In the Nril family's wood and leaf shelter, Peskis squeezed Kimma shoulder.
"You're not bleeding inside, as I feared, but you shouldn't be moving
around," he told her. Sen Tal and Hanar hovered over him; Temmis sat beside
her other shoulder and Plirri was curled up with his head resting on his
mother's arm. "I'm going to make something for you to drink. It will help
bring the swelling down, and let you sleep and recover more easily. However,
it's going to take a while to find some of the ingredients. In the meantime,
you are to rest." He looked up at Temmis. "You and Zanté could help by
finding her something to eat," Peskis suggested. Temmis, looking relieved at
being able to do something, nodded energetically. The Gungan scout rose and
turned to Kimma's essoans. "She's in no immediate danger, but all
that jolting last night didn't help. She needs rest and quiet." Both males
nodded. "I'll be back with the medicine as soon as I can. I'm going to
find some folks to help me gather ingredients."
~*~*~*~
Tarpals had made the rounds of the camp. The riding animals were settled in
their pasture, Rell Iss had gone off to rest, and the sentries had reported
nothing of interest moving on the perimeter of their positions. Herns had done
an impressive job of losing his maccaneek pursuers, particularly while
caring for a wounded teammate. When they finally reached the Sacred Place,
Tarpals decided, he'd make it a point to deliver a complimentary report to
General Yoss. If the Corporal could just keep himself under control instead of
arguing with his superior officers and antagonizing the Naaboo....
As if on cue, Herns approached him at the edge of the camp's clearing.
"Captain, I need to talk to you."
Tarpals eyed him. "You're supposed to be resting, Corporal."
"I know, Captain, but I wanted to talk to you first. It's about what we're
going to do next."
Sternly, Tarpals told him, "I haven't decided what we're going to do next.
We need time to rest and get Kimma Nril stabilized. While that's happening,
the rest of us are going to keep drilling until we can work together as a
team."
"Even the Naaboo?"
"Yes, even the Naaboo. If we're all going to reach Tendesay, everyone
needs to do their part."
Herns jerked his head several times irritably. "Captain, I disagree."
Tarpals blinked, then scowled. Herns added, "Permission to speak freely,
sir?"
Tarpals hesitated, then, remembering Herns's efforts in getting his team back
to camp safely, said, "Granted."
"Sir, the Naaboo are the reason we're facing this whole crisis in the
first place. I think we would be better off letting them go on to Tendesay on
their own, while we return to the swamps and meet the rest of our people at the
Sacred Place. We don't have the supplies for an extended trip into the
grasslands. We've taken the Naaboo this far, but now I think it's too
dangerous for us to go any further with them. We rescued them from the maccaneeks
and brought them to the edge of their territory. Surely we don't owe them our
lives as well."
Tarpals's eyes narrowed. "You intend for us to turn a group of children loose
and let them try to walk across open land to Tendesay, with no supplies or
protection? Herns, the maccaneeks found you not long after you entered
the grasslands. Your party barely escaped, with one member lost, and that only
because you had riding animals and a team of warriors to take on the maccaneeks.
Sending the Naaboo out in the open would almost certainly mean they'd
be recaptured. No," he snapped, as Herns opened his mouth. "You've had
your say, Corporal, and your opinion has been noted. But I'm the ranking
officer here. I gave the Naaboo my word that we would take them to
Tendesay, and that's what will happen. There's a time for discussion, and a
time for obeying orders. End of discussion. Dismissed!"
"But –"
"Dismissed!" Tarpals repeated.
Herns growled softly, then whirled and stalked away. Tarpals shook his head and
turned away, meaning to observe the target practice training.
Herns's full weight crashed against the Captain's back, and both Gungans
went down in a heap, the younger Gungan on top. Herns drew himself up to deal a
blow to the back of Tarpals's head, but the older Gungan twisted and caught
his arm in mid-strike. Tarpals deflected the blow, causing Herns to tumble
sideways, and sprang to his feet. The two combatants faced off.
"Corporal, this is not—"
Herns lunged at Tarpals, teeth bared. Tarpals blocked him, shoving his wrist
across Herns's throat. Herns's momentum carried them both backwards. Tarpals
stumbled into the brush behind him; the branches tangled around his legs. Both
Gungans crashed to the ground, shattering the bush. Herns twisted, catching the
trailing edge of one of Tarpals's haillu in his teeth. Tarpals gave his
head a quick snap; he felt his skin tear, but the hard, thorny "claws" on
the edges of his free ear slashed Herns across the face, cutting his nose.
Snarling, the younger Gungan let go, giving the Captain time to scramble to his
feet.
Herns charged, and Tarpals stepped in to meet him, catching the other Gungan's
arm and dragging him full circle to pin the arm behind his back. Herns turned
into the motion, twisting and snarling; teeth snapped shut a finger's width
from the older Gungan's eye. Herns's free arm swept in an arc, fist
clenched. Tarpals ducked the punch, losing his grip on Herns's arm, and rolled
forward to a standing position, wheeling to face his opponent.
~*~*~*~
Rell Iss found Arlan huddled in Hela Brandes's arms, wailing, face wet. The
Gungan stared, puzzled – his people did not weep; their eyes lacked the tear
ducts of a human. However, the sound of grief was similar, and Rell Iss could
tell the young Naaboo was upset. Brandes frowned up at Rell Iss, whose haillu
drooped as a sign of remorse. "If Corporal Herns is with you, I've got
something scathing to tell him," she warned.
"Hesa gone," Rell Iss assured her. "Mesa kemm to check onna sprattling."
Arlan sniffled, and Brandes hugged him. "I think he's more frightened than
hurt, but that's bad enough! Herns should be ashamed of himself!"
"Hesa sedd yousa not the pro'lem," Rell Iss said. "My don't think hesa
gonna bother yousan any more."
"He'd better not," Brandes replied, "or I'll give him a good slap,
too!"
Privately, Rell Iss doubted that would stop Herns for more than a few moments,
but he remained silent. Herns had indicated that he would leave the Naaboo
alone, and there was no point looking for trouble when plenty of trouble was
already at hand.
Rell Iss found himself in the awkward position of having to explain a superior
officer's action to someone. "Wesan all berry tired," he began, "an'
wesa none of ussan thinkin' berry clearly right now. Wass a long night. The
corp'rol, hesa fought maccaneeks and found ussan hidin' places during
the night. My know hesa sometimes pushin' people 'round, but hesa rilly a
brave—"
"Stop!" Brandes interrupted. "I understand that you must all have had a
terrible night, but Herns should be adult enough to come and apologize for
himself. You don't need to do it for him." Some of the anger faded from
Brandes's face. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember your name," she said.
Rell Iss introduced himself. The Naaboo female nodded, then looked down
at Arlan. "All right?" she asked. Arlan nodded and sat up.
Brandes gave him a final squeeze. Her eyes fell on the message horn strapped to
Rell Iss's back. "Are you a musician, Rell Iss?"
"Mesa messenger. Sound commands," Rell Iss told her.
She nodded briskly. "I've heard some of them – your music tells us when to
stop for rests and such." She pointed to the horn. "May I see it? I'm a
harpist, myself, but I'm always interested in musical instruments."
Rell Iss untied the horn and held it out to her. She gripped it gently, turning
it over and peering at the long neck and handgrip. "This is lovely. Did you
make it?"
"No. Wesa gott'n folk who mekk them special."
"And it's all hand-made?"
Rell Iss blinked in surprise. "Course'n." How else would one make a horn?
They didn't grow on trees like fruit, after all.
Brandes seemed on the verge of asking another question, and the rest of the
children, Arlan, included, leaned forward to examine the horn, when something
crashed at the far side of the camp. Rell Iss jumped to his feet. The sentries
hadn't sounded a warning –
Leaving the horn in the Naaboo's hands, Rell Iss sprinted for the electropole
he had left on his sleeping hide, and then joined two of the other scouts racing
in the direction of the sounds of struggle.
All three of them skidded to a halt at the edge of a circle of spectators. Rell
Iss pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and gaped as Herns launched
himself at Tarpals and the two grappled. Shaking off his surprise, the Gungan
aide raised his electropole, but Peskis appeared beside him and grabbed
the haft of the weapon.
"No!" Peskis said. "They have to settle this themselves."
"He's attacking the captain!" Rell Iss protested.
"Leave them!" the older scout snapped. "They have to fight this out.
Everything depends on this!" He raised his voice. "No one interfere!"
Bewildered, Rell Iss looked around the group. Most of the faces showed
expressions of shock, some anger, others speculation. In Gungan society, bull
males no longer fought one another, except during supervised bouts or combat
practice. Most of the supervised competitions were held at the beginning of the
rainy season, as both males and females who would be mating that year began to
experience their reproductive urges. The competitions were among the "tests"
a Gungan needed to pass in order to participate in the mating rituals. Although
any responsible Gungan adult, even one without life partners, could Take In and
raise a sprattling, Gungan society expected the best, brightest, and
strongest of the race to produce the next generation of children.
By now even the humans had arrived to see who was fighting. The children
instinctively pressed close to Brandes, who was still clutching the message
horn, leaving the three teens off to one side. Saché leaned toward Yané.
"This might be a good time to get those droid weapons," she murmured to Yané.
"I think I know where the Gungans have them stashed...." The two
Handmaidens, Edvic behind them, eased their way backward away from the crowd,
which was focused on the two combatants. Melni Bibble turned toward them, but
Saché put a finger to her lips. The younger girl watched the three teens slip
away. Glancing back at the fight, Melni bit her lower lip as the Gungans faced
one another, haillu raised in a fighting stance. The girl looked over her
shoulder toward the pasture where the animals were kept. There were now three falumpasets
again. No one was watching her. For once, she could help. Melni hunched down and
crept away from the fight, then straightened and ran for the pasture area.
Crouching, Tarpals clasped both hands together and snapped erect, slamming his
fists into Herns's chin in a vicious uppercut. The other Gungan reeled full
circle and collapsed against the trunk of a tree. Tarpals snatched the electropole
from Rell Iss's hands and shoved the tip against Herns's throat at the base
of his chin.
For a moment both glared at each other, panting heavily. The rest of the group,
Gungans and humans alike, stood transfixed, waiting. Zanté clapped both hands
over her eyes and threw herself against Temmis; the young Gungan staggered and
reflexively grabbed for her to steady himself. They stood together, the Gungan
clinging to the human girl. Plirri huddled against Zanté's back, eyes closed
and face buried in the fabric of the girl's clothing.
Tarpals caught the action from the corner of his eye. For another moment he
stood, staring at Herns, whose teeth were bared and yellow eyes narrowed to
slits.
Then the older Gungan stepped back, withdrawing the tip of the electropole
from Herns's throat. He lowered the weapon; then, in one swift motion, raised
it and thrust it tip-first into the ground at his feet.
"And this is what we've come to," he burst out in High Gungan, whirling to
face the rest of the group. "The maccaneeks ravage our world while we
bicker over what to do with a group of children! Our way of life is threatened,
we come under attack, and how do we respond? By becoming the savage primitives
the Naaboo have always seen us as. Is this what you want, Herns?" He
reached forward to snag the Corporal's tunic and dragged him forward to stare
around the rest of the circle. "Is this what all of you want? You want to
leave the Naaboo behind, Herns? I wouldn't blame them if they went
running to the maccaneeks and asked them to protect the children
from us!"
Herns scowled, and Tarpals continued. "These Naaboo are victims of the
invasion, just like our own people. They have been willing to do whatever has
been asked of them -- some have volunteered to do more than what was asked. I
notice no one among us has turned down the food they gathered." There was a
general murmuring among the Gungans, and several averted their eyes.
"The only thing that keeps our civilization together is the willingness of
each of us to help one another," Tarpals said. "If we give that up, we might
as well seek out the maccaneek army and surrender right now. We can't
do that. Our people are counting on us to return to them. Any knowledge we bring
with us of the maccaneeks will be invaluable in fighting the invaders.
Here we have a perfect opportunity to learn. We stand a better chance of
survival with the Naaboos' knowledge than without it."
Hela
Brandes leaned forward and touched Peskis on the arm. "What's he saying?"
The Ankuran Gungan turned his head and murmured a translation.
Brandes suddenly handed the horn to Irric and stepped into the middle of
the group. "Please, listen to me. I know we haven't been the best traveling
companions. The children are young, and none of us are used to living in the
woods like this." She looked from one Gungan face to another. "You've
taught us a great deal – how to find food, how to build shelters, how to care
for the animals. But some of us know things you might find useful. The two
oldest girls, Saché and Yané, know how to fire the droid – the maccaneek
– weapons. The oldest boy, Edvic, knows about mechanical things – that's
what the droids are. The children and I have done our best to learn whatever
skills we need." She gazed around the circle at the Gungans. "I know our two
races have avoided each other most of the time, but if there was ever a time to
change that, to work together, this is it."
"In the end, I can't force anyone to do this," Tarpals said. "Anyone who
want to leave can go. Make your way to the Sacred Place as best you can, and
tell the rest of our people what's happened."
Eyes widened around the circle. The members of Tarpals's command stared at him
open-mouthed. "Captain?" began Rell Iss.
Tarpals held up a hand. "No. The militiagungs are free to go, as are
you. You're safe enough here for the time being. Give Kimma Nril a few days to
recover, then go to the Sacred Place. Orrin would be the ranking member of the
Patrol riders. The rest of you may follow Herns or whomever you want."
Rell Iss turned to Orrin, eyes pleading. The female titled her head to one side
and asked, "What are you going to do?"
Tarpals wrenched his electropole from the ground. "I'm going to
escort the Naaboo to Tendesay, as best I can. I don't expect any of the
rest of you to take the risk."
Orrin and the rest of the Third Mounted Patrol members exchanged glances. With
Ven Artil gone and their normal chain of command shattered, no one was quite
sure who was the second ranking officer in their midst.
Rell Iss stared down at the pole in his hands, listening to the murmuring of the
other Patrol members. He remembered the overwhelming fear he'd felt while
running from the maccaneek scouts, and the shame at leaving Jenais to his
fate. But he also remembered how proud he and his family had been when he'd
been selected as the Captain's aide and as the messenger for the Third Mounted
Patrol, both respected positions in the regiment. The captain and his second in
command had spent hours training Rell Iss in both written and horn-sound
messages, patiently coaching and correcting errors. In a sense, he'd been
adopted into an elite "family" within the ranks of the Patrol. Rell Iss
raised his eyes to his captain and stepped forward.
"No."
Tarpals blinked. "'No', what?"
"No, I'm not going to the Sacred Place. If you're going to Tendesay, then
I'm going too." Then he added, "Sir."
"Rell Iss –"
"You said we could chose," Rell Iss returned, "and that's what I'm
choosing."
The captain glanced at the humans; they knew something was happening, but
because they couldn't understand High Gungan, none of them were quite sure
what. "Rell Iss, it's a dangerous path to Tendesay," Tarpals warned. "I
don't expect to return."
Rell Iss stared back defiantly. "I don't care. I'm going, too. I'd
rather go back and face those maccaneeks than slink back to the Sacred
Place and - and have you think I'm a coward."
Tarpals sighed and laid a hand on Rell Iss's shoulder. "You're not a
coward, Rell Iss, just young and inexperienced. None of us ever trained for
anything like this. We're all swimming blind right now." He shook his head.
"I can't ask you to take the risk that would be involved in going to
Tendesay."
Orrin moved up behind Rell Iss and put a hand on his other shoulder. "Well,
too bad, Captain. Because we're going to do it anyway. So you'd
better get used to the company." The rest of the riders nodded and murmured
their consent.
"We don't care what the rest of this lot does, Captain, we're with you,"
Vlenka added, glaring at the rest of the militiagungs. "So should the
rest of you be, if you have any sense." A number of haillu and
eyestalks drooped in either embarrassment or indecision.
Tarpals sighed and closed his eyes. "Very well." He squeezed Rell Iss's
shoulder, and then glanced at each member of the Third. "Thank you." The
riders grinned and gathered around him, and for a few moments stood in a tight
knot, each member either murmuring to their neighbor or engaging in good-natured
jostling. At last Tarpals extricated himself and walked to where Temmis, Zanté
and Plirri stood, still clinging to each other. He crouched to put himself on
their eye level. "Thass it," he said in Bassic. "No more fighting." He
reached over and stroked Zanté's hair. "Iss all right now." The girl
finally drew away from Temmis, and Tarpals patted Plirri on the back. Then he
looked up at Peskis. "How's Kimma?"
"Weak. She's not likely to die, but she really can't be moved right
now." The Lieutenant's look of concern changed to one of hope. "There's
medication we can give her that will help, but we'll need to find it and boil
it for her, the sooner the better."
"All right." The captain stood up and turned back to the rest of the group.
The militiagungs were talking animatedly amongst themselves. Herns stood
off to one side, watching.
"So. What have the rest'n yousan decided?" Tarpals asked.
The Gungans stopped talking; after several furtive glances had been exchanged,
one said, "Stayin' wit' da Patrol." The rest nodded vigorously.
"Berry well." Tarpals swung on the remaining member of the group. "Herns?"
The rust-colored Gungan tilted his head up and scowled. Rell Iss, at the edge of
the group of Patrol riders, caught his eye. The younger Gungan jerked his head
toward the group, as if inviting Herns to join them. Herns broke eye contact and
turned his gaze to the humans.
Herns turned his gaze back to Tarpals. "They know about the maccaneeks
and their weapons?" he asked in High Gungan.
"Yes."
"And you expect to meet the maccaneeks again on the way to Tendesay?"
"Almost certainly," Tarpals replied steadily.
Herns peered down at the ground for a few heartbeats, then back up at the
captain. "Then I'm with you, too. I'm not running away again. This time
it's our turn to do some damage." Off to one side, Rell Iss offered him a
smile.
Tarpals nodded. "No more bullying, Corporal. We don't have time for it."
"Yes, sir." Herns drew himself up and saluted.
Tarpals returned it. "Just a moment." He walked around the group of Patrol
riders and militiagungs and approached the humans. "Rep Brand-ess, wesa
decided, but mesa wanted to ask yousa, too. Yousan all want to travel with ussan,
or sett out on yoursan own?"
Brandes exhaled in relief. "We're traveling with you, Captain. Thank you."
"Then wesan all decided," Tarpals stated.
"Um, not quite," Orrin piped up suddenly. "Wesa missin' a few. H'yané
an' Saché an' Edvic, deysa not he-ah." She craned her neck suddenly, as
did a number of the other Gungans. The three teens were running toward them;
each brandished a hand-blaster.
"All right, everyone stay where you are!" shouted Edvic in what Brandes
supposed was meant to be an authoritative voice. "Or we'll shoot!" He
waved the blaster back and forth, trying to cover them all at once. Yané and
Saché had halted behind him. The Gungans, the children, and Brandes all stared
first at them, then at each other. A couple of the militiagungs
snickered, and Brandes had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.
"My suppose iss better late then never," Tarpals remarked dryly.
Saché turned to Yané. "Do you get the feeling we missed something?"
"Yes, I do." The two Handmaidens lowered their weapons. Edvic, still trying
to look fierce, gestured with the gun.
"Everyone get away from the children," he commanded.
The Gungans stood looking at each other. Then Orrin jerked her head, and the
riders of the Third Mounted Patrol deliberately stepped between the teen and the
human youngsters. Edvic stared.
"Edvic," Brandes began.
"Minister, we've got the weapons—"
"I see that."
"And this would be a good time to strike out on our own!"
"No, it wouldn't," she said mildly.
A puzzled expression crept across Edvic's face. "Minister?"
"We've just finished discussing the matter – rather vigorously, I might
add—" here Brandes glanced sideways at Tarpals and Herns "—and we've
agreed that we're all going to Tendesay. Together. In one very large group."
"But –"
"Unless you want to walk there by yourself," Brandes added.
Edvic stared at her. Yané reached forward and nudged him with her knuckle. "I
think they've managed to settle this while we were busy elsewhere."
"But they can't – I mean – um –"
"Yousa might want'n put that down afore yousa shoot someone on h'axident,"
Tarpals suggested. Edvic, now looking thoroughly bewildered, lowered the
blaster. Everyone else relaxed.
The three teens looked at each other, as if coming to a non-verbal agreement.
Finally Saché stepped forward and offered the blaster grip-first to Tarpals.
"I'm sorry, Captain. We kind of raided your weapon stores."
The Gungan held up a hand. "Kipp it. Yousa gonna need it. An' yousa gonna
teach some of ussan how to use them properly." There were nods all around.
Several of the militiagungs were eyeing the weapons almost eagerly.
Tarpals turned to the group and beckoned everyone in. "Gott'n lotta work to
do, iff'n wesa going to be traveling to Tendesay. Peskis!"
"Sir?"
"Gett'n yoursa foragers together. Yousa start looking for what yousa need
for med'cine."
"Yes, sir!" The Ankuran beckoned to the human children. "Diss'a way,
all'n yous."
Tarpals turned back to the group. "Those of ussan who wass goin' to be doing
target practice, wesa continuing. For now, all'n yousan will work with these
three." He gestured at Saché, Yané and Edvic. "When yousa find out
which'n ussan iss able to use these weapons, yousa train them. Rest of ussan,
wesa kipp practicing with oursan own weapons. All'n the members of the group
that went to Splitrock, yousa going to go rest." He turned to eye Herns.
"Now! An' my don't want to see yousa 'till at least sunset." His gaze
caught Rell Iss's, and the young aide nodded. "Sentries, bekk on duty."
Several of the Gungans peeled away from the group and disappeared into the
brush.
"Wait!" called Brandes suddenly. "We're still missing one. Where's
Melni?"
