AT LAST after a month of writers block! Hehehe lost of plot hint and foreshadowing! Hehe new chapter coming soon hopefully cause its summer! Still haven't thought of a better title yet… its ninety degrees today ..in MAINE! YAY!
Get your freak on--- 23
Clue mentally argued with himself as he approached the marauder camp. Neither side of the argument had a valid point yet. Though one thing had made itself very clear to the wastelander, today was not meant to be a very good day. He rubbed the back of his gloved hand against the dried blood on his face.
He looked up and spotted a bronze skinned adolescent on the crest of a nearby dune. He looked bale fully down at the sand from his cross-legged post, melancholy playing with his cafe length red shorts.
Clue managed a slight smirk at the baleful marauder youth, and shook his head. He pursed his lips and let quick whistle pierce the air. The boy's head snapped toward him and he stumbled to his feet. The boy' sheer blonde hair winked in the sun as he scampered over the dune faster than a kanga rat.
"Won't be long now…." He side to himself as he guided his leaper between two rows of canvas tents splattered with red designs. He knew the large tents were nothing more than portable garages for the desert peoples, but he couldn't help feeling that the place seemed deserted. He reached the end of the long row of tents and found himself suddenly thrust into a maze of people and smaller tents.
The people had stopped and drawn aside, it wasn't every day some one just wandered into their home.
Clue looked over the clusters of small hut like brown canvas tents, each decorated in either light green, scarlet or deep plum colored designs up and down them. Cloths lines connected the tent houses at odd angles and various articles of bright dyed clothing hung on them in the scorching desert sun. He could just make out the top of one of the posts that he knew marked a very large well. The tents sprawled out as far as he could see in either direction from his vantage point on his leaper.
'Nothing has changed' he thought with a bit of despair.
"Es-ce tu qui!" Clue blinked at the sudden female voice that barked at him. He scanned the few dozen faces staring at him. They ranged from the old wrinkled sand worn faces of old ladies to the young bright-eyed facades of cocoa skinned goddesses and freckled red heads. All women and children, from the folded garments everywhere he had interrupted laundry day.
"Es-ce tu qui!" the voice barked again, he snapped his head toward the voice in the crowd. A middle-aged woman with a long golden braid stepped out of the crowd with a large blaster. Plum tattoos trailed down from her unnatural short pointed ears down to her neck.
Clue glared at the woman, he had completely zoned out, which he fully realized was not a very intelligent thing.
"Who are you!" the woman yelled in her native marauder language taking another
"I'm hear to… speak with your chieftain…" he said digging the language out of his memory banks. It had been a while.
The woman blinked her large green eyes at him; apparently, she had been expecting to shoot him before he answered. A small murmur ran throw the crowd of women.
"Your accent is horrible!" lean young woman with a dark complexion ventured to yell.
He grunted. It wasn't going to the marauder camp that was difficult it was getting out with out a bruised ego.
"Wait! Wait! Don't shoot!" a boys voice yelled from behind in the same quick paced desert tongue.
"I wasn't gonna shoot him!" the woman hollered over her shoulder at the fair hair boy clue had seen on the dune. He raced toward them followed by two men dressed in a black light weight uniform that revealed most of their upper chest, small pieces of metal stuck out here and there and could or could not have been armor.
As they approached, Clue swung himself off his leaper and held the reins tightly.
"That's the one!" the boy shouted to the guards " gave the whistle and every thing."
The crowd of women parted for the two black clad warriors. One had a dark complexion with head of darker tight curly hair and was a head taller than the other. The other was a sun glazed bronze color young man with deep brown eyes.
"What business do you believe you have here, in our desert?" the taller guard asked rather formally and full of himself.
Clue just stared at the warrior, he was not in the mood, "I want to speak with Kilik." He said slowly hoping the use of their chieftain's name would speed things up.
The shorter guard seemed to take offense, " what do you want with the chief!" he shouted drawing the large curved semytar at his waist.
Clue stared at the sharp blade shoved in front of his face. Clue reached into his shoulder holster and whipped out his small pistol. The short guard blinked his mahogany eyes at the whirling unfriendly glowing gun.
"Tell him his old buddy Clue is here for tea time," on hindsight, which is always twenty twenty, he would realize this was not the brightest thing to say nor the wittiest but at least he had for once not had such a horrible accent for a moment.
The small crowd had backed up and the two young guards stared at him for a moment. The guard saw what he thought might have been a deranged glint in Clue's eyes, and the large bloody smudge across his face didn't help the impression.
"You, wanna put the gun down, please?" the short one asked staring down the angry whirling gun barrel.
"He's ah... been expecting you…" the taller darker guard said a little uneasily. Wondering if this was even the correct person his chief wanted to see. How many people out there could really have that weird of a name?
Clue blinked his deep cobalt eyes at him from behind his red stained mask. The guards paused for a minute then beaconed him toward whatever destination he was intended for. The shorter guard took a position behind him and kept his gun drawn. As they left the laundry scene, the crowd returned to work as if none of it had ever happened.
He holstered the gun at his shoulder and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he followed the soldier. His mind still felt horrifically muddled still, and there was something in the marauder camp that always brought out something young and brash in him.
The guard led a windy path through the camp tents and towards the small-fortified island to south. He soon found himself across the rickety wooden bridges and inside the crude walls of the fortress. Led across the stone courtyard, pass two armored vehicles and toward a large steel door. The two guards took up positions on either side.
Clue heaved a deep sigh and confronted the familiar door, he dropped the leapers reins where he stood, it wouldn't get very far if it wandered off anyway. He pushed the door open with a creak and the leaper chirped an unwanted goodbye. The bright desert sun gave way to the cool interior and long narrow staircase. The Dim light of torches flickered up from below casting the steps in extreme light and darks. It was all too familiar for him. He felt that with every step he was coming closer and closer to his childhood. His mind was still running in circles and his resolve for his intended actions were weakening. He let one hand run against the rough stones as he stepped downward.
The palm and finger material was burnt away, his mind stopped its circling for moment wondered how it was that no one noticed. He fisted his hands and stepped down into the large dim room.
A large table ran across its narrow length, surrounded by small chairs and green, red and blue banners on the wall. At the far end of a table, a middle aged man stared down at the peppers in front of him.
"Kilik?" Clue manage to say. The man's head snapped up and pinned him with youthful mahogany eyes. Clue blinked at him. Kilik's short blonde hair was turning silver in his age, one long pointed ear was missing the tip, and the other donned a large gold ring. Crows feet marred his face and betrayed his youthful eyes and sharp features. Deep crimson tattoos scrolled down over his ears and down his neck.
"Well…" he said standing up straight and crossing his arms over his dark leather tunic, "wasn't expecting you for a couple more months…"
Clue shuffled his feet, Kilik had gotten old since the last time he had seen him and a bit of guilt washed over him, "I'm not here to visit the crypt,"
A half smirk played across the marauders sharp features, "so what happened to your face?" he said lightly as if old friends with bloody faces walked into his hall everyday. He leaned against the table with his arms still crossed business like.
"Precursor temple," Clue replied temperamentally, the chief marauder looked puzzled but asked no more.
Before the chief could continue the questioning, he sucked in his breath and asked the question he had come for, "Do you still have the package I left here?"
The tension in the room doubled.
"A promise is promise, no mater how old." The chief told him tactfully. Clue looked away. He felt like he was fifteen again and had been caught with his uncle's zoomer. "It's been awhile, I know," Was as much as an apology as he could muster.
"Humph," was the reserved answer, "alright," the older man looked about his papers and scribbled something down on one.
He held out the note to him, "give this to the guard on the way out," he said with a nod, "and if you see my dearly departed niece tell her uncle loves her."
Clue walked down along the length of the long table, and took the note. Kilik's eyes lingered on the tips of clue's gloves. Clue glared at him and snatched back his hand and the note quickly.
He snorted, "Nearly blew up my house," he mumbled absently in the more common language of the cities and folded the note.
The bright eyed chief snickered, "well, I'm not sure what you've gotten yourself into, but stay out of trouble." He said with the first hint of warmness since the conversation started. "Or at least far from here…"
Clue looked him square in the eyes and frowned, "There's trouble," he said solemnly, the marauder language had finally un-rusted itself in his brain, "its not just big smoke problems either." He watched the chief's face darken, "just stay out, no attacks, no plans, something's…." He paused not really sure what he was trying to say, "something big." He finished slowly.
Kilik gave him a questioning look.
Clue shrugged, "maybe the monks are right…."
Kilik frowned at the mention of the monks. The monks had betrayed the tribes once and as chief he wasn't to fond of them and their silly religion.
"Like I said, something big." He repeated and shrugged.
The man paused thoughtfully, " Heeki en tahl" he said with a nod.
Clue blinked at him, and found he could only nod. And then he turned and left, back up the long steps and into the sun with out another word.
Choco stood next to one of the guards attempting to get some affection from him while the guard tried vainly to shove the creature away. Clue yanked the naïve animal's reins and handed the dark guard his note. The marauder read it quickly and nodded at him, and led him to another dark room adjacent to the courtyard.
It was an old must store room, the guard opened the door and told him what he was looking for should be in the back. Clue nodded and returned a moment later with a small narrow chest. A large details lock hung from the latch.
"How are you gona open that?" the guard asked rhetorically noticing the lack of a keyhole on it or any other opening mechanism.
"Magic." Clue replied gruffly, attaching the chest to the leaper's saddlebag.
Clue ignored the guard and set about the time consuming task of properly adjusting the leaper's tact to compensate for the extra weight. The dried blood on his face was really starting to bother him but he tried to put it out of his mind, he ran a half gloved hand through his hair. He loosened the last buckle of the saddle with a small grunt and looked up at the guard. The guard's line of sight intently followed his left hand. Clue glared bloody murder at him, and slowly moved his hand up and then down, he watched the guard's eyes slowly follow the movement.
"Hey" the freak of a wastlander snapped at him, "what you looking at."
The guard stammered.
"That's," he said as he mounted the leaper, "what they all say."
The guard watched the leaper trot away in the happy mane that all leapers seemed to posses, "Blue freak…" he muttered ill temperedly and took his post back at the steel door.