Star of Sakova Page 8

  “Someday when this trouble is over, my friend,” grinned Temiker,” I will return to your village and restore the memory of this voyage. When I do, you will remember me saying that I will bring you a new boat when I return.”

  Chapter 6

  Detour

  Lyra tried to shut out the constant pounding coming from the bridge overhead as she worked on altering Alfred’s pants. The rest of her disguise had already been completed during the several hours that Syman and Antello had been gone. Travel on the road south from Gatong had become impossible for the trio. Imperial Guards constantly traveled the road in search of them and they had finally hidden under a large river bridge. The bridge was wide and the ground sloped gently down to the river, leaving plenty of room to hide even with the horses. Syman had gone to search the road ahead to determine if the patrols slackened once they got away from the city. Antello went in search of information regarding the Academy attack and whether anyone had seen the invaders.

  It would be good to know the numbers of their enemy and whether they patrolled at night, Lyra thought as she put the finishing touches on the pants. Lyra stripped off her tunic and quickly cut it in strips to bind her breasts tightly. She rummaged through Antello’s pack and took out a plain brown shirt and put it on before donning Alfred’s newly tailored pants. Alfred’s leather vest was next with the black cap finishing the disguise. Lyra pushed her short blond hair under the cap and pawed through her own pack in search of a mirror. Studying her reflection brought a frown to her face. With her hair out of sight, it was obvious that she was trying to disguise herself. Lyra pulled the cap off and donned it again, this time leaving her hair hanging out. Lyra smiled at the new refection. Her hair, which she always kept short, looked natural hanging out around the edges of the cap and didn’t add any feminine quality to her disguise. In fact, her hair was shorter than Antello’s shoulder length locks. Lyra was satisfied that she could pass as Antello’s younger brother now and started cleaning up the area.

  As she was stuffing items into the packs, Syman arrived back. Anxious to hear his report, she rose and went to greet him. Syman swiftly dismounted and drew his sword, his face a knot of contorted rage. Lyra felt a shiver of fear race down her spine and turned around to see what threat had sneaked up behind her. Seeing nothing behind her, she turned again to face Syman and found that he had crossed the distance separating them and had his sword at her throat.

  “So thief,” Syman snarled, “what have you done with the girl?”

  Lyra’s eyes grew large as she understood what was happening and the words stuck in her throat.

  “Answer me now or die,” demanded Syman, his eyes darting around the impromptu campsite for any sign of Lyra’s body.

  “Syman,” Lyra croaked, “it is me. Not a thief. Me. Lyra.”

  Syman’s brow knitted in confusion for just a second as he stared at Lyra’s face. Slowly he lowered his sword.

  “Darn!” Syman growled. “I wish you had at least let me know you were going to do this. I almost slit your throat. Probably would have except that I didn’t think I would ever find where he stashed you if I killed him.”

  “At least you thought I was a he,” Lyra sighed while rubbing her neck. Syman’s sword did not cut her flesh, but she could still feel the cold tip of the sword at her throat even though it was no longer there.”

  Syman looked up and down at her disguise and chuckled. “Amazing what the proper clothes can do. I can’t wait until Antello sees you.”

  “You don’t have long to wait,” Antello announced. “I followed you in.”

  “Oh,” groaned Syman. “And I suppose you knew it was Lyra, right?”

  “Of course,” grinned Antello. “She’s wearing my shirt, my good shirt.”

  The tension relieved, the three students started laughing. “I guess the disguise is good enough then?” questioned Lyra.

  Syman nodded solemnly. “The disguise is good, Lyra, but the news about the road is not,” Syman stated. “There is no end to the patrols. The Imperial Guards ride far enough to meet with a patrol out of the next town and then turns around and comes back. There are enough patrols out that we can cross the road safely enough, but actually trying to travel down it is out of the question. I think we will need to find a trail that parallels the road if we wish to go farther south.”

  “There are actually two main trails heading south,” interjected Antello. “We are not the only people who feel uncomfortable with the Imperial Guard presence on the road. I almost got sliced in two this afternoon when I stumbled across some smugglers. I feigned ignorance of what they were about and explained that I was looking for a way south which wasn’t under the eyes of the Imperial Guard. They became very interested in why I was afraid of the Guard and I made up a story about seducing the Watch Commander’s daughter. I told them that the man had threatened to use his sword upon me when he caught me and that I was fleeing to the next big city, fearful that the Imperial Guard was on the road just to find me and bring me back to her father.”

  Syman laughed and shook his head, wiping the tears out of his eyes as he pictured the scene Antello was describing.

  “Hey,” Antello scowled with mock offense. “At least they accepted me then. Anyway, they told how to find the two trails, but after talking with them for a while, they mentioned groups of men with dark outfits on both of the trails. It sounds as if the invaders are free to comb the woods, while they have the Imperial Guard searching the road for us.”

  Lyra slumped down with her back against one of the bridge supports. “So, we have a choice of being arrested by the Imperial Guards or kidnapped by the invaders,” she sighed. “We are never going to get to Alamar. At least if I give myself up to the Imperial Guards, you two can get away and nobody will chase you.”

  “We will stand together no matter how bleak things are, Lyra,” declared Syman. “Where you go, we all go and I do not want to hear you speak of surrender again. If they catch us, they catch us all, but you will not do anything foolish to spare Antello and myself from harm because we will march in to free you if you do. Do you understand?

  Lyra stared at Syman, her feelings a confusion between rebellion against his assumed authority and gratitude for having a friend who cared so much.

  Antello slid down alongside Lyra and rummaged through his pack until he pulled out a large folded paper. “We will get to Alamar,” he grinned. “You worry too much and fret too easily. Nobody can stop the three of us. I took the map off the wall at the Academy in case we needed it.”

  Syman crouched down next to the other two and started studying the map. For some time the three students studied the map, sometimes running a finger along a portion of it as if the feel of it would help them memorize it or reveal some hidden mystery.

  Syman finally collapsed to a sitting position and stared off at the river below. “A lot of good the map does us,” he declared solemnly. “The only real road in Omunga goes clear around the country by hugging the coast. I do not see a way to get to Alamar without traversing it.”

  “Why can’t we just cut across the country?” asked Antello. “We have horses and it is a lot shorter than following the road. Then we might be able to secure a boat for the rest of the trip.”

  “The road follows the coast because the Sakova is uninhabitable,” answered Syman. “I have heard that there are dangerous animals and impassible jungles in the Sakova.”

  “Worse than that,” Lyra stated. “Strange peoples live inland. Some call them spirits, spirits who are far more dangerous than death itself. They torture anyone who enters their forbidden area and then eat them alive.”

  “There are pits beneath the ground which swallow men without warning,” Syman added. “Nobody goes to the Sakova and returns alive.”

  “Then it is perfect for us,” grinned Antello. “We do not wish to return. Besides, if everyone is afraid to go there, the Imperial Guard and the invaders will not follow us. They would not think of looking for us where they know we
would not go.”

  “Haven’t you been listening?” asked Lyra. “There are so many dangers taking that route that we would never make it.”

  “Ah, but I have been listening,” Antello smiled. “It sounds like a very dangerous trip, but look at the alternative. On one hand we have stories of ghosts and cannibals and man-eating animals. On the other we have Imperial Guards and invaders, not stories of them, but flesh and blood killers. I do not see any chance of getting past all of them on the coast road, even if we try to find trails that people have forgotten about.”

  “I think Antello may be right,” Syman frowned. “I sure do not like going anywhere near the Sakova, but we will not make it to Alamar along the coast. We thought all along that we could run to the Imperial Guard for help, but now we find them hunting us as well. When you look at it that way, there is really no choice for us to make. We can go through the Sakova and fight for our lives or we can stick with the coastal route and forfeit any chance we have of living.”

  Lyra looked from Syman to Antello and back again. She expected this type of bravado from Antello and was prepared to dismiss it outright, but Syman did not possess Antello’s rosy perception. Yet Syman was agreeing with Antello, which meant they really had no chance at all on the coast road.

  “All right,” agreed Lyra reluctantly. “I really do not look forward to being eaten whether it be by animal or cannibal, but I understand that it is the only chance we have. At least we won’t have to worry about the invaders or Imperial Guards. Let’s get some rest and leave as soon as it is dark.”

  Syman and Antello drifted off quickly, but Lyra lay awake remembering the stories of the Sakova she had heard since her early childhood. Alfred used to delight in telling her the latest tales whenever he heard one, but now she wondered if the stories were really true. She hoped tales of horror were fabrications because she would not survive the trip if half of them reflected reality. She had heard other accounts from reliable sources about people going to the Sakova and never returning. The people simply vanished.

  Lyra remembered the day a student asked Master Malafar about the Sakova and why the Katana did not try to build a road across it so the country would be better united. Her father tried to explain that the coast road was adequate and that sea travel was quicker in any event. The student pressed the question and Rhodella intervened. She told the student that the government did try periodically to conquer the Sakova, but their expeditions never returned and the Katana soon lost interest until a new Katana was chosen and then the lesson repeated itself. Master Malafar added that if the student had a choice between swimming out to sea or entering the Sakova, he would be wise to start swimming.

  Many other tales came to mind as Lyra stared up at the bottom of the bridge and tried to go to sleep. Remembering her parents had not helped any and Lyra found herself toying with her mother’s ring that she now carried on a chain around her neck. She thought about how much she missed them and her mind flooded with questions she wanted to ask them. Tears filled her eyes and she squeezed them shut. Her mind temporarily distracted from the horrors of the Sakova, Lyra cried herself to sleep.

  It was dark out when Syman shook Lyra awake and she sat up still clutching her mother’s ring. Antello was packing the horses and Lyra rose and ran down to the river to wash away the dried tears that stained her face. When she got back, her gear was already loaded on her horse and Syman and Antello were waiting. Antello crept out from under the bridge to check the road and returned. No one spoke as they mounted and rode eastward along the riverbank.

  An hour later they crossed one of the main trails that Antello had spoken about. Antello slowed as they approached it and checked both ways before signaling to cross. They continued eastward, weaving in and out of the trees as there was no trail to follow. A couple of hours later they came to the end of the forest. Antello halted and Syman and Lyra rode up beside him. The trio sat staring eastward at an endless expanse of nothing. The stars were visible right down to the horizon.

  “Perhaps we should camp here until dawn,” Syman suggested.

  Lyra thought he was probably thinking about the bottomless pits in the ground that might await them on the journey across the prairie. At night they would not be able to see where the horses were stepping.

  “We are too close to Gatong,” Antello declared. “We must cross as much of this prairie as we can before dawn. Anyone who looks out across this in the daylight will be able to see for leagues and we would be visible.”

  “You are right,” Syman agreed. “I just don’t like riding when I cannot see where I am going.”

  “Never fear,” Antello grinned. “I am leading and if I disappear down a hole, you have my permission to stop for the night.”

  “Very funny,” Syman shot back, “but it wouldn’t be the first time I stopped you from doing something foolish. Well, get moving. Get out there and find that hole so I can get some sleep.”

  Lyra smiled at their banter and realized that only true friends could be so wicked with each other. Lyra gazed at the stars as Antello started them moving once more. The sky seemed so large without buildings or trees blocking the view. The expanse of the night sky made her feel small and insignificant. Oddly, the thought had a pacifying effect on her, as if her troubles were really nothing big at all. Lyra looked north and south and could see the horizons in all direction but west, from which they had come.

  Visibility at ground level was poor as the moon had not risen yet, but Lyra knew they were traveling through a field of wild watula. The scent was powerful and pleasant. Lyra struggled to free her mind of the Academy, the invaders, and where they were going. She gave herself over to the night sky and the watula scent and found it calming. After a while, she detected the sound of crickets chirping and it grew steadily louder as they proceeded eastward. The moon made its appearance, peeking over the horizon at first, and then growing into a huge ball of soft light that bathed the watula stalks in a golden glow. After a while, the sound of the crickets grew loud and the ground turned soft. The tall stalks of watula gave way to a short stubby grass with little thickets of bush scattered about. She heard Antello shout a curse as his horse stumbled into a hole. It was the first sound any of them had made since leaving the forest.

  “I think we are heading into a swamp,” Antello called.

  “If you want to deviate from our course,” offered Syman, “I would suggest more southward. The other coast comes in closer to the south according to the map.”

  “I hate to waste the time on a detour,” Antello said, “but I do not like swamps either. I will try going a little farther south.”

  Going south for a while did not help. They steadily proceeded farther into the swamp. The grass was mostly under water and huge twisted trees dotted the landscape intermingled with tall reed patches. Mosquitoes buzzed the small party and the slaps aimed at the tiny insects sounded as loud as canon shot in the still night. Muffled curses mixed with the slaps and the sloshing of the water as Antello searched for a way out of the swamp. The moon’s light was bright now, but there was only swamp visible in every direction. Occasionally one of the horses would stumble into a deeper hole and Lyra’s heart beat rapidly until she was sure that it was not one of those bottomless holes she had heard about.

  Antello was soaked to the skin from finding those holes by going first. Eventually, Syman had pity and took the lead. Soon he was equally wet and cursing louder than Antello had. Time dragged on and Lyra knew they were not making much headway, and yet there was no place to camp for the night. They might be able to sleep in one of the huge trees, but she would not let the horses stand in swamp water through the night. Syman started weaving from tree to tree in hopes that the ground was firmer where the trees grew. The water level in the swamp appeared to be getting deeper and Lyra thought about suggesting that they all turn around and go back. Syman must have read her mind because at the next tree he halted.

  “This is not working,” Syman sighed. “We seem to be gett
ing deeper into the swamp and I see no end to it. I am going to climb this tree and see if I can find some dry ground.”

  Lyra looked up into the tree and screamed. Not three feet over their heads was the largest snake Lyra had ever seen. Its body was as round as her thigh and seemed to go on forever. It looked down at her and its tongue lashed out in a hiss. Lyra screamed again and her horse sensed her fright and pranced about. Lyra lost her balance and fell off the skittish horse into the muck of the swamp. Syman scrambled to lift Lyra while Antello restrained her horse.

  Lyra was soaked and mud covered as Syman pulled her to her feet. When she went to scrap off the mud, she screamed again. Her hands were covered with leeches and Syman began plucking them off her face.

  “Turn around,” Lyra screamed as she began tearing off her clothes.

  Antello secured the three horses and kept an eye on the snake, which was curiously watching the drama unfold below. Syman stared at Antello as he hummed a tune and Lyra was cursing as she frantically ripped leeches from her body and threw them through the air.

  “Check my back,” Lyra pleaded.

  Syman turned and started pulling off the leeches that Lyra couldn’t reach, still humming his little tune. Antello couldn’t hold his amusement in check any longer and doubled over with laughter.

  Syman stopped humming and announced, “They are all gone now. I will turn my back again.”

  “You had better,” growled Lyra as she dressed after checking each garment for leeches.

  After she finished dressing she turned to find that Syman had moved over to where Antello was watching the snake. Antello was fighting to keep a straight face and Lyra was fuming.

  “And what was so funny about being covered with leeches?” she screamed.

  “I am sorry, Lyra,” apologized Antello while trying to keep the grin off his face. “It was the tune Syman was humming, not your discomfort.”