'Naturally.' Kheda opened the door to the stern cabin. By the time he had gone down to the stern hold and retrieved a scabbarded sword as well as a wide-ended hacking blade and a brass water flask with a braided strap, Velindre had guided the Zaise into the narrow channel pinched between the main river and a long, low island strewn with flood-tumbled boulders.
Risala was on the main deck, leaning over the rail to look at the mud below the sharply undercut bank. 'How solid do you suppose that is?'
Kheda allowed himself a moment to admire the smooth brown curve of her naked back before looking up at Naldeth on the stern platform. 'I take it you'll pull us out if we sink?'
'I should be able to do that without magic' The young mage waved a coil of rope.
'I'll go first.' Kheda swung his legs over the Zaise 's rail and pushed himself off the ship's side as hard as he could. He landed where silty water lapped the mud bank and his feet sank a little. The river water was cool around his feet, though it had an unsavoury stagnant smell.
'I think it'll hold us.' Risala jumped and Kheda caught her shoulders to steady her as she landed.
'You don't have to come with me,' he said quietly. 'You could stay safe on the ship.'
'Where's safe, out here?' She gripped the long handle of the hacking blade in its sewn-leather sleeve. 'I'll be safer with you if some wild wizard or dragon comes looking for them.' She jerked her head back at the Zaise.
'True enough.' Kheda found he could barely see the ship through the shimmering distortions Naldeth's magic was wrapping around it. Trying made him feel nauseous, so he turned his back on the disquieting sight. 'Let's get to solid ground.'
He picked his way carefully to the grassy bank, testing each step on the mud. Risala walked carefully in his footprints. He felt thirsty but realised that was only apprehension drying his mouth. Chest-high, the lip of the bank was sharply undercut and the edge crumbled as Kheda tried to pull himself up onto solid ground.
'Here.' Risala braced herself on one knee and offered her cupped hands as a step. With that slight advantage, Kheda managed to haul himself properly ashore. Kneeling, he turned to reach a hand down to pull Risala up. The two of them crouched in the colourless dry grass as something not too far away fled with a rushing rustle.
'Where's that fire?' Kheda stood cautiously upright and looked for the smudge of smoke in the distance. It was thicker now, rising from several points to mingle in a pale-grey line tattered by the breeze coming in off the sea.
'It's heading away from us,' Risala observed.
'Then let's catch up a little,' Kheda said resolutely.
He used his scabbarded sword to push aside the chest-high grasses. Growing in thick clumps, their stems were green at the base but soon bleached to creamy yellow by the merciless sun. The dry blades were coarse and sharp-edged, not quite drawing blood but leaving his bare legs sore all the same. There was seldom room enough between the clumps to take a step without wiry tendrils poking
painfully into his feet. Risala tucked herself close in behind him, intermittently biting back a mutter of discomfort. Trying to keep the line of rising smoke in sight, Kheda tripped as he found a narrow path worn through the dense grasses. Risala stumbled into him and he caught her arm with his free hand.
'What do you suppose made this?' She looked towards the smoke and then back towards the river where the Zaise should be.
'Men or animals.' Kheda gauged the line that the path took inland across the floodplain. 'If we follow this and then cut across the grass when we get closer to those fires, we can lose ourselves in the shadows of the trees.' He couldn't help glancing back towards the river but could see nothing beyond a punishing glare on the water.
They could move more quickly on this clearer path, narrow though it was. It crisscrossed other equally thin paths worn through the thick grasses. Sweating freely now, Kheda took a drink from the water flask and passed it to Risala. She gratefully took a mouthful and handed it back. Soon he could smell the burning as well as see the smoke and slowed, half-crouching so that the frayed tips of the grasses swayed above his head.
'What can you see?' Risala was looking to either side and back down the path lest anything was watching them.
'Savages,' Kheda said, resigned.
Two lines of dark-skinned men were working together, either naked or clad in scant leather loincloths. They were walking behind the slowly advancing fires, flailing bundles of twigs to make sure the fire didn't run riot instead of following the paths they desired for it. Men with clubs and spears were further away, spread out in the sallow unburned grasses. Their raised weapons were black outlines against the grey-white smoke as they searched the ground for prey fleeing the flames.
'Can you see anyone who might be a mage?' whispered Risala.
'No,' Kheda replied softly, 'but I can't see much at this distance.'
The wild men moved across the lengthening black scars burned into the grassy plain, billows of smoke swirling around them.
What are they hunting?
As he wondered, a great cry went up. The wild men ran after some creature racing towards some illusory sanctuary of unburned grass. Clubs swept back and smashed down. Arms raising long spears thrust hard into the melee.
Whatever it is, it's fighting back.
Kheda saw men reeling away from the fray. As the wind twisted to carry the sounds of battle over the grasses, wordless cries of passion and determination mingled with a tearing sound somewhere between a hiss and a screech.
The group of wild men suddenly broke apart with cries of anguish. Something came racing through the dense grasses, charging through the barrier of the flames. One of the savages who'd been tending the fires tried to intercept whatever it was, a spear raised high above his head. Whatever it was bowled him over, flinging him up so high that his bare legs spun higher than his head before he crashed back down to the ground. Then whatever it was attacked the hapless hunter where he lay. The grasses thrashed violently as his gurgling despair was lost beneath that eerie tearing screech.
Kheda drew his sword and took firm hold of Risala's wrist with his other hand. 'If it comes this way, we just get out of its path.' He could feel her trembling, her skin slick with sweat.
As the hunters raced to their fallen comrade, shouting and waving their spears, the unseen creature fled. It came running towards Kheda and Risala, the thud of its feet
breaking through the frenzied rustle of the grass. As it burst out onto the narrow track a perilously short distance away, it froze, staring at them. It was a lizard, as long as a tall man from its blunt nose to the end of its heavy tail. Its head and back were armoured with solid yellow-brown scales, with still thicker scales running down the length of its body to make black horny ridges. Its lashing tail was flattened from top to bottom and saw-edged with vicious plates stained with blood and dirt. Digging its clawed feet into the parched earth, it hissed, a bubbling sound with its jaw gaping. Kheda saw speckled yellow skin inside its maw and stained white teeth, stubby and broad. Strands of dirty green drool hung from the corners of its wide mouth.
Not a whip lizard. I've never seen anything like it.
Kheda kept Risala behind him and held his sword low and ready, the braided silk binding the hilt drawing the sweat from his palm.
The creature hissed again and lurched away from them, crashing through the brittle grasses on wide-splayed legs as it headed towards the river.
'Kheda.' Risala resheathed the blade she had half-drawn and shook his shoulder urgently as he was still trying to see where the lizard had gone.
He looked back to see the savages gathering together, beating out their fires. Some bent over prey or casualties; others were gesturing and shouting self-importantly. A few were standing idle, leaning on spears or resting their clubs over their shoulders. Torn by the breeze, their quarrelsome words were unintelligible.