Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (14 page)

"Watch,"
Maya said.  She leaned in close to her deer's face and scratched
it gently under its chin.  An aside to me, "The touch isn't
essential, they just like it."  I nodded, but she was intent on what
she was doing.  She started to hum in low, vibratory tones.  Shortly,
the deer pulled away, turned, and trotted across the clearing.  Foraging
behind some low shrubbery, it came up with a sprig of berries in its mouth, returned
and presented it to Maya.  "See," she said, "I knew I had
missed some!  I just asked it if it had seen any."
 
"Neat trick," I said, impressed.
 
"We use the same technique to issue commands while riding.  Watch
this." She started humming again, her big, brown eyes locked into its
golden ones.  In her concentration she pushed her lips forward in a
way that was surely not intrinsic to the technique, but entirely fetching
nonetheless.  This woman was such an amazing mix of grace and strength,
wisdom and innocence.  Completely lovely.  She blushed
suddenly.  "Oh!  I'm sorry, I should have said this
first.  The humming is used to issue specific directives.  But even
without it they can read the general sense of our thoughts." I was visibly
confused, so she continued.  "And they also spontaneously
broadcast them to any nearby deer, and thereby to any humans currently in
communion with them."  Oh.  Oh!  Now I felt my face getting
warm.  Sensing my discomfort, she quickly added, "Just watch
this," and returned to humming.  There was the beginning of a smile
in the corner of her mouth.  The deer lowered its head and bowed its
forelegs, enabling Maya to mount.  "Your turn," she
said. 
 
"So, I just hum, and think what I want it to do?"
 
"Sort of.  Think it, and feel it.  Imagine it already
happening."
 
"But I did it before," I said.  "Without even trying."
 
"No, you didn't.  You just made the sound.  I willed both deer into
motion the last time." Oh.  "But it isn't hard, it just takes a
few tries the first time.  Most people can do it, but some can't. 
You have to have some amount of imagination.  Some people just can't see
something that is not.  Why don't you try it?"
 
"I'll give it a shot," I said.  I imitated the sound Maya had
made.  Nothing happened.  "Oh, I forgot to envision it. 
Let me try again."  I hummed again, and this time summoned an image
of a deer lowering its head.  I waited until I ran out of breath, but
nothing happened.  "What am I doing wrong?" I asked Maya.
 
"Did you see your deer performing the action?  In your head I
mean?"
 
"Yes.  I had just seen you do it, so I pictured the exact same
thing."
 
"A-ha!" Maya exclaimed.  "That's the problem. 
You imagined a deer lowering its head.  You have to imagine your deer
doing it.  For that reason it's necessary to know your mount a little
bit.  You don't have to stare into its eyes like I did, but you must
familiarize yourself with its unique characteristics and mannerisms, its
personality.  Try it once more."
 
I wasn't aware that deer had personalities.  I looked mine over.  I
compared it with Maya's.  Mine had a curlier patch of fur right
in the middle of its chest.  It also had little brownish flecks around the
perimeter of its eyes.  I noticed that it chewed on its upper lip
periodically.  It seemed slightly younger than Maya's, and perhaps a bit
hyper...it repositioned its feet several times as it stood
waiting.  Little differences, things a casual observer might not
notice.  But was that enough?  I started to hum.  I saw a
vision of my deer lowering its head, upper lip held fast in its teeth. 
Vision and reality became one, as my mount proceeded to genuflect before
me.  I felt elated.  I climbed onto its back.
 
"Nice work!" said Maya.  "Now get it to
run.  I'll let you go first, so you know it's you doing it."  No
sooner had I pictured six hyper hooves stamping out a beat than I was compelled
to grab hold of my beast's neck as it lunged forward rhythmically.  Soon
Maya pulled abreast of me on her own deer.  She was beaming with pride at
the speedy progress of her new student.  Catching breaths between
hoofbeats she said, "That's quite an accomplishment, but that's actually
the easy part.  The hard part is controlling which thoughts the deer will
receive.  That's imperative.  You have to learn to section off a part
of your mind solely for communication with the deer.  They don't try
to read your thoughts, they do it instinctively.  Human emotions are
almost palpable to them.  I'm sure you can understand why that is
important."
 
My first thought was the recent embarrassing incident when I was musing a
little too loudly on Maya's finer attributes.  But then a
darker thing occurred to me.  "Can anyone commune with the
puurr-deer?  Even if the deer don't want it?"
 
"Yeah, that's the concern," she said.  "Magus has tried
many times to invade their minds, to eavesdrop on us rebels.  There
is no telling what kind of information he could extract if he were able to do
it.  He's no doubt tried every sort of sorcery and machine he can
think of, but as far as we know, he's never gotten in.  It seems the deer
have to be willing participants in the union.  And they can read enough of
him to know he's no good.  But that doesn't mean he'll never figure
out a way to do it, so you should start practicing walling off your thoughts. 
I can show you a few simple exercises to get you started."
 
"Thanks, that would be helpful," I said.
 
We were riding pretty much due north, the sun just beginning its long westward
arc overhead.  Maya addressed me again, "Why don't you give the deer
a series of commands?  It doesn't matter where we go, as long as we are
heading generally back toward camp.  The precise route is up to
you.  My deer will follow your lead." I did that.  It was
exhilarating, and I started to feel a modicum of control over the
direction of my life for a change.  Up to this point, I realized, I had
been along for the ride, following the lead of others.  At least now I was
making decisions.  I led us east, and the land dipped down to follow
a dry riverbed flanked by birch saplings.  We veered south over some
low-lying hills and then skirted the rim of an abandoned gravel pit.  Then
east again, across a broad plain toward a row of majestic willows whose
branches swept the ground as they were stirred by a southerly
breeze.  To the north, at the far limits of our sight, indigo
mountains marched along the horizon's edge.  Against the backdrop of this
captivating scenery, I remembered the words of Chaer-Ul.  I looked
back at Maya, as exhilarated as I, her face touched by the afternoon
sun.  Maybe I didn't have to leave just yet.

13

Drawing
near the place where the helicopter had come to rest, the unmistakable
high-pitched sound of its engine reached us through the trees, alternately
rising to a peak and then receding.  A small flock of white birds took
flight from the treetops, startled by the noise.  Our deer were wary of
the sound as well.  We decided to dismount where we were and walk the
remaining distance.  We did so, and the deer trotted back the way we had
come without a backward glance.  When the noise crescendoed again, they
broke into a gallop and disappeared into the trees.  When we reached
the clearing we could see Doog sitting in the pilot's seat, having reclaimed
his flight jacket.  The rotors were now turning in a lazy arc.  He
didn't notice us until we were right beside him on the ground.  Then he
gave an enthusiastic double thumbs-up.  Maya approached the
cockpit.  She placed one foot on the chopper's landing gear and opened the
door, sliding it back in its grooves along the vehicle's fuselage.  She
then nimbly swung herself into the chopper's now open side.  I
couldn't hear what she was saying over the engine noise, but I saw her offer
her canteen to Doog, who received it gratefully and drank. 
 
As I watched this exchange, a hand touched me on the shoulder, startling
me.  A familiar-looking, dark-haired man had entered the clearing and
walked up behind me, from the direction of the main camp.  He
had a closely-trimmed beard and wore a tight leather vest over a red
shirt with somewhat billowy sleeves.  After a moment I remembered where I
had seen him before.  He had been among those who had rescued me when I first
arrived in this world.  I wondered momentarily why I hadn’t seen him since. 
Dipping into my memory of that day I recalled his name: Jager.  "Reya
wishes to see you," he said curtly.  Maya and Doog had seen him by
now and were looking down.  "All of you." They couldn't
hear him, but he had accentuated his words with sharp and unambiguous hand
gestures, and they got the message.   

A
small crowd of people were standing near the front of Reya’s tent as we
approached.  Reya was pacing, looking worried.  She waved us over.  “I heard
the helicopter’s engine.  How soon will it be able to fly?” 

Maya
looked at Doog, who responded with a couple of simple hand gestures.  Maya
spoke for him.  “Within a week, we hope,” she said. 

“Good,”
Reya continued.  “There’s been an attack.”  Immediately my mind conjured images
of the horrific slaughter at Milltown, but nothing of that caliber appeared to
have happened here.  “My hunters came across a pair of Magus’ hell-hounds. 
They were feeding on something they had recently killed.  When they saw the men
they fled, one of them dragging a portion of a carcass.  The hunters took up
pursuit and felled the dogs with two quick shots before they got very far. 
When they investigated the remains of the kill, it was clear that they were
human, an adult and a child, too disfigured for easy identification.  A
headcount was taken upon the hunters’ return to camp, and it was determined
that a father and son had gone to fish in a nearby brook.  He left a wife and
another young child; she grieves for him now.” 

There
was a moment of stunned silence before she continued.  “And we all grieve with
the family.  Yet, as terrible and tragic as this occurrence is, we must
consider the broader implications.  It was not without reason that I used the
word ‘attack’, rather than ‘accident’.  I believe Magus is very close to
learning the location of our camp, if he hasn’t already.   This attack occurred
frighteningly close to home, a mere half-day’s walk to the northeast.  We
cannot delay our search for a new base camp any longer.”  She turned to Doog. 
“That helicopter will greatly assist us in locating an ideal spot.  I want to
be notified the moment it is ready.”  Doog nodded and saluted, a formal gesture
that was probably not necessary but seemed appropriate enough.  “There’s a
mountain range far to the southwest.  It’s about as far as I’ve ever ridden.  I
think that’s a good place to start, as a base in the mountains will offer good
visibility and will be more easily defensible.  I don’t want you to go alone;
you’ll need help should you encounter any unfriendly forces.”

Suddenly
Jeyt squeezed through the crowd, hand raised.  “I’d like to help in any way I
can,” he volunteered.

“Thank
you, Jeyt,” said Reya.  “I know I can always count on you.  But I’ve already
selected people for this mission, and I have need of you here.”

Nodding
acceptance, Jeyt lowered his hand in two jerky stages and stepped back into the
crowd, trying not to look too dejected.

“Kaire,
Jager, come along,” said Reya.  Oh yes, Kaire; another familiar face from my
rescue party.  She was somewhat stocky – not as tall as either Reya or Maya –
and strong-looking.  Not unattractive, but she definitely looked the part of a
warrior, solid and formidable.  Her hair was closely cropped and she sported
multiple tattoos on her forearms.  She and Jager fell into step beside us as
Reya led us away from other ears.  “Solely for the information of those now
present,” she made eye contact with each of us individually to ensure we
understood the confidentiality of this discussion, “I have sent messengers to
each of the nearest resistance outposts with a note regarding the suspected
traitor.  I have already heard back from the nearest two, and will keep you
updated as more information comes in.  So far, nothing fruitful.  Furthermore,
I have no intention of sending you to the mountains in the southwest.  That was
an attempt to lure the traitor into revealing him- or herself.  Whether or not
this ploy will succeed may only be seen with time.  I do have an intended
flight plan, but it will be revealed only to you five, and only a moment before
you take off. 

She
stopped, as we were now well out of hearing range of the tents or other people,
turned and said to Maya and me, “Continue to work on riding skills.  Our flight
from this place will transpire as soon as you’ve found an adequate location for
a new base.  Once we are resettled you will have ample time to develop
proficiency in combat.  Your present company,” she indicated Jager and Kaire,
“will assist Maya in that important role.  I assure you they are well up to the
task.”  She eyed Doog’s massive biceps.  “I imagine Doog can teach you a thing
or two as well.”  Doog grinned, deeply creasing his eyes.  “And one more
thing.  Kaire and Jager will alternate guarding of the helicopter until it is
ready to fly.  It is integral to our plan, and we can’t afford to leave
opportunity for sabotage.  Further, I have more guards than usual assigned to
watch the perimeter of the present camp.  All trusted men.  There is no need to
worry about being caught unawares.  That is all.  Get some rest and take up
your training in the morning.”

Reya,
Kaire and Jager turned back in the direction of camp while the rest of us
remained standing.  Doog wanted to keep working on the chopper well into the
night, but Maya forbade him, charging him to get enough sleep lest he cross a
pair of important wires.  Reluctantly he trudged off toward the tent that Reya
had provided for him.  “Any idea who the traitor might be?” I asked Maya.  “See
any nervous twitches during Reya’s speech?”

“As
a matter of fact, you looked rather uncomfortable,” she gibed.

“If
so, it was only because I suspected she knew where we had been,” I replied. 

“Seriously,
though, no,” Maya said.  “I have no idea, especially since I hardly know these
people.  I would even be wary of Jager and Kaire, but I have to trust that Reya
knows her own people, at least those closest to her.  It would suck if one of
them decided to sabotage the chopper while we’re in it, though.”

“That
would indeed suck,” I agreed.  I made a mental note to be hyper-aware of what
everyone was doing while in flight. 

Maya
continued to stand there for a minute, as though she wanted to say something
else, but she didn’t.  I couldn’t think of anything more to say either, so
after a slightly awkward moment I put my hand on her shoulder and said, “Well,
good night,” and turned to go to my tent. 

Maya
grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face her once more.  “Justin…”

“What
is it?” I asked.

“I
think we should sleep together.”  I swallowed hard, but she seemed deadly
serious. 

I
cleared my throat, but my voice still cracked.  “Sleep together?”

“Yeah. 
Somewhere in this camp we have a traitor who’s loyal to Magus.  We already know
Magus wants you dead because you didn’t stay dead the first time.”  I wasn’t
sure if she was referring to the death of Tal-Makai or to the attempt on my
life at Milltown.  I decided not to ask.  She went on, “I’ve been charged with
your care.  Therefore I don’t feel safe leaving you alone.  I have a slightly
bigger tent, so…it just makes sense.”

Normally
I wouldn’t have balked if a beautiful woman unexpectedly invited me to bed (not
that I had often had opportunity to test the theory), but somehow I was
relieved to realize that she apparently didn’t mean it in that way.  Maya
wasn’t like other girls I’d known.  There was a purity about her that was so
rare, that I felt it shouldn’t be so readily spoiled.  I think something in my
picture of her would have been tainted if she’d really meant it that way.

“You
don’t feel safe leaving me alone…or you don’t feel safe?” I teased.

“Don’t
make me throw you right here,” she said.  “We both know you haven’t started
your combat training yet.”

I
smiled. “I’ll get my bed linens,” I said.  I gathered what I needed and met
Maya in front of my tent. 

“Seal
up your tent so no one goes poking around,” she said.

“Good
idea.”  I did so, then followed her, tip-toeing around the outskirts of the
camp until we came up behind her tent.  I understood the need for discretion:
not that she was concerned about what people might think, but because we wished
to maintain the illusion that I slept in my regular tent, and to conceal my
actual location.  Her tent was indeed larger, and I set up my bedding on the
opposite side from where Maya’s lay.  She sealed the entrance behind us and lay
down on her side of the tent, utility vest and all.  I lay down on my side,
also clothed.  I stared at the shadows in the roof of the tent, listening to
the sounds of night insects, hoping that was all I would hear this night. 

After
a time, Maya turned her head to look at me.  “I do feel safer, too,” she said. 
I smiled.  I don’t think she could see it in the dark.