Tarpals awoke the
following morning to a shroud of mist. He sat up and stretched, breathing deeply
and savoring the quiet of the forest. Off to one side, the Naaboos'
shelter was a dim grey lump in the fog; the occasional sound of rustling leaves
or a small object dropping through tree branches was muted.
After a moment, he climbed to his knees and began folding up his sleeping hide.
With any luck, the group assigned to the waystation would be back around
mid-day, and they would all be able to move on. After that, it was another day
and a half to Tendesay, where they would drop off the Naaboo, promise
fulfilled, and continue on to the Sacred Place. In the meantime, they would have
another morning to work on avoidance strategies in case the maccaneeks
managed to catch up with them.
Unconsciously, the Gungan shook his head. Yesterday's practices had not gone
well. The Naaboo had had a difficult time dealing with the riding
animals. The lack of ammunition had meant that the militiagungs could
only do limited target shooting, and their attempts to use the weapons taken
from the maccaneeks had been frustrating. Gungan weaponry consisted
mostly of things thrown, like the buumas, or stabbed with at close range
like a cesta or electropole. The maccaneek weapons
consisted of a trigger and a completely unnatural method of aiming. Large
targets weren't a problem, since the weapons shot some sort of energy that
shattered whatever it touched, but hitting a small, moving target like a maccaneek
required a much greater skill.
Still, there was no point in wasting their time that morning. When Herns's
group returned, they would be able to provide information about what, if
anything, waited for them outside the boundaries of the forest.
The Gungan rose, picking up the folded leather. He cast about for a low bush,
then opened the hide and draped it over the plant. The water would eventually
evaporate, and then the hide would be rolled up and tied behind his saddle.
A brief swim yielded both a chance to clean up and a breakfast of fish; as he
returned to camp, he could hear others stirring as well. Tarpals bent down to
peer into the shelter; the Naaboo appeared to all be asleep. The adult
was closest to the opening.
"Rep Brand-ess," murmured Tarpals, reaching in carefully to touch the Naaboo
woman on the shoulder. "Rep Brand-ess, iss'n time to be getting all'n
yousa up."
She jerked awake and rolled over to blink at him blearily. "Is it morning
already?"
"Yiss. Yousan want to get up, find some-att to ett, and meet ussan in the
middle of camp. Wesa gott'n more work to do this morning."
Brandes groaned. "I'll be lucky if I can move at all," she remarked, but
managed to sit up. Tarpals left her to rouse the children. The woman waited
until he had disappeared into the mist. Then she stretched several times to
limber up her muscles. Once the others were awake, she said, "Melni, go to the
other shelter and make sure the others are up. Tell them to come here as soon as
they can. I think we need to hold a council."
"Yes, Minister Brandes," Melni replied, and picked her way over to the other
shelter. In a few minutes she had returned with the teens and Irric in tow.
"Everyone in and sit down," Brandes ordered them.
"Are we going to look for breakfast?" asked Irric as he sat next to Edvic.
"Eventually," Brandes said. "But first I want to talk to everyone about
something else. Last night, you had one of the Gungans sleeping outside your
shelter, didn't you?"
"Orrin," Saché answered. "She said that after the zalaaca attack
the night before that she thought it might be a good idea to stay near us after
dark." The Handmaiden paused. "You think she had a different reason,
right?"
"Yes. We had the captain himself outside last night, and it didn't have
anything to do with the zalaaca," Brandes told them. "Apparently some
of the Gungans are very unhappy about having us along and being forced to work
with us. The captain seemed to think they might try to do something
unpleasant."
A circle of solemn faces surrounded her. "Why?" asked Nalla. "We didn't
do anything to them."
"That doesn't matter, Nalla," Yané replied. "We're different, and
they see us as helpless."
"And I don't think their practice sessions yesterday went any better than
ours," Saché added.
"I'm concerned that the captain was worried enough about his own people that
he chose to guard us himself," Brandes continued. "I can't believe he or
Orrin or Lieutenant Peskis would do anything to harm any of us, but I'm not
sure about any of the other soldiers. We've already seen one of them bully
Edvic, and I've overheard some of the comments some of the others have made.
I'm having second thoughts about staying with the Gungans at this point. I
think the worst they would do might be to abandon us, but frankly, that's bad
enough. I think it might be a good idea to have an alternative plan before
things deteriorate any further.
"Now, Saché and Yané, you've both learned how to build shelters,
correct?" Both teens nodded. "And thanks to Irric and Nalla, we know enough
about food that we could probably manage, although the captain doesn't seem to
think we're more than a couple of days from Tendesay."
"We'd do better with riding animals," Saché said bluntly. "I know the kaadu
won't let us ride, but we've been working with the falumpasets for
the last few days, and they're certainly strong enough to carry us to Tendesay."
Seeing the look on Brandes's face, she added, "I don't like the idea of
stealing their animals, either, but I think we should at least consider it. It
would make it a lot easier to get where we're going so that everyone doesn't
have to walk."
"The Gungans picked up droid weapons, too," Edvic added. "If we could get
ahold of a few of them, we'd have some defense if the Trade Federation troops
caught up with us again. Besides, if we have weapons, we could force them to let
us go."
"I'd just as soon not shoot anyone," Brandes said. "Most of the Gungans
have been decent enough. There are only a few who openly dislike us."
Edvic muttered something under his breath.
"What about Zanté?" asked Melni suddenly. "Are you going to leave her
with the Gungans?"
Brandes sighed and considered. "I know that Sen Tal and Hanar seem to be
genuinely concerned about her, and are letting her stay with their children, but
leaving her is unacceptable. I'm sure her parents will want her back, and
frankly I'd rather not leave any of us with the Gungans, no matter how friendly
they seem. I'll just have to get her away from them somehow."
"The most difficult part will be getting away," Saché said. "During the
day, the Gungans are all riding, and the kaadu are a lot faster than the falumpasets.
And during the night, the Gungans are keeping an eye on their herds."
"Maybe we could pretend that you and Yané want to have a practice session
this evening," Nalla suggested. "That way you could have the falumpasets
all saddled and ready, and the Gungans would mostly be on foot."
"We can't steer the animals very well yet," Saché reminded her. "And I
doubt it would take long for the Gungans to come after us – they're a lot
more used to riding than we are. Besides, then we'd be traveling after dark.
The Gungans can see a lot better than we can at night."
Brandes sighed. "I'm beginning to feel as much a prisoner now as I did when
we were captives of the Trade Federation." She looked around the group.
"Well, if nothing else, I agree that getting some of the droid weapons would
help." She addressed the three teens. "If you get a chance to get ahold of
some, take it. Orrin's been friendly enough, and she seems to have the
Captain's confidence. Perhaps she'd let us have the blasters if we asked and
explained the situation."
"Why don't you ask the Captain?" suggested Arlan. "He seems to like
you."
Brandes smiled and patted his shoulder. "He deals with me because I'm the
oldest of our group, and I'm in charge, not because he likes me, Arlan. But
I'll discuss our situation with him. First, though, I think we all need to
clean up and find something to eat, as the Captain suggested."
~*~*~*~
The humans gathered in the middle of the camp along with the Gungans, and
Tarpals began handing out assignments – the gathering of food, the practice
sessions, the loading of supplies. Midway through the meeting, however, there
came the raucous squawking of the peko-peko. The call repeated itself twice, and
suddenly all the Gungans tensed. Heads turned toward the sound. The humans
looked warily from one face to another.
"What's happening?" Saché whispered to Orrin.
"Dat's the signal from one'a oursan sentries," Orrin replied.
"Someone's commin'."
There came a second call, this time of a different swamp bird, and most of the
Gungans relaxed.
"Our away party?" Yané guessed.
"Yiss," Orrin replied. She frowned. "Deysa early."
A few moments later, a crackling of undergrowth heralded the arrival of several
large creatures pushing through the forest. One of the falumpasets
emerged from a screen of growth, followed by the second. Riders sat on both
animals. Behind them plodded a kaadu; its rider held the reins of
another, riderless animal.
Tarpals, Sen Tal, Peskis and two others sprinted for the approaching party. The
rider on the second falumpaset, who the humans could now see was Kimma
Nril, was slumped in the saddle, clinging to the saddle horn to keep herself
from slipping off; Herns, astride the first beast, held the reins. The third
rider was Rell Iss.
From the other side of the group, Hanar groaned and pushed his way through the
crowd to run after Sen Tal. Herns had brought the falumpasets to a halt;
his animal leaned forward and bent its front knees to allow him to slide off. He
immediately urged the second animal to do the same. Kimma lurched to one side
and all but fell into Sen Tal's arms. Tarpals caught her knees. The two
Gungans lowered her carefully to the ground.
"Maatra?" squeaked Temmis in a quavering voice. He let go of
Plirri's hand and ran after his parents. The younger Gungan scurried after
him, followed by Zanté. "Maatra?"
Hanar turned at the sound of his voice. "No. You two stay there." He trotted
back toward them, stooping to catch Temmis by the shoulders. "They don't
need all of us standing around them right now."
"Is something wrong with Maatra? Is she all right?"
"She's hurt, Temmis, but I don't know how badly." Hanar reached for
Plirri, but the youngster evaded him and ran to Sen Tal, who picked him up. The
little Gungan clung to his father and peered down at his mother.
"Wanna see Maatra," Plirri protested. Sen Tal carried him to where
Temmis and Hanar stood.
"You can see her in a minute, Plirri," Sen Tal said. "Right now the
Captain and Lieutenant Peskis need to see her more."
"Is Maatra sick?"
"No. She's hurt, but she's still alive. Having us hovering over them
won't help."
Tarpals, crouched beside Kimma, straightened and caught Herns's eye. The
captain jerked his head, and the two of them walked a short distance away.
"Report, Corporal."
"We were attacked," Herns replied. "Yesterday afternoon, as we were
approaching the waystation. Five maccaneeks on their flying vehicles.
Somehow they knew we were there." He described the battle, Kimma's leap and
injury. "We spent last night hiding, then running, then hiding so we
wouldn't lead them back to you."
"Jenais?"
Herns shook his head. "I don't know. Captured, probably. He held the maccaneeks
off long enough for us to get away. I saw him still standing when I looked
back."
Tarpals squeezed his eyes closed. Jenais had served with the Third for nine
seasons, and was a valued scout. "All right." He called around Herns.
"Orrin!"
Orrin came trotting through the brush. "See that the animals are rubbed down
and pastured. Break out some of our ammunition and send two others around the
sentries to distribute it. I want them watching for maccaneeks."
"We lost them!" Herns snapped.
"I'd rather be prepared," Tarpals replied. "Also, tell Vlenka to find
food for the returning party."
"Yes, sir." Orrin, with a worried look at the knot of people around Kimma,
turned away.
"Captain, if we move quickly, we might be able to go back and pick up the maccaneeks'
trail," Herns suggested.
"No."
"But—"
"No!" Tarpals snapped. "We are low on ammunition, we have a wounded member
of the group, you three have been riding most of the night and are in no
condition to do anything but rest. We knew that trying for the waypost was
risky. I won't put anyone in danger like that until we've had a chance to
regroup." He turned as Peskis stepped up and stood discreetly at his elbow.
"Captain, Kimma Nril has suffered severe bruising. She may be bleeding inside.
She needs to rest, and we need to treat her. I'd like to get her under shelter
as soon as possible."
"Yes. Commandeer whoever you need." Peskis saluted and signed to the militiagungs
to get two more people over to carry their wounded comrade. Tarpals turned back
to Herns. "Even if you left now, the maccaneeks have had plenty of time
to take Jenais elsewhere."
"A small group—"
"The answer is 'no'!" Tarpals barked. "Go get something to eat, get
some rest. You did a valiant job, but someone else needs to deal with this
now."
Herns sneered; for a moment he seemed on the verge of saying something else,
then turned and stalked away. Tarpals considered calling him back and
reprimanding him for not saluting, and then mentally waved it off. He cast about
for Rell Iss, who had dismounted and turned the reins of both kaadu over
to two militiagungs.
The younger Gungan saluted, then stared down at the ground. Tarpals bent forward
a little. "Rell Iss. Are you hurt?"
"No, sir," Rell Iss murmured.
"Rell Iss!" Tarpals repeated. His aide looked up. "Report."
Rell Iss's mouth opened and closed several times. Finally he managed, "We
reached the edge of the woods late yesterday afternoon and started across the
field to the lake. We were about halfway there when we heard...them. The maccaneeks.
They came toward us from the direction of the lake. We turned and ran, but the falumpasets
were slower than the kaadu and – and – Jenais jumped off to fight the
maccaneeks. I – I wanted to go back and help, but my mount slipped....
Kimma came back and past me and fought off the maccaneeks so my kaadu
had time to get its balance and then we rode for the forest. When Herns caught
up with us, he was alone, and then –"
"Slow down."
Rell Iss took a deep breath. "Yes, sir. Herns and Kimma fought three of the maccaneeks
at the edge of the woods. One of them followed us in, and Kimma jumped it. But
when she got up, she was – was hurt, and –"
"All right, Rell Iss, that's enough for now. Go get something to eat and
some rest."
"Sir, Jenais –"
"We can't do anything for him right now, Rell Iss."
"Sir, he – he saved all of us."
Tarpals sighed. "I know. His loss is painful. But think about this: Kimma and
her family were captured by the maccaneeks. They were being taken to a
holding area. If Jenais survived, he's most likely still alive. It's
possible that he might either escape, or that we may eventually find and free
him. But going back into the open after him right now is a poor idea." Tarpals
reached out and squeezed Rell Iss's shoulder. "Jenais did his duty. You did
yours. It's a blessing you weren't all taken. We won't leave Jenais in the
maccaneeks' hands indefinitely. Now, go rest."
"Yes, Captain." Rell Iss walked toward the camp, shoulders bowed. Tarpals
turned to watch Peskis, Sen Tal, and two more Gungans carefully lift Kimma Nril
and carry her toward camp. Kimma's eyes opened and she said something to Sen
Tal, and then let her head rest on his arm. As they passed the rest of her
family, Hanar and the children fell in behind them. The combined group of
Gungans and humans watched solemnly as Kimma was borne to her family's
shelter.
Tarpals sighed, then motioned one of his Patrol members over and set him the
task of continuing the militiagungs' target practice. Giving everyone
something to do would distract them from the failed mission and provide him with
time to think. Without the extra ammunition and food, getting to Tendesay was
going to be much more difficult. The maccaneeks apparently patrolled the
open areas of the planet; the rest of the journey to Tendesay would have to be
through fields and grasslands, where the Gungans would be highly visible. Taking
the Naaboo with them to the Sacred Place was one possibility, but Tarpals
doubted that either his superior officers or the civilian authorities would be
happy with him. Besides, he had promised the Naaboo an escort to Tendesay.
And the route to the Sacred Place included a couple of forays into open country
as well. Perhaps at night....
~*~*~*~
Rell Iss had foraged half-heartedly, but instead of following the Captain's
order to rest, he settled himself on a fallen tree and stared morosely off into
the dark green of the forest. Well, it was a form of resting, he supposed,
drawing his knees up to his chest and lowering his chin onto his folded arms.
The youngest member of the Third Mounted Patrol, Rell Iss had been alternately
teased and parented by most of the older riders. Ven Artil and the Captain were
the most demanding, but also strongly supportive. Artil had a family and plenty
of experience dealing with youngsters; he knew when to push and when to listen.
Tarpals, who didn't seem particularly close to any of his clan family's
children, had more of a tendency to lecture, but had also praised Rell Iss to
both the youngster's parents and to the upper level commanders of the Gungan
Grand Army. According to the captain, General Ceel himself had expressed an
interest in taking Rell Iss on as a junior officer when his training period with
the Third was over.
But now.... Their civilization disrupted, a failed mission, a missing
comrade.... Rell Iss buried his face in his arms.
"Are you playing hide-and-seek?" piped a Naaboo voice. Arlan, the sprattling
with the red hair, climbed onto the log beside Rell Iss.
"No. Go 'way." The Gungan's voice was muffled. In the woodlands, one was
always expected to be alert, Rell Iss knew, but right then he didn't care
about predators or maccaneeks.
"Are you sick?"
"No." Didn't Naaboo understand simple instructions? "Leave mesa
'lone."
"Nobody's s'posed to be by themselves, Minister Brandes said so. And your
dad probably wouldn't like it, either."
Rell Iss lifted his head, about to snap at the boy. An unfamiliar word stopped
him. "Ded?"
"Dad. Your father. Isn't the captain your father?"
Still too miserable to laugh at the Naaboo's mistake, Rell Iss merely
scowled. "The kippton, hesa my commanding off'cer. My paatras, deysa
gone to Sacred Place with the rest'n oursan people." I hope.
"Oh." Arlan sounded puzzled; Rell Iss doubted that the Naaboo
understood what he'd just said, but he didn't feel like explaining it. The sprattling
focused on Rell Iss's message horn.
"Can you play music on that? My dad can play the rettan-horn."
"Mesa play messages," Rell Iss replied.
"What's that mean?"
Rell Iss unfolded his legs and turned slightly toward the boy. "Messages
iss'n series of notes, tells ever'one what to do. Iff'n wesa ridin'
an' the kippton wants ussan to stop, mesa play one set of notes. Iff'n wesa
seein' some-att comin' at ussan an' wesa wanta warn ever'one, mesa play
different notes."
"Oh. Don't you know any songs?"
Irritated, Rell Iss replied, "Messages iss more important. Deysa tell
ever'one what's goin' on, what to do. Iss liken talkin' to each other,
'cept without words."
"I can do that!" Arlan exclaimed. "Peskis taught us! See? This is the sign
for 'thank you'—" Arlan's hand touched first his chest, then his
mouth, "—and this is the sign for 'come here', and –"
"Well, at least they can be taught simple tricks," sneered Herns's voice
from behind them. Both Rell Iss and Arlan jumped, startled. The boy paled at the
sight of the adult Gungan; Rell Iss swung both legs over the log and turned to
face Herns.
"Yousa wastin' yoursa time tryin' to teach dem ennyt'ing," Herns
remarked, switching to Bassic. "Deysa not smartie 'nough to unnerstand."
"You're mean!" Arlan snapped furiously. The young Naaboo jumped off
the log and stood scowling up at Herns fiercely, fists clenched. Rell Iss
blinked at him in surprise. "All you ever do is push people around and say bad
things about them! My dad says that people who do that are bullies! An' you
should always stand up to bullies!"
Herns bent forward until his face was only a finger's width away from the
boy's nose. "An' did yoursa ded tell yousa what happens when a little'un
liken yousa tries some-att liken dat?" He seized the front of the Naaboo's
shirt, lifting him up onto his toes.
Arlan struggled. "Let go! I'll tell the captain!"
Rell Iss's stomach suddenly felt knotted. The Naaboo was annoying,
granted, but nobody had any right to beat a child. "Leave him alone, Herns,"
he said in High Gungan. "He's barely old enough to have a name."
"They're the reason the maccaneeks are here in the first place,"
Herns responded, the boy still dangling from one hand. "They meddle where they
don't belong. And do you know that's been happening while we've been gone?
The rest of the patrol has been practicing fighting, while the Naaboo
have been practicing hiding!" He all but dropped Arlan; the boy fell backward,
sprawling at Rell Iss's feet. Eyes tearing, Arlan scrambled upright and fled
toward camp, leaving Rell Iss staring after him.
"He's only a sprattling," Rell Iss said. "You shouldn't pick on
him. It's not his fault."
Herns cocked his head, and then nodded slowly. "You're right. The little one
isn't the problem." He turned his head back toward camp, and added
thoughtfully, "And really, the Naaboo aren't the true problem right
now, either."
Rell Iss sagged a little in relief. Seeing Herns as a bully made Rell Iss
uncomfortable. His respect for the corporal had grown considerably in the last
two days as he had watched Herns battle the maccaneeks and lead a
diminished scouting group back to camp safely. After all, the maccaneeks
were the real threat now. "I agree, Corporal."
Herns nodded, turning back to him. "Absolutely. I don't see any point in
wasting time fighting with the Naaboo. Caadrey," he added politely as a
farewell, and then strode off in the direction of camp. Rell Iss watched him go,
feeling suddenly exhausted. They were back among their people, others were
watching out for dangers, and Herns was going to leave the Naaboo alone.
The young Gungan stretched wearily and yawned. Maybe it was finally time to
rest.
Rell Iss felt an emotional twinge. Arlan had fled back to camp, probably
terrified. The Gungan had siblings of his own, and he knew how he'd feel if
someone hurt them. Since he was heading back to camp anyway, he supposed there
was no harm in making certain the Naaboo was all right.
