The Rivers of Zadaa

  “The wall is for protection against invasion,” Loor said, reading my mind. “The Batu and Rokador are not the only tribes of Zadaa, but we are the most civilized. There are many tribes in the desert who live like animals and feed on one another.”

  “You mean they steal stuff from each other to survive?” I asked.

  “No, I mean they feed on one another. Many of the tribes of Zadaa…are cannibals.”

  Oh. Nice.

  “The Ghee are trained to protect Xhaxhu, which in turn protects the underground of the Rokador. This wall is our first line of defense. It is also protection against the elements. A windstorm could rise up with no warning and pelt the city with sand for hours.”

  As we trotted through a break in the wall—there was no door—I saw that there were giant sand drifts rising up against the outside of the wall.

  “How often does a storm come up?” I asked.

  “Often enough,” Loor answered. “It can be devastating. I hate to think of how Xhaxhu would handle a storm now, when we are so weak.”

  I briefly wondered if Saint Dane could possibly cook up a storm, but decided that as powerful as this guy was, he did have his limits. I didn’t think he could change the weather. At least, I hoped he couldn’t.

  Loor led us a few hundred yards away from the walled city to another, smaller wall. It wasn’t as tall as the protective wall around Xhaxhu, but it was long. We were at a corner. The wall stretched out for what might have been a mile on either side.

  “This is what I want to show you,” Loor said. “This is one of the farms where food is grown for the people of Xhaxhu.”

  A minute later we trotted through an opening in the wall. What I saw inside made my heart sink. Xhaxhu was a big city, with a lot of mouths to feed. I expected to see rows of crops, like on the agriculture barge of Grallion on the territory of Cloral. Well, I didn’t. All I saw was sand. Lots of it. We walked our horses toward the middle of the field, their hooves kicking it up. The place looked more like an archeological ruin in Egypt than a farm. The emptiness was eerie.

  Loor must have been reading my thoughts, because she said, “The farmers have given up. Without water to irrigate the crops, there is no need to plant, or fertilize, or even to keep back the sand.”

  “Okay, dumb question,” I said. “How important is this farm?”

  “There are seven that feed Xhaxhu. The farmers have diverted what little water is still available to three of them. But the food grown on three farms is not even close to being enough. We are dipping deeply into grain reserves. We do not expect they will last long. Reality is that soon, very soon, we will starve.”

  “I guess that counts as pretty important.”

  That’s when something caught my attention. Several feet in front of us, the sand began to shift. Something was moving beneath it, hidden from sight. A moment later I saw more movement a few feet away. Whatever it was, there were two of them. I glanced at Loor. She didn’t look worried, but Loor never looked worried.

  “What kind of beasties hang out here in the desert?” I asked nervously.

  “You saw the quig-snakes at the gate?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, not liking where this was going.

  “The desert is full of snakes,” she said calmly.

  Snakes. Snakes are the worst. I was about to kick my horse into gear and get the heck out of there, when I heard something behind us. It sounded like a muffled thump. Innocent enough, but since a second ago there was nothing within a hundred yards of us, any sound could mean trouble…especially if there were snakes sneaking around beneath the sand. I whipped a look around, expecting to see a couple of slithering sand snakes about to strike. I was surprised to see that we were no longer alone.

  Standing behind us were two white-robed figures. Their heads were completely covered, as if to protect them from the harsh desert sun. Both stood facing us, with their legs apart, each holding a short metal bar that was no doubt, a weapon. I shot a quick look in front again, to see if the snakes were getting any closer.

  There were no snakes there, either. Instead I saw two more of these robed figures coming up out of the sand like swimmers rising from the water. These guys looked pretty much like the first two. They got to their feet and held out their weapons, ready.

  “Uh,” I said to Loor. “Those aren’t snakes.”

  “No,” Loor said. “They are Rokador.”

  Rokador. The enemy of the Batu. Not good.

  “They look like they know how to use those weapons,” I said.

  “They do,” Loor answered without taking her eyes off them. “They are Tiggen guards. Like the Ghee, they are warriors.”

  Oh. Getting worse by the second. These bad boys lived underground, but decided to come to the surface and spring a trap. On us. We were alone, with no chance of getting any help from the Ghee warriors back in Xhaxhu. Another battle was about to begin, only this time, it looked as if I was going to be in the middle of it.

  JOURNAL #20

  (CONTINUED)

  ZADAA

  Nobody made a move. Not even Loor. I expected her to tense up, grab her wooden stave, and come out swinging. Instead we all stayed frozen in place. The white-robed figures stood silently, the slight wind snapping at their clothes. Eerie. They were in front of us, and behind. The word “surrounded” came to mind.

  “Now what?” I whispered to Loor.

  “Stay here,” she ordered, and slid off her horse. I didn’t know what to think. She wasn’t in attack mode. She didn’t even look tense. I had a brief thought that maybe there had to be some kind of ground rules set before they started beating up on us with their metal batons. All I could do was sit there and see what came next.

  Loor walked boldly up to the two Rokador guys who were directly in front of us. Her weapon was still in its sheath across her back. I figured maybe she was throwing out the white flag, since we were outnumbered and all. But that wasn’t like Loor. She’d sooner go down fighting. What happened next wasn’t like Loor either. She walked up to one of the guys, threw her arms around him, and hugged him.

  Uhhh…

  She said, “It has been far too long, Bokka.”

  The Rokador pulled off his hood to reveal a white-skinned guy who stood a few inches taller than Loor. He didn’t take off his goggles, so I couldn’t get a look at his eyes, but from where I sat, he looked to be our age, maybe a little older, with longish blond hair that whipped around in the wind. I guess I could say he was kind of handsome, too. But I’m no expert in that department.

  “I’ve missed you, Loor,” the guy named Bokka said. He spoke with a deep, authoritative voice that you would expect from a warrior. Though I can’t really say what it was I expected of anybody who lived his whole life underground.

  Loor looked at the guy next to Bokka and said, “Is that you under there, Teek?”

  The guy pulled down his hood to reveal another blond guy who was a little shorter than Bokka.

  “Hello, Loor,” he said with a sheepish smile.

  “Pendragon,” Loor called. “Please come here.”

  I didn’t move. I think I was still trying to process what was happening. I had been expecting a fight, but instead I discovered that these guys were friends of Loor. If that weren’t bizarre enough, Loor had actually hugged the guy named Bokka. Let me write that again, she hugged him. I had never seen Loor that affectionate with anybody. Including me.

  “It is all right, Pendragon,” Loor said. “Please join us.”

  I took a quick glance back at the Rokador behind us. They stood with their weapons ready. They didn’t attack, nor throw off their hoods and join in this warm reunion. They just stood there. Ready. For what, I wasn’t sure. I slid off of my horse and took off my black cloak, dropping it to the sand. I figured these guys should see that I looked like a Rokador. Sort of.

  Loor put her hand on Bokka’s shoulder like he was a bud and said, “Pendragon, this is my oldest friend, Bokka. We have known each other since we were chi
ldren.”

  I held out my hand to shake, which made the three other Tiggen guards tense up and lift their metal weapons, ready to rock. I suddenly got the vibe that these guys were like bodyguards. Even Bokka took a step back. I stood there with my hand in the air like a dope, afraid to move.

  “It is all right,” Loor assured them. “Where Pendragon comes from, that is a sign of friendship.”

  Bokka relaxed, took my hand, and squeezed. Youch! This guy had a grip! But I wasn’t about to squeal. No way.

  “Hello, Pendragon,” Bokka said. “What tribe do you come from?”

  I glanced at Loor, partly because I didn’t have an answer, and partly as a plea to get this guy to let go of my poor hand before bones started snapping. Loor reached out and gently eased us apart. For a second I thought my fingers were fused together. I had to work them to get the circulation back. I wouldn’t let Bokka see that, though.

  “I met Pendragon when I made the journey to the far desert. He is from the tribe known as…as…” Loor was scrambling. Bokka didn’t know about the Travelers. I had to bail her out.

  “Yankees,” I said. “The Yankees tribe.” Hey, what can I say? It was the first thing that came to mind. “It’s a strong tribe,” I added. “Respected by all…except for our mortal enemies, the Sox tribe. They hate us. Especially the Red ones. Cannibals. Nasty characters.”

  “I haven’t heard of these tribes,” Bokka said.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “We haven’t heard of you either.”

  “But you’re dressed as a Rokador,” the guy next to Bokka said. “Why is that?”

  “This is Teek,” Loor said, changing the subject. I’m happy to say he didn’t put out his hand to shake. One bone crusher was enough. “Ask him to show you the scar from when he was bitten by a zhou beast.”

  “Loor!” Teek said, complaining. “Won’t you ever forget that?”

  Bokka laughed. Loor chuckled too, and said, “When we were young, a small ceegee bug crept into his bunk while he was asleep. It nipped him and he jumped up shouting ‘Zhou! Zhou!’ The scar is quite impressive…if you look closely enough.”

  Loor and Bokka chuckled. Teek looked embarrassed, but smiled. “I had been dreaming of a zhou. You would have done the same thing.”

  Teek wasn’t upset. He took the goofing good-naturedly. This was all one big touchy-feely reunion. The whole thing had me off balance. I’m not sure why it struck me as odd at that moment that I could understand these guys and they understood me. Part of the benefit of being a Traveler is that we hear all languages as our own, and others hear us as if we were speaking their language. I guess maybe that still seems like magic. But it always works, so I shouldn’t be surprised anymore. Much.

  Bokka said, “You did not tell us why you are dressed as a Rokador, Pendragon.”

  Loor answered for me. “With his white skin, we decided it would be better for him to dress as a Rokador, in case he ran into fierce Tiggen guards, like you.”

  Bokka nodded. He bought it.

  “You have such light skin,” Teek said. “Do you live underground too?”

  Loor jumped in, trying to get control of the situation before I said something else stupid. She said, “The tribe known as—”

  “Yankees,” I reminded her.

  “Yes, Yankees, lives on the surface in a forest of many trees that block the sun. That is why his skin is lighter than the Batu.”

  “Yes, it’s a forest called the Bronx,” I threw in. Why not? It wasn’t like he was going to prove me wrong.

  “Pendragon is a wise tribe member,” Loor continued. “He has traveled here to help us.”

  Bokka looked me up and down, sizing me up.

  “Can you fight?” he asked.

  “The idea is to try and solve your problems without fighting,” I said.

  “If you can do that,” Bokka said, “then you have more wisdom than anyone around here…from either tribe.”

  I didn’t know how I felt about this guy. I guess I should have been saying that any friend of Loor’s was a friend of mine, but if I were being totally honest, I didn’t like the way they were being so chummy. Loor and I may not have known each other since we were little kids, but we had been through a whole lot together. You would think that facing death while trying to save everything that exists would have brought us a little closer together than two people who played ring-around-the-rosy when they were kids…or whatever it is they play here. Loor treats me like I’m some kind of business partner. That was okay, I didn’t think she had more warmth in her than that…until I saw her with Bokka. She never let her guard down with me like that. And he was a Rokador! An enemy of the Batu!

  “Have you discovered anything?” Loor asked Bokka, changing the subject.

  “Nothing,” he answered. “Except that the Tiggen guards have been put on alert. The Rokador elite are expecting the Batu to attack at any time.”

  “But what of the rivers?” Loor asked. “Has there been any explanation from the Rokador elite?”

  “Same as always,” Bokka answered. “They blame the drought on lack of rain in the north—where the rivers are fed. I have tried my best to find out more, but with no luck.”

  “Uhh,” I interrupted. “What exactly are you talking about?”

  Loor explained, “As you know, the Rokador live underground and control the rivers of Zadaa. For generations they have worked with the Batu, channeling the water between the different rivers to ensure it flows to where it is needed most. It is a valuable service that they provide for the Batu.”

  “But we do more than that,” Bokka added. “The Rokador are manufacturers. In our factories we create clothing and weapons and building materials and most everything needed for our own survival…and for the Batu’s survival as well.”

  “That is true,” Loor said, sounding a little defensive. “In return the Batu grow crops and tend livestock to feed both tribes. We also protect the Rokador from the wild tribes of the desert and the zhou beasts and snakes you’ve seen. Without the Batu, the Rokador would perish.”

  “Without the Rokador, the Batu would live like primitives,” Teek threw in.

  Loor quickly shot back, “We are a warrior race that does not shy from life by cowering beneath the ground.”

  “You’re a crude people with no modern skills,” Bokka said quickly. “Look at your ancient weapon, and look at mine.” He held up his shiny, steel baton. “This is the product of an advanced race of modern thinkers.”

  He and Loor exchanged cold looks. They seemed ready to start throwing fists.

  “Sandworm!” Loor threw at him.

  “Barbarian!” Bokka shot back.

  The two glared at each other intensely, then broke out laughing. I’m serious. Loor actually laughed!

  “We have argued like this since we were young,” Loor said.

  “The truth is,” Bokka said, “both tribes need each other.”

  These guys were having a little bit too much fun. I was feeling like an outsider, but I couldn’t let that get in the way of our mission.

  “So if they need each other so much, why is everybody worried about a war?” I asked.

  “There’s always been tension,” Teek said. “But since the rivers began to run dry, the tension has turned into suspicion, and anger and fear. It has now given way to outright hatred.”

  Loor said, “The Batu are accusing the Rokador of holding back the water until we are so weakened that they will rise up from their underground home and seize control of Xhaxhu.”

  “But why would they do that, if everything was going so well?” I asked.

  “To put it simply, we are running out of space,” Bokka said. “Our way of life is simple. We have always lived below ground. But as our population grows, that is becoming more difficult. The fear among the Rokador is that if we try to venture aboveground, we will be treated as inferiors and forced to live like animals.”

  “They aren’t wrong,” Loor said. “Many Batu would treat the Rokador b
adly. But the royal family of Xhaxhu understands their plight. Our prince, Pelle a Zinj, has made it his goal to convince our people to accept the Rokador as equals.”

  “But not everybody agrees,” I stated.

  “That is correct,” Loor said. “What is the saying you use? It is a no-win situation. Many of the Batu will not accept the Rokador, and now they fear that the Rokador are holding back the water.”

  “In return,” Bokka said, “the Batu have stopped providing us with food from the surface. We are starving.”

  “And we are thirsty,” Loor said.

  “So what’s the deal with the water?” I asked. “Are the Rokador holding it back?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Bokka answered. “I’ve heard rumors that there is something dramatic about to happen, but I cannot find out what it might be.”

  “And with each passing day, the danger of war grows stronger,” Loor said somberly.

  “So, Pendragon of the Yankees,” Bokka said. “Do you still feel as if you can help us prevent this catastrophe?”

  I didn’t like the way he said that. It was all sorts of smug, as if he knew darn well I had no clue of how to keep these two tribes from killing each other. Unfortunately he was right. I didn’t.

  “I’ll get back to you on that,” I said.

  “I am torn, Bokka,” Loor said. “If the Batu are going to attack, I want to warn you. But then it would mean my own people would be at a disadvantage.”

  Bokka took both of Loor’s arms and held her reassuringly. “I understand,” he said. “The only thing we can do is try and stop this from happening. But if it does, I am a Rokador, and you are a Batu. I am a Tiggen, you are a Ghee.”

  They held eye contact. The grim reality was obvious. These two could very well end up having to fight each other. As much as I wasn’t sure about the guy, I wouldn’t want that to happen to Loor.

  “If you hear anything,” Loor said, “please, contact me.”

  “And the same for you,” Bokka said. “Good-bye, Loor. When we meet again, I hope it will be under better conditions…as it was when we were young.”