's words. "That isn't true. You know that isn't true."

"When I'm finished with you," Boonta said, "you'll be dead, and everyone else will be my peasants, and they'll slave for me for the rest of their lives. And it won't be this half-rule my father is satisfied with, running around like an exhausted parent trying to shepherd idiots. Real rule! Real power! And anyone that insults my name - I'll have them bound and sold as slaves!"

"Slave?" Vuntha shook his head, confused – and then it hit him. His eyes widened. "You sold us out to the iron men! That's how they captured Shaka and Chaki in the first place. They're out there, aren't they?! You were trying to kill Jackson's friend before she could tell us! You betrayed us to those honorless rats!"

"I betrayed you?" Boonta said. "I, betrayed you?! Chaki threw everything she had with me away after a few days walking alongside some white-skinned freak of nature! And you think I don't know what you and the others say about me? Lazy Boonta, the elder's son, relaxing in the shade of Yukatan! And Malaki – she passed me up for Katran, and now even Katran himself mocks me. You heard him – showing respect for that earth-cursed mongrel that did nothing except luck into his powers and stumble his way across the plains! You're the ones who betrayed me! All of you!" Boonta kicked his horse into a gallop, leveling his spear at Vuntha.

Vuntha had seconds until he would be impaled or run down. He couldn't fight a man on horseback alone and exposed on the plains. But his toes had been searching while Boonta had been ranting. He bent down and came up with a new weapon.

Vuntha chucked the rock at Boonta's horse as hard as he could. It struck the animal in the nose, skipping across its face. The horse promptly pulled up, tossing its head and turning away sharply. Boonta fought against it, trying to bring the animal back under control.

Vuntha ran up and jammed his spear into the horse's flank. He lodged it between the ribs and twisted. The horse made a screaming, high-pitched whinny, and bucked hard. Boonta was thrown clear off his mount and fell to the grass.

Vuntha winced as he pulled his spear free, hoping the injury wouldn't be fatal to the creature, but he hadn't had the luxury of being picky with his target. The horse ran off into the dark, as confused and pained as the first, still bleeding from its side.

Boonta rose off the ground with his spear. He gave his head a hard shake, then stalked forward. Death was in his eyes.

Vuntha focused on his breathing and set himself defensively. Tiring Boonta out had worked before. It could work again.

Boonta lunged, extending his spear with a one-handed thrust. Vuntha slapped it to the side, backing away at the same time. Boonta kept thrusting, and Vuntha gave up his ground.

Boonta chased after Vuntha with a flurry of thrusts, determined to skewer him. Vuntha stepped away from what he could and blocked what he couldn't dodge. There was no rush - he had an entire plain to work with. Focus. Don't get caught. Let him rage.

After another missed attack, Boonta growled and sprinted forward. Vuntha back-stepped faster, trying to keep his distance. Boonta's thrust had a short range, but it came in fast, powered by both his arms.

Vuntha deflected it to the side, but not hard enough. The spear tip nicked his upper arm. It was barely a deep scratch, but it distracted Vuntha for a moment too long.

Boonta was in his face, past his guard, turning his spear over in his hands. He whipped the butt of his weapon up from below. Vuntha blocked with the shaft of his own spear, stopping it from hitting his chin.

Boonta jabbed forward under the block, catching Vuntha in the throat. Vuntha coughed and stumbled backward. His feet caught on something in the dark; he wobbled, then fell on his back.

Boonta kicked at something – whatever Vuntha had tripped on – then marched forward. He thrust his weapon down.

Vuntha batted the attack aside. Boonta's spear struck the dirt.

Boonta drew it back in half a second and aimed another attack at Vuntha's stomach. Lying on the ground, Vuntha couldn't get his spear back around in time to block. He tried to roll away, but the thrust was coming in too quick.

Boonta grunted, then tripped; his feet were suddenly working hard, trying to keep his balance. His spear thumped into the ground next to Vuntha's ear. Vuntha kicked out, shoving Boonta back the other way, then rolled to the side and up to his feet, bringing his spear to bear.

Katran was up on one knee – he'd been the obstacle that Vuntha had fallen over. He'd pulled the knife out of his body and used it to slash at Boonta's legs. Boonta backed away, looking at Vuntha, then Katran. His left leg had a limp; Vuntha could just barely see the sheen of blood in the dark.

Vuntha glanced at his sudden ally. "Can you move?"

Katran nodded. He held the knife in one hand; his other was pressed on his wound. A dark stain was growing under his fingers. "I can move long enough to kill this honorless bitch!"

Boonta turned and ran.

Vuntha and Katran exchanged a glance. Vuntha took off after him. Katran tried to keep up, but he couldn't run in his condition.

Boonta made it to the closest horse – Katran's mount. It had wandered away somewhat, startled by the fighting, but unharmed. Boonta slung himself on the animal and ushered it into a gallop, riding out into the east.

"You coward!" Katran shouted. "Traitor!" After the last word, he broke into a fit of pained coughing.

"Katran!" Vuntha ran back and supported him under the arm. "That looks bad."

"Need a spirit guide," Katran said. He clung to Vuntha's shoulder. His breathing was pained and sporadic. "Have to ride back, tell them."

Vuntha nodded. "Lie down, keep your hand on it. I'll run and see if I can find a horse. I don't think I got Boonta's too badly."

Katran made an affirmative grunt. Vuntha lowered him back to the ground. Katran lay on his good side, holding the wound tight and squeezing his eyes shut.

Vuntha scanned the horizon for the horses, cursing the clouds for blocking the moon. He squinted. He could almost make out a silhouette of a horse in the distance; it looked like it was walking toward them.

More movement. Vuntha blinked. He crouched, and rubbed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he was seeing it, or if the thick of the dark was swimming in his eyes.

It was from crouching that he realized. The ground moved under his hands - a vibration, like that from horses or bison. Hanta had showed him that trick many times. Feeling the intensity of the earth's vibrations was a good way to gain your bearings if the herd was out of sight.

This one was different; regular, rhythmic, pounding. Like a drum.

A tiny green light shot up a few yards into the sky. Vuntha's eyes followed its arc. Just before it fizzled away, he saw them, illuminated against the night – rows and rows of faces.

Vuntha ran back to Katran. "We have to move!"

"What?" Katran protested with a groan as Vuntha lifted him up. "What's going on?"

"The iron men are coming! We're in their path!"

Vuntha shuffled Katran along as fast as he could. The sound drifted over the air a few moments later – the heavy fall of footsteps in time. The march of men going to war.

Vuntha nearly dragged Katran across the ground, desperate to get around the hazy line of men and horses. He tried to stay as low as possible. Katran worked to move his feet, but it wasn't much help. He grunted at the position he had to bend with his stomach injured.

"Keep quiet!" Vuntha said.

"It hurts," Katran growled.

Vuntha didn't dare risk more words. They were almost around the edge of the line of soldiers. The final group of men flanking the end were clad from head to foot in spiked armor. They held massive, hooked spears. Their feet clamped into the ground with the sound of iron.

And then they were past. Vuntha pulled Katran flat to the ground. Whether it was thanks to the dark, or the big helmets obscuring their sight, the two scouts went unnoticed.

The darkness that had just been his foe when searching for the horses had become his greatest ally. Vuntha sent a silent prayer to the One-Above for denying him what he wanted in exchange for what he needed.

The thick column of men roared by. Vuntha realized how they'd come up so suddenly – they were bent in a half-jog, their equipment and supplies jostling in great packs and canisters dangling from their backs. They weren't using torches – they couldn't, if they wanted to stay hidden – but, even with the thick dark, there were no sudden surprises out on the flatlands. They'd be at the mountain before the sun rose.

Vuntha heard hooves. He ducked his head back down. A group of horses galloped by on their opposite side; he could hear them talking, exchanging strange words in a guttural tone. More horses followed behind the main march of the soldiers, and then a long column of wagons. Considering the distance they'd had to come, they must have brought plenty of supplies. That was the quiet protection of the plains; outsiders couldn't easily survive in the open without bringing all the food they would eat, not to mention the struggle to find sources of water.