By the middle of the day they had reached the top of the hill again and looked down onto the ruined city. No-one spoke.
After a moment Brol turned to Sutek and said “Are you going to tell us where we must go next?”
Sutek’s mask looked blankly at Brol and he said nothing. Brol sighed and continued, “We should maybe camp here and head down there tomorrow.” The group dropped their packs and listlessly sat around. Brol looked out over the ruined city. There were still thin ribbons of smoke rising from several places, signifying the camps of other groups. The whole valley floor was a grey jumbled mass of fallen and smashed concrete from the original buildings, dotted here and there with bushes and the occasional scrawny tree where seeds had blown or been dropped. Movement beyond the city caught Brol’s eye. Something was flying high up at the limits of vision. He stood up, squinted, tried to focus better, but all he could make out was that the object was roughly cylindrical and did not appear to have flapping wings. Looking down he scanned the rubble for movement, but could see nothing. The hill dropped away below him, levelling out only at the very edge of the wreckage of the city; the buildings must have reached right to the foot of the ridge but not climbed up it. The hillside was steep and rough, but surely the Ancients could have levelled parts of it sufficiently to build on? Brol shook his head. Pointless to try to think like those strange long-dead builders. Near the bottom of the hill a smudge of smoke caught his eye. Someone was lighting a camp-fire. He estimated an hour or two to get down to where they were. Someone seemed to be moving about near it.
Sutek appeared to be in some sort of trance, looking fixedly away over the city. The others pointed out features and speculated about what the ruins may contain, both in terms of buried ancient artefacts and of modern inhabitants. Outlandish tales began to emerge, with Thok again pantomiming the frightening silver skeletons that he thought might be buried in the ruins and Vetch, more hopefully, suggesting that there might be some sort of caravanserai there where traders meet and exchange goods and stories and, especially, food might be available. The tales passed the time nicely and by night-fall the group had eaten their meagre rations and bedded down comfortably on a flat area of the hillside. Brol took first watch, and during that time Sutek shook off his trance and began to settle himself for sleep as if nothing had happened. When Brol awoke in the morning Sutek was once again standing still, and when Brol approached him said “They are near.”
Brol, not wanting to give Sutek the satisfaction of seeing him puzzled, said nothing and ate a few crumbs of biscuit from his pack. By the time the band had all breakfasted a group of travellers could be seen climbing the hill directly towards them. Brol studied them for a moment and asked Sutek, “Are these the ones you mentioned?”
Sutek looked at Brol for a moment then turned back to the approaching group. Brol turned away, irritated, and sat down to watch. By mid-day they were close and the group, as instructed by Brol, were sitting around casually in full view but with their weapons close to hand. As the strangers drew near Brol studied them. They were five in number and laboured up the hill, clearly breathing hard. They wore tattered clothing in a variety of drab colours; all except one wore extensive armour of beaten metal and most bore what appeared to be firearms. Two of them carried a sort of stretcher between them. As they came close Brol could see that the one without the armour wore a leash around its neck and that one of the others held the end. He felt distinctly uneasy at that, but saw that Sutek was not in the least perturbed and was preparing to greet them, wafting the end of his staff around in their direction. Vetch and Thok stood up and tried to look casual. Theodora Fane remained seated and pretended to look away over the city. Thok peered closely at them and after a moment appeared agitated, leaning over to Vetch, gesturing urgently and fingering the hoses implanted in his face, The five strangers stopped a safe distance away and held their weapons low, and the two carrying the stretcher put down their burden. Brol noticed that the one on the leash was not armed and was evidently a mutant, although his appearance was hard to divine under the battered hat pulled down low and the long patched coat, and that what had appeared to be a stretcher was a wooden box carried by poles through metal loops on the sides of the box. He also noted, to his surprise, that one or two of the newcomers appeared to have one or more limbs or at least extremities of metal.
Sutek spoke. “Horman Yarveck?”
One of the newcomers came forward. He pulled off his helmet and unplugged a hose from his nose. He was a tough looking man with a bald head and a beard, split on his cheek by a furrow where a scar crossed his face from eye to chin. He nodded, and Sutek made a gesture towards him with his staff. A look of annoyance followed by amusement passed over Yarveck’s face, to be replaced by his customary scowl. He nodded once and held out his hand. Sutek rummaged in his belt pouch for a long moment and took out two items. One was a leather tube, which he handed to Yarveck and Yarveck at once handed to one of the other men; the other was a small bag, which he dropped into Yarveck’s hand, and which the man at once opened and stirred the contents with a gloved finger before handing it to one of the others. He then handed Sutek an iron key, poked the tube back into one nostril, pulled his respirator back on, and stepped aside so that nothing stood between Sutek and the box. Sutek went forward and opened the box, not opening the lid fully and sticking his metal-masked head into the opening in a manner Brol found rather undignified. He stood up, nodded to Yarveck then froze for a moment, his head half turned towards the mutant held on a leash by one of the men. He walked, a little hesitantly, back to the group, and said to Brol in a voice unusually hollow, “Please take the box. Let us go from here.”
Vetch and Thok picked up the box on its carrying-poles, hesitating to pick it up until the men stood well back from it, and the group moved back up the hill. The others watched as they departed and the spiracles on Brol’s back itched as he expected a bullet to strike him down. However they were able to cross the crest and go on down the hill away from the city without incident. They carried on down the hill, occasionally changing who was carrying the box although Sutek did not offer to help. The box was not heavy but was of an awkward size, too large to be carried by one person. By dusk they were back at the edge of the road and pitched camp close by Akim Jart’s grave. Brol was tired, irritable and curious. As they sat by the fire he could contain himself no longer and said to Sutek, “So, what is it? Is it valuable?”
Vetch, hearing him, also spoke. “Yes. When do we get paid?”
Thok, hearing Vetch, nodded, his hoses bobbing, and gestured angrily from Vetch to Sutek.
Sutek looked at Brol for a moment and then spoke out. “More valuable than you can imagine, to the Trademaster at least. He will pay you well when we return to Tucamari.”
Brol pressed him. “And who were those people? Who was their captive?”
Vetch intervened. “Thok believes them to be some sort of machine-cultists. He was taken by similar when young and they began to work on him – “ he looked at Thok, who brandished his hoses - “before he could escape. They replaced damaged limbs with machine ones, and believed that they could enhance their abilities to that of the Ancients by doing that. That lot -” he pointed back the way they had come – “seem to me to be on the same lines.”
Sutek had had enough. He again regarded Brol then Vetch for a moment and said, “Those things are not your affair. Get me back to Tucamari; collect your pay; go on your way. That is all that need concern you.”
Fane, who had been hoping to be able to visit the ruined city and the encampments that appeared to be sited in the ruins, gave a snort and stood up, walking away from the group a short way before sitting down again.
The following day they made their way down the road, retracing their steps on the way back to Tucamari. In late afternoon evening they saw something travelling in the opposite direction, and at Sutek’s insistence moved off the road to avoid having to meet whatever it was. It turned out to be a trade caravan of half a dozen wagons. All were drawn by an assortment of creatures, and their main stock was water and dried foods. The first wagon contained armed guards, some dozing, some standing up in the swaying vehicle and looking around keenly. As the caravan approached a lively discussion broke out amongst the band and all except Sutek were in favour of trying to trade with the caravan. Walking alongside the wagons, which did not stop, Brol and Vetch were able to exchange their few coins for food and water. Sutek surprised them all by joining in and providing them all with fresh water and meat for that evening’s meal. Brol noted that one of the vehicles had a complex set of jointed boards hanging from its side, and on speaking to the driver was told that when unfolded and fastened together they formed a bridge that would stretch between the edge of the gully and the pillars which still stood.
The meal was eaten in almost complete silence. All were speculating on the contents of the box. During the night as the watch was changed every one of them looked long and hard at the box, but none gave in and went close to it.
From Dust:
Introduction
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-introduction.html
Prologue
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-prologue.html
Chapter 1 - The Trademaster
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-1---the-trademaster.html
Chapter 2 - The Wretched
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-2---the-wretched.html
Chapter 3 - The Device
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-3---the-device.html
Chapter 4 - Tucamari
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-4---tucamari.html
After a moment Brol turned to Sutek and said “Are you going to tell us where we must go next?”
Sutek’s mask looked blankly at Brol and he said nothing. Brol sighed and continued, “We should maybe camp here and head down there tomorrow.” The group dropped their packs and listlessly sat around. Brol looked out over the ruined city. There were still thin ribbons of smoke rising from several places, signifying the camps of other groups. The whole valley floor was a grey jumbled mass of fallen and smashed concrete from the original buildings, dotted here and there with bushes and the occasional scrawny tree where seeds had blown or been dropped. Movement beyond the city caught Brol’s eye. Something was flying high up at the limits of vision. He stood up, squinted, tried to focus better, but all he could make out was that the object was roughly cylindrical and did not appear to have flapping wings. Looking down he scanned the rubble for movement, but could see nothing. The hill dropped away below him, levelling out only at the very edge of the wreckage of the city; the buildings must have reached right to the foot of the ridge but not climbed up it. The hillside was steep and rough, but surely the Ancients could have levelled parts of it sufficiently to build on? Brol shook his head. Pointless to try to think like those strange long-dead builders. Near the bottom of the hill a smudge of smoke caught his eye. Someone was lighting a camp-fire. He estimated an hour or two to get down to where they were. Someone seemed to be moving about near it.
Sutek appeared to be in some sort of trance, looking fixedly away over the city. The others pointed out features and speculated about what the ruins may contain, both in terms of buried ancient artefacts and of modern inhabitants. Outlandish tales began to emerge, with Thok again pantomiming the frightening silver skeletons that he thought might be buried in the ruins and Vetch, more hopefully, suggesting that there might be some sort of caravanserai there where traders meet and exchange goods and stories and, especially, food might be available. The tales passed the time nicely and by night-fall the group had eaten their meagre rations and bedded down comfortably on a flat area of the hillside. Brol took first watch, and during that time Sutek shook off his trance and began to settle himself for sleep as if nothing had happened. When Brol awoke in the morning Sutek was once again standing still, and when Brol approached him said “They are near.”
Brol, not wanting to give Sutek the satisfaction of seeing him puzzled, said nothing and ate a few crumbs of biscuit from his pack. By the time the band had all breakfasted a group of travellers could be seen climbing the hill directly towards them. Brol studied them for a moment and asked Sutek, “Are these the ones you mentioned?”
Sutek looked at Brol for a moment then turned back to the approaching group. Brol turned away, irritated, and sat down to watch. By mid-day they were close and the group, as instructed by Brol, were sitting around casually in full view but with their weapons close to hand. As the strangers drew near Brol studied them. They were five in number and laboured up the hill, clearly breathing hard. They wore tattered clothing in a variety of drab colours; all except one wore extensive armour of beaten metal and most bore what appeared to be firearms. Two of them carried a sort of stretcher between them. As they came close Brol could see that the one without the armour wore a leash around its neck and that one of the others held the end. He felt distinctly uneasy at that, but saw that Sutek was not in the least perturbed and was preparing to greet them, wafting the end of his staff around in their direction. Vetch and Thok stood up and tried to look casual. Theodora Fane remained seated and pretended to look away over the city. Thok peered closely at them and after a moment appeared agitated, leaning over to Vetch, gesturing urgently and fingering the hoses implanted in his face, The five strangers stopped a safe distance away and held their weapons low, and the two carrying the stretcher put down their burden. Brol noticed that the one on the leash was not armed and was evidently a mutant, although his appearance was hard to divine under the battered hat pulled down low and the long patched coat, and that what had appeared to be a stretcher was a wooden box carried by poles through metal loops on the sides of the box. He also noted, to his surprise, that one or two of the newcomers appeared to have one or more limbs or at least extremities of metal.
Sutek spoke. “Horman Yarveck?”
One of the newcomers came forward. He pulled off his helmet and unplugged a hose from his nose. He was a tough looking man with a bald head and a beard, split on his cheek by a furrow where a scar crossed his face from eye to chin. He nodded, and Sutek made a gesture towards him with his staff. A look of annoyance followed by amusement passed over Yarveck’s face, to be replaced by his customary scowl. He nodded once and held out his hand. Sutek rummaged in his belt pouch for a long moment and took out two items. One was a leather tube, which he handed to Yarveck and Yarveck at once handed to one of the other men; the other was a small bag, which he dropped into Yarveck’s hand, and which the man at once opened and stirred the contents with a gloved finger before handing it to one of the others. He then handed Sutek an iron key, poked the tube back into one nostril, pulled his respirator back on, and stepped aside so that nothing stood between Sutek and the box. Sutek went forward and opened the box, not opening the lid fully and sticking his metal-masked head into the opening in a manner Brol found rather undignified. He stood up, nodded to Yarveck then froze for a moment, his head half turned towards the mutant held on a leash by one of the men. He walked, a little hesitantly, back to the group, and said to Brol in a voice unusually hollow, “Please take the box. Let us go from here.”
Vetch and Thok picked up the box on its carrying-poles, hesitating to pick it up until the men stood well back from it, and the group moved back up the hill. The others watched as they departed and the spiracles on Brol’s back itched as he expected a bullet to strike him down. However they were able to cross the crest and go on down the hill away from the city without incident. They carried on down the hill, occasionally changing who was carrying the box although Sutek did not offer to help. The box was not heavy but was of an awkward size, too large to be carried by one person. By dusk they were back at the edge of the road and pitched camp close by Akim Jart’s grave. Brol was tired, irritable and curious. As they sat by the fire he could contain himself no longer and said to Sutek, “So, what is it? Is it valuable?”
Vetch, hearing him, also spoke. “Yes. When do we get paid?”
Thok, hearing Vetch, nodded, his hoses bobbing, and gestured angrily from Vetch to Sutek.
Sutek looked at Brol for a moment and then spoke out. “More valuable than you can imagine, to the Trademaster at least. He will pay you well when we return to Tucamari.”
Brol pressed him. “And who were those people? Who was their captive?”
Vetch intervened. “Thok believes them to be some sort of machine-cultists. He was taken by similar when young and they began to work on him – “ he looked at Thok, who brandished his hoses - “before he could escape. They replaced damaged limbs with machine ones, and believed that they could enhance their abilities to that of the Ancients by doing that. That lot -” he pointed back the way they had come – “seem to me to be on the same lines.”
Sutek had had enough. He again regarded Brol then Vetch for a moment and said, “Those things are not your affair. Get me back to Tucamari; collect your pay; go on your way. That is all that need concern you.”
Fane, who had been hoping to be able to visit the ruined city and the encampments that appeared to be sited in the ruins, gave a snort and stood up, walking away from the group a short way before sitting down again.
The following day they made their way down the road, retracing their steps on the way back to Tucamari. In late afternoon evening they saw something travelling in the opposite direction, and at Sutek’s insistence moved off the road to avoid having to meet whatever it was. It turned out to be a trade caravan of half a dozen wagons. All were drawn by an assortment of creatures, and their main stock was water and dried foods. The first wagon contained armed guards, some dozing, some standing up in the swaying vehicle and looking around keenly. As the caravan approached a lively discussion broke out amongst the band and all except Sutek were in favour of trying to trade with the caravan. Walking alongside the wagons, which did not stop, Brol and Vetch were able to exchange their few coins for food and water. Sutek surprised them all by joining in and providing them all with fresh water and meat for that evening’s meal. Brol noted that one of the vehicles had a complex set of jointed boards hanging from its side, and on speaking to the driver was told that when unfolded and fastened together they formed a bridge that would stretch between the edge of the gully and the pillars which still stood.
The meal was eaten in almost complete silence. All were speculating on the contents of the box. During the night as the watch was changed every one of them looked long and hard at the box, but none gave in and went close to it.
From Dust:
Introduction
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-introduction.html
Prologue
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-prologue.html
Chapter 1 - The Trademaster
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-1---the-trademaster.html
Chapter 2 - The Wretched
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-2---the-wretched.html
Chapter 3 - The Device
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-3---the-device.html
Chapter 4 - Tucamari
http://www.spodilicious.com/from-dust-chapter-4---tucamari.html
