Hiero Desteen: 01 - Hiero's Journey (38 page)

Far away, in a crypt deep under the earth and cobbles of old Neeyana, a figure turned away from, an instrument board with an exclamation of disgust. "Is this your vaunted efficiency?" the hooded shape hissed to another standing near. "The Yellow Circle would show the Blue, eh? I'll have a word with your Masters in due season!" S'duna of the Blue Circle, enraged and frustrated, left the chamber, his cold rage going before him like a noxious cloud. All who felt it shrank away and hid themselves, but elsewhere in the Unclean citadel, new orders were given and the servants of the Yellow Circle sprang to new action. Another stroke unaccountably had failed, but the chase would not be given up, not while one of the Dark Brotherhood remained.

The camp that night, set deep in the canopy of the great trees, was not a cheerful one. The seamen, long used to the open air, felt the dank heat and the smothering darkness as doubly oppressive and frightening, even though Gimp and Blutho maintained a stern discipline and also continually pointed out that no lives had been lost. Both Hiero and Luchare nursed bad bruises from being dragged through the thickets for a hundred yards in Klootz's initial panic. Two small fires kept some of the gloom away, and a low barrier of fallen logs and branches encircled the camp, providing at least some psychological protection, if nothing more.

But the vast tree trunks rising out of the limit of firelight into the upper dark, the mysterious cries and sounds of the encircling jungle, and the blazing eyes which stared out of the night at the fires, all combined to make the men huddle together and talk in low tones or not at all.

"We were lucky to find this clearing," Hiero said, stoically trying to avoid noticing his
battered arms and legs. He knew Luchare was equally in pain and also saying nothing, and his heart went out to her. They sat a little apart, with the bear and the morse, the latter now peacefully chewing his cud.

Brother Aldo had vanished earlier, saying only that he would be back before moonrise, "Not that the moon will shed much light down here," he added.

"I guess he went to find that trail, that is, if anyone can find it," the girl said. Her dark face was drawn and tired in the light of the flames.

"Listen to that, will you!" Hiero said, springing to his feet, hand on sword. All the others had leaped up, too, as a perfectly appalling racket burst out not far away, hideous, earthshaking screams of rage rising above a deep, hoarse bellowing, as if the father of all cats had attacked the granduncle of all bovines. The bellowing sound alone made Klootz's loudest efforts sound like a baby's squall. As suddenly as they had begun, the frightful sounds died away, leaving everyone half-deafened. The ordinary screeches, yells, and howls of the night resumed, aided by the sounds of countless stridulating insects. The men slowly settled down again.

A large beast indeed,
came a placid thought from Gorm.
And it was attacked by one almost as large, which it slew. Now it is very angry, I think I would tell the men to be quiet.
Very
quiet.

Hiero dashed to the nearest group, hissing for silence. One look at his face brought compliance. If the bear warned, he had learned, it was as well to listen. Soon all the men were waiting, weapons drawn, not moving, but simply crouched and staring nervously around and outward.

It comes,
was the bear's thought.
Be ready.

The Metz stood next to Klootz, trying to shield Luchare, who faced the same way into the dark as he did. It was to the south, he noted idly, trying to detect the creature's mind as hard as he could. Presently he thought he had found it. The brain was not too unlike that of the morse, but far, far more stupid, and now filled with insensate rage and much pain as well. Hiero tried to probe it, but the animal was simply too new to him. He had not realized previously how alien the minds of the great herbivores really were and how much simple affection and long, mutual training had to do with his control over the big morse. He tried again, but the brute mind was too full of mad rage for any inexperienced hand to take over its control. And Aldo was absent.
No, I'm back,
came a quick, clear thought.
Get one of its mind,

Hiero, and leave me alone! I'll try to turn it. Hurry!

Now everyone could hear the monster. A footfall, so ponderous it actually shook the forest floor, began to echo at a steadily increasing beat. Great snorts and grunts sounded.

Get away from the fires!
came the old man's thought.

Hastily Hiero passed it on, and Gimp and the men began to scurry away to either side.
Luchare pulled Klootz's head around, and the two tugged him off behind the buttress root of a great tree, clearing the flimsy camp barrier as they did.

Now the incredible steps broke into a crashing run, and almost at the same time, the creature gave voice. Its fight with the slain attacker must have been further away than he realized, the priest thought, as that awful, ringing bellow almost shattered his eardrums.

Out of the dark it came, perhaps just such a titanic bulk as must have peopled the earth for millions of years in the past, before the coming of man. Now, due to incredible hard radiation and consequent forced mutation, the same conditions of life had once again given such creatures another, second chance. Its great, brown head, short-trunked on a heavy, columnar neck and carrying upper and lower pairs of ivory tusks, towered up at least twenty feet above the terrified men. The close-furred giant body sloped from pillarlike front legs to shorter ones in the rear, and as it passed, the Metz saw its tiny tail, a mere afterthought, flapping in the air. Fresh wounds on its flanks gleamed red in the firelight, and the small, ruby eyes gleamed also as it sought for fresh enemies. But the fires seemed to distract it. It charged straight and hard at the nearest and careened right through it, sending burning logs spinning in every direction. Its voice rising to a new volume, it charged the next fire and scattered that also. Without ceasing its incredible rush, it blundered across the little clearing, through the barrier, and into a gap between two monster trees. Even as the light died, it vanished from sight. Everyone stood, appalled, in the gathering gloom, listening as it lumbered on and away, crashing a course off into the distance, still roaring hideously as the pain of its burned feet, added to the previous wounds, reached the tiny brain. Almost before one realized it, the sound had died away in the distance and the "normal" noises of the night forest once again resumed.

"All right, men," Brother Aldo's voice came cheerfully. "Let's get those fires going again and build up the barrier. It won't be back, but other things may. Hurry up now; no time for idling." The old Elevener, appearing out of nowhere, stood in the middle of the clearing, helping Gimp and Hiero direct the work, until all was as before, except that the barrier was now chest-high at least. When new watches had been set, he told Gimp to turn over command to Blutho and join them. At this point they discovered that three men were missing, all ordinary seamen.

"Probably ran off in a panic and got lost or ate by something," Gimp said philosophically. "If people
won't
listen, what can you do? I tell them no-good swipes a thousand times, 'Stay here with us,' but they know better!"

"I'm afraid you're right," Aldo said. "Let us be glad it's not worse. At least I can detect no Unclean activity, only the Poros, that poor, simple beast which blundered into us."

"Poor beast!" Luchare burst out. "That great horror!"

"Well, yes, I think so," was the gentle answer. "This is his forest, you know, princess, not yours. He had just been in a terrible fight and he thought he saw more enemies in us. I sent him to bathe his burned feet in the Inland Sea," he added, "and now he'll feel better." His tone was exactly that of a nurse whose spoiled charge had been soothed.

Hiero smiled to himself. The Eleveners were indeed the guardians of all life! He rather approved, he realized, though it would take a long time for him to see the Brobdingnagian Poros as the simple-minded child that Brother Aldo obviously did.

"Now that that's over, I think I can keep us from being bothered by any more of the forest people, at least tonight. And I
have
found the trail, you'll be glad to know." The old fellow beamed at them in pleasure and stroked his curly beard affectionately.

"I'll be glad to know a lot of things," Gimp said aggressively, "such as who's going to pay me for a new ship, not that there's another like old
Foam Girl,
mind. And all her cargo, too, gone in a wink, plus the juicy plunder I claimed from Roke's ship, and hard-won that was. All in all, Brother, I could have retired on that lot, and my men too. Who's to pay us, eh, and when and also where? Are you going to wander about in this wood until we're all ate by something like that walking mountain we just missed?" Despite his gloomy words, Hiero noted that the little seaman's eyes were still bright and his ridiculous pigtail still perky. Though he would have died rather than admit it, Gimp was a pure romantic, actually one of those people who revel in constant excitement and new ventures. He liked pay, of course, if he could get it, but it was only secondary, and so was his grumbling. Now he cocked an eye from Hiero to the old man in question.

Brother Aldo knew his man. "Why, Captain, can't your hardy men stand a little discomfort? Surely those who've ridden out gales and fought cannibal slavers and angry sea beasts aren't afraid of a few days' walk in the woods?"

Luchare and Hiero grinned at each other in silent companionship. "Few days* walk in the woods" indeed! But it was the right note to strike with the squat little seaman.

"I've got the toughest crew afloat," he boasted. "Why, Roke's men would
all
have run when that big beast come rampaging through here. No, those men'll follow me through hot pitch. But what about our pay? And where are we going now?" His voice was eager on the last question.

"Well," Aldo said, "I have no real right to promise anything like this, but if, mind you, if our Ruling Council agrees with me, all your damages will be paid, including the loss of your ship. After all, you are on Eleventh Commandment business, are you not?"

"Your word's good with me, Brother," Gimp said. "You can't say fairer than that. But what now?"

"I can supply some answers there, Gimp," the Metz interjected. "We're going southeast, the Brother and I, and I guess you and the crew had better come too." He waved his hand around at the monster tree trunks and the shadows at their feet. "I don't imagine your men are going to want to strike off alone, are they? Three are gone already. I've probed the night with my mind and so has Aldo, and we detect nothing. I fear they indeed have provided someone a quick dinner. Can you make this danger plain to those who remain? We must stay together."

"Yes," Aldo added, "and tell them Hiero will command the whole expedition from now on. This trip is land work, and we need land discipline and experience. I will assist him, of course, and
you'll remain in direct command of your own people."

"Suits me," the sailor said. "There won't be no problem about that. I've got thirty men, no, twenty-seven; forgot those scourings that run off. Plus me and Blutho. We have food for two weeks, but only seven big water skins. How's this place for water?"

"I'll find you water and game too," Aldo answered. "We'll leave at dawn. The trail is less than a mile from here, overgrown but still a. good road. The beasts use it and so can we, but humans don't seem to have been over it for a long time, at least as well as I can tell in the dark."

As the moon gleamed through the far-off branches and the fires died down to orange coals, they talked on, planning as well as possible the next day's march. At intervals, Hiero probed the night for enemy mind sweeps, but encountered nothing suspicious. The high forest teemed with life, but it was natural to it, predators and prey, fur, scale, and feather.

Eventually they slept, though with watches set and regular changes of guard.

The next morning Klootz, to his annoyance, was loaded with supplies.
Behave yourself,
Hiero told him.
I'll get to ride you soon enough.
The morse bull was, in fact, trained to carry burdens on occasion, so that his irritation was a matter of pride. He had carried urgently needed supplies to more than one isolated Kandan village in the past. Now he shook his great, black antlers and brayed until Luchare's ears rang. The forest answered with a chorus of screams and yells, and the day's march began.

First went Hiero and the bear, scouting the path. Next came the mate and his picked crew of axe and cutlass men, ready to cut through any bad obstructions. The main body of seamen under Gimp came next, all armed with swords and pikes. A small group of picked bowmen followed, and last of all, the morse, Luchare, and the old Elevener. While he disliked being separated from them, Hiero himself had chosen this march order as being the most sensible. It gave them a telepath at each end of the column, and danger was more likely to come from in front than the rear.

As Brother Aldo had promised, they soon struck the old trail. Hiero's instinct told him that it ran almost due southeast; and although small bushes broke its surface here and there, it was still easy marching. The sailors cheered up and began to sing, songs which Luchare appeared determined to ignore while carefully memorizing some of the worst to try later on her lover. Part of the cheer, Hiero learned when they stopped for a noon meal, was due to a crafty rumor of Gimp's that they were in search of a great buried treasure. This artless tale has seldom failed to arouse sailors of any time or nation, nor did it now.