The Seventh Mountain (25 page)

Gerod was just putting a couple of pieces of
wood on Tim’s fire.

“Hi, Gerod. Where’s Tim?”

“Hi, Mark. He’s getting ready for the air
show. He asked me to keep a check on his fire. He’ll do the same
for me when it’s my turn.”

“He’s in the air show?”

“Yeah, hot air balloon. I thought you
knew.”

“Nah. I didn’t know. You have a hot air
balloon, too?”

“No, I fly a MIG.”

“They’ve got jets here!”

“Well, yeah. It wouldn’t be much of an air
show without jets, would it?”

“Wow! I didn’t know.”

“We fly on Thursday.”

Mark remembered why he was looking for Tim.
“Where’s Tim now?”

“He’s at the airfield, getting his balloon
ready.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you later.”

Mark left and continued his quest.
One of
the venders here has to have a rose.

Later that afternoon, for the last event,
bright balloons drifted overhead. Mark kicked back and watched. He
used his binoculars to look at their occupants. He found Tim. He
was in the tennis shoe shaped one. It was just like the one in
Albuquerque. A sudden realization dawned on him; it was Tim in
Albuquerque.

 
* *
* 

Mr. Quinn walked into Ms. Vanmie’s tent.

“Hello, Joramina. I have a gift for
you.”

“For me?”

“Yes ma’am, just for you.” He held up the
rose. “Would you like me to pin it on you?”

“Please.”

Mr. Quinn pinned the pink rose to her tunic.
Ms. Vanmie said, “That’s awfully nice of you.”

“Oh, it’s not from me. It’s from that new
kid, what’s his name? You know... the one with the staff.”

“MARK YOUNG!”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

 
* *
* 

The last day of Tent Fest arrived. The
myriad of events and activities had tired everyone. This day was
for rest and relaxation and was gladly welcomed. This was
especially true for the teams that would compete in tomorrow’s
flags match. This was also a good day to ask Ms. Vanmie for a
target.

“You actually tagged Ms. Vanmie. That’s way
cool!” Nick had just heard the news.

“I had to. She missed me twice, on purpose,
I think.”

“Why would she miss on purpose?”

“I think that she was just playing with me.
You know, like rubbing it in. She could get me anytime that she
wanted.”

Jamal was warming his hands by the fire.
“How did you come up with giving her a rose?”

“Well, my dad says that the best way to win
a fight is to not fight. You have to give your enemy something else
to think about. He says, but if you have to fight, get somebody
else to fight for you.”

Chenoa said, “Why would you want to play
that stupid game anyway?”

“It’s kind of personal.”

“Oh, come on. You can tell us.”

“Well, I didn’t want to play the game
because of the game. You see, Tim has been really good to us. He
plays the game. I think that a target can be stalked by only one
person at a time. If I’m stalking Tim, nobody else can.”

“You’re giving Tim a break.”

“Not yet. I haven’t been assigned him,
yet.”

“Why not?”

“I wanted to give Ms. Vanmie enough time to
chill out. Tim is the only other person that has ever tagged her,
ever.”

Chenoa said, “Let’s go see her. She can’t be
all that upset.”

Ms. Vanmie was in her tent, packing her
wares.

“Congratulations, Young Magi. That was
downright sneaky.”

“Yes ma’am. I had to do something. You were
just taunting me.”

“Yes, quite right. I won’t underestimate you
again.”

“Yes ma’am. Can I get an assignment?”

“How many points would you like to try
for?”

“I’d like to go after Tim.”

“That’s not how the game works. You pick how
many points you want to go for. I assign the target. I give you a
picture, not a name.”

“Okay. I want to go for the highest number
of points possible.”

Ms. Vanmie picked up a large notebook from
her table. She thumbed through it until she found what she was
looking for. “Here you go.”

Mark looked at the picture. “That’s Tim.
Thank you. You can keep the picture.”

“Are you sure? You don’t know everyone here.
There might be someone else that looks like him. If you tag the
wrong target, you lose the points.”

“Yes ma’am. I’m sure.”

“As you wish. Yellow, that’s his favorite
color. Tag him with yellow.”

“Can I see my picture?”

“Sure…” She smiled. “When I get it
back.”

For some, the future is told.

Saturday brought the first flags match of
the school year. It was eleven thirty when Mark’s family found him
in The Oasis. There was barely enough time to make it to the stands
before the game started. The families of his three friends had met
them earlier. They were already heading to the stands.

Mark’s mom, Shirley was grinning, and tears
of happiness trickled down her cheeks. She held out her arms to
embrace him. “Oh honey, I’ve been so worried about you.” It was the
first time that Mark had seen his family since he had arrived at
the school.

He hugged his mom and said, “Hi, Mom. Hi,
Dad. Hi, James. The game is about to start. We need to get up to
the bleachers.”

“Okay, son. Lead the way.” Mark noticed a
little nervousness in his dad. That was strange. He had never known
his dad to be nervous about anything before.

On the way to the stands, Mark told his
family everything that he knew about the school. He was repeating
everything that he had put into his letters, but this was
different. It was face-to-face. That made things more real.

They made it to the bleachers in time. The
call of “Noon,” signaling game start time, was approaching. The
four teams of players stood mounted, ready, awaiting the first
flag. The replacement mounts pranced anxiously in their corrals on
either side of The Island.

The tribes of Onyx, Jasper, Ruby and Topaz
would compete today. Each team wore solid color tunics according to
their tribe colors; black for Onyx, orange for Jasper, red for Ruby
and yellow for Topaz.

The Island was guarded by some sort of
canine animals. Mark later learned that they were jackals. It was
to be the first flags match that he had ever seen.

The announcer said, “Folks, just a reminder,
the stands move to follow the action. For those of you who have
never been here before, well, it can startle you if you don’t know
what to expect.”

An amplified female voice sounded next. “Hi
folks, I’m Krisa, Captain of the Emerald Tribe’s flags team. For
those of you who have never seen a flags match before, I’m going to
explain a little about the game.”

“Flags has been played since before recorded
history began. The rules have been changed a little since then.
Now, it is no longer permissible to kill an opponent. It used to be
okay, in ages past, because flags started as a battle training
exercise.”

“Also, remanifesting is not allowed, as it
gives an unfair advantage to those who have that ability.”

“The object of the game is to get as many
flags to your home base as possible, and to keep them there. Each
flag increases in value by one point for every one that is launched
onto the field. The field is the entire school grounds that you see
before you.”

“Only twelve riders, per tribe, are allowed
to go after the flag in play at any given time. A team can have as
many foot players as they can muster.”

“The game is played from solar noon to
sunset, except for finals, which are played from sunrise to sunset.
I hope you enjoy the game.”

A few minutes later, Charlie Goodfellow gave
the shout that signaled solar noon, exactly. The flag was launched,
by ballista, high into the air. The one point flag sailed through
the air and stuck into the sandy soil on the playing field.

There was an amplified cry from the
announcer. “They’re Off… Ruby takes a narrow lead. Judd Jenkins is
out in front. Cynthia Dover for Onyx is hot on his heels.”

It was like watching a horse race with no
starting gate. A red clad rider took the lead. His cloak was
flapping behind him like a cape.

The bleachers started rotating so that the
spectators could follow the action. Shirley said, “Whoa, they
weren’t kidding.”

“Jenkins is still leading the pack… The pack
is coming up on the flag… It’s going to be close… too close to say
yet… and yes, Jenkins has the flag.” The Ruby Tribe was on their
feet, roaring.

It was hard to make out what was going on.
The jumble of horses kicked up a lot of dust, but the announcer’s
voice told the spectators what to look for.

“The pack has him boxed in. Is he going to
pass or fight? There’s the flag. It’s up. It looks like he’s going
to pass. The pack is breaking up… and… Oh! He’s down. Unhorsed,
good move by David Adams. – Does he still have the flag? – Yes! –
He’s still got the flag. He’s being swarmed. The flag is up… and
there it goes. It looks like it’s intended for Jessica Savage.
She’s going for it. – She has it! It’s a race to the corral.”

A rider in red easily had six lengths on the
pack starting out. The head start was narrowed to just less than a
length when she made it to the corral.

“She has a pretty good lead. – The pack is
closing in – It looks like she’s going to make it. – She makes the
handoff. There it is! One point for Ruby Tribe.”

Mark watched the players change mounts.
Their next horses were already saddled and waiting to go. The
number two flag was launched.

“They’re off! – Onyx is taking an early
lead. Daniel Kaufman is giving it all he is worth. – Spiegel is
closing in for Ruby. Spiegel has caught him. They’re neck and neck,
going for the flag.”

The yellow riders stopped halfway to the
flag and formed a line with the horses about ten yards apart.

“Topaz team is holding back – they’re
setting up a defensive line. Kaufman has the flag. He’s not
stopping. Folks, it looks like he is going all the way around.
Spiegel is closing the gap.”

The yellow and the orange riders started
heading around the school, the other way.

“Jasper and Topaz are heading the other way
to head him off.”

The yellow and orange teams made it at least
a quarter mile past the stables, going the other way, before they
stopped.

“Wait – he’s turning around. Topaz and
Jasper are too far away to defend. It’s one on one now as Onyx and
Ruby battle it out”

The red and black teams came together in a
muddle, not too far from where the flag had landed. Ruby was
engaging them. They were the only team close enough to prevent
their rider from scoring.

The rider with the flag threw it straight
into the rumble and began riding around it.

“The flag is in the air. There it goes… to
Paula Williams. If she’s going to score, she needs to get out of
there. – It looks like she’s hemmed in.”

The lone black rider had no sooner reached
the other side of the pack when the flag was back in the air.

“No… wait… the flag’s in the air– Kaufman
has it again. It looks like he made it to the other side of the
pack while everyone was watching the clash. Good move, Kaufman.
You’ve got to wonder if his horse has enough steam left to make it
back or if Onyx can tie Ruby up long enough to keep them away from
Kaufman.”

The yellow and orange teams were in a full
out gallop back to the ruckus.

“Topaz and Jasper have caught on to what has
been happening. They’re on their way back. If Kaufman isn’t fast
enough, I don’t think he is going to be able to get past them.”

The yellow and orange teams were about two
seconds too late to engage the lone rider before he made it back to
the corral.

“Looks like he’s going to make it. He made
it. There’s the hand off. Two points Onyx.”

“Oh my, look folks, it’s an early play for
the bonus flag… Who’s that scaling the pillar for Ruby?”

There was a momentary pause. Obviously the
announcer had to do some consulting to find the names of the
players going for the bonus flag.

“Slone Voif, Ricky Barns and Keith
Richards.”

They were using ropes to climb the outside
of the stone structure around the moat.

“It’s an attempt at a classic deception… It
looks like Barns and Richards are going to try and lure the jackals
to them while Voif goes for the flag… It’s not going to work, boys.
Jackals are smarter than that…”

The pack of more than three-dozen jackals
bounded up the ramps leading to the inner ring. Half went toward
the two boys who were together. The other half went toward the
single boy.

“Half the pack has spotted Voif… Barns and
Richards are surrounded… There they go, over the side and in the
water! What a splash! Better get out of there quick, guys.
Leviathan is gonna get ya… Voif is heading back down the rope.
Sorry, boys. Better try something different, next time.”

“Back on the field… Ruby has the flag…”

Mark watched every play with keen interest.
He noted the strategies and feints. He savored every detail of the
match.

The sun was sinking low and a flock of
starlings began their evening flight to roost. You could always
tell a flock of starling from most other birds. Starlings formed a
flock fifty to one hundred feet wide and sometimes as much as a
mile long, looking like a huge cloud of birds flying in tight
formation when they passed over.

Thirty-five flags had been played when
Charlie Goodfellow signaled sunset. The match was over. The Ruby
Tribe had won with a score of two hundred and four points. No one
had managed to get the bonus flag.

Mark stood up and faced his dad. “You guys
hungry? Maybe Tim will let you stay for dinner.” Tim was supposed
to take them back home right after the game.