The Merchant of Death (12 page)

“So the Milago guys still do all the work and the Bedoowan guys do . . . what?”

“That is a good question. The Bedoowan are ruled by a royal family, with the role of monarch passed down to the eldest child. There was a time, not too long ago, that the Bedoowan monarch wanted to break down the barriers between the two tribes and allow them to become one. But he died and left the monarchy to his firstborn. There are some who believe that the father was murdered by those who did not want the Bedoowan to give up their superior position.”

“And let me guess: The new monarch likes having slaves and wants to keep the two tribes apart,” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “The Milago are afraid to even say the name . . . Kagan.”

There was that name again. I was beginning to get the picture, and I didn't like it.

“The knights who attacked Uncle Press thought he was spying on Kagan,” I said. “But Uncle Press pretended that he was a miner. Are there mines here?”

“Yes,” she said with a sad breath. “That is the worst part of the story.”

Oh great, it gets worse. Just what I wanted to hear. But before Osa could continue, I heard the sound of a far-off drum. It was a steady, booming sound that came from the direction of the Milago village.

Loor ran up to us and said breathlessly, “It is the Transfer. Hurry.” She took off, running back the way we came.

Osa looked at me and said with concern, “Stay close to me. Do not let them see you.” With that she took off after Loor.

As I told you, these two were athletes. But I didn't care
how fast they were, I was going to keep up with them. I caught up and kept right on Osa's tail as we beat feet along the path back to the Milago village. Good thing it was only about a half mile away, or I would have bonked for sure.

As we approached the village, I saw that everyone was gathering toward the central area with the stage in the middle. I guessed there was going to be a show after all. People came in from the fields, emptied from their huts, and generally left whatever they were doing to crowd around the platform.

I was all set to join the crowd when Osa grabbed my hand and pulled me in another direction. The three of us climbed on top of one of the stone huts and positioned ourselves on the roof so we could get a good view of the show.

“They must not see us,” cautioned Osa. “We are not a part of this.”

Whatever. No biggie. We had the best view in the house anyway. So I settled in and wondered what the performance was going to be. Maybe some Milago musicians, or some school play thing.

I looked out on the meeting ground, and saw the Milago villagers gathered in a wide circle around the central platform, which wasn't empty anymore. On top of it was some kind of contraption that looked like a seesaw. On one end was a seat, on the other was a big, wide-mouthed basket. Standing on the platform next to the gizmo was one of Kagan's knights, beating on a drum. I hoped the purpose of this guy was to signal for everyone to gather, because if this was the whole show, I wasn't impressed. The deep booming sound echoed across the village. His rhythm was pretty lousy too. Standing next to the platform were six more knights. They stood at attention, each holding a nasty-looking spear in front of them. The Milago villagers gave these guys a wide
berth. I would have too. They didn't look friendly.

It started to dawn on me that none of these people looked as if they were getting ready for a good time. There wasn't an excited air of anticipation that comes before a fun event. No one spoke, or laughed or joked. Except for the booming drum, it was deathly quiet. These people all had a look of dread on their faces.

Osa then tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the far side of the clearing. I looked to see a group of four Milago villagers walking slowly toward the assembly. They were all men who were covered with dirt from head to toe. Not that any of these Milago people were all that clean to begin with, but these guys were pretty gnarly. The black dirt really stood out boldly against their pasty-white skin. The four men were carrying a large basket filled with craggy rocks of all sizes. Some were as large as bowling balls, others were much smaller. But the thing that really stood out about them was that they were blue. And I mean bright blue, like dazzling sapphires. I had never seen anything so stunning.

“The stones are called ‘glaze,'” whispered Osa. “There are mines throughout this area. The Milago mine for glaze day and night.”

“I guess it's valuable,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Very,” she answered. “Glaze is the foremost reason why Kagan wants to keep control over the Milago. Glaze has made the Bedoowan wealthy. They trade with merchants from all of Denduron. So long as the Milago mine for glaze, Kagan remains a powerful monarch.”

So Kagan and the Bedoowan weren't only lazy bullies, they were greedy bullies who forced the Milago to do their dirty work. Nice guys. I wanted to ask more questions, but suddenly the drummer stopped pounding and an ominous
silence fell over the village. The four miners brought the basket of glaze to the platform and carefully placed it down. The whole thing was starting to take on the air of a ceremony. The Transfer is what Loor called it.

That's when I heard the sound of a galloping horse. Someone was coming straight down the path where we had walked out to the ocean, and he was coming fast. The weird thing was, nobody turned to look. Nobody but me, that is.

As the horse came charging out of the forest, I saw that riding it was a guy who looked like he knew what he was doing. He was a big guy, with long dark hair, wearing some kind of leather armor similar to what the knights had on, but his armor didn't look like it had seen many battles. It was clean and unscarred, unlike the knights' armor, which looked pretty beaten up. As he galloped up to the circle of villagers, they parted to give him access to the platform. Good thing too, because he didn't slow down. I think if the people hadn't moved, he would have plowed over them. Already I didn't like this guy.

“Is that Kagan?” I whispered.

Osa and Loor exchanged secret looks, like there was something going on that they didn't want to tell me about. I caught the look and I didn't like it.

“His name is Mallos,” answered Osa. “He is Kagan's chief advisor.”

Mallos, Kagan, Osa, Loor, Figgis . . . was I the only guy around here who had a first and a last name? This Mallos guy rode his horse right up to the platform and stopped. My guess was the show was about to begin. He sat there on his horse and surveyed the assembled crowd like he owned them. None of the Milago returned his look. They all stood with their heads down, avoiding his gaze. It didn't take a genius to figure out
that they were afraid of him. Mallos then turned in his saddle and looked right up to where we were hiding on the roof.

“Stay down!” ordered Loor with a strong whisper.

We all ducked down further, trying to press ourselves into the roof to make ourselves smaller. But I could still see Mallos. As his horse kicked at the dirt, he sat there stock still, looking toward us. It was like he knew we were there. But that was impossible. There was no way he could have seen us.

That's when it happened. As I looked back at him, I was hit with a realization so shocking that it made me gasp in surprise. I think the thing that tipped it were his eyes. As far away as he was, I knew those cold blue eyes. How could I forget?

Osa and Loor both sensed my surprise and looked at me questioningly.

“Saint Dane,” I said softly.

“You know him?” whispered Loor with total shock.

“Yeah, he tried to kill me back on Earth just before I got flumed here,” I said. I couldn't believe those words had just come out of my mouth. There was a lot going on in that one little sentence. It would have sounded like fantasy about twenty-four hours ago, but right now it made all too much sense. Osa and Loor exchanged concerned looks again.

Then Loor whispered to me, “He followed you to Second Earth?” She said this as if it were an amazing thing to have happened. I shrugged and nodded a silent “yes.” It was the first time she looked at me with something other than total disdain. Up until now, she acted as if I were less important than the dirt on her boots. But now her look was one of, well, curiosity. Maybe the fact that I survived an encounter with Saint Dane proved that I wasn't so soft after all. Of course I wasn't about to tell her that all I did was run for my life. I wasn't an idiot.

Looking down at Saint Dane, or Mallos, or whatever he called himself, I got hit with a strong wave of “I want to go home.” But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. I was stuck here looking at a guy who had tried to kill me. Could he see me? Was he going to kick that horse into gear and come charging toward the hut? We'd be trapped up here on the roof. All I could do was hold my breath.

It felt like a lifetime, but Saint Dane finally turned away. I could breathe again. With a wave of his hand he said sharply, “Begin!”

Whoa. He spoke English. Did that mean he knew English, or that he too was a Traveler and that's why I could understand him? That question would have to wait, for the main event finally began. One of the miners who had carried in the basket of glaze stepped forward. He was a big guy and something about the way he carried himself told me he was in charge. Whatever was about to happen, this guy didn't seem too happy about it. Every move he made was stiff and forced, as if the pressure of doing what he had to do was physically painful.

“That is Rellin,” whispered Osa. “He is the chief miner.”

Guess I nailed that one. Of course, he was another one-name guy.

Rellin stepped up onto the platform and turned to the crowd. He then held out his hand and gestured to someone. The crowd parted and a man stepped forward to join him on the platform. He was a tall skinny guy, which I point out only because of what happened next. The skinny guy walked over to the seesaw thing and sat down on the end with the seat. Since there was no weight on the other side, he tipped his end down to the floor of the platform. Rellin gestured to the other miners and the three guys lugged the basket of glaze up onto the platform, placing it near the opposite end
of the seesaw. What were they going to do? Measure the guy's weight in glaze?

“They make a Transfer every day”, explained Osa. “Mallos chooses one of the Milago, and that determines how much glaze they must mine for Kagan the next day.”

I was right. Measuring the guy's weight in glaze was exactly what they were going to do. The big seesaw was a scale. The miners reached into the basket of glaze and were about to pick up the first few stones to begin the process when Saint Dane barked, “No!”

The miners stopped. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Saint Dane's next move. Saint Dane surveyed the crowd, then pointed.

“Him,” he said with no emotion.

There was a general rumbling of discontent within the crowd. Two of the knights pushed roughly past a few of the villagers and grabbed the man Saint Dane had pointed to. He was a much bigger man than the first guy. The rules had just changed, and Rellin didn't like it.

“Mallos ca!” he shouted. He was ticked and started yelling angrily at Saint Dane. I won't write the words as I heard them because, as you know, his language made no sense to me. I'll just tell you the translation that Osa gave me.

“Mallos has chosen a different subject for the Transfer and Rellin is telling him that it is not fair,” Osa explained, though I pretty much figured that out on my own. “He is pleading with Mallos to use the choice he made yesterday.”

I could see why. This new guy was much heavier than the original guy. If they had mined enough of the glaze to balance with the first guy, there was no way they'd have enough to balance with the second guy. Rellin begged Saint Dane for fairness. Saint Dane didn't flinch. He looked at Rellin like he
was a bug. Then one of the knights stepped up to Rellin and slapped him on the side of the face with his spear. Rellin spun around and I could see the fiery anger in his eyes. He was already bleeding from the smack on his cheek. I could tell he was a breath away from leaping at the knight's throat. But he didn't. That was smart because the other knights were standing right there, ready with their weapons. He would have been hammered.

“Look at me, Rellin,” commanded Saint Dane.

Rellin looked up at his enemy on the horse.

“Being a loyal subject, you should want to do more for Kagan than is expected of you,” Saint Dane said with an arrogance that even made
my
blood boil. “Are you telling me that you are doing the least amount of work that is necessary?”

Rellin answered with a seething yet controlled tirade that Osa translated for me.

“He is arguing that mining glaze is difficult and dangerous. Every ounce they pull from the mines comes at a huge cost. He says they mine as much as they possibly can.”

Saint Dane snickered and said, “We will see.”

He then gestured to the knights. One of them jumped up onto the platform, grabbed the skinny guy who was sitting on the end of the seesaw and pushed him off the platform. Then the other two knights dragged the heavyset guy up onto the platform and jammed him down into the seat. This guy was scared. He looked to Rellin with pleading eyes, but there was nothing Rellin could do.

“Now,” said Saint Dane. “You may begin.”

The miners looked to Rellin, who gave them a slight nod. They had no choice, so they went to work taking the glaze from their basket and putting the stones on the opposite end of the seesaw.

“What happens if they don't make the weight?” I asked Osa.

“Let us hope you do not have to find out,” came her ominous answer.

The miners quickly placed the glaze stones on the scale, starting with the larger ones and working their way down to marble-sized ones. The villagers' eyes were all focused on the scale. My guess is that no one was breathing. I know I wasn't. When the miners were about halfway through, the seesaw began to move. Ever so slowly, the heavy man on the opposite end of the scale began to rise. As soon as he felt himself move, a look of relief came over his face. Maybe there would be enough glaze stones to balance him after all. With renewed hope the miners continued to pile the stones on the scale. Slowly the scale moved and the heavyset man rose into the air.