The Wanderers of the Water-Realm (51 page)

It was still dark when the old scout shook Darryl and his sister into wakefulness.

“Dawn will soon be upon us.” He declared. “We of the Kev must prepare for our departure at once, for we shall begin the return march to our village as soon as there is light enough to see, whilst you three adventurers must continue alone to the land of the Hix in search of your destiny!”

The three Earth-born travellers packed their belongings and breakfasted upon grilled narrsteaks. Soon, the first red streaks of the Water-Realm dawn began to colour the sky and the six Kev scouts said their final goodbyes, then shouldered their packs, took up their weapons and disappeared through the entrance of the mine on the first leg of their homeward march. The remaining trio soon followed but they struck out in the opposite direction towards the mouth of Skeleton Gorge and the lands of the Hix.

At first the going was fairly easy and they were even able to make use of the shade that was provided by the numerous stunted Thoa-trees dotting the bottom of the gorge. Unfortunately, a little before midday, the party ran into yet another of the many areas of difficult scree slope. This served to impede their progress and only about three hours of daylight remained by the time they reached the firm ground lying close to the mouth of the gorge.

Darryl was in the lead and he almost blundered into a small pool of water lying upon the edge of a thicket of Thoa trees. He cast aside his pack and knelt down to taste the water but the giant boat hand restrained him.

“Hold on a moment” He advised. “We no longer have Whiteflower to tell us what is safe to be consumed and what is poisonous. But I still have the magical spoon that your mother gave me when we left our own reality and I can use it to test this water.”

George took the witch’s spoon from his pack and dipped it into the pool then watched carefully in case the talisman turned a warning black, but the spoon remained bright and silvery.

“Sweet as new milk!” The boat hand declared. “Now we can drink our fill with confidence!”

The little group rested for a while and Myra tended the remaining transport narr that was growing weaker and obviously approaching terminal collapse.

Darkness was only two hours away when the expedition resumed its march, but they had only covered a few hundred yards when the young wisewoman’s vision was blanked out by a curtain of blood red mist and she fell screaming to the ground as a wave of totally alien thought penetrated her mind.

“You are soon to die --- Humans.”

It seemed to say with a hint of sadistic mirth.

“We shall come soon and rend your bodies apart and use your flesh for our evening meal.”

The wisewoman lay petrified with fright, upon the hard bare rock and her whole body shook uncontrollably, but Darryl was at her side in a moment and the limited telepathic link existing between the boatmaster and his twin-sister enabled him to instantly grasp the situation.

“The Hix are getting into your mind, lass.” He said, as he cradled the girls head and shoulders in his powerful arms. “Don’t give in to the terror that is flooding your mind, compose yourself and try to thrust a return message into the brain of the creature that’s causing you so much grief!”

Myra shook her head and drawing upon her reserves of mental energy she flung out a message, which she prayed would be received and understood by her psychic tormentor.

“Who are you --- Who threatens me with destruction? Identify yourself without further delay!”

The red mist cleared from the wisewoman’s eyes and she sensed a welter of surprise and confusion emanating from the brain of her adversary and she had ample time to steel herself against the pulse of black hatred that she sensed would follow.

“You are a dark priest --- We will take you alive and chew the flesh from your bones whilst you still live --- We will ---”

Myra easily blocked out the stream of incoming invective and gaining confidence in her mental powers. She framed a message and cast it forth with all her strength.

“Fool --- How could I be a female and also a member of the dark priesthood? My name is Myra Littlewood and I am a seer who was born in the lands that lay beyond the great portal.

I come in peace with only two others to accompany me --- My mission is to mediate an end to the warfare tearing your reality to shreds, as did my honoured ancestor, Rose Littlewood, who visited the lands of the Hix many years before I was born
--- Now tell me if I may advance and also be a guest in your lands?”

Many nerve-wracking moments passed before she received a reply, but now the mental communication was soft and bereft of murderous threats.

“Myra Littlewood --- The Hixian Prime will be informed of your mission and you will received their decision within the space of two darkenings --- Meanwhile, you will make camp in your present location and wait. We will be close by and watching --- To convince you of this we ask you to stand by the pool and view the hillside above you --- I bid you farewell for now, Myra Littlewood.”

The psychic voice died away and the wisewoman with her companions climbed to their feet and carefully examined the crag-side towering above them. At first they saw nothing. Then a huge bulky figure stepped out from behind a boulder lying about a quarter of a mile from where they stood. Another appeared and then more, until at least two hundred spear-carrying Hixian’warriors were to be seen standing on the face of the barren slope. For the space of a full minute, they stood quite motionless and then disappeared from sight in the space of a single heartbeat.

The boatmaster helped his mentally drained sister to regain the shelter of the thicket and brought her a beaker of cool water from the pool.

“Well lass,” he remarked. “There’s nothing more that we can do but bide here and wait to find out what yon creatures have in store for us!”

T
he three travellers set up camp by the side of the pool and spent the following two day’s resting and ministering to their last remaining transport narr that quickly recovered most of its original strength and vitality.

The newcomers, however, remained worried and ill at ease, for they understood perfectly well that their lives now hung in the balance and they could do little more than wait and see what fate held in store for them. Even so, George and the boatmaster took the precaution of keeping their personal weapons close at hand, for they were determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible, should the Hixian’ leadership resolve to order their destruction.

Two darkenings passed and on the morning of the second day the travellers looked out and noticed a single unarmed Hixian’ standing upon the hillside about two hundred paces from their camp. Myra immediately placed her left hand upon her forehead, for she felt a slight disturbance in her brain that she now identified as the precursor of a telepathic communication from a member of the Hix.

“Greetings --- Seer from beyond the portal.”

Said a silky smooth voice within her mind,

“My identifier is Z3*554. I have been instructed by the Hixian Prime --- To allow you entry into our lands and convey you to ‘The Heart of Emerald’. There you will be given an opportunity to fully explain the purpose of your mission ---The Prime however, will not guarantee you a safe return!”

A break occurred in the Hixian’s telepathic communication, but another slight disturbance in the young witch’s brain heralded its immediate re-establishment.

“Turn loose your last surviving pack animal --- You will have no further need of it --- Collect all of your possessions ---We will come for you presently!”

The telepathic communication immediately ceased and Myra quickly repeated the message to her two companions.

“We must do as the Hix command.” The boatmaster said and he immediately stepped over to the tethered transport narr, then he cast lose its halter and sent it leaping down the gorge propelled by sharp slaps upon the rump.

The twins began packing their personal belongings into their shoulder packs together with their remaining food supplies, but George hesitated and looked worried.

“What did that bloody ogre mean when he said the prime would not guarantee our safe return?” He asked.

The wisewoman shook her head.

“It probably means that if the Hix have no liking for our words, they will simply kill us out of hand!”

The boat hand pondered for a moment upon the witch’s words then forced a reluctant smile.

“Well, if I’m to finish up inside the belly of one of them gargoyles, then I hope the ugly bastard dies of the gripes as a result!”

Exactly one Earth hour later, a single Hix appeared from behind a pile of rocks.

The creature slowly advanced towards them and came to a halt only a few feet from where the little group stood and the Littlewood twins took the opportunity of viewing the newcomer at close quarters. The creature closely resembled the two Hixian’ warriors whom they had killed in the City of the Dead. The very same dark pupil-less eyes stared out from the apparition’s triangular shaped head and its massive shoulders were supported by a heavily muscled torso. Most of its body-weight was carried by a pair of legs that could have been fashioned from the trunks of small Thoa-trees and the creature’s entire body was covered by the same hairless dark blue skin. The boatmaster noticed one striking difference, this Hixian’ warrior possessed only one single multi-jointed arm and a small rudimentary stump was all that hung from the creature’s right shoulder.

Once again, Myra experienced the same mental disturbance that preceded the last telepathic communication.

“It is --- Z3*554 --- Who stands before you --- I am able to speak a little of the tongue, which is mouth-spoken by most of the humans who dwell in the Water-Realm --- I am willing to communicate in this manner if it will bring better understanding to your two companions whose mind powers are small!”

Myra concentrated her mental energies and dispatched her reply.

“Yes --- Z3*554 --- Mouth speak would serve us best!”

The Hixan’opened its cavernous mouth and began speaking in a high pitched squeaky voice that seemed almost laughably incongruous coming from the throat of such a monstrous apparition.

“I give you my greetings -- You who cannot mind-speak.

Your means of conveyance will arrive in a moment and you will reach ‘Heart of Emerald’ after an overland journey that will take exactly two and twenty darkenings. We know that you possess only limited reserves of food and water but we shall supply all of your needs once your stocks are exhausted -- I cannot guarantee that your journey will be pleasurable to you, but you will reach the ‘Heart of Emerald’ unharmed!”

Z3*554 had hardly finished speaking when a dozen other Hixian’s appeared from over the brow of the hill bearing three improvised litters. Each litter was borne by two of their number, whilst two more relief bearers trotted alongside each of the conveyances. The group halted alongside the three travellers, who were each invited to embark upon one of the litters and make themselves as comfortable as possible upon a layer of freshly picked moss covering the base of the crude conveyances. The white-skinned humans did as they were bidden and the strange column began advancing towards the northern mouth of Skeleton Gorge.

The multi-jointed arms of the bearers, together with their massively strong legs, enabled the litters to be carried forward at a steady rate. Even so, it proved to be a far from gentle ride for the occupants, who were often thrown violently around as their Hixian’porters negotiated the difficult terrain. Indeed, the newcomer’s were frequently forced to hang on to the sides of the litters to avoid being catapulted out of their conveyances and onto the hard rocky ground over which they travelled.

On one occasion, George’s shoulder pack was flung out of the litter and was returned by one of the Hixian’s, who unceremoniously thrust it back into the giant boat hands arms, accompanied by a stream of irate squeals carrying the undoubted suggestion that he should take better care of his property.

Darkness was fast approaching by the time the column won clear of Skeleton Gorge and Z3*554 gave orders for the expedition to halt and make camp for the night upon what appeared to be the edge of the Hixian’ wastelands. Nearby, grew a clump of low shrubs covered with silver-red leaves, which the Hixians’ began to devour ravenously, thrusting both leaves and twigs into their cavernous mouths. The newcomers watched in amazement as this crude food source was masticated into a digestible pulp and swallowed by the massive creatures. Within minutes, the Hix has sated their huge appetites and were soon fast asleep, with the exception of a pair of sentries, who stood guard with their long spears held at the ready.

Darryl managed to force a laugh.

“Yon creatures would be the perfect draught animals for drawin’ barges along the Lancashire canals.” He observed, as he gathered an armful of twigs to fuel the travellers cooking fire.

“Aye, and cost nothing to feed.” The boat hand added. “Just turn em’ loose at the end of the day near some thicket and let em’ fend for themselves!”

The young witch was far from amused by the men’s comments, as she sprinkled fragments of dried narr’s flesh into the stew that she was preparing.

“How dreadfully shallow you both are. You suppose these Hix to be no more than primitive animals, but you are quite wrong!”

She paused and began stirring the soup with a wooden spoon, as she did so she gave the two men a long look containing more than a hint of sadness.

“How much you non-telepaths miss with your limited faculties.” She remarked.

“You cannot hear the song our Hixian’bearers were singing as they carried us out of Skeleton Pass. Nor can you listen to the improvised poetry they recite to each other as they march. Our guide, Z3*554, is a telepath of considerable power and he is able to communicate with his kind across the vast wastelands occupied by these people. I know the letter ‘Z’that prefixes his identifier, is only given to telepath’s of the highest order, this he told me by mind-speak.”

“Aye sister,” The boatmaster replied. “Small minded and weak is what we now are, George and me, and the weapons lying in our packs have been rendered as worthless as toys. For the success or failure of this expedition and our very lives, now depends upon your great intellect and formidable witch-powers. Yet situations can change and a time may well come when the cold steel, wielded by two simple boatmen, may once again prove to be our only salvation.”

The wisewoman gently placed a hand upon her brother’s shoulder.

“Forgive me Darryl?” She said. “I should not have spoken to you as I did. I have a deep love and a great regard for you both, but the new knowledge that is swamping my brain is hard to digest. I must try to inform you of everything that I learn by the practice of mind-speak for there must be no secrets between us; for dangerous hidden knowledge might well fester like a sore and harm our close relationship.”

She gave the boiling stew one last stir and ladled the steaming brew into three wooden bowls.

“We must eat and then gain all the sleep we possibly can,” she said, “For the Hix have informed me that we have many long miles to cover in the course of the coming morrow!”

The three travellers slept soundly upon the beds of soft moss cushioning their litters and were roused a little before first light by their monstrous guards, who simply nudged the sides of their impromptu beds, with their feet, until they were sure their human charges where fully awake. They breakfasted upon strips of dried narr’s flesh and draughts of cool water and had hardly completed their brief meal, when Myra received a telepathic message from Z3*554, telling them to board their litters for the day’s march was about to begin.

The Hixian’bearers took up the litters and carefully picked their way across the final stretch of mountainous territory, but once the creatures felt the soft moss of the plain beneath their feet, they immediately fell into a shambling trot that consumed the miles as the expedition advanced into the vast and undulating ‘Wastelands of the Hix’.

The hours passed and the five suns reached their zenith in the crimson sky, but the bearers hardly slackened their pace for a second, save for a few moments when they paused to allow a new shift of bearers to grasp the poles of the litters.

Dusk was beginning to fall and the jagged hills of the Kev were but a faint line upon the southern horizon when the Hix suddenly halted for the night close to a large thicket of shrubs and, once again, the creatures began dining upon a surfeit of silver-red leaves.

The travellers climbed out of their litters and began gratefully exercising their cramped limbs. A few minutes later Z3*554 joined them and informed them that the march would be resumed at first light on the following morning. He also led them to a tiny spring of sweet water that welled up from the ground in the densest part of the thicket and he advised them to fill their water containers to the brim, for no drinkable water was to be found during the next four days of hard marching.

The leader of their escort then departed, leaving the trio to prepare their evening meal and get as much rest as possible before the march was resumed with the coming of dawn.