Kitabı oku: «Elinor. The Deserted Valley. Book 1», sayfa 3
4
A sleepless night was making itself known, as morning turned out torturous and getting up had been a feat. Lamis rose first and went to get some water. When she drew back the canopy, stuffy air swept in as though the tent had been mistakenly put into a giant oven overnight and now burned ferociously. Jumanna quickly realized that today would be even hotter than yesterday.
The rest of the caravan’s population was coming around even slower than the children. The feeling was that there was no need to go anywhere today and a two-hour passage (probably at the peak of heat) would be far enough.
Breakfast passed in silence. Despite the sluggish actions of the caravanners, everyone understood they faced a tedious passage ahead of them. There was not a single person inside the tent who looked pleased at the prospect.
After breakfast was finished, some of the children parted. As usual, Makacash, typically the most energetic, ran away to kill scorpions, Astramed went to explore nature, and Calif took three strong boys with him to teach them fencing.
It is only he that brings me joy!
Looking around the tent, Mulaf collapsed onto the blankets and continued his morning sleep. Another younger pupil, looking at his older and lazier comrade, followed his example. Jumanna didn’t say anything. Several girls whispered quietly in a corner. Lamis took a book and began to read. It was meaningless to send them all out of the tent and pack it up without the command of the caravan.
Jumanna opened her diary. She took a feather and opened a jar of ink. Having dipped the sharp tip, she brought it over the paper and froze.
What should I write about?
She did not wish to talk about the fact that the caravanners, the warriors, and even an astronomer believed that a woman did not belong on such a journey.
What else can I write about? My sleepless night? About the responsible Calif? The lively Makacash? The inquisitive Astramed?
Jumanna was sinking into a reverie when suddenly the earth shook beneath her. A thick drop of ink fell onto the page and spread over it, distracting her thoughts.
What is happening?
The answer came in an instant.
“A scorpio – angler!” The air was filled with a piercing shriek.
Dropping the feather, Jumanna raced out of the tent as chaos ensued the camp. Camels bleated and floundered wildly as the ground shook. Sand flew in different directions, and beneath it the black body of a scorpio – angler had already emerged. It was absolutely enormous!
Once before Jumanna had seen a scorpio – angler, when she was young, and even that was from afar. Father, who would always protect her, had been nearby and quickly led her away. Although Jumanna had not seen the battle with the filthy creature, she knew what a small and a big scorpio – angler could look like from the stories told by her brother and old campaigners. This one was probably the largest that could exist in the world.
I thought scorpio – anglers aren’t found in the north of Kay – Samiluf.
But he appeared before Jumanna’s caravan! Her premonition had not deceived her.
Her brother’s stories hadn’t been told in vain. Jumanna knew that when a scorpio – angler attacked, you had to urgently look for elevation, or even better, a stone ridge. These monsters didn’t have eyes and felt the movements made on the sand. But if you found firm ground, you were saved! She looked around and to her joy, she saw one some two hundred steps away! Everything developed rapidly after that.
“Quick, get out!” She pulled the tent’s canopy aside, but quick-thinking Lamis was already pushing Mulaf, his companion, and the girls towards the exit. “To those stones! Run for all you’re worth!” Jumanna ordered, pointing at the ridge with her finger.
The boys ran fast by themselves, while Lamis literally dragged the girls along with her.
Jumanna’s eyes found Calif, who was driving about a dozen more kids toward the tent. She pointed him towards the stones. The young man understood her from first glance and nodded.
The scorpio – angler was now fully emerged, smashing people and camels with its deadly sting. Its terrible weapon circumscribed the arc and pierced Khatum Tangut. Jumanna immediately felt a lump in her throat as just yesterday she wished for some malicious incident to happen to him. Though she wished for something, she could never have imagined such a thing.
I must pull myself together! I can grieve for Tangut and reproach myself for damnation against him at some other time, not now!
In the chaos of the panic-stricken caravanners, Jumanna saw the young Makacash holding his childish sword forward, frozen in a fighting posture. Her heart sank. She believed he was about to charge at the scorpio – angler with the same rapidness he lashed out at its younger brother – scorpions. But fortunately, at that exact moment, the student turned toward her.
“Run! There, where the stones are!” Jumanna shouted at the top of her voice. Her cry merged with the roar that reigned around her. However, the boy understood his caretaker and with his usual speed, rushed to the other students.
Jumanna looked again at the ridge and quickly counted the people.
Twenty – two with Lamis… one is missing! Who? Astramed! Of course, Astramed!
For a long time, her eyes searched the surroundings where fear and panic triumphed, resting on a pile of white bales. Astramed was bent down under them, his head clasped in his hands. It was impossible to reach him with a cry so Jumanna rushed to the bales with full force. Two strong men, the soldiers of Khallan, fled towards her, nearly knocking her over. The warriors rushed away from imminent death while she ran directly toward it; to where a deadly sting was dissecting the air. Jumanna grabbed the child’s hand as he instantly recovered from his petrifying fear. She pulled him to the grey ridge of rocks with all her might, as an inner voice prompted her to duck. Jumanna pushed the boy forward and then fell to the ground herself. The tail of the scorpio – angler whistled right above her head and met the body of a fat camel. The animal roared with pain and immediately fell silent. The torment didn’t last long. Holding Astramed’s hand, Jumanna rushed forward to the lifesaving stones. She had a stitch in her side, her breathing was uneven, and hot air burned her lungs. Astramed breathed even more heavily as the scorpio-angler was finishing off the caravan amidst the sounds of retreating battle.
Jumanna gave the student a leg up and then climbed onto the rocks herself as Calif’s strong hands grabbed and lifted her without a problem. After that, she fell limply onto her back, inhaling several deep breaths.
She closed her eyes and sank into a trance. Maybe she lost consciousness. But not for long.
The young woman shuddered and woke up. After a while she was able to raise herself on her elbows and see what had become of the caravan. The commotion had subsided, but Jumanna could not see a living thing.
Where are the people who had wanted to escape by fleeing?
No one could be seen… only the corpses of caravanners and camels. The scorpio-angler himself had also fallen to his side. Near his jaws lay the carcass of a desert elephant. Lamis said that the animal had either become mad with fear or, on the contrary, having gained courage, simply took off and rammed itself into the scorpio-angler’s head. The elephant was dead, but whether the scorpio-angler was actually dead was a big question. Jumanna knew that these monsters were incredibly tenacious. Perhaps it was just tired and resting. Perhaps it had decided to postpone its planned meal for the evening.
Silently, they sat on the rocks under the scorching sun and when it seemed safe, moved into the shadow which roamed around the ridge. A malodorous stink whiffed from recent battle scene.
Finally, dusk had fallen. Dew fell on the boulders, which had saved the lives of the Academy’s students. Jumanna showed everyone how to collect moisture from the rocks using one’s lips, just as Father taught her. If it hadn’t been for him, with all probability, Jumanna and her students were destined to have died of thirst that very night.
Darkness fell. The stars were luminous in the sky. Darkness reigned near the gigantic silhouette of the scorpio-angler. The monster did not ignite the deadly light on its tail. This meant only one thing – the scorpio-angler was dead!
Jumanna descended from the rocks and overcoming her fear, went around the terrible place. Her head was spinning, and she felt a lump rising in throat. But she had to hold on. Dead camels… Dead people… And then Jumanna heard a hoarse voice! She rushed to the sound. The astronomer Umal Al-Dassay lay crushed under the corpse of a camel. The young woman tried to get him out, to no avail. She thought of calling Calif and a couple more of the boys, but the old man stopped her.
“Leave it, it is needless… I don’t have long…” Jumanna was silent. She didn’t know what to say.
“Forgive me… Forgive all of us!” Al-Dassay continued. “We were wrong. Experienced caravanners have been killed… Warriors… And you survived and saved the lives of your students. You… You are a wonderful caretaker.”
“What should I do now?” Jumanna asked almost inaudibly. “You are in charge now, so you must decide… " the old man croaked and rolled his eyes upward. “Look!” His tone changed dramatically. “The constellation of the Lion!”
Jumanna lifted her head upward. Indeed, just above her shone the constellation of the Lion.
The constellation of the Lion. The Marawie Star, which pointed the way to the migrants from the north during their dangerous passage from the Valley. But what did the astronomer mean?
And then it dawned on Jumanna! How could she? She was so proud of her knowledge of astronomy, yet she hadn’t noticed the elementary changes in the sky! Even yesterday, when she had been fascinated by Jumann Khayat.
Perhaps the increased attention from the male-caravanners and the reminders that this journey had no place for a woman had confused her and forced her to forget the basics of astronomy for a while.
Of course. After all, there was another astronomer… a real astronomer!
But he had been mistaken!
The month of the Camel has already come and, relative to the road from Kay-Samiluf to Ayno-Suf, the constellation of the Lion should have been significantly more towards to the east!
“Have we gone off the track?” though it sounded like a question, it was actually a statement.
“Forgive me… forgive me once more,” The astronomer’s voice began to weaken again. “Ah, anility… I confused the cards. I killed everyone! On the road to Ayno-Suf there are no scorpio-anglers, and I took you into the depths of the desert…”
Damn it! That’s all there is to life experience! All the wisdom!
Jumanna was no longer worried about the fatal error of the scattered astronomer. She ran her finger along the starry sky, measured the way to the north of the constellation of the Lion, where the Star of the Marawie, the brightest in the constellation, sent its rays.
“But if we go to the northeast we can reach Muo. We’d find ourselves in the Valley by coming out onto the Dalaal path!”
“You are a good astronomer. You will manage to lead a caravan better than I have.” It was the last thing Umal Al-Dassay said.
5
Jumanna returned to her students about half an hour later. Everyone was asleep, even Lamis. Only Calif had waited up for her. Jumanna handed him a few flasks of water and a saber.
She had unbuckled the flasks from the belts of the dead. It was terribly disgusting, but she had to restrain her feelings, for one cannot survive in the rough desert otherwise.
Jumanna had taken the saber from the belt of Khallan. He hadn’t even had time to take the weapon in his hands. A sting had pierced him from the back as he was trying to flee. Even touching his stuff felt nasty! What a truly unworthy person! But the steel of the blade was painfully good, and a weapon was a necessity.
Jumanna’s father hired a fencing master for her in Min-Mirif. Later, while studying at the Observatory, she took lessons herself. But that had been more for the sake of interest. She never imagined that one day she would take the handle of a saber in traveling conditions.
It will be a blessing if on the road to the Valley I won’t need to use Khallan’s blade!
Jumanna counted the corpses. Khallan, ten of his warriors, fifteen caravanners, and seven merchants, including Khatum Tangut and Umal Al-Dassay. No one else had survived. She found the two warriors who fled and nearly knocked her over a little farther from the place of slaughter. They had managed to distance themselves from the deadly sting, but, like the astronomer, were crushed by the body of a camel that collapsed on top of them.
By now she no longer felt any disgust while retrieving their weapons. It is necessary! Jumanna thought, searching the lifeless bodies.
After returning to the rocks, she immediately fell asleep. Surprisingly, this time, dreams struck her in an instant; no nightmares haunted her. Everyone awoke at sunrise. The sun began to bear down, or, to be more precise, burn up the air.
Jumanna, along with Lamis and Calif, returned to the place of slaughter. They began to search the surviving trunks. Calif found a saber for himself and parted with his harmless training weapon. Jumanna decided it was too early for the other children to look at such scenery. However, a few minutes later, Makacash could no longer resist the temptation and rushed to help them. The sight of the corpses of people and animals did not frighten him at all. Nothing was left of their tent. However, on the spot where it had stood, Jumanna found her diary and the only surviving book – the first volume of “Travel to the Skies” by Azir Amunjadee.
They managed to save a solid piece of dense fabric, from which the boys made a canopy on the stones to hide from the sun. Without any superfluous conversations, everyone got busy working; even Mulaf did not shirk. By noon, all the useful belongings were transferred to the stones. Their food supplies would last them a week or two, but their water supply was not sufficient. Jumanna counted the empty flasks and gave the students the task of collecting dew from the stones in the evening, so they could fill everything.
“Try to squeeze the stones, because we need full flasks!” she commanded in such an imperious voice that she surprised even herself.
Of course, she knew that with evening dew, you could hardly fill a sixth of a small wineskin. But to tell the children this would bring them into a state of despair.
It’s better for them to be motivated!
Then there was a short conversation with Lamis. It was necessary to understand where to next lead the group. Not that Lamis was any good at this, but Jumanna needed someone mature to talk to. The fact that the decision had to be made by her alone was unavoidable.
Jumanna was on the brink of turning back. However, after delving into the maps, she realized it would be easier to reach Muo, a city in the southeast of the Valley, than return to Kay-Samiluf or to try to return to the Ayno-Suf path.
Their salvation lay in the north!
Salvation in the north…hmm… The book of Azir Amunjadee. Only the first volume survived. In it, the text speaks about the Ito Empire. The Ito Empire! The north! It’s probably silly to think in this way… it’s just a coincidence. But, again, my foreboding! It tells me this is no accident. It’s as though an unknown powerful force is leading me in the right direction.
The sun had passed the zenith and the children fit under the tiny shadow of the handmade awning. They kept close together as there wasn’t much room. A couple of girls cried quietly, desperately wanting to return to their mothers. The older girl tried in vain to cheer them up. Moualdar also babbled something parent-related to himself, but it seemed more out of habit than from fear. Jumanna noticed that the other students seemed to be glaring avidly into her eyes and waiting for her decisions. Loyalty, devotion, and readiness followed wherever she commanded – that was what she read in those eyes. Only at that moment did Jumanna understand what exactly she had done for her students.
“In the evening, we are setting off to Muo!” she announced, now no longer just the caretaker, but also the head of the caravan, the astronomer, and the commander of the warriors.
The warriors, as such, were absent, really. It was only Calif and the restless Makacash, but what were such warriors against the scorpio-anglers and sand dragons? And what is a caravan in the desert without camels?
A doomed caravan.
But Jumanna pulled herself together and immediately drove away the black thoughts.
6
They slept until evening. As soon as the sun set, they filled the flasks with water and set off towards the northeast, in the direction of the rays of the Star of the Marawie in the constellation of the Lion.
Jumanna was strict: the procession would walk only at night! Firstly, it was easier for her to navigate the stars, secondly, a longer distance could be covered. Crossing the desert with children during the day could end very badly. And, thirdly, it would be easier to distinguish scorpio-anglers at night! With the onset of twilight, the scorpio-anglers got out of the sand, and the light the monsters lit on their sting was visible from afar. On the other hand, at night it was easier to fall into the underground cave of a sand dragon.
Jumanna led the procession. Behind her trotted the deft boys, encouraged by Makacash. Calif walked in the middle, holding his new sword on his shoulder, ready for battle. Lamis and the other girls closed the procession. They constantly lagged behind. As a result, Calif had to take the baby Munu-Aiya on his shoulders and with that, the group went a little faster.
At night, the desert filled with sounds. Insects came out of their hidden holes and filled the boundless space with their buzzing. Astramed, with an intelligent look on his face, distinguished each sound and identified each insect: a cicada, a rattler, a desert mosquito, a blowfly, a sand eater.
The caretaker moved progressively at a controlled pace, but at a certain moment she was overcome with turmoil. She felt pressure on her shoulders, pressure that grew stronger and stronger with every step. This inner voice that had tanged yesterday about their impending doom now got louder. It was as though the inner voice was dampening the other voice, the one commanding to fight until the end and move towards their goal. At some point, the voice of doom filled her whole consciousness, and she was ready to surrender, powerlessly collapse into the sand and accept fate. But when she turned to look back, in the flickering starlight she caught a glimpse of the faces of twenty-three people. For each of them, even for Calif, this passage was even harder than for her. For them, she, who was ahead, remained the only hope.
“If you give up, you will ruin them and ruin yourself!” a more confident voice now sounded in her head, opposing the voice of despair. It reminded Jumanna of her father’s voice.
The dawn’s rays highlighted the outline of a new stone ridge. Fortune favored the travelers!
They collected the morning dew, put up their makeshift cover, ate, drank water, and went to bed before the sun began to scorch the Great Desert. Jumanna looked at the students as everyone fell asleep. Then she sat on a rock, clasped her hands on her knees, leaned her head against them and sobbed violently.
The last time she had cried was when she turned eighteen years old.
7
That night there was another march. It was becoming harder. The moisture from the dew was negligible and the flasks were empty. The water had to be saved.
The girls began to be more erratic; the boys mumbled under their breath. The pupils perked up when Jumanna reprimanded them angrily.
“We’re in the desert! In the desert, do you understand? If you barely drag your feet, you face death! You can cry, but it won’t help! Walk on! Walk as quickly as possible – this is our only salvation!”
It was dawn, but this time there was no rocky shelter. A rag canopy had to be established right on the sand. Sleep was torturous! Everyone was thirsty, but their water supply was decreasing further and further.
When the evening twilight came, the students who had nervously tossed about in the afternoon finally fell asleep together. Even Calif succumbed to it. His strength, bravery, and height helped Jumanna forget that he was only sixteen.
She left the canopy and climbed to the high barchans to contemplate the endless expanse, and as she had done eighteen years ago, plunged into the black abyss. Feeling alone in the universe as the bright Star of Marawie infused hope inside of her, Jumanna took hold of the chain with the pearl and golden key.
“Father,” she whispered. “Where are you now? I feel that that place is somewhere far away… not with Itoshins, not with Vedichs, but there, among the distant stars. Help me! Help me, oh stars! Give me and my students the strength we need. Help us, Star of the Marawie, the brightest star of the south! Help me, the ancient hero of the legends! Help, Sand Lion! Once you brought our people out of the Valley, and now help us return there! I, your descendant, Jumanna Inaiya Khaniya Amatt, I beg you of this!”
And it seemed that the star winked at her, for a moment flashing many times brighter.
A trick of the senses, or not?
She had gotten too carried away and was daydreaming, as a fatigue like none before manifested itself in her body.
Jumanna did not remember how she returned to the students and fell asleep.
She woke up with the first rays of dawn, these rays outlining a new stone ridge in the distance. It was a bit off their route, but it was necessary to get to the ridge by evening to fill the flasks with dew.
