Flight of the Eagles (4 page)

“Get that guard up!”
Slap!

“I thought you were anxious to learn!”
Slap!

“Pick up your clumsy feet!”
Slap! Slap! Slap!

During these sessions, Josh learned one lesson he would later treasure—to fight back with fiery determination, no matter how great the pain.

When Josh could hardly lift his sword arm, Tam would take him to a grove for archery practice. Many times Josh's fingers bled until the string was red, but he never complained. He began to be rewarded with the satisfying
thump
that sounded each time an arrow split the center of the target.

Volka used up whatever was left of Josh's strength, teaching him to saddle and unsaddle his horse. Josh's horse was a rather ugly roan pony named Roland. At first, Josh hated the horse because he had trouble staying on the spirited animal. But soon he came to love and trust the sturdy little beast.

One night, long after the others had gone to bed, Josh sat sleepily listening to Crusoe ramble on about the customs in Nuworld. Josh's mind was on his life as it now was. Suddenly he had a thought that sat him bolt upright.

“Say! Do you know what I am?” Then he laughed at Crusoe's blank look. “I mean—think of all I'm doing right now—fencing, shooting the bow, riding, hunting. Why, I'm a
squire
!”

Crusoe nodded seriously. “I think it's good for you to see yourself like that.”

Josh smiled shyly, then shared his deepest secret with the old man. “I always loved stories about knights. But I never expected to be one.”

“You're not one
yet,”
Crusoe declared emphatically.

“And there's more to being a knight than slaying dragons!”

“What do you mean?”

“Knights did a lot of things, but they really had only one purpose. That was to destroy evil and find good. That sounds trite, I know, but Josh, that's the Quest—the search for goodness that all true knights pursued. And that's what you must pursue.”

Josh looked down at his skinny frame with a shrug. “I don't look much like a knight,” he said sadly.

“That doesn't matter,” Crusoe snapped almost angrily. “What is important is that you think like one and act like one.” Abruptly he got up and stalked away, leaving Josh to his own thoughts.

Perhaps it was this talk that led Josh to new heights of concentration. In any case, the next day during the fencing match he surprised Mat by driving straight at him so furiously that the dwarf lost his sword.

For one moment, the dwarf felt the point of Josh's sword against his throat, and Mat fell speechless.

Then Josh lowered his point and said quietly, “It's time to begin.”

Stung by Josh's victory, Mat cried out loudly, “Just because you had a little luck—”

“I know, Mat, I know—but we
can't
wait forever! I'll never be as good at everything as all of you are. I say it's time.”

“I think you're right.” Josh turned and saw Crusoe standing in the doorway. “We'll meet tonight in the council room and decide what to do.” He left as abruptly as he had appeared.

It was late that night by the time the work was done. For a while they sat silently in the flickering candlelight. When anyone spoke, it was usually to debate the next step in the plan.

“We can't just charge all over the country looking under rocks for the Sleepers,” Mat almost shouted.

“Well, who said we would?” Tam grinned. “We'll simply keep our eyes and ears open. With the good luck that's due to us, we'll find them.”

“Takes more than luck,” said Volka slowly. “What do we have, really—to follow, I mean?”

Josh let the silence run on. Then he said with some hesitation, “Well, we have the songs. I don't understand them though.”

“I found one thing in them,” Tam said suddenly. “There's a certain combination of numbers in each one of them.”

“What's that?” Crusoe said sharply.

“Look at them,” Tam urged. “They're all in two parts, like this first one.

‘Full deep the silent sleeper lies.

‘Down below the burning heath,

deep within the empty sheath.'

“You see, there are 8 syllables in the first line and 14 in the last line.”

“But what does it mean?” Josh asked.

“I don't know,” Tam admitted, “but every verse has something like it. See, the rest of them go like this—” he read off the list slowly “—10–15, 10–7, 18–15, 25–17, 16–8, 2–8.”

“It might be a code, a secret message,” Josh whispered excitedly.

They spent the next three hours trying to juggle the numbers around into something that made sense before finally giving up in despair.

Strangely, it was Mat who figured out the code, even though he had taken a sneering view of the whole affair. They were sitting in silence almost ready to go to bed, when suddenly Mat sat up straight and said, “I've got it!”

He jumped up and grinned so broadly that his sour face almost shattered. “I've got it,” he hollered again and again. “I've got it!” Then he stopped. He forced his habitual scowl back on his face and added grumpily, “And it'll probably get us all killed.”

“What is it, Mat?” they cried together.

“Do you have that map you were looking at the other day?” Mat asked Josh.

Josh took the map from his pocket and handed it over.

The dwarf spread it out on the table. “See these numbers along the top? And then these that run down the side? Well, I think they are the key to the songs.”

“But how does it work?” Josh asked.

“The first number is 8–14. We find the 8 here on the top line,” Tam said, moving his stubby finger across the paper, “then we find 14 on the side and where they cross—”

“Is where we are!”
Crusoe interrupted in his cracked voice. He seized the paper and waved it around, stopping to show the others. “See, it's our exact location! Oh, things have changed, but I know the old land well, and 8–14 is the exact spot we are standing on.”

Then he stopped, and a strange light came into his eyes. “Now I understand the song!” he said slowly, putting down the map. He lowered his reedy voice to only a whisper, “‘
Down below the burning heath
.' That's the land up there, and that's how my face got burned as it is, during the Terror.

“And that line ‘
Deep within the empty sheath
.' Why I didn't see it before, I don't know. This silo is a sheath of a kind. Instead of a sword, this sheath contained a missile.
But since the missile has been fired, the sheath is now
empty
. And here the Sleeper lies.” He touched Josh's arm gently.

Josh said quickly, “You mean that the numbers from the song and the numbers on the map will tell us exactly where the Sleepers are?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Whee!” Tam shouted and turned a pair of cartwheels. “Why, we'll have them all awake in a week!”

“Not likely.” Mat grunted. “Look where the next Sleeper is located.” He had been looking at the two papers, and now his stubby finger came to rest at a place on the map.

They all looked at the spot.

Josh heard Crusoe draw a sharp breath. Looking around, he saw a tense expression on every face. “What's the matter?” Josh asked. “Where is the next Sleeper?”

There was a hollow silence, as if each of the others wanted someone else to say the name.

Then Mat spoke in a low voice filled with dread. “It's right in the center of the Forbidden Land!”

4

The Second Sleeper

F
rom this point we must be very cautious. The Temple of the Sanhedrin is very close to where we're going.”

Josh listened carefully as Crusoe spoke. They were resting their horses at the edge of a wild forest of ancient oaks. The great trees had been twisted into strange shapes by some unbelievable force.

The travelers were all mounted on sturdy ponies, except for Volka, who was too large for any horse. In addition, each led a packhorse laden with food, extra clothing, camping gear, and weapons.

For more than a week they had prepared for this journey. Then before dawn that very day, Crusoe had rousted them out and gotten them on the road. Since that early morning beginning, they had pushed on steadily, with only a brief stop for a quick meal at noon.

After midday, they left the highland and followed Crusoe into a tunnel of trees. The twisted branches of the oaks overhead nearly shut out the sun.

Finally, just as Josh was almost ready to fall out of the saddle, Crusoe called a halt. The riders climbed wearily off their horses and began to make camp.

It was then that Josh made a serious error.

He had gone into the woods for firewood. Suddenly a small animal darted in front of him. The animal looked much like a very small deer.

Now's my chance to bring home the first game
, Josh thought. He unslung his bow, cocked an arrow, and for
the first time he sent a barbed shaft through the air at a living thing.

Josh saw the arrow strike the small target. But before he could move, a hideous scream ripped through the forest. It was an unearthly noise that sounded like a woman's shrill, hysterical shriek.

“Look out! Look out!” the horrid voice cried.

Josh wheeled and ran blindly toward the camp. He ran so fast that he bumped into Mat, who fell sprawling.

The dwarf angrily spluttered, “What did you do?”

“Josh!” Crusoe came scurrying up. “Didn't I tell you we must make no noise! Come on, we must leave at once!”

As they scurried back to their mounts, Josh gasped, “What
was
it?”

“A look-out hart,” Crusoe answered. “The Sanhedrin use them as an alarm system. They scream their heads off at anything unusual. After that, the Sanhedrin descend in force.”

They reached the camp and began saddling the horses.

Josh was just thinking how lucky they were that the packs had not been unloaded when the shrill screaming stopped abruptly. Something, or somebody, was lurking at the edge of the camp. Josh glanced wildly around and saw that not one but many figures were standing in a circle around the campsite.

All of the strangers were tall, menacing creatures. Each wore a scarlet robe with a cowl that covered his face. A number in gold set inside a white circle gleamed on each breast. And there was a coldness in the air somehow that gripped Josh's heart like an icy fist. There was a sense of evil that he had never before felt.

Suddenly one of the strangers raised his hand and pointed at Crusoe. When he spoke, it was with a strange hollow tone.

“I am Elmas, Chief Interrogator and Servant of the Sanhedrin. Who are you, and why have you chosen to give up your lives by entering the Forbidden Land?”

Then Crusoe did something that Josh could not believe—he shrank into an even smaller shape, falling to the ground and crying and pleading in a high whine.

“No, Masters! Not the Forbidden Land. We've lost our way!” He began to sniffle and weep piteously. “We— we turned south two days ago so as to miss this place. We've lost our way. Please let us go! We're just poor folk trying to get to the village of Mantila.”

“Quiet!” the hooded Chief Interrogator commanded. He turned his head and looked at each of them. Then his eyes lit on Josh, and he said suddenly, “Who is this one? He does not have the appearance of a Nuworlder.”

Josh felt the burning eyes bore into his. He felt—
invaded
! Something had entered his mind and was beginning to strip him of everything.

He tried desperately to avoid the searcher. Then, as he stood helpless before the power that was beginning to possess him, there came a familiar voice that reminded him of what he must do—“
Be a half-wit
.”

Instantly Josh threw himself to the ground, yelling the most idiotic things that occurred to him. He even frothed at the mouth. He screamed a series of phrases that poured out in meaningless patterns.

After a moment the Chief Interrogator said, “You may be the fools you seem to be, but you will appear at the Tower of Truth in the morning to undergo the Questioning.”

He touched Crusoe on the forehead, and the old man went down as if he had been shot through the brain. The Chief Interrogator wheeled and amid a ghostly silence led the others out of the glen. In an instant, they had all faded into the depths of the forest.

Josh waited until he was certain they were gone. Then he stopped screaming and got up, trembling in every limb.

Crusoe had to be helped to his feet. When his eyes cleared, he said to Josh, “Now you know the power of the enemy!” Then the old man shook off their helping hands. “We must leave now—and ride all night. Quickly! Let us go.”

The next few hours were like a bad dream. Already exhausted, Josh clung to the saddle only by an act of will as the travelers journeyed through the darkness of the forest.

Once they stopped to rest the animals. Only then did Crusoe ask, “Joshua, how did you ever think of using that crazy act? It was all that saved us.”

The others all murmured agreement.

“Well, I…” Josh stammered, then he said defiantly, “A voice told me to do it.” He waited for the hoot of derision, especially from Mat. Yet he saw only nods of agreement and a strange smile on Crusoe's face as they prepared to resume their journey.

Dawn was just turning the early morning skies to red when Crusoe led the group to a small canyon where there was a clear spring. They dismounted and drank deeply. After that, Josh saw Crusoe pull a rope out of his pack, walk to a tree, and sit down with his back to it. “Tie me to this tree,” he said.

Josh watched in amazement as Mat and Tam lashed Crusoe so tightly that the ropes cut into his thin arms.

When he was firmly secured, Crusoe said, “Joshua, I think you should go away for a while.”

“Why?” Josh asked.

“Because what is about to happen will be unpleasant. The Chief Interrogator commanded me to appear at the Tower. I will be forced to go there—
if I can
!” He nodded
at his bonds. “These ropes will hold me until the spell passes.”

Then Crusoe turned to the others. “Remember, no matter what I say or do—don't let me loose,” he sternly instructed. “If you do, we'll all die.”

Even as he spoke, a strange mad look came over his wrinkled face. He began speaking in a voice Josh had never heard before. “You can let me go. I'm all right now,” Crusoe assured them.

He waited, then began to froth at the mouth and scream, fighting against the ropes. “Release me, you idiots! I must go to my masters! Release me at once!”

Josh watched transfixed, completely forgetting Crusoe's instructions to leave. He never forgot the nightmare he viewed. The old man was transformed into a beast that cried and begged, then cursed and blasphemed horribly. The seizure went on and on until he feared that Crusoe would die of convulsions.

Finally the old man slumped and expelled a huge sigh. When he lifted his head, his eyes were clear, and he said, “I am myself. You can release me when you think it wise.”

Josh rushed forward. He drew his knife and cut Crusoe loose.

Tam offered their leader a drink of cool spring water.

Holding Crusoe in the circle of his arms while he drank and slowly recovered, Josh felt a strange sense of kinship with the twisted figure. Tears began to burn in his eyes.

Crusoe smiled through his wrinkles. He feebly patted Josh with a claw. “We are on our way, my boy.”

“But where are we?” Mat murmured gloomily. “Is this the place?”

Crusoe slowly hobbled to his feet with Volka's help. “This is the location indicated by the song, but—sing it again, Josh. Maybe we'll get a better idea of the exact spot.”

Josh sang the well-remembered words:

“
‘Far from ocean tides
yet the Sleeper lies

“
‘Where even sunlight seems to fail
in the belly of the whale.'”

There was a long silence.

Josh said, “I guess we'd better look for a whale.”

“Great!” cried Tam happily. Then he added in a puzzled voice, “What's a whale?”

Josh started to explain, but Crusoe said, “Just spread out and look for anything
unusual
. If you find anything, sing out.”

They separated and searched for several hours, finding nothing. Then Josh heard a whistle. When he finally located the source of the whistle, he also found the others. They were standing by a steel structure that was nearly covered with lichens.

“This must be it.” Volka grinned. “But what
is
it? A water tank maybe?” He struck it with his huge fist, and an echo rang out. “Empty,” the giant commented.

The structure was an oval steel tower rising about ten or twelve feet out of the sand. Try as they might, they could find no door or secret entrance.

“Sure doesn't look like a whale,” Josh muttered. He glanced up and said, “Look at that.”

He ran across the sand to a small mound rising out of the ground about fifty feet away. He cried out, “Hooray! Come and help me!” He began digging at the mound with his sword, sending the sand flying.

“What is it?” they all cried.

“Look!” Josh had uncovered a steel surface, and on it was a faded nameplate. He read aloud the words. “
USS Narwhale
. It's a submarine,” Josh explained. “Named after a whale. That's about as close as you can get to a whale on dry land, I guess.”

“Yes—this
must
be what the song referred to,” Crusoe said excitedly. “It must be an old war monument in a park. Or maybe there was an Oldworld river in this place.”

“Come on,” Josh said. “Let's get inside.” They ran back to the exposed conning tower, and Josh turned to the giant. “Help me up to the top, Volka!” he begged.

The giant seized Josh and set him up on the structure. Then one by one, the others joined Josh as the giant helped them.

“I don't suppose I can get in the door,” Volka said. “I'll keep watch while you're inside.”

The plan sounded good, but they soon discovered that getting inside was not as easy as it looked. The steel hatch seemed to be welded to the deck. Not even Volka could have ripped it off.

They had tried everything they could think of and were beginning to argue bitterly about what to do, when Josh held up his hand. “Wait a minute. Be quiet.”

They watched as Josh strained to hear a far-off voice. Then he said, “I remember something. Something I read in my mother's journal.”

“What was it, Josh?” Crusoe asked quietly.

“Mom said, ‘Sometimes, if everything else fails to solve a problem, you just speak to it. If you want to get rid of unforgiveness, say, ‘Unforgiveness, get out of my heart.'”

“Well, what in the world does that mean?” Mat threw up his hands.

“I think,” Josh said slowly, “that it means just what it says: Speak to
this
thing!”

“Oh, wonderful,” Mat said mockingly. “You can talk to this thing—and I'll talk to the rocks. Tam can chat with the birdies, and—”

“Hush!” Crusoe said. “Do you believe it will happen, Josh?”

Josh said slowly, “I'll believe if you will.”

“You're going to look like an idiot if nothing happens!” Mat warned. “What if you fail?”

Josh didn't answer. He merely took a deep breath and began to sing.

For a ghostly moment, nothing happened. Then, with a rusty groan, the hatch opened.

Relief and surprise washed over Josh. With a gesture to the others, he scrambled down inside. His friends quickly followed.

They found the capsule with ease, but, strangely, indecision seemed to seize Josh even as this part of his quest was ending. Finally, with a nod from Crusoe, he pushed the button and stepped closer for his first glimpse of the waiting sleeper.