She laughed again, and again he loved the sound. "Oh, I don't know. I don't really think about it. It's fun to see each new place. Don't be so serious!"
"All right." He nodded, wanting to please her.
They walked for a while down the beach, past groups of sailors and soldiers from the legion relaxing on the shore. All the men had gotten to debark at least once thus far, and more than half of them were ashore now.
Halloran looked at the forest that marked the boundary of the beach. From the sea, they had seen a steadily rising slope, leading to some moderate crests a few miles inland. Where he stood now, he could see only the trees before him, since their height concealed the rising ground beyond.
Martine exclaimed over this blossom or that brilliantly plumed bird, while the horseman wondered what lay beyond that jungle facade. What was this place really like?
"We'd better not go too far," he cautioned, realizing they had walked past the last group of men on the beach.
"Oh, stop worrying! I'd like to be someplace for once where there aren't hundreds of sweaty men around me!"
"But…" Halloran paused in total confusion. He would do anything to please her, and indeed her desires coincided deeply with his own. But the Bishou's dour and protective nature was well known, and Domincus could scarcely fail to observe their departure. Hal shuddered at the thought of his wrath.
A thunderous explosion of sound blasted from the jungle, striking them like a blast of air and driving Halloran to his knees. Like the roar of a great cat, amplified to an earth-shattering level, the bellow was strong enough, and startling enough, to knock Martine flat onto her back behind Hal. In an instant, he staggered to his feet, his sword drawn.
A creature of nightmarish appearance leaped from the jungle, pouncing to the sand ten paces before the man. Halloran saw a great black mane surrounding a feline face contorted by a hateful snarl. A pair of leathery wings flapped from the creature's shoulders, sending clouds of sand swirling into the air. A black-tufted tail lashed back and forth as the beast, larger than a horse, crouched, preparing to spring.
Martine's lips moved, but she lay immobile on the sand. She may have spoken, but Hal realized that he could hear nothing. The roar had deafened him.
Halloran stumbled unsteadily, lurching to Martine's side, crouching defensively to protect her from Ihe cruel jaws and raking talons. The monsler leaped, and Halloran brought his sword down in an overhand blow, striking the thing's brutish forehead.
He felt claws tear into his rib cage at the same time as his blade contacted hard bone. Hal fell backward, still in front of Martine, while the crealure uttered a short, surprised screech, stopping in its tracks and shaking its head.
Instantly Hal leaped to his feet, ignoring the burning pain and free flow of blood along his side. The snarling feline face was marred by a long cut, but once again the beast growled and crept forward. Halloran knew he could not stop it a second time.
Suddenly he saw one, then several heavy bolts appear in Ihe monster's flank. Crossbow quarrels! Some of Daggrande's men had seen them! The creature whirled and snapped at the missiles, so Halloran thrust at its other flank, driving his steel blade deep into its flesh. A band of swordsmen sprinted toward them, lumbering in the soft sand.
The monster uttered another horrible roar, directed up the beach. Halloran watched in astonishment as several of the running swordsmen stumbled and fell, apparently stunned by the roar. Before the others could close, the monster sprang back toward the shelter of the forest. Its short wings greatly speeded its flight, and in moments it had disappeared into the trees.
"Are — are you all right?" Hal asked, anxiously helping Martine to her feet. His voice sounded hollow in his skull, but it seemed that his hearing was gradually returning.
"Yes… but you're hurt." She looked at his chest with genuine concern. "You saved my life!"
Halloran felt a delayed reaction to the sudden deadly combat. His knees shook and his muscles felt drained. He did not resist as she lifted his arm over her shoulder and supported him, aided by several men who only now arrived on the scene.
"Get the Bishou!" she shouted, and one of the men turned to obey. Hal had visions of his last rites, his soul delivered to Helm on a silver platter.
They soon reached the main gathering, and the brown-robed Bishou Domincus came striding forward to greet them. From the glowering look on his features, Hal felt certain the cleric did indeed want to send his soul Helmward.
"Help him, Father! He saved my life! The creature… it was horrible! I don't know what it was!" Martine's words spilled forth in an excited jumble.
"'Hakuna', the chief called it." Hal blinked and saw Cordell standing beside the Bishou. The captain-general's face was slightly amused, not displeased. "That was well done. Captain!" Despite Hal's pain, the commander's words sent a thrill of pride to the core of his being. He smiled weakly as Martine helped him to lie upon the beach. The Bishou, still glaring, knell beside him.
"Helm deliver this warrior from his wounds." Domincus closed his eyes and chanted. "He fought bravely and truly in your name. Grant me the power to close his flesh, that he may strive further in your valorous cause!"
Halloran felt his pain flow from his body as if the dam restraining it had been breached. His arm, hanging limply before, suddenly became strong, and he struggled to rise.
"Rest here," said Martine quietly. "Don't get up yet." Her voice was so soothing, the sand and the sun so pleasant, that Hal had no difficulty obeying. She rested her hand upon his forehead, and it seemed as though cool water washed over him. In moments, he slept.
It was late afternoon before he was awakened by Daggrande. "Last boat to the Osprey. Unless you want to wait here and dance with that hakuna again tonight, that is."
Hal sprang to his feet, feeling remarkably spry. "Are we moving on?"
"Aye. The scout ships returned. This is an island, like I said. But now we hear tales of real mountains and a huge land that these folks get to by canoe. I think our next landfall will be the mainland."
"Splendid!"
"That's not all. We hear they have a real city there… and a pile of gold big enough to blind you in bright sunlight!"
Halloran saw several of the native girls being lifted into longboats, most of which had already been taken back to the ships. Some distance away, Martine and the Bishou were locked in a heated conversation, but he could not hear what they said. The daughter gestured angrily, and the father turned sourly away.
As Hal and Daggrande reached the Ospreys boat, Martine called to the cavalryman. He paused on the beach as Daggrande impatiently waited in the boat.
"I'm coming with you," said the woman. He saw a look of unfamiliar determination on her face.
"Of course." Halloran was delighted by the news, mostly. "But what about your father? Doesn't he want you aboard the Falcon?"
"Hmph!" She flounced past him and turned to look at the Bishou. He was aiding several native girls into another longboat. "Father seems to have been given a 'gift.'" Martine gestured at a dusky maiden. "A slave!"
Halloran looked in surprise, guessing that all twelve of the girls had been distributed among the other captains and influential officers of the fleet, as Martine continued. "I told him that he should set her free! Helm does not sanction slavery! But he made all sorts of stuttering noises — 'It would be an insult to her people,' and such!"
She cast an angry look back toward the cleric, and Halloran felt very glad that he was not the target of such scalding rage. Yet he didn't know what to say to her as she looked back at him, her eyes still flashing.
"I think he likes having a pretty young slave! And so I toid him I would not ride on the same ship with her," she snapped. "And here I am!"