Orphans - Kevin Killiany [42]
And several somethings were coming. Too many riderbeasts for Naiar to count by the sound of their hooves were coming up the trail he had followed.
Ahrhi cursed and resheathed her sword. Running to the Doctor gnome, she pulled her nursing slings over her head and handed her infants to him. Gesturing to the startled creature that he should get down behind the bushes, she turned and hurried back to Naiar’s side.
Together they moved away from the dissel grove, out of the firelight.
Naiar heard the leading riderbeasts round the rise that concealed the birthing pool from the trail. They pulled up, allowing others to join them.
“I’ll get to Striver,” Naiar said quietly. “You get the others up to the cave.”
“And then what?” Ahrhi asked. “Hold them at bay with my arrow? I count three fours at least. Wits, not swords, will get us out of this.”
In the darkness they heard the riders spread out, clearly angling to block off any escape from the hollow. Naiar’s mind raced. Knowing one had to survive by one’s wits and actually formulating a plan were two very different things.
Suddenly, strange lanterns in the hands of some of the riders threw broad beams of white light across the clearing. It took only a moment for the lights to find Naiar and Ahrhi, illuminating them from a four of angles.
The light bearers held position while the others came on. As they neared, Naiar realized there was something wrong with their silhouettes. The riders were the size of children, many with strange and ungainly packs on their backs.
“Gnomes!” Ahrhi hissed a heartbeat before Naiar made the realization.
The lead gnome rode into the light: a female almost without color. She reined her mount in a four of paces distant and with one hand leveled a crossbow of bizarre design at Naiar’s chest.
Naiar was vaguely aware she was flanked by a gnome maned like the Doctor, head and shoulders taller than she was, and another of her size with no hair and rich brown skin, but all he saw clearly were the alien eyes regarding him along the length of the weapon.
He heard Ahrhi sheathe her sword. Not daring to break the leader gnome’s gaze, he followed suit.
The gnome spoke, her words unintelligible. A heartbeat later, the strange box mounted on her shoulder said: “[explanation/cause] should I [kill/destroy] you not?”
Naiar recognized the strangely stuttering grammar. The gnomes at his father’s house had spoken thus when unsure of shades of meaning.
Before he could formulate an answer to the question, however, the crystal peal of the blue gnome’s voice came out of the darkness.
The box on the leader’s shoulder intoned flatly: “Because he saved my [shell/legs/life].”
The lead gnome gasped as Naiar’s traveling companion stepped into the light.
“[noise/name ‘Pattie’],” the box said. “You look like [waste material].”
“Tactful as ever [noise/name ‘Corsi’].” The box did not capture the laughter Naiar heard in the blue—in Pattie ’s—voice. “Put up your toy before you have a [glandular poor judgment].”
The leader gnome—Corsi—nodded to Naiar as she ported the weapon.
A second female gnome, this one with dark hair covering only her head, stepped into the light. She had a large backpack connected by wires to what looked to Naiar like a flagon and a hand mirror. Ignoring everyone else, she studied the mirror while passing the flagon over Pattie’s body.
“[Everything transcribers] and [unknown],” Pattie said. “How do you [source]?”
“The [source-eaters] cannot [see/feel/touch] living [source],” said the maned gnome beside the leader. “I tailored [germs/rot/sickness] into [life-source-fuel-units].”
“[noise/name ‘Langk’], I’m impressed,” said Pattie. Then to the dark-covered female: “[Ignore] me. There are two newborns you should examine.”
“Newborns?” She looked up from her mirror. “Where?”
“Here.” The Doctor gnome stepped into the light, an infant in either arm.
“[noise/name ‘Kairn’], are you now a [servant/nursemaid]?” Langk’s scoffing tone needed no translation.
Ahrhi’s sword sang from its sheath. A single step brought her within reach, her eyes level