Legends of Garaaga Page 6

  Where else might Alexander send messengers? Egypt? Macedonia? Nerutal shook his head. Nowhere would be safe. Fleeing from civilization altogether was the only safe course. "Death would be better," he whispered.

  "Sir?"

  Nerutal didn't bother opening his eyes. "Yes, Acquila?"

  "I have four fish."

  "You have done well. If Darian hasn't stoked the fire, explain to him my displeasure."

  "Aye, sir," the scout chuckled.

  Darian would have started the fire the moment Acquila headed for the river bank. The old scout knew the routine. Nerutal didn't have to tell any of the men his expectations--they knew what to do.

  Another swim? Wash clothes? Or sit here and ponder until morning meal?

  Nerutal opened his eyes and stared upstream. The sun was higher, brighter, and shimmering in the humid morning air.

  Swim, he thought. He turned to climb off the boulder and stopped. There was a gap in the tree line. The forest floor was clear of ferns and other night plants. "A path?" Nerutal asked himself. He blocked the sun from his cheek and allowed his eyes to adjust.

  Yes, a path. The tree canopies were dense enough to make it look like a cave entrance. They hadn't seen a bear-sign since leaving the mountains, but the claw marks on the boulder, the well-worn path through the trees... He looked down at the boulder and traced the grooves. No bear could do that.

  Nerutal dropped from the boulder and back into the water. He walked across stones and the silty river bottom and into the deeper part of the river. He submerged and swam upstream. Fish jumped and moved around him. Each stroke wakened his muscles and cleared sleep from his mind.

  Another day of marching to look forward to. Another day of trying to keep Ellistan alive. Another day of fighting mosquitos and the intense heat. Another day...

  He ceased swimming and headed for the bank. Already he could smell the fish cooking on the fire. Belly rumbling, Nerutal walked to his pile of clothes and carried them into the camp.

  Ellistan sat by the fire, warming himself. One look at his feverish face told Nerutal his condition was the same as last night, if not worse. Acquila was cleaning the last of the fish on a nearby rock while Darian minded the spits.

  "We have a little mission ahead of us, scouts," Nerutal said. The three soldiers looked at him. He smiled. "We're going to stave off a long walk today and do a little exploring."

  Darian clucked his tongue. "Maybe catch some fresh meat?"

  "Aye," Acquila said. "A little tired of fish myself."

  "Perhaps Ellistan can stay behind and mind the gear for us."

  Ellistan laughed and then broke into a cough. "You mean I can rest for the day."

  "That too," Nerutal said. He clapped a hand on the scout's shoulder. "You need it far more than the rest of us."

  "Then you better bring back a damned boar for me to eat," Ellistan said.

  "If there's one to find, I'll bring it back to you, head and all," Acquila said and tossed the last fish to Darian.

  The forest canopy was extremely dense. The path he discovered near the boulder had led them into a twilight tunnel. The three men, Acquila on point and Darian in the rear, walked silently over the dead ground.

  Whatever, or whomever, created the path had used it over a period of many years. The ground was still fertile, but seemed as though nothing would grow on it, or was given the chance.

  Acquila stopped every so often to look for sign, but found none. It was as though whatever made the path didn't leave footprints. The deeper they traveled into the forest, the fewer sounds they heard. The birdsong had all but disappeared and even the insects were silent. The occasional errant footstep and his own breathing were all Nerutal could hear.

  They had left Ellistan guarding the camp. Nerutal had told the ill soldier to rest as much as possible. The four scouts hadn't encountered another person in over a week. The chances any would find their camp were low. Just the same, he hoped Ellistan didn't sleep too soundly. The lady in the river, the Naiad, still tugged at his mind. In daylight, she had been a dream. But as they walked the darkened path, the likelihood she'd been real seemed much more possible.

  When Acquila stopped again and lowered himself to his haunches to examine the ground, Nerutal turned and looked past Darian. The path was nearly straight; the entrance by the river glowed in the distance. Darian raised his eyebrows at Nerutal. Nerutal shook his head and turned back to the path before them.

  Acquila brushed aside some leaves that had fallen to the forest floor. His fingers gently dug in the black earth. Nerutal fought the urge to peer over the man's shoulder with some amusement. When a soldier stopped to check for sign, he'd taught his men to cover the rear and protect the scout from any threats that may emerge before him.

  Acquila rose with something in his palm. He turned to Nerutal, hand outstretched. A scrap of cloth dangled between his fingers.

  Nerutal took it and held it up. The patch was deeply stained, but more importantly, the cloth had been torn and shredded. He remembered the deep grooves in the boulder and shuddered. Whatever had made those marks had cut the cloth as well.

  Nerutal held up his hand and clenched it into a fist twice. Acquila nodded and resumed his quiet walk. Nerutal could feel Darian behind him. The old soldier had moved a little closer to his leader, bunching up their step. There weren't enough soldiers to form a phalanx, and without shields, it would have been impossible anyway. But closely knit, all holding their xiphos and striking as one, the trio had a far better chance of taking out a large beast like a bear.

  They continued walking for several minutes. Acquila held up a hand in a tight fist. Nerutal and Darian halted, waiting for the point scout to give instructions. Then Nerutal heard it--singing.

  A mix of voices, men and women, old and young. The distant choir's words were unlike any he'd heard before, save the Naiad. The song broke into a chant, the same three sounds repeating over and over before breaking back into singing.

  Acquila turned his head to look at Nerutal, brow furrowed.

  Nerutal nodded.

  Acquila returned the nod, turned, and walked ahead, his weapon held before him.

  Once the young man was several lengths away, Nerutal followed. Facing humans was different than facing a beast--spreading out gave more room to fight.

  The sound was louder with each step. Nerutal scanned from side to side, trying to find any unexpected shapes in the deep forest overgrowth. The singers were somewhere up ahead, but that didn't mean there weren't others in the forest.

  Darian would be doing the same, looking from side to side, turning around from time to time to check the rear. If Ellistan hadn't been ill, they would be better equipped for a fight. Nerutal gritted his teeth.

  Acquila was crouched on his knees. Nerutal followed suit. The soldier raised his hand and clenched it into a fist three times--enemy sighted. Nerutal repeated the signal for Darian and crawled toward Acquila's position to look through a gap in the trees.

  A circle of seven naked men and women stood around an altar, hands raised. As they sang, they hunched downward and then rose as one. Strange crimson marks covered their dark-skinned backs.

  The chanting stopped. The group lowered their hands to their sides in silence. As Nerutal watched, one of the women strode forward to the altar; the circle closed behind her.

  She raised her head and hands to the sky. "Garaaga!" The circle followed suit, their voices chanting the name as one. The woman dropped her arms and the chanting ceased.

  A large man with long dark hair entered the clearing carrying a young woman over his shoulder. She couldn't have been older than child-bearing age. Nerutal frowned as the woman at the altar retreated. The giant placed the girl on the center of the altar and re-joined the others.

  "Garaaga," the circle whispered. The woman leader touched the giant's hand. She leaned forward and kissed his chest while the throng continued their quiet chant.

  The giant kissed the woman's head and then strode toward th
e altar. His penis hardened with each step and his smile was filled with yellowed teeth. When he reached the altar, he reached for the sacrifice.

  The girl on the altar began to scream.

  Acquila leapt from the path and crashed into the brush. Nerutal cursed as the members of the circle turned toward him. "Darian, attack!" Nerutal cried and followed Acquila into the clearing.

  The young soldier was mere lengths away from the circle when the men and women charged. Each had their hands outstretched, their faces set in screams of rage. Acquila's sword slashed in a downward diagonal, opening the stomach of the first to meet him. Blood sprayed through the air as the rest descended upon him.

  Nerutal watched two more of the crowd fall beneath Acquila's slashing sword. The giant of a man smashed a fist into Acquila's face, knocking him sideways. He stumbled and then fell as two women leapt atop him.

  Screaming a battle cry, Nerutal thrust forward, catching one of the men in the back. He felt the blade pierce through the spine, kicked his foot forward and pushed the body off the sword. Another of the party turned toward him. Nerutal swung his sword in a sharp diagonal. The xiphos ripped through the man's jaw with a cracking sound. Teeth and bone flew from the man's blood-filled mouth.

  As Nerutal pulled the sword free, a large forearm connected with his chin. The force spun him and he saw starlight. Instead of trying to regain his footing, Nerutal let himself fall forward, crouched into a somersault and jumped to his feet, his sword swinging.

  The giant danced back from the slashing blade. Darian ran past to help Acquila. Nerutal barely noticed.

  The brute raised his fists and held his feet apart. Nerutal smiled. He feinted with the sword. The man didn't react. His smile widened. It had been months since he'd been on a battlefield, even longer since he'd fought one-on-one with a worthy opponent.

  The screams of the dying and wounded rang in his ears, and although his heart was pounding in his chest, he focused on the man's hands and feet. Nerutal moved a step forward, just outside the man's long reach. The xiphos was too short to strike the giant without taking a few more steps.

  Nerutal feinted a vertical strike and then flew forward. The man's arms reached for him, managing to catch his shoulder. Alexander's one time protector slashed sideways, his blade cutting through the man's left foot.

  The giant bellowed and stumbled backwards. Nerutal flipped the sword to his left hand and hacked at the man's inner thigh. The blade cut through his flesh and a stream of blood jetted from the wound. His opponent fell to one knee. Nerutal rose and sliced down across the man's neck. The blade clanged off the giant's collarbone making Nerutal's arms vibrate. He pulled back on the blade and hit him again in the same place. The man's head parted from his body.

  Nerutal looked up. Acquila and Darian stood side by side, heaving from exertion. Blood covered the pair. Rent flesh hung from Acquila's face in long strips, blood oozing from the wounds. The young man's left ear lobe was missing, the grooves of teeth still visible in the remnants.

  Of the eight bodies, two were still breathing. One woman had fallen after a deep horizontal slash to her chest. Bits of shattered rib stuck out from the wound. A man lay on his side, his breath labored and erratic; he would be dead in minutes.

  "Finish."

  Acquila and Darian nodded to their leader.

  Acquila approached the woman, dropped his xiphos, grasped her head in his hands, and swiveled. Her neck broke with a crunch.

  Darian closed his hand over the man's nose and mouth. The body didn't even twitch as it suffocated.

  The smell of piss, shit, and blood stung Nerutal's nose. It had been a short battle and not even a good one, but all battles ended the same-- corpses smelling of offal and a field covered in blood.

  "You lost your pretty one."

  Acquila looked up at Nerutal and then at the altar. The girl was gone. Acquila nodded.

  "Was it worth it, soldier?" Nerutal growled.

  The young scout rose from his haunches with his weapon in hand. He pointed the sword tip at his heart, the hilt jutting outward in supplication.

  "Not today." Nerutal walked forward past the sword and swung a fist into Acquila's temple.

  Acquila fell to one knee, the xiphos dropping from his hand.

  "You ever do that again without orders, and I will end you."

  "Yes, sir," Acquila grunted.

  "Darian."

  "Sir?"

  "If I'm not mistaken, I see huts."

  Darian looked past the altar and squinted at the edges of the tree line.

  "Aye."

  "Provisions. All we can carry."

  "Aye," Darian said.

  The older man moved with cat-like grace, his sword held in the ready position as he approached the thatched huts. Nerutal smiled. The oldest of his former legion, and yet by far the best.

  "Get up."

  Acquila rose in a daze.

  "When you get yourself together, soldier, you will search the area. Understood?"

  "Sir."

  Nerutal turned his back and walked to the altar. He stared at it for a long time. "Gods," he whispered.

  Two trips and their packs were full. Acquila, Nerutal, and Darian had looted the tiny village--dried meat, flat bread, and all the fruit they could carry.

  Ellistan had been asleep when they returned the first time. The man looked less feverish. Nerutal was glad for it; if there were other villages along the way, they would need another fighter. Acquila's wounds were not mortal, but it would take him some time to recover.

  The young soldier had twisted his knee during the fight and walked with a slight limp. Acquila knew better than to complain.

  Nerutal's rules for the scouts were simple. If you followed orders and tragedy befell you, that was bad luck. If you didn't obey orders or were irresponsible, then you were the source of the bad luck. Those who didn't obey orders would receive no succor from the rest of the scouts.

  He wanted to ask the boy why he had charged, but it didn't matter. The battle was over and at the very least, they had managed to retrieve food and clothing. Nerutal, Acquila, and Darian had grabbed their packs from their camp, filled them and then returned to load themselves with more supplies from the village. Each of the three men would have to carry double their share of weight and it would slow them down, but it was worth the risk.

  As Darian placed poultices on Acquila's wounds, Nerutal stared at the bright green river. The crudely carved stone beast that jutted from the altar kept returning to his thoughts. The thing had arms that ended in talons and a triangular maw filled with razored teeth. The sexual organs were prominently displayed, both male and female.

  Strange symbols were carved into the base like nothing he'd ever seen before. Sanskrit, the written word of the Indus peoples, was blasé by comparison. Even the language of the Egyptians seemed less cryptic.

  The worst part of the altar had been the figures burned into the stone. It was as if dozens of corpses had been set fire to and left to burn, leaving the imprints of fingers and hands, heads and legs.

  Counting the different marks had proved impossible since many overlapped. Nerutal wondered how the marks had been made. The thought made him shiver.

  The young girl would have been their next sacrifice, of that he was certain. What strange peoples were these that did such things?

  The Indus denizens worshipped many gods, statues of a woman with multiple arms, a strange elephant-headed god, and dozens of others. But the altar had been something new; he'd never seen anything like the beast before.

  Alexander's Indus translator and guide might know, but there was no way to contact him.

  Nerutal opened his pack and stared at a leather-bound book. His fingers trembled and then lifted it from the pack. He stared at the markings burned into the cover and turned it over in his hands.

  The scouts hadn't encountered a single bovine since they began their exile. Yet the book cover was clearly animal hide. Deer? Something else?

  Dari
an had found it in the largest and emptiest of the huts. The rest of the huts had been built with woven and thatched green grass over a wooden frame. They were hardly sturdy and Nerutal had wondered how much longer they would stand without the villagers there to maintain them.

  The large hut had been constructed using crude wooden planks, except for a single side that was covered by a woven grass wall. The wall's opening hadn't been especially large.

  When Darian called Nerutal to look inside the structure, he'd had to drop his pack in order to fit through the entrance. Light penetrated the structure from a single slit in its wooden roof. A table had been mounted against the lit wall. A stone pedestal standing on its surface had held the book.

  Whereas the other huts had been slovenly kept, the wooden one was immaculate.

  "Is this a temple?" Darian had asked.

  Nerutal had walked to the pedestal and stared at it. It seemed to glow in the light.

  "Darian, go outside and see if the trees have been cut above this hut."

  "Aye."

  Seven crimson colored symbols stared back at him from the leather cover. The strange marks were composed of geometric shapes, hooks, and figures. He rubbed his fingers across them, letting his skin feel the grooves until he was lost in them.

  "Sir?"

  Nerutal flinched and then composed himself at the scout's return. "Yes?"

  "Looks like someone climbed up the trees above and cut the branches all the way to the canopy. This is the only area that looks like that. At least that I can see."

  "Temple," Nerutal muttered.

  "Sir?"

  "You're right, Darian. This is a temple."

  Nerutal removed the book from the pedestal. "Finish rounding up the supplies. Tell Acquila to get off his ass and help."

  "Sir."

  Nerutal had followed the older soldier through the opening.

  The book was cool in his hands. Nerutal opened the cover.