Renegade of Callisto
- Автор: Картер Лин Спрэг
- Серия: Callisto #8
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Renegade of Callisto». Краткое содержание книги:
Far from his adopted home, the Golden City of Shondakor, Koja, self-exiled insectoid of the Yathoon Horde, has blundered into the savage land he had renounced, accompanied only by little Taran, ward of Prince Jandar. Lost in the treacherous scarlet plains, the two are hurled to separate, unnamable fates —Taran forsaken in shackles, along with the lovely Princess Xara, while the renegade Koja is locked on a perilous course of vengeance for the evils done to his clan. All destinies collide at the Great Yathoon Games in the hidden valley of Sargol — the impenetrable citadel girdled by a seething mote of flames.
In the spine-tingling tradition of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Lin Carter again transports us to a strange and sublime landscape pulsating with the flash of swords, secret splendors, and ever-lurking danger.
As for the caravan, it simply disintegrated, the warriors riding off in any direction―as long as it was not in the direction from which the herds came thundering―without a moment’s thought or hesitation.
The glymphs trumpeted in elephantine alarm and galloped off on their own, dragging their heavy wains behind them.
The thundering hooves were very near now, and the air darkened as immense clouds of dust veiled the sky.
The wain in which Koja and the others were chained was being dragged behind a team of panicky runaway glymphs. The Yathoon driver had leaped from the front of the wain and vanished in the whirling dust.
Bumping along over the swishing grasses, the wain began to strike against rocks, for the land was rising here into low, rocky hills. One such collision smashed a wheel to flying fragments; then the axle shattered against another boulder, and the wain began to break apart. The wooden guard-rail which ran around the sides of the wain, to which the captives were helplessly roped, also came apart, shattering into several pieces from the impact of collision with the boulder.
Koja knew nothing. Then, a moment later, he found himself lying on the grass, his tether fastened to a stump of wood. He was groggy but unharmed, and realized that he had been thrown clear when the wain had broken apart.
But where were his friends
He came to his feet, peering around through the dust, but saw no one. Here and there he spotted a fragment of the wain, but naught else. And the foremost of the stampeding vanths were almost upon him. Another moment and he would be a mangled thing, beaten into pulp beneath a thousand thudding hooves.
But there, just ahead, was the huge boulder into which the unruly glymphs had dragged the wain in their mad flight. It was nearly as tall as a man, and might afford him a momentary respite. He sprang agilely upon its crest. And then the herd was upon him, like a savage sea, waves of squealing, wild-eyed vanth curling about the sides of the great rock. Deafened by the tumult, blinded by the whirling dust which suddenly turned day into night, he reeled and fell―
―And found himself astride the back of a great bull vanth, legs locked instinctively about the beast’s barrel, clinging for life itself to the branching antlers of its staglike crestl
Scarcely noticing its rider, the vanth hurtled forward.
Then, out of the seething murk of darkness, a tall, gaunt figure staggered into view, directly in the path of the charging vanth to whose back Koja clung.
Swifter than thought itself he recognized the figure as that of Borak. It lurched, stumbling, into the path of the vanth and raised its arms. Momentarily diverted, the vanth veered to one side, narrowly missing the Yathoon. Without conscious volition, Koja bentcaught Borak by the arm-drew him up astride the charging bull.
They clung together, dust-covered, deafened, and blinded, unable to think or to speak.
Moments later their exhausted beast foundered among the rocky hills. As they tumbled clear, it fell on one side, vanishing beneath the driving hooves of the beasts close-packed behind it.
The two warriors clambered to the peak of the hill and lay there, panting. All about them and to every side a dust-gray sea of exhausted beasts raced by. Many staggered and fell, to be trampled to a pulp in moments. Others showed red, glazed eyeballs, tongues lolling, mouths flecked with foam; soon they, too, would fall to be trodden down by those behind them.
And then, almost as swiftly as it had broken upon them, the storm passed. Suddenly, with magical swiftness, the herd melted away and was gone, dwindling across the plain. Koja and Borak stood, peering through the dusty murk; the plain was naught but bare, trampled earth as far as either of them could see. They could no longer discern the wreckage of the wain, nor any sign of man. Here and there, like driftwood cast up by a freak swirling of the tide, the carcass of a dead beast lay in its gory ruin.
The thundering of thousands of hooves faded into the distance.
Gradually, the thick mantle of dust, swept away by the wind, cleared from the golden sky.
The stampede had come and gone, and they were miraculously unhurt.
But―what of their comrades?
Borak, doubtless, felt little concern for their whereabouts or safety, viewing their demise with the cold indifference of his stolid kind. But a poignant pang of sorrow and of sharp loss pierced the less armored breast of Koja at the thought of young Taran or fair Xara trampled to death under the flying hooves of the vanth.
But dead they were, must be, along with all of the Clan that had captured them …
Suddenly there appeared, riding across the beaten earth of the denuded plain, a line of tall huntsmen of the Yathoon, mounted on thaptors.
Koja and Borak would have concealed themselves to elude discovery, but already it was too late. Nocked arrows were pointed in their direction, and riders were already detaching themselves from the line to gallop forward and take them prisoner.
Out of the frying fan and into the fire is a phrase uniquely terrestrial in its connotations, but the sense of it would have been readily obvious to Koja, under the present circumstances. With the stoic indifference of his kind, he stood tall with his head high, arms folded upon his mighty breast, awaiting capture. Flight was a folly and escape an impossibility, and to have fought with bare hands would have been suicidal.
The Yathoon huntsmen came riding up to the foot of the hill whereon the two comrades stood. Dismounting, the hunters ascended the slope to secure their captives.
And Koja was never so surprised in all of his life as when the huntsmen knelt before him to lay their swords at his feet.
13 Duel to the Death
The huntsmen whom Koja and Borak so dramatically encountered were a party of the Kandar Clan. This Koja knew instantly, for he recognized their tribal markings. What he did not at once grasp was the reason for the welcome afforded him, which was, to say the least, unexpectedly hospitable.
The leader of the hunting party he also recognized, one Izon, who had been a cadet in Koja’s own retinue, but who now, it seemed, belonged to the retinue of a rival chieftain named Gamchan.
Izon assisted Koja and Borak to fresh mounts, apparently taking it for granted that Koja wished to be escorted back to the encampment of the Horde. Koja wisely kept his silence; it would seem obvious that many changes had taken place in the Clan leadership since he had last been seated in its councils.
As for Borak, he took his cue from Koja and turned an impassive face to all of these things, saying nothing.
“It has been long since last we met, Izon,” observed Koja as they rode from the trampled field. “How did you come to belong to the retinue of Gamchan?”
“When you were captured by the flying ships, my komor, the chieftain Gamchan laid instant claim to your trove. Since none cared to challenge him, all that my komor had possessed, as well as all of those who had once followed him into battle, soon came under the chieftaincy of Gamchan.”
“I see,” mused Koja grimly. He well remembered the villainous Gamchan, his most jealous and treacherous rival in the Clan. The other had been second only to Koja in wealth, authority, and prestige, and had long desired to be first. Evidently, the dreams of Gamchan had come true.
“Does Pandol still lead the Clan?” he inquired.
“He leads no longer,” said Izon heavily. “He was challenged by Gamchan to the duello two years ago, and fell before his steel. Some there are that claim the chieftain waited until the akka-komor was far gone in drink before daring to challenge him. At any rate, Gamchan is now akka-komor of the Kandars.”