Dream Drive Ch. 04

"Things have changed." Boonta glanced back over the landscape. The plains stretched on, endlessly. In the very far distance, he could see the tiny triangle-needle of the mountain. It was hazy; on some days, this far out, it could not be seen at all. "The People-Under-The-Mountain are backward. I have seen your villages, your keeps. Your magic. Your way is best, but no one understands."

"I'm glad you think highly of us."

Part of Boonta knew Tell'ad was just leading him on, providing him with a polite outlet while waiting for him to get to the point. But he relished the flattery. It was a rare spice he never tasted at camp. "I want to be one of you, commander. I want to be...someone important. Give me some of your lands, and your coins. Set me up so that, if I didn't want to, I would never have to hunt again."

Tell'ad nodded. "It can be done. Lord Hale has extensive holdings. Even if he's reticent, I'll cut you a slice of my own."

"Good. Good."

They sat there for a moment, in silence. Boonta found his eyes wandering back to the black-clothed man. His face was deeply shadowed by the cloak's hood; Boonta could only see his mouth. It was set in a straight, narrow line. Bored. Impatient.

Maybe Boonta would make this impatient warrior wait a little longer.

"It is a hot day to wear that much clothing," he said.

The warrior shifted on his horse. The mouth under the hood's shadow moved a bit, as if considering words. But it settled, and the warrior shrugged.

"Do you think you are too good to speak to me?" Boonta said. He shifted his gaze to Tell'ad. "I want to be more important than this person. I want a title, so that they must listen to me."

"A title can be arranged," Tell'ad said. "You might be a lord, Boonta. Perhaps something greater. A baron? Or a knight?"

Baron Boonta? It bumped off the tongue too much. "A knight," he pronounced confidently.

The warrior in black smirked.

"Is there something amusing about that?" Boonta asked.

Tell'ad looked at the warrior in black. The mouth quickly forced its way out of a smirk. "I apologize," Tell'ad said. "She will be reprimanded later."

She? Boonta squinted. Yes - the lines of the cloak and leather armor hid it well, but the hips of a woman sat around the horse's flanks. He glared at the face hidden under the cowl. He'd be seeing more of her, later.

"Lands, and a title," Boonta said. "Remember what you've promised."

"I will," Tell'ad said. "And...the location of this meeting?"

Boonta told him.

###

As the warrior rode off, Tell'ad turned to his newest soldier. "You almost cost us that information."

"Well, I didn't. Get over it."

"I'm not some soldier, girl. You are here because Lord Hale placed faith in you. I don't particularly care for his judgement in the matter, but it is his decision." Tell'ad faced her fully. "What is not up for debate is your lack of respect. When you address me, do it properly, or I'll have your head on a pike."

"You know," the girl said, "I could kill all of you."

Tell'ad stiffened. The soldier with his bow out looked for instruction. His fingers clenched around the shaft of his arrow.

Tell'ad gave his head the slightest of shakes. The soldier swallowed, and nodded.

"Anyway," she said, "I'll address you with respect when I feel like it. Men are all such idiots." She waved at the retreating form of Boonta. "Even that jackass acted different when he knew I was a girl. He probably expects to teach me a lesson once he has his title. He didn't even know a knight is beneath a baron. Moron." She looked at Tell'ad. Now that their quarry was away, her chattiness was coming back in full - unfortunately. "So what's the deal with the Indians, anyway?"

"...Indians?"

"Those people," she said, slightly frustrated. "His people."

"The people of the plains are a vicious, barbaric lot," Tell'ad said. "Lord Hale has long shared a border with them. They have arable land in spades, but they farm none of it. They refuse to trade or negotiate; they just want us to keep away."

"So fight them."

"We have, girl," Tell'ad said. "I was involved in one of the conflicts when I was younger. They're brutal. Fast. Unpredictable. They don't organize themselves like we do; it's hard to know who to kill to undermine their leadership. Lord Hale can't afford to fight and lose, or he'll expose himself to other rivals in the region. The empire is shifting. But if he can catch the plains people unaware, catch them by surprise - that's different. We don't know much about them, but this meeting sounds like exactly how we can get them with their trousers around their knees. We'll give them a blow they can't soon recover from, and then we'll expand into the plains. Turn a disadvantage into an advantage." Tell'ad glanced at her. "You understand any of that, girl?"

"Perfectly," she said. "Still not sure why I got dragged along for this."

"You're my bodyguard. Hale knows he can't lose me."

"Against one guy? You're not a cripple."

"Sometimes," Tell'ad said, "a man does something he finds distasteful to please those who stand above him. Such as taking along an ungrateful wench that thinks herself above her station to an extremely sensitive exchange of intelligence. I don't know if you noticed, but that boy is a bomb about to go off."

"Heh." She smiled under her cowl. "You kinda remind me of my grandpa. And yeah, I saw how he was. I just couldn't resist antagonizing him."

"You did that intentionally?"

"Well, no," she said. "It just sort of happened. One of my several personality flaws. He was some kind of pig, though. I wonder how they ride without saddles. This thing is hurting my ass like crazy. So, are you actually going to give him lands?"

Tell'ad considered for a moment, then decided that if Hale had his hooks into her, she wouldn't be leaking their plans any time soon. "Just long enough for him to let his guard down."

"That's what I figured." She looked at him. Blue eyes shone at him from under her hood. "You know, my grandpa was the same way about men above him. Bowing down. Doing distasteful things. And one day, he did the wrong thing, put one toe out of line, and all that was forgotten. He was dragged off and killed. My grandpa wasn't a bad guy, kinda like you. I loved him. But he was stupid."

"At least he lived to see his hair grey up. I'm a forgiving man, girl, so I'll overlook your behavior. Others are not so. Your life expectancy will shorten considerably unless you adjust your attitude."

The girl's lips brightened into a toothy grin. "You're totally right. I wouldn't have it any other way. But I'm actually not worried about dying. I can't die anymore."

She said it with such matter-of-factness, so casually, that Tell'ad found himself believing it. He met her stare a few moments longer, searching for the lie - but there was none. She honestly believed what she was saying.

He turned his horse and started off. His soldiers fell in behind him. The girl had to work a bit harder at controlling her own animal - she wasn't used to riding. An odd thing, that.

She caught up with them, passed them because she was galloping too quickly, then managed to slow her horse to match their pace. "Who's a big stupid animal?" she said in warm, loving tones. "You are." She ran her fingers through the horse's mane and patted its neck. "You big dummy moron horse."

Tell'ad watched her. He was nervous. If Boonta was an unstable bomb, this girl was a magic spell flying at his face. The wrong word might set her off. He wasn't sure if she could follow through with her threats, but he didn't want to find out.

"I'm gonna go check out that lake we passed," she said.

"No."

"How come?"

"You don't know the plains. You'll get lost. Lord Hale will be breathing down my neck."

"I've got a map!"

"Girl!"

She ignored him. Tell'ad watched her speed her horse away from the direction they rode. Her body didn't take the speed well, bumping and scraping along the saddle rather than moving smoothly with the animal. Her thighs would regret that, eventually. It would be almost comical to watch, if she wasn't so disturbing.

"Commander?" his bowman prompted.

"Yes?"

"I thought that one of the reasons the plains are so hard to take is because everything looks the same," the soldier said. "Unless it's a clear day, you can't even see that mountain."

"That's correct."

"But, she said she has a map."

Tell'ad fixed his soldier with a meaningful look. "There aren't any maps of the plains."

###

Jackson was standing outside Landri and Chaki's tent. He wanted to talk to Landri, herself - Chaki's mother. Shaka told him that was appropriate, considering Chaki's father was no longer around.

Jackson glanced up at the top of the tipi. Her father's war jacket was strung from the support poles. He was a strong warrior, a great hunter. Everyone that knew him spoke of him with respect: Hanta. Shaka. He'd even been friends with Yukatan, the stern tribe elder.

How can I be like that guy?

The tent flap opened Landri emerged, and saw him. "Tatanka Ska?"

"Um...hi."

She smiled warmly. "What brings you to my tipi?"

If Chaki looked like Landri when she got older, Jackson didn't have much to worry about. Landri's face was lined, but the feature added maturity, not age. Her figure was rounder than Chaki's; she didn't hunt, or dance. But it was motherly, inviting, just like she was. Maybe time on the plains had worn down some of the stubbornness that was so raw in her daughter.

Jackson blinked. It wasn't really like him to analyze someone by their looks like that. Must be because he was so afraid of talking and screwing up his brain was trying to find something to do.

"Tatanka Ska?"

"Sorry," he said. "I was just...trying to think."

"That's fine. Take your time."

"...you can still call me Jackson, if you want."

Landri offered no complaint or apprehension. She just smiled. "I'd be happy to do so."

Jackson had noticed everyone else was packing. That could be a good starting point. "Would you...like some help with your tipi?"

"Goodness. Do I seem that old?"

"No!" Jackson blurted. "I mean, um, I didn't mean that at all."

Landri chuckled lightly. "I was only teasing, Jackson."

"Oh. Uh, right."

"This is about Chaki, yes?"

"...yeah."

"And your affections for her."

Jackson nodded once.

"Well then, go ahead."

"I..." Jackson gulped. "I want to marry her. I know it's sudden. But..."

"But you think it would be a good thing."

"Yes, I do. I don't have much to...give..." He tried to think back to what Shaka had advised. "But I'm a strong warrior, and I'll be able to protect her, and take care of her."

Landri smiled. "You're so bad at this, it's almost funny."

Jackson blushed red. "...oh."

"Still better than some, though," she said. "You should have seen my husband when he spoke to my father about our marriage for the first time. He could barely get a word out."

Jackson scratched the back of his head. "Heh."

"Jackson," she said, "you make my daughter happy. That is all you need to have my approval."

Jackson felt like a weight had dropped from his back. He could feel the tension in his body uncoil, so much that his back ached. "...thank you, Landri."

"No. I should thank you."

"...if you say so."

Landri stepped forward, placed a hand on Jackson's shoulder, and gave him a comforting one-armed hug. Jackson let it happen without complaint. "Chaki was...distant. Her father's death affected her. She lost something that day. We all did. But I had lived life on the plains longer than Chaki. I knew of death. My parents had already passed on. For her, with her youth...the experience burned her. A child should not have to lose a parent so soon. Not that soon."

"I didn't realize."

"You never saw it," Landri said. "She is a good daughter. She is nothing if not kind. She speaks strongly, and has a good sense of self, and she usually does the right thing. But...there was something missing. Something hidden, something she was afraid of. She feared enjoying life too much. She was afraid some part of it might be taken away again, I think."

"And she changed after me?"

"Some part of me believed she would return," Landri said. "When she was gone, when she was captured...believing that Palla and Chaki would come back kept me strong. I knew that Shaka had been taken as well. I knew she would protect them for me, even if it cost her life. From what she told me, it nearly did.

"But you were there, Jackson. Perhaps what you did seems small. It seemed the obvious thing to do. Perhaps it seems like no mean feat, something that people are too willing to congratulate you for. You are a whole person, a person with a life, a person with history. You are capable of mistakes, and of bad things, along with good things. One act of charity, no matter how great, does not change who you are."

"Yeah," Jackson said. "It kinda has been like that."

"You know who you are so excruciatingly that the praise feels awkward," Landri said. "You don't think you deserve it."

Jackson felt his blush creep up on his face. "Is all that really obvious?"

"Why do you think I'm friends with Shaka?" Landri said. "She is incredibly respected because of her position, but for the same reason, she is isolated. She cannot be very expressive; she cannot much favor one member of the tribe over another, unless there is a publically justifiable reason. And you, Jackson - goodness. You could be Shaka's son."

Jackson felt his face turn beet red at that. For some reason, it was embarrassing - but in a good way, not the bad way. The positive embarrassment of too much attention. Did that say something about how he felt about Shaka? He wasn't sure what to do with the feelings. He had nowhere to put them.

Landri just smiled politely and continued. "Chaki is a little different. The experience hasn't changed you as much, but for her, it meant everything. It was the restoration of what she'd lost. You represent something she thought had left her forever."

Jackson thought back to seeing a caged Chaki, and seeing her eyes. Dead eyes that burned back to life. His north star, igniting.

"I think I know what you mean," he said.

"Protect that part of her, for me," Landri said, "the part of her that believes in the joy of life, in the hope and promise of the future - and you have my blessing."

"I will." Jackson cleared his throat a bit. "I thought I'd be the one making speeches when I came over."

Landri gave him her warm smile. "I know you did. I just decided to help out a little. Call it a mother's intuition."

Jackson looked down. "...I'm glad Chaki has a good mother."

"Me too," Landri said.

Jackson laughed. "Now I know where Chaki gets it from."

"Where I get what from?" Chaki's voice asked.

They both turned. Chaki was standing there with a long wooden pole over her shoulders. Containers holding water were strung from the pole - everything from buckets to sewn up bladders. She gingerly set the load down so that nothing spilled.

"Oh, all your best qualities," Landri said.

"I see." She stood, and faced Jackson. "You've finished practicing?"

"Yeah," Jackson said. "Vuntha told me his arms were going to fall off if we kept going, so I decided to give him a break."

"What about Hanta?"

"Hanta said he'd spar another time. He showed me how to shoot a bow, though."

Chaki's eyes danced. "Maybe he thought he might lose if he fought with you."

"I think he knows what he's doing." Jackson looked at the horizon. "...I'm going to leave, soon."

"Jackson, you shouldn't go back there," Chaki said. "It's too dangerous."

Landri frowned. "Go back where?"

"Where Shaka and Palla and I were held. He wants to finish off the rattok. Foolish masculine pride, if you ask me."

"You know it's more than that," Jackson said.

"There are other ways to grow stronger," Chaki said. "Stay here and practice with the men."

"It's not enough."

"It will have to be."

"It isn't enough," Jackson said. "I've made my decision. I'm going back. You can come, or you can stay."

Chaki looked surprised. The bond told him she was...unsure. Her fire flickered between being pleased and - something else. Something cold.

"...I don't want to go back there," Chaki said.

Jackson nodded. "I understand."

"I also don't want you to go alone. That's foolish. If -"

"Chaki." Jackson raised his left hand, showing the twisted scar that wrapped his wrist. "I have this. I understand how it works - at least, I'm getting there. I can't fall into a comfort zone. I have to keep pushing the boundaries. Knowing what I know now, this is the best possible decision I can make. I'll be alright."

"You had better be," she said.

"I will be." He looked at Landri. "Is it alright if I take Smallgrass?"

Landri gave him a nod, but her tone was serious. "Smallgrass is well trained. She will know to wait for you. Palla is with the horses now; go to see him." She paused. "Are you sure this is wise, Jackson?"

"No," Jackson said, "but if I don't go, I'm -" Jackson stopped himself short of telling Landri that if he didn't get strong enough, he and her daughter might die. "It's a matter of Shakhan. I need to leave."

Landri nodded. "Say no more. I will ask the spirits to guide your feet."

"Jack," Chaki said. Her voice was small. "Please be careful."

Jackson looked at her. He thought about what Landri had told him - that he represented something vital for Chaki. "I'll be as careful as I can," he said. He took her hand. "And I'll be back soon. So make sure Shaka doesn't eat all the wasna, alright?"

Chaki's smile broke through her uncertainty. She nodded. "I want to be there. To guide you. But..."

"You will be there," Jackson said. "Distance doesn't matter." He learned forward and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you soon."

###

Jackson stood at the edge of trees. The clearing was ahead of him. He could see the wooden lookout platform above the entrance to the cavern.

A rattok was standing on top of it, facing away. The creature's long snout twitched nervously. The fleshy tail protruding from its backside flexed slowly, turning from side to side. It paced the platform, stopped, began pacing again. Its claws clicked on the wood.

The breeze was against Jackson - no smell to betray his position. He drew an arrow from his quiver.

Jackson hadn't had much time to practice shooting. His passive Bows skill was only level 5. At this distance, though, he was confident.

He'd left Smallgrass at the edge of the wood. Riding a horse was harder than it looked; he didn't want to try marching her through thick brush. It was easy to find the lake again; expanding his minimap to full size had given him an overhead view of the plains. Most of it was greyed out, but a long swath of green grass marked where he'd explored before. He just had to make sure his green indicator stayed pointed in the right direction.

Jackson set the arrow on the bow. Hanta had lent him a powerful instrument. The curved wooden beam was backed with snakeskin to bolster its strength. The string was sinew - bison tendon. Tough enough to support a bison's muscles its entire life, flexible enough to shoot an arrow.

Their stone-tipped arrows were difficult to make; Hanta could only spare ten of them. Every shot had to count. The rattok stopped on the platform, facing out over the cavern entrance, away from where Jackson was sitting.

He checked his grip on the bow. Wrist straight. Elbow high. Keep the grip-arm wide. Eyes on the target.

He drew the arrow back to the corner of his mouth. The tension in the string bent the corners of the shortbow back. He held there for a moment, aiming between its shoulders.