Wars of the Aoten
Chapter LIII
A gasp, and Andreia’s eyes snapped open. “Artur!” as she clutched his forearm beside her, and the therium-tusk necklace clattered against her naked breasts as her body lurched.
“What?!” he started up.
“A dream! I was dreaming,” she said, her panic fading, but still her heart raced.
“What about? Did you see something?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember — I dreamed mostly images, feelings.” Andreia sat up and pulled the thylak-pelt cover up to her shoulders. “A great flock of birds flew over still water — the River Alluvia, I guess, but it seemed much bigger. I don’t remember seeing the banks at all. And the birds, every kind and color of bird I can imagine flew there, and they flew so low. Their wings flapped easily, and they bobbed up and down in the air, but didn’t go anywhere; they hung still in the air, and flew just above the lapping of the water. Then one came out of the midst of the flock — a black one, a raven, I expect — and flew straight up into the sun, and I feared for it. I knew it flew toward the heat, the heat of the sun, directly above the land. The raven flew and flew, its wings strong and swift, but before it could reach the sun a terrible wind took hold of it. It was wind, I knew in my dream it was the wind, but it blew like never before. The air whipped like a charging pack of thylak, so great was its strength. I called out, but the bird wouldn’t hear; and the wind captured the raven in its teeth, and the poor bird struggled to fly higher, but it couldn’t. And then it disappeared, gone with no trace, it simply vanished. But the last thing I saw was its eye, an eye full of terror and understanding, and I was frightened and awoke.”
“What does it mean? Does it mean anything?” asked Artur, soothing in his voice.
“I don’t know. I am no longer afraid. I dreamed nothing real, for the waters never spread so broadly, and the wind always blows gently. But we should see what Pepin has to say.”
“Can it wait?” Artur played with the necklace.
“Oh, we can let it wait a little while.”
In time Artur and Andreia found Pepin, helping Theodoric in the daily inspection along the stockade’s exterior. Every morning workers doctored and reinforced the pilings, packing new earth around their footings. Chinks that had formed overnight were filled, and new support beams added, making as solid a barrier as possible in anticipation of the giants’ next onslaught. The Melics stopped their routine to carefully mull Andreia’s dream as she related it again.
“You have paid attention well,” said Pepin. “I have had no insights since arriving here; I think perhaps being away from home has darkened my light. The mind is like a man who collects treasures in his castle, with memories old giving rise to wonders new.”
“Yes,” said Theodoric. “Perhaps so. Do you understand the dream?”
“Visions are not things to be understood like proverbs; they dash and dodge in the imagination, offering explanations that contradict each other, then hide completely,” said Pepin. “Many of us take refuge here, of different kinds and colors, and is not that the Alluvia there? I suspect the clans make up the flock of birds. Then one breaks away and disappears; that could mean a death, or desertion.”
“Do you think?” asked Andreia.
“Well, perhaps. Sometimes the proof of prophecy requires no less than its fulfillment. We will have to wait, but at the same time keep our eyes open. It may yet become apparent. But really it is neither here nor there, for the bird would not hear you.”
“What do you mean, Pepin?”
“Even if we knew the dream’s interpretation, you say the victim would not listen. Sad to say, but not a favorable sign. But perhaps you can also find comfort in knowing the fates have taken the bird beyond your help. Perhaps that’s all it means.”
The group fell awkwardly silent. “How stands the wall today?” asked Artur at length, always preferring the needs of the day over philosophy.
“No weakness that we’ve seen yet,” said Theodoric. “As we wait upon dreams, so also giants. Surely the Aoten will soon prepare another attack.”
“Do you suppose they could have returned to the Raspar city?”
“A possibility,” Theodoric considered it well. “That could be so — their best success has been battering our walls with Raspar stones, and they might have returned for more. Best not to mention the likelihood to Mercedi. Love and anxiety go hand-in-hand when they travel great distances.”
“Right,” said Artur, not knowing what to say, and he waved away a hummingbird.
“Meantime, we will continue to inspect, and make the fortress ever stronger. The Aoten will be upon us, likely much sooner than we’d wish.”
“And the grain remains safe?”
“Safe indeed, Artur, and well camouflaged,” Theodoric smiled. “I have hidden it well, so that you will think twice before snapping me in half. Otherwise, you would never find it.”
Artur playfully pulled on the Melic king’s arm, just to let him know he could twist it off if he wanted, and he and his bride climbed back inside the stockade. Theodoric and Pepin continued their rounds outside. As they passed by the near edge of their wood, they heard a rustling, but at a glance saw it to be only a Bedoua man.
“Careful out there, Krait!” called Theodoric. “Don’t be caught beyond easy reach of a ladder. The sittlebark flowers for a season, but its petals line the nests of the coney and crow alike.”
“True, that,” said Pepin as the Melics moved on.
Krait sneered at them and continued his scheming back in the copse.
“The vizier robes-sss will go to the fattes-ssst,” he said to himself. “The Bedoua will expect that, foolish tradition! Idiots-sss’ tradition! No Bedoua here is-sss fat like Dungo; the true vizier will be one of thos-ssse left in the desert, possibly Mer. But the lancers-sss, the Bedoua force-sss dwells-sss here; I mus-ssst take charge here! The lancers-sss will likely fall behind Sylva, daughter to Dungo. She’s-sss fatter than me anyway. I mus-ssst kill her, too, get her out of the way. That’s-sss bes-ssst! That’s-sss bes-ssst anyway, for she is-sss his-sss brain. I mus-ssst kill her as-sss well. Then I will take the robes-sss; I am not fattes-ssst, but I am high minister.”
Preoccupied, Krait delicately picked his way out of the wood, careful to protect his sandaled feet. “Use-sss up the Rufoux, then the Aoten, then the Raspars-sss,” he mumbled to himself. “Firs-ssst the Rufoux, then the Aoten, then the Raspars-sss.”
Krait returned to the interior of the stockade and again found Vespus. “Vespus-sss, I have made my plan. Its-sss time will come soon, for the full moon is-sss nearly upon us-sss.”
“Lo, I thought ye had no care for the beliefs of your people,” said Vespus, again surrounded by Raspar archers. Krait appeared no more comfortable with this arrangement than he had been the day before.
“I have nothing to do with those-sss superstitions-sss, unless-sss they serve my reality,” Krait hissed back, but so quietly that Vespus nearly could not hear. “The full moon will soon be overhead, and my foolish vizier will be petrified with fright in his-sss dwellings-sss.”
“Aye, so I understand. So ye believe your god will invade the land of the Rufoux?” Vespus spoke in a normal voice, having no reason not to.
“I believe nothing.”
“Nay, nor will Gryphon appear. He does not appear, for evil nor good.”
“That is-sss not my concern. At the full moon the vizier will be trapped inside his-sss hut, with me jus-ssst as-sss certainly. All the Bedoua lancers-sss will seek shelter, cover for their heads-sss during the night. In the dark of the night I will strike, and Dungo will lie dead. I mus-ssst gain Rufoux weapons-sss, to shred his-sss body, for it mus-ssst look like the work of Wolven.”
“Lo, what is it ye say?”
“Wolven is-sss a legend of terrible retribution. The fables-sss tell of vicious-sss reprisals-sss he makes-sss upon Bedoua who are not respectful of his-sss fearsomeness-sss. Let my foolish clansmen believe such tales-sss! I will leave Dungo’s-sss carcass
-sss out like a sheaf of wool, that they may all see, and believe that Wolven has-sss had his-sss revenge on the unfaithful.”
A sea of Raspars sat by, neither hearing nor seeing.
“Lo, will they believe such a thing?”
“They will believe about Dungo, and they will believe as-sss much for themselves-sss. I will teach them well, that Wolven is-sss displeased with them for leaving the deserts-sss. They will believe, and then I will take hold of their wills-sss! They will follow me, for then I will be their only hope to remain safe until we return to our tents-sss. But our journey will be still a month hence-sss, before the nex-ssst full moon, and we will have our way with the Rufoux and the Aoten by that time!”
“Aye, ye propose a good plan. Well ye have done to approach me,” said Vespus.
“Indeed, I mus-ssst approach you, for you mus-ssst help me. I need the Rufoux weapons-sss, but in their loathing they do not trus-ssst me. They look upon me with baleful eyes-sss, and more so the metal smith than the others-sss, for he hates-sss me, The all speak evil behind my back, and my very life is-sss in danger. So you mus-ssst acquire a Rufoux sword, a sharp sword, for me, and hooks-sss to tear and shred flesh.”
Vespus considered his own rag-tag sword. “Lo, I can find some for ye, and perhaps for myself as well. I should be better armed for the battle. The smith surely will have what ye seek.”
“Very well, very well. I will meet with you again, when the moon is-sss ready to burn brightes-ssst. Be sure to acquire the weapons-sss, and we will make good on our pact. Dungo will no longer burden this-sss Earth, and the Bedoua will be out of the clutches-sss of the Rufoux!”
“Lo, but what about the vizier’s daughter? Will she not take rank before ye, and defy ye?”
“Yes-sss, so I have thought. I mus-ssst be the highes-ssst Bedoua official still here, when Dungo is-sss dead, to take power to myself. Dungo never stops-sss talking, and Sylva never speaks-sss anything; and yet she is-sss his-sss real power. Sylva mus-ssst go as-sss well.”
“Lo, so ye also plan to kill Sylva?”
A single Raspar within the crowd raised his head at these words, a Raspar without bow and arrow, and at that moment Rhodan both saw and heard, and understood.