Only darkness and slivers of tight, white faces-- eyes peaked with worry as they glanced at the courtyard through cracked lodge doors-- greeted the dawn while Sashek worked on packing a satchel full of traveling supplies. Into the satchel were stuffed tea packets, bundles of healing herbs, small sections of cordoned kindling and cattle patties for starting fires. The two human children, Frankie and Blythewood, worked quietly beside her as they concentrated on which things they should take: dolls, rolled-up pinafores, blankets, or the wrapped calf-skins that were sometimes used as pillows. Toys were discouraged; why, Sashek had not been specific, but the confused little girls knew that the trip they would embark upon would be a long journey, indeed...perhaps the longest they had ever taken.
The Council, small though it was, had considerable clout with Hidden Well's superstitious inhabitants; the merits and cons of leaving the only village they had known for hundreds of years in lieu of a possible Draca attack had been argued and picked over in the town's meeting lodge deep into the Night. Of course it made perfect sense that the People should remain, argued one side, because packing up and deserting their comfortable village would almost certainly anger the spirits that lived in the wood, in the trees, in the streams, and even more so the capricious gods and goddesses that swam in the shining beams of the Twin Moons. They further made a case for more protection against Dragura's wrath if they remained, for the spirits and gods who relied on their worship would reward their piety. This group counted on the strength of their thatch-roofed homes, the cellars that a few of the richest could boast where they planned on hiding precious children, and the sharp weapons that every able-bodied man and teen-ager would be expected to wield against the sensitive underbellies of their attackers. The folk of Hidden Well knew the Draca feared fire above all else and rarely used it themselves-- thus, the majority of poles and staffs would be slathered with pitch and lit liberally at the ends.
All of this was poppycock, insisted the other group, which consisted mainly of furrow-browed older men, widows, and young mothers who clutched wide-eyed babies to their bosoms. Of what use were handsome thatched roofs when five-inch claws and paws the size of serving platters could rip these to shreds while swooping low at high speeds? Of what good were cellars if children were hidden and later debris piles covered the openings, leaving babes to suffocate before they could be dug out and young women to wail the loss of their first-borns? Of any who remained, there were bound to be deaths. No one drove this point home harder than the grandfathers and great-uncles of these young families, many of whom had seen Draca raids in their youths and remembered the carnage that had been wrought: houses razed to the ground, young women snatched by gigantic flying beasts who left only droplets of blood behind, thin young men snapped in half by raging dragons, and babies ripped from mother's arms, only to twist out of their abductor's claws and be impaled on the sharp ends of the very weapons meant to protect them. Of course they must go, it was decided; the sooner the better, and any who stayed behind for any reason were almost certainly fools to the death.
In the end, few switched sides. Only about forty percent of Hidden Well's thousand-plus inhabitants had decided to leave- among them Julian and his love, Lu-Lu-- but the difficult decision had been made to split the Council. It was recognized that each group of people, no matter how wrong or how right, would need a leader, and the sisters themselves had reportedly argued bitterly over the specifics.
Lomaris had decided to stay behind.
"Why do we have to leave, Sashek?" Frankie peeked at her from beneath a poof of black bangs with her too-small eyes.
Sashek glanced at her. "Because." Thinking of bloodshed, Sashek grabbed a roll of small white cloths and added them to the satchel. The moon-rays from the Celestial Twin Sisters would be evident soon, but how long would they have to wait before Dragura appeared with her wrath and minions?
"I wanna stay." While Blythewood worked busily at stuffing her pack, Frankie looked down at hers and wrung her hands.
"We cannot," Sashek said stiffly, reaching out to pat the little girl on her palms. Aside from Joo-Lee, Sashek had never been comfortable around small children, not even her own younger sister Amek.
"Is it because there are monsters out there?" Frankie asked.
Sashek considered the word. Monster? "What does this mean?" she asked, working to keep an expression of calm on her face.
"You know." Frankie looked down. "Big things. With scary eyes and teeth and big claws that like to hide in people's closets."
"Closets?"
"Or, um, in cellars."
"Of course there are monsters," Sashek said simply, "but we call them dragons. They usually live in the forest or in the mountains, and they--"
She was bewildered when Frankie burst into tears. Blythewood looked at her disdainfully. "Monsters on this planet are real, Frankie," she said haughtily. "Didn't you learn that when we came here?"
Sashek sat back, a thin white cloth still wrung in one hand, and tried to hide her astonishment. Did this child think that monsters were not real? What kind of world had these children come from, where their parents were ridiculous enough to tell them that dragons weren't real? Could it be that they were lucky enough to live on a world without 'monsters'?
"There is little to fear, Frank-ee," Sashek said lamely. "It is why Lopak, Julian, and Lu-Lu have decided to leave the village with some other people, just for a little while. If we are gone and the monsters come, then we won't be there for them to scare us. Do you understand this, child?"
Frankie sniffled and nodded. "But where are we gonna go to find shelter?"
Sashek smiled wanly. "Our men are good and finding and creating shelters in the most inhospitable of spots," she said. "You needn't worry about where we will sleep or what we will eat. The most important thing is that we all stay together as a people and remain safe, and eventually we will find our way back to my own village. We call it Looks Thrice-- and there we can find the woman who is truly meant to be Queen of the Dragons."
She took another glance at Frankie, who had relaxed a bit. She was even smiling. "What is the new lady like? Is she nice? Is she going to get into a fight with Drag-- Drahu--"
"Dragura."
"Is she going to make it so that evil lady won't hurt us anymore?"
"Absolutely," Sashek said, with a smile of her own. "But we must make haste! The others are probably almost through packing by now, and we'll want to be well on our way before Dragura can launch her attack on this village. It takes only a short amount of time for her to leave the Fortress and reach Hidden Well. Keep packing, child!"
Frankie paused. "Can I bring just one doll? Pleease?"
Sashek relented. "All right. But no other exceptions!"
She bent again to her satchel while Frankie lovingly examined the reed dolls among her collection, chose the one that looked the brownest, and placed it neatly into her carrying pouch. The supercilious Blythewood, noting Sashek's change of heart, peeked quickly at Frankie from the corner of one eye to make sure that her friend was not looking. Then she, too, reached for a well-worn doll and hid it within the confines of her pack.
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Jeanette had uncurled herself from an uncomfortable ball on the floor of her tiny shack, racking with dry-heaves. The tea she had borrowed from the young alien woman, Ika, had not had the desired effect. The place stank with vomit and even diarrhea, but Jeanette searched groggily among the mess and could find no pink mass that might have indicated an aborted half-breed.
It wasn't supposed to be like this! One full cup of that tea was supposed to start my menstrual cramps and kill the parasite growing inside of me! Did I not take enough! Did I not boil it long enough? Did I add too much spice or too little?
She felt beneath her long skirts for her woman parts, which were firm and closed rather than loose, as they should have been for her to be able to pass the fetus.
Well, no matter; even while passing in and out of her previous night's delirium, she had still caught wind of Lopak's plan to leave with the small group of followers. Jeanette had heard that women with unstable pregnancies could induce labor by walking and expending large amounts of precious energy; if the tea was not going to do its job, then she would find another way to rid herself of what was growing in her body.
She did not want it; wanted no part of it, and hoped that when the time did come for the thing to be born that no other women would be around; she wanted to be the one to pinch its nose and smother it quietly herself.
But there was no way they were leaving her here, and Julian and that wide-bellied Lu-Lu be damned. She would show them-- she would show that she was just as good as the rest, and if it meant getting away from the ET who had plastered the parasite into her belly, well all the better.
Tossing a few clean blankets over the mess she made, Jeanette hobbled over to her laundry basket, snatched a satchel off a peg on the wall, and set about to packing.
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Lu-Lu was full of anxious questions."What if they catch up with us? What if we cannot put distance between ourselves and Hidden Well fast enough?"
"I'll die cheerfully before I let one of those brutes take you from me," said Julian grimly, tossing his finished satchel into a corner by the door and pulling out a drawer from a decorative Kommode where he kept hidden knives and other hand-held weapons.
"You don't know the Draca, I'm afraid,' said Lu-Lu sadly. "While they may be no match for a pole alight with pitch and fire, hand-held items do not deter Dragura's 'pets'. I should know-- I have seen them in action."
"Oh?" Julian rummaged. He did not look up.
"Besides, I've been having dreams, and Dragura means to set her eyes on you."
There was a brief pause before Julian continued his search. He, himself, had had similar dreams, but he was not about to tell her.
"Jool-yan, she means to get to you through any means possible..and if that means elminating those who are close to you-- even me-- then she will do so without blinking an eye."
"And what do the dreams say?" asked Julian, not at all sure that he wanted to know the answer.
Luchek scrunched her shoulders. "She seems to think you are the One she has been waiting for," the young woman replied. "She means to take you as her mate so the two of you can rule Weema from the miserable Fortress that she calls home...the only parts that are fuzzy is how she plans to do it. Oh, Julian!" Lu-Lu leaped from the bench and flung her arms around him, trying valiantly to blink back the tears that threatened. "You are all I have left: my life, my love! What will I do if one of those beasts takes your life? Who will take care of me when I am alone? And when I give birth--"
Julian delicately peeled her arms off of him and considered the unasked question with a sigh. Both of them already knew the answer to it.
"You must be strong," he told her tersely, and the expression on his face was as still as a mask. "Lu-Lu, you know already that as long as I live, I will never allow anything to happen to you. But you must consider the alternatives: a woman with advanced pregnancy such as yourself will never be able to walk very far without falling into premature labor. The Army taught us that during our lectures on Invasion and Treatment of Acquired Peoples. If we are separated, you are to go to the woods immediately and have your Offspring in Secret. Never allow Dragura to rake her claws into you-- and tell no one, no one, the truth about the 'baby' you delivered. You must simply tell them it was a stillborn that died, do you understand?"
Lu-Lu nodded miserably.
"Good. Leave your Offspring and all traces of it in the forest. And if you are taken from me--"
"The Godesses forbid!" Luchek wailed, and collapsed onto the floor in a muddled heap.
Julian knelt beside her and stroked the wet, flaxen curls that were soaked with fear-sweat. "If you are taken from me," he continued, "do not permit Dragura the satisfaction of seeing the fear that will burn through your heart. She may use you to get to me...but whatever happens, I will always, always, always return for you."
Luchek sat up and squared her shoulders, a little better now that he had given her his reassurance. "Do you promise?" she asked him. Her voice was little more than a whisper.
Julian smiled. "You are my life," he said simply.
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Many tears had been shed by the time the twin beams of the Sister Moons shone down upon the valley that morning. Devastated good-byes had been exchanged as young wives prepared to separate from husbands who had decided to remain behind to protect Hidden Well. Young children clung to their fathers and wept bitterly; more than a few were carried off-- much to the horror of their keening mothers-- by men who could not bear to part from small sons and daughters, to be stowed away in cellars that might or might not have been safe haven during the raid. Lopak and Lomaris clung together one last time, whispering delicate sentiments in each other's ears.
The time to leave had come.
No sooner had Lopak taken her position at the head of the procession and begun to lead the crowd of 357 women, 30 men (young and old), and 25 children under the age of eight than the spine-tingling call which every soul had been dreading could be heard approaching from the far south:
Ai-Ai! Ai-Ai! Ai-Ai! Ai-Ai!
The Draca had come-- and along with them the woman who called herself the Queen of the Dragons.
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