City of the Yeti Page 8

  An arrow whizzed through space from my left, missing the back of my head by a mere foot. It continued on to the right, where I heard a sickening crunch. Now I glanced to my right. A few yards away stood the older Hedjet warrior, his bow in hand. He’d been hiding behind a tall shrub, preparing to shoot me. Uruk’s arrow had punctured his neck, and now blood spurted out across his jacket. He couldn’t scream, given the wound, but fell backward, crashing onto some rocks. Uruk had saved my life.

  The giant finally whirled around, noticed me, and offered the biggest surprise yet. From his waistband he pulled out a revolver. The shock of seeing a gun in the hands of a Sramana delayed my reaction. Wasn’t this the species that shunned all weapons of modern human warfare? He fumbled with it, and I could tell that he had little, if any, experience with guns. Yet he managed to point the barrel in my general direction. Meanwhile, Uruk was taking too long to mount a second arrow; it seemed to be caught inside his leather pouch.

  I struggled to restore my aim, but it was harder now. My arms were tired, and sweat had dripped into my eyes. A whole second passed. I’m going to lose this duel, I concluded. While blinking to clear my vision, I heard a thunk, and then saw an arrow embedded in the giant’s chest. But it wasn’t my arrow, or Uruk’s. A voice behind me said, “Yes!”

  Stumbling, the giant groaned and fired his gun without really aiming. The bullet plowed harmlessly into the ground at his feet. However, the gun was still in his hand, and his arm rose again. This time I was ready, and released my own arrow. It pierced his shoulder, causing him to drop the gun. Uruk ran over to the campfire and killed the warrior with a knife. I turned rather than watch. Rachel let out an audible gasp and looked away.

  We were still in a daze when Uruk’s voice surged back. “Quick! Follow me. The others heard the gunshot. My horse is over there.”

  Rachel tossed aside the spare bow she’d found on the older warrior’s horse, and rode toward Uruk. I dismounted, stepped over the giant’s body, and grabbed the revolver off the ground. I slid the gun into a pocket on my saddle.

  Rachel yelled, “Danny, what are you doing? For God’s sake, hurry up!”

  As I rode to catch up, the events of the last few minutes replayed in my head. Something wasn’t right. If the Hedjet had such awesome power over humans – even the ability to cause heart attacks – then why hadn’t they used it, rather than rely on a bow or gun?

  The question would have to wait. The three of us headed down the path back to the city. It was dusk, and the trail was difficult to see. Uruk led the way, though at a slower pace than I wanted. I was about to ask why he’d come alone on such a dangerous mission, when I spotted his companions – several Deshret soldiers – perched on a ridge about one-fourth of a mile away.

  Next I heard the thunder of galloping horses behind us. An approaching dust cloud indicated the two remaining Hedjet warriors in pursuit. Uruk’s team sprung into action once they saw the situation. But the Hedjet were gaining rapidly; I could even see their faces, and they had their bows ready. Hadn’t Lothal claimed that the Hedjet couldn’t ride very well?

  Soon arrows whistled past us from behind. I shouted in English for Rachel and Uruk to hurry, and I knew Uruk wouldn’t need a translation. But driving the horses faster was a big mistake, given the rocky terrain in twilight. My horse stumbled and rolled forward, throwing me off. I flew through the air, but fortunately landed in some thick bushes. Still, my left foot hit the ground at a strange angle, and sharp pain shot up from my ankle.

  Unaware of my fall, Uruk and Rachel raced ahead. Seconds later, I heard Rachel shriek. She was still on her horse, though, and continued to ride. Uruk finally noticed my predicament, came to a full stop, and prepared for a last stand.

  The Hedjet warriors were nearly upon us, uttering a bizarre war cry – a sound I’d never heard from any living creature. They split up, leaving the trail in opposite directions. One warrior slung arrows at Uruk, while the other charged straight toward me.

  I couldn’t put any weight on my left leg, so I crawled over to my horse, which still lay on its side, thrashing about. Fortunately, the gun was accessible. I’d had little practice with a revolver, but certainly knew how to aim and pull the trigger. I tried to hide in the same bushes where I first landed, although they didn’t cover me completely.

  The warrior approached, his face contorted with rage. He drew another arrow and aimed at me. I had no time for reflection. I pointed my gun at the mounted figure and squeezed the trigger repeatedly until all the rounds went off. My ears pounded, and I was momentarily blinded from the flash. When the smoke cleared, the warrior lay on the ground. He wasn’t moving.

  The number of arrows whistling overhead now seemed impossibly large until I realized that Uruk’s team had arrived, with everyone firing at the remaining Hedjet warrior. Miraculously, he escaped, and rode off in a rapid retreat. The Deshret archers didn’t pursue him. It crossed my mind that he would live to tell of this incident, which might spark a civil war.

  For the moment, however, I was more worried about Rachel. Two Deshret soldiers rushed over to help her down from her horse. She was moaning. I kept calling her name, but she didn’t respond. Someone carried me over to where Rachel was laying on a patch of soft grass. I crawled to her side, dreading what I might find. I struggled to see in the fading light, and my stomach sank. A two-foot arrow had entered one side of her abdomen, with the shaft embedded halfway down its length.

  As I studied the wound, I heard Uruk’s voice, stating calmly, “The arrow pierced only the outermost inch of flesh. She will live.”

  But it seemed serious to me. We’d have to return to the mesa quickly for medical attention, whatever that might involve. I looked up at Uruk and focused my thoughts. “We need to pull this out!”

  “No,” he replied. “That could be dangerous. She might bleed even more. We must leave it in place for now.” Nevertheless, using strong hands and a firm grip, he broke off the two protruding ends of the arrow, so that she could be wrapped in a blanket. Rachel had become very quiet, and seemed to be in shock.

  Uruk walked up to me. “Can you ride?” His voice showed concern, without any of the hostility I’d detected earlier.

  “Yes, I think so,” I replied, grimacing.

  “We’ll have to travel at night, but I know this trail,” he said.

  Uruk helped me onto my horse so I could swing my good leg over the saddle. The soldiers carefully lifted Rachel and handed her to Uruk after he’d mounted his own horse. Still wrapped up, she now lay cradled across Uruk’s left arm and lap, leaving his right hand free to steer. He was making every effort to comfort her.

  As the night wore on, my left leg continued to ache, and I was dizzy from lack of food, water, and sleep. But I stayed next to Uruk, talking to Rachel. Sometimes she mumbled a few words; mostly she said nothing.

  A soldier rode alongside to offer me a canteen of drinking water, and I thanked him. Uruk watched carefully, and then said, “You two were very brave today.”

  “How did you know we’d been taken?” I asked between sips.

  “The sentry was suspicious of your little group, and checked on the visiting Hedjet families, neither of which had left, of course. He also sensed your feelings of concern. Later on, it wasn’t hard to follow the tracks of multiple horses.”

  As dawn broke, the clay walls of our mesa glowed on the horizon. Other Sramana streamed down to help after spotting the rescue party, and a horse-drawn wagon was brought to transport us over the final mile.

  Rachel looked dangerously pale in the morning light, and I blamed myself for her being here at all. I glanced down at the rash on my thumb from the Hedjet bowstring, and the powder marks on my hand from the gun. I couldn’t shake off some regret over the deaths of several Sramana; it didn’t matter what clan they belonged to, or even their intentions.

  On the outskirts of the city,
I passed out. It was a welcome relief.

  Chapter Twelve

  I woke up inside a hospital ward, though it looked more like the chapel of some medieval castle. The walls were constructed from huge blocks of gray stone, and sunlight filtered in through tall, narrow, stained glass windows.

  Metal-framed beds with thin mattresses were spaced evenly along one wall; wooden cabinets and porcelain water basins cluttered the opposite side. A small staff of Sramana doctors and nurses scurried about. Rachel and I lay on adjacent beds, the only patients in sight. Everything looked clean and organized, but I didn’t really expect the same standard of care that I’d find at my father’s hospital. I just hoped that their medical procedures would work on us.

  I glanced at Rachel. She was fully conscious and seemed in good spirits, even with an arrow fragment stuck in her side like a gruesome splinter. Two nurses gently cleaned her wound, while another examined me. My entire ankle region was blue and swollen. I gritted my teeth as they probed for broken bones.

  Before long, Nineveh showed up to check on us. As he approached, the nurses bowed slightly and stepped back out of respect, allowing him to enter the small space between our beds. It was nice to hear his voice again. “I was devastated to hear that you two had been kidnapped and then injured. Nothing like this has ever happened to our human guests.”

  Rachel groaned as they continued to inspect her wound. Nineveh gently stroked her arm and said, “Hold on just a bit longer. We’re preparing a potion that will ease your pain.”

  At a nearby table, doctors were cooking something in a brass vessel. They pulled bottles from the cabinets and added a variety of strange ingredients. It reminded me of witches preparing an evil brew.

  “What are they making?” I asked, unsure whether I really wanted to know.

  “It’s a mixture of special herbs,” he said. “The tiniest sip induces a deep sleep for several hours, during which time medical procedures can be performed.”

  I continued to stare at the cooks. The odors drifting over made me nervous. Was this potion intended for both of us? I decided I would pass if offered, and do my best to bear any discomfort.

  Nineveh went on to describe other medical accomplishments, probably because he knew my father was a doctor. “They are also preparing herbal mixtures that prevent infection. Those will be applied after the arrow’s shaft is removed.”

  Eventually the cooking was complete, and a small bowl was carried over on a tray, along with sponges, scalpels, and sutures. “It’s all quite routine and well tested, even on humans,” said one of the doctors. “We’ve used herbal medicines for thousands of years, and even exchanged information with human civilizations.”

  I expected the brew to look like thick tar, but instead the nurse held out a spoon with a clear liquid, and put it in Rachel’s mouth. She coughed a couple of times, and then gave me a surprised look. “Hey, there’s no taste!”

  Within a few minutes Rachel had dozed off. Nineveh seemed as relieved as me to see her resting peacefully. Another nurse applied a different potion to my ankle, but no one tried to put me to sleep. I asked the doctor to continue with his story of Sramana medicine; it distracted me from the procedure.

  “We first collaborated with the Chinese,” he said, “and the result was their Divine Farmer’s Classic of Herbalism, the oldest such text, listing thousands of species of herbs. We also interacted with a man named Sushruta, the founding father of Indian medicine, who discovered hundreds of natural drugs.” I’d heard of herbal medicine, but never seen it applied directly to Rachel or myself.

  So far, nothing seemed too frightening until a nurse walked up with a set of thin needles, each the width of a cat’s whisker and several inches long. She explained, “We’ve developed our own version of Chinese acupuncture. These will relieve your pain, and also speed your recovery.”

  The sight of needles shouldn’t have bothered me, being the son of a doctor, but I’d always hated shots. I held up my hand for the nurse to stop.

  “Let’s try just one,” she said, “to show you the result.”

  I turned my head, but could still see her aiming the needle at my upper calf, near the knee. “Wait! That’s too high!” I said. “How could that possibly help?”

  “You’ll see,” she replied. Another nurse approached and rested his strong hands on my shoulders, as if he expected me to leap from the bed.

  I felt a pinch as the needle entered, but no further pain, even as she twisted and pushed it deeper. The constant ache in my ankle faded dramatically, though not completely. Still, it was magical, and I looked down at my leg in disbelief. After that, I was willing to have a few more needles inserted.

  Nineveh walked around to the other side of Rachel’s bed, where doctors had already removed the arrow and were sewing up her wound. She remained asleep. He looked over at me and said, “She’ll be fine. I’ve seen worse wounds treated here, though on Sramana patients. However, neither of you will be able to travel for a couple of weeks.”

  “Now my parents will really be worried,” I said.

  “I’ll send another note by carrier pigeon to the Jang monastery, saying your departure has been delayed.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “But I still want our location kept a secret.” Nineveh nodded his appreciation.

  The nurses cleaned up and moved to the far end of the room. Nineveh and I were alone now, so I asked, “How will the Hedjet react to the fighting?”

  “I’m not sure. Bloodshed between the Deshret and Hedjet has been rare in recent centuries.” He stared out of a window overlooking the streets, and then continued, “As you know, the Hedjet are becoming desperate as their territory shrinks. Some of them may even try to overrun Deshret communities. In particular, they believe this city to be defensible against any human attack, and thus worth occupying. However, they are naive regarding the wave of destruction that humans can bring.”

  I felt a pang of guilt for what might happen. As usual, Nineveh seemed to sense my feelings, and switched to a more positive tone. “Nevertheless, we must push on for a reunion of clans. At least the visit by the two Hedjet families is going well, as did Uruk’s earlier travel to a Hedjet village.”

  “Speaking of Uruk,” I said, “he probably hated being sent on my rescue mission.”

  “Oh, you didn’t know? Uruk volunteered to go,” Nineveh replied. “Well, I’ll let you rest now.”

  Nineveh talked with the doctors for a while, and then started to leave. Suddenly Uruk entered the ward and approached our beds. The two towering Sramana acknowledged each other in passing with a slight nod. Their relationship seemed less strained than it had on the day of our arrival.

  Uruk walked up and stared at Rachel, who was still asleep. He touched her arm, as if to confirm she was alive, though he must have known her status. Then he glanced at me.

  “You’re looking better now,” he said. Uruk was one for few words.

  I couldn’t resist one question. “That revolver I used… it was my uncle’s, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. The night we found you in the cave, I took his gun, in case he went on a rampage later. It was stored here at the castle, until one of the Hedjet warriors stole it.” Lothal had been correct in suspecting the warriors as potential thieves.

  Uruk then pulled something from his coat pocket. In a large hand he held the two Ganesh statues we’d brought for luck. He gave one to me, and placed the other next to Rachel’s pillow. From another pocket he removed an amulet – a string holding a small piece of carved jade – and dropped it into my hand. It was shaped like an owl. I glanced up, puzzled.

  “This belonged to my son,” he said. “I’d like you to have it. You’ve shown great courage.”

  “Thank you. I like owls.”

  “Yes, I know,” he replied, offering the slightest hint of a smile – a dramatic display for Uruk. He gazed at
Rachel once more, and then strolled away.

  Later, our host family visited. Thankfully, Nineveh had filled them in on what happened, so we didn’t get a barrage of questions. Harappa ran over to sit beside Rachel, while Lothal gawked at the needles embedded in my calf.

  “Now you see what the Hedjet are capable of,” Lothal said. “We could never live together in peace.”

  Meanwhile, as if to counter Lothal’s remarks, Harappa described a pleasant afternoon she and her mother had spent with the visiting Hedjet families.

  I leaned back and sighed. It was all so human.

  Our wounds healed steadily, and before long we moved back in with our host family. I learned to use a pair of wooden crutches that were intended for small Sramana children. Rachel was able to walk around unassisted after about a week. Outside, the average daytime temperature was dropping rapidly. Light snow fell most days, dusting the town with its first winter decorations.

  After two weeks of recovery, I awoke one morning to an unexpected but familiar sound. It grew louder by the second. I limped out into the courtyard to see, but my view was limited by surrounding buildings. The sky was clear for the first time in days, following a series of minor storms. I looked up and waited for the sight that I knew would accompany this sound.

  Soon it appeared – unreal, out of place. A small, bi-winged, single-engine airplane roared over the city, flying at low altitude. It began to circle, and I could imagine the shock of the pilot – the first human to see this city from the air.

  Chapter Thirteen

  What would the pilot conclude? From above, nothing suggested more than a small city of humans. But we had to make sure. I went to the castle to find Nineveh, who’d already woken from the unusual noise. I proposed that we send a group of older children, dressed in jackets with hoods drawn, out into the central square. Being “only” six feet tall, they would look like human adults from a local tribe.