Sword Destiny (21 page)

“You, boy, you know the priest who was with me. His name was Sahani. Run after him. Tell him he must stop the
Juahar.
”

The boy gawked. Everything was happening too fast for him. His face was blank and petrified.

“Go,” Kaseem screeched and gave him another prod. “Run to the temple courtyards. Stop the
Juahar
. Tell them the High Priest Kaseem says they must still wait.”

The boy backed away a step and then fled as fast as his legs would carry him. Kaseem was not sure whether he was just running in terror to avoid another thrust with the stick or whether he was actually going to carry the message. However, the boy raced down the stone steps into the city, heading in the general direction of the central square and the temple precincts and Kaseem could only hope.

He leaned against the wall again, feeling sick and weak, and stared once more at the wrecked Tri-thruster. He was certain it was the same ship that he had come to know so well in the river valley where the tiger hunt had ended so long ago. It was Commander Zela's ship and Laurya was part of her crew. Laurya, his eternal soul-mate, was out there, perhaps hurt, perhaps dead, but she was there. He knew it. Even if he had not recognized the ship, he was certain. His soul could feel the psychic link.

He saw the hatch cover open and saw Kananda emerge. If he had needed proof, then this was it. He heard Kananda announce himself and his heart leapt with joy. His prince was alive and had returned but it was not enough. He continued to watch the open hatchway and felt his anguish return when no one else appeared. At the very core of his being, he knew that Laurya was in there and that she must be hurt.

He had to do something and he bitterly cursed his ancient, useless body that would no longer fully obey his will. Then he realized that this was foolish. Nothing could change the fact that his physical body was now an ailing handicap and the only answer was to leave it behind. He looked almost guiltily along the wall but no one was paying him any attention. Their eyes were all fixed on the events in the centre of the plain. Beside him, the gate tower was topped by a small, open-sided room where the watchmen could shelter if necessary from a storm and Kaseem made up his mind and hobbled inside. The room was empty and there was one simple stone seat against the wall where the watchmen could take turns to sit and rest.

Kaseem sat and leaned his back against the wall. The seat was cold and uncomfortable but he ignored it. He was out of sight, unseen and unmissed. He clasped his hands in his lap as though in prayer and closed his eyes. He willed himself to relax and concentrate. He had never before attempted to break through to the astral plane from such a tense situation but the rules were the same. To shed his body, he had to allow every muscle to become still and limp, he had to slow his heartbeat, to let his breathing become slow and shallow, to clear his mind...

 

 

 

As Kananda prepared to meet Sardar in Kasim's chariot, Gujar picked up Kasim and together they headed back to the Karakhoran lines, there to get a closer view of the contest and to rejoin their companions in readiness for any further fighting. However, Gujar had barely touched the reins to his horse team when a shout hailed them. Looking back, they saw Kyle climbing out of the hatchway and waving frantically to attract their attention.

The young lords exchanged hesitant glances, torn between pleasure at recognizing an old friend and a reluctance to miss the first blows of what promised to be the decisive single combat of the war. Then Gujar wheeled his horses and brought the chariot back alongside the downed ship.

Kyle knelt on the edge of the hatchway, his golden face now grey with worry, but thankful that he had found faces he knew. “I need help,” he said simply. “Laurya has been badly hurt. I fear she may die if I cannot get her quickly to a healer.”

Gujar looked back over his shoulder to where the chariots of Kananda and Sardar were thundering towards each other in the first charge and his face was torn with indecision. This was one fight he desperately did not want to miss but the Alphan's face was equally desperate. Gujar knew that Kyle and Laurya were man and wife and Kyle and Zela had been their loyal companions when they had hurried to take Karakhor back from the first invasion by the blue men. They had all fought side by side. Gujar looked to Kasim and Kasim sighed and nodded. They could not ignore this plea for help from a friend to whom they owed so much.

“We will get her into the chariot,” Gujar decided, “and take you both into the city.”

They tied the reins of the chariot to the inner wheel that opened and closed the hatch cover, and then the two Hindus followed Kyle back inside. They were clumsy in the unfamiliar interior, banging their sheathed swords and arm shields on the narrow walls as they crouched to pass through. They came on to the flight deck where Zela was still at her control seat, staring at the view-screen that was now focused on the two battle cars as they met on the plain. She had argued with Kananda but he had been adamant in his course of action. Now she too was reluctant to tear her gaze away from what was happening outside.

“They will help us,” Kyle said. “We must get Laurya into the chariot and then into the city.”

Zela bit her lip, but then nodded and turned to assist them. Apart from the broken shoulder, Laurya's injuries were all internal and Zela was not sure how anyone in Karakhor would have the necessary healing knowledge and ability to help her. She feared that Laurya would probably die anyway but she could not bring herself to pass her doubts on to Kyle. In any case, they had to try anything that offered even the smallest hope.

 

 

 

In his astral form, Kaseem flew high over the battlefield, soaring in the wild exultation of being swift and free. He was again in the form of Kharga, the warrior of Ghedda, and he had instinctively willed a sharp sword into his right hand. He saw the chariots of Sardar and Kananda meet in the first pass below him, each of them striving to impale the other with spears, but he paid them only a fleeting glance. After that first joyful leap, he sped downward again, pausing to hover immediately above the broken Tri-thruster.

He saw the secured chariot and horses beside the open hatchway and knew that something had happened during the few minutes it had taken him to swamp out his physical senses and attain the higher plane. He recognized the double-bladed axe pennant of the House of Gandhar and knew that the chariot was Gujar's, but of Gujar and Kasim there was no sign.

He guessed that they could only be inside and so he too penetrated the open hatchway and made his silent, invisible way to the flight deck. Voices led him down another short corridor to the sleeping compartment where Laurya lay strapped to her bunk. Kyle and Zela were releasing her harness while the two Hindus helped where they could. Their discussion told him that they were planning to lift her on her couch mattress and then slide her down into the chariot.

Kaseem hovered close enough to see Laurya's face. She was unconscious and he could tell that she was near to death. She was bleeding inside and all that was left of her will and spirit was a feeble flicker. He knew that there was no way in which she could join him on the astral. If she left her physical body in its present shocked and weakened state, it would die. He was aware suddenly of what she had experienced when Dooma had died. With a flash of understanding, he too knew what had happened and what it had done to her. His soul recoiled in an agony of despair.

 

 

 

As Kananda whipped up his horses to meet Sardar's first charge, he saw that his enemy had leveled a heavy war spear and was aiming for a pass that would rip out his heart. Swiftly he sheathed his sword and took Kasim's spear from its rack to counter the move. The straining horse teams had their heads forward, necks stretched, hooves pounding as the two men tore at each other in a headlong collision course. Both teams were well trained and experienced in what was needed of them. They held the charge until the jerk of each set of commanding reins told them when and which way to swerve.

At the last moment, Kananda and Sardar flicked their reins together. The horse teams swung away from each other and the two flying chariots grazed walls as they passed. Kananda swung his body away from the razor-edged blade of Sardar's thrusting spear and the edge scored a shallow cut across his ribs. Sardar's howl of triumph became a curse of fury and he swept up his shield arm to deflect Kananda's spear in its turn. The arm shield shattered into a thousand splinters and Kananda's spear shaft broke in two.

They had plenty of room in which to fight and both riders hauled their chariots round in a tight turn to come back at each other, thundering again into their own clouds of churned up dust. Kananda was again at the disadvantage. He had started the duel with no helmet and no arm shield and now he had no spear. He discarded the broken shaft and again drew his sword. Sardar had drawn first blood and was encouraged. He screamed his war cry as he again thrust his war spear for Kananda's heart.

Kananda twisted backwards and away at the last second, the spear blade missing his chest by a hairsbreadth. The contorted movement almost threw him out of the far side of the chariot and in the same moment he swung his sword blade over and chopped down, smashing through Sardar's spear shaft. Only his tight grasp on the reins and a scrabbling grip with his left foot, which he hooked against one of the inner struts of the battle car, enabled him to keep his balance.

Again the two chariots slewed round to face each other. Kananda had momentarily lost complete control of his horses and Sardar was the first to charge again. This time he snatched a javelin from his rack and held it poised to throw.

Kasim's weapons rack was empty. The young lord had fought all through the morning and except for the one war spear he had nothing left but his sword. Now Kananda also had only his sword. He ducked the first thrown javelin as Sardar swept wide and saw his enemy reach for another as he turned his chariot yet again.

Sardar's weapon rack still held half a dozen unused javelins and he had no need yet to come within sword range.

Kananda gritted his teeth and thrashed his horses. Sardar turned again as he threw and again the speeding javelin sailed over Kananda's shoulder as he dodged and ducked. However, this time Kananda refused to pull his horse team away. He bore down on Sardar's turning chariot in a pounding of hooves and crashed the two chariots together. He was unlucky in that it was his chariot wheel that mounted high over the other, tipping his chariot over and on to its side as splinters and spokes flew from both disintegrating vehicles.

Kananda rolled in the dirt, gasping and struggling as his rearing horses plunged and pulled and dragged him by the reins still looped around his left wrist. He swung his sword blade desperately to cut through them, but by the time he was free, Sardar had again turned his broken and half demolished chariot and come back. Now it was Sardar's horse team that reared above him, the sharp hooves kicking and slashing down as Sardar strove to rein them in on top of him.

Kananda rolled over again in the choking dust as a hoof grazed his face. He was dimly aware of Sardar standing as high as he could on the dragging chariot, trying to keep him spotted and to keep the horse team twisting and turning after his wriggling form. Sardar was leering and laughing happily, trying to simply trample him into the ground.

Kananda was choked and blinded by the churning dust, but in all his frantic efforts to squirm clear of the wildly neighing horses, he had kept his grip on his sword. He made one last, heaving roll, and in the same movement he hacked upward and back with all the remaining strength of his sword arm. The keen blade cut deep into the hock of the nearside animal, almost severing the leg. The horse screeched, dropped forward and rolled helplessly, dragging its teammate down with it. Kananda continued to roll and only just escaped being crushed beneath the falling steed.

He pulled himself to his feet, staggered back and waited. With the back of his left hand, he wiped the dirt and mud away from his eyes while he gasped in air and again readied his sword.

Sardar was still hanging on to the back of his broken chariot, but slowly he realized that his horse team was down and going nowhere. He threw down his reins and looked for his opponent, almost unable to believe that the prince of Karakhor was still alive. With a roar of rage, he drew his sword and stepped down on to the plain.

There they were at last equal.

 

 

 

Kaseem could do nothing to help as Laurya was carried through to the flight deck, and although his presence was intangible and unseen, he had the awkward feeling that he was in the way. He backed up and emerged from the spaceship. Again his spiritual form soared high, relieved again to be free. His first instinct was to rush back to his body and make preparations to receive the woman he loved, but now that he was flying high, he could not resist one last aerial survey of the battlefield.

Below him, the chariots of Kananda and Sardar were wheeling and turning in the first mad rushes of battle, but after a moment he tore his gaze away and took note of the wider scene. The warriors of Karakhor had moved forward to watch, Devan and the younger princes leaning forward in their chariots, the rank and file resting and leaning on their spears, the butts firmly planted on the ground. There was a wide avenue before them, where the two chariots dueled, and then the Maghallan lines beyond. Behind them there was now another open avenue between their backs and the river.

Kaseem frowned. There was an undefended route into the city and he wondered whether the enemy had noticed. He swooped down, looking for those whom he knew were the most dangerous. Nazik and Tuluq were both missing from the front lines of Maghalla and he found their chariots in close conference, side by side at the rear. Instinctively he knew that they were planning treachery.