Part 2

  Carlo had scarcely been asleep for any length of time when he was dragged roughly to his knees.

  He came to his senses quickly enough when he found himself facing a thin, pinched faced man in dirty desert garb wearing a cruel grin and a wicked scar across his right cheek extending to his ear.

  The scarred man reached down at Carlo’s belt and removed the hunting knife from its sheath. “You won’t be needing this anymore,” he chuckled menacingly.

  Carlo glanced to his left and then to his right. His right arm was held tightly by a Tognoth. Carlo recognized the smooth exoskeleton and the breathing apparatus covering the lower part of the face with two corrugated tubes hanging from either side. His other arm was in the custody of a tall, large framed, muscular woman whose grip seemed like iron. They were both dressed in similar desert garb.

  A fourth member of the group held Charles by the collar. If anything, he was even more shabby than the first man, their apparent leader. His hair was disheveled and he had four or five days of beard growth on his chubby face. His tan overall was stained and worn threadbare in places, torn in others.

  The poor Charles had a dejected look on his face but made no sound.

  The fathier stood a ways off grazing almost absentmindedly on a clump of desert grass.

  Carlo looked the scarred man in the eye. “Who are you? What do you want?” The answers meant little to Carlo but if the little man answered it might buy him some time. He tried to pull his right hand closer to his side. While the scarred man had taken his knife, Carlo could still feel the weight of the lightsaber. He’d deduced correctly that they’d not recognized it for the weapon it was.

  The scarred man answered in a nasal high pitched voice, “None of your business, rat.”

  He pointed Carlo’s knife at Charles. “Get the boy in the speeder.” He turned an evil look on Carlo. “He’s not gonna want to see what happens next.” He then drew the back of the blade in a foreboding manner across his throat.

  Without a word, the man shoved the boy toward the base of the dune toward a waiting speeder.

  The scarred man turned his attention back to Carlo who had altered his tactic somewhat. He ignored the scarred man in front of him and threw all of his concentration on the saber at his side. He inhaled slowly and the saber jumped from his belt into his waiting right hand. It flared to life, startling the man on Carlo’s right arm. The strong woman called out to him, “Watch out, Benoit!”

  The man, Benoit, lost his grip on Carlo’s arm and his footing at the same instant. He fell backwards, swearing in his high pitched chirping language.

  Carlo reversed his grip on the sabers hilt and with the blade now pointing down, Carlo swiped the blade in an arc toward the scarred man, cutting the hunting knife in two. Carlo finished the motion by pushing the woman away. The scarred man screeched, “Kill him, Fonua!”

  She swung a powerful arm in a wide swing but Carlo was already stepping back.

  The punch did little damage and Carlo was able to land a solid kick to Fonua’s middle knocking her down the side of the dune.

  By this time Benoit had recovered his feet and was brandishing a blaster pistol. He didn’t get a chance to fire. Carlo changed to a two handed grip on the saber and slashed through the blaster barrel. Benoit was again startled by the saber and a quick forward kick sent him falling backward, tumbling down the steep dune to join Fonua at the bottom.

  Carlo turned to face the scarred man.

  The scarred man took a few steps back and threw Carlo’s damaged blade at him. Carlo easily deflected the improvised missile and started to close the distance between them.

  The scarred man turned, running toward the fathier as he was trying to tug a blaster from his waistband. He finally freed the blaster as he reached the side of the great beast. In his haste he squeezed the trigger as it cleared his belt firing a bolt under the fathier. The big animal jumped with fright and bolted, running off at an impressive pace.

  Carlo was right behind the scarred man at that point and pushed him roughly to the gritty ground. The man flipped himself over onto his back only to find Carlo pointing the tip of the lightsaber at his neck. Carlo pressed the blade to within a hair's breadth of the man’s throat, “Toss the gun.” Which he did. Carlo backed up but only a little. “Call the boy back.”

  The scarred man cleared his throat and yelled, “Hector! Bring the boy back!”

  Carlo glanced down the dune toward the speeder. The man, Hector, looked back up toward them. He saw Carlo with the green blade shining in the dark and realized what must have happened. He turned quickly, picked Charles up and threw him into the speeder, yelling, “I’m outta here, Riool!” He jumped into the speeder and hit the accelerator.

  “No!” Carlo yelled, almost running after the speeder as it raced away across the dunes.

  Riool, his scarred face twisting in anger, swore a nasty oath in Huttese and yelled, “Hector! I’m gonna kill you!”

  Carlo turned back toward the scarred man, almost too late, Riool raised his recovered blaster but before he could fire, Carlo took the initiative.The saber flashed and Riool screamed, holding the wrist where his right hand should have been.

  Riool turned tail and tried to run, his breathing ragged. He tripped and rolled down the side of the dune toward his other two companions. They stood still, clearly unsure of what their next move ought to be.

  Carlo, standing at the top of the dune, pointed the saber into the night. The three bandits took the hint, turned, and ran.

  Carlo waited until he couldn’t see them before shutting down the lightsaber.

  He sighed. Charles was gone. Now what?

  He turned around and almost bumped his head in the fathier’s nose. The beast had come back! Carlo smiled in spite of himself and patted the big animal’s flank. He looked out over the desert in the direction the speeder had gone. It had disappeared.

  Carlo reached down and picked up the scarred man’s discarded weapon. He then heaved himself into the fathier’s saddle and nudged the beast after the speeder.

  *****

  Carlo made good time following the speeder. The early morning was still and the quiet center was broken only by the occasional buzz of a flying insect.

  The passage of the speeder was easy to follow. The speeder’s hovering fortunately left a particular impression on the sand. Carlo knew, however, that the faint track would vanish quickly in even a slight breeze.

  The speeder was also quite a bit faster than the four legged fathier. That meant that Carlo would need to hurry along. He knew that he'd not likely overtake his quarry but if the speeder stopped for any reason, Carlo may be able to make up some of that distance thanks to the apparent considerable endurance of his mount.

  Carlo topped a large dune about the time the sun emerged. Before him stretching to the far horizon was a hardpan valley of dry, cracked ground. Through the middle of the valley was a dry creek bed demarcated by smooth, rounded stones following a meandering path. On one side of the creek bed was a large cluster of brightly colored tents. Outside of one of them was a group of people tending to what appeared to be cook fires. Near them there was a pole topped with a banner hanging limply in the stillness of the morning. Near to the edge of the camp was an improvised pen made of a couple of lengths of rope attached to stakes arranged in a large circle. Inside were their mounts and other beasts of burden. Carlo raised the macrobinoculars to his eyes and scanned the enclosure, he recognized a couple of fathiers and about half a dozen dewbacks, a massive species of desert lizard often used by desert dwellers for transportation and for pulling wagons. There were even a few blurrgs, two legged creatures with bulbous heads and big mouths filled with sharp, pointed teeth used as mounts when fathiers were not available.

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  He scanned the rest of the camp. There were a few people in desert garb milling about but the biggest group was near the cook fires. There was no apparent alarm and no indication that anyone had seen him.

  There was also no speeder parked anywhere nearby. So unless they’d parked the vehicle inside one of the tents, it was long gone.

  Carlo was pretty certain the speeder he’d been following had passed into this valley but it could have just passed right by this camp without stopping.

  Carlo nudged the fathier into motion heading down the dune. He was well into the valley when one of the children playing off to the side of the encampment noticed his presence. He called out and pointed Carlo out to one of the older children who took up the call. Soon a couple of adult members of the camp were standing near the edge of the cluster of tents and the children had all retreated back into whichever tents they’d come from.

  As Carlo drew closer the first sentinels were joined by two more. Carlo could see they were armed, two of them with short spears, likely of an electrified variety popular among the desert tribes. They were dressed in loose fitting garb topped with yellow hoods. Their lower faces were covered with a yellow fabric gaiter wrapping that extended down to their necks. Black tinted goggles meant to protect against the blowing desert sand rode currently on their foreheads. Of the other two, one had a rifle similar to the one Carlo had lost in the flash flood, and the other with a blaster pistol not unlike the one now tucked into Carlo’s belt.

  Carlo kept the fathier straight on toward the group, thinking to present a minimal target if they decided to get trigger happy.

  Carlo kept one hand on the reins and one in the open, hoping to appear less threatening but did keep them low so he could grab a weapon if needed.

  At this distance he could see that they were serious. The woman with the rifle hefted it nervously, lowering the barrel slightly.

  Carlo stopped the fathier and raised his empty right hand in what he hoped was a friendly gesture. In his left hand he kept the reins but it was also close to the blaster. At this distance the lightsaber was not likely to be of any great use.

  Carlo waited. He allowed the sentinels to speak first in what he hoped was also a non-threatening gesture.

  One of the sentinels, carrying a spear, stepped forward. “State your business, stranger.”

  Carlo lowered his hand. “I’m looking for a speeder that came through here earlier.” He paused and then continued, “You see it?”

  “Why you looking for them?” The sentinel inquired.

  He said “them” not “him”. So Charles was still with the bandit.

  Carlo cleared his throat. “It’s my brother-in-law and nephew. My sister said he left his comlink at home.”

  The sentinels looked at each other. Then the one spoke again, “They’re not here. Move along, stranger.”

  Carlo nodded and smiled in a conciliatory manner.

  Just then a gust of wind caught the banner in the pole revealing the stylization of a desert palm on the red background, a symbol Carlo had seen years earlier carried by a group of religious nomads that had traveled near his home village. He also recalled that they had used particular salutation. “Very well. Naraka be with you,” he said and was about to urge the fathier into motion.

  “Stranger!” A voice called from the shade of a nearby tent. “Will you join us for our morning meal?”

  ******

  The voice belonged to an older woman with long gray hair falling about her shoulders. Her dress was similar to the sentinels but her face was uncovered and her hood, thrown back off her head, was white. She carried herself with an air of authority. Carlo felt as if the request was more than mere courtesy. This woman was not accustomed to being disobeyed. She continued, “Perhaps we can help each other.”

  Carlo nodded and urged the fathier toward the camp.

  The sentinels parted to let him pass and as soon as he did, Carlo dismounted in front of the old woman.

  She offered a hand to Carlo who returned the gesture. The old one grasped Carlo’s hand with both of hers. “Greetings in the name of Naraka.”

  Carlo nodded. He hoped he was not about to commit some sacrilege or taboo.

  “I’m Alice. And you are?” The old woman’s voice was gravelly but Carlo caught a hint of kindness.

  “I’m called Carlo. I’m from Utopia.” He didn’t want to give up too much information but he felt that it would be important to give some if he eventually was to receive some.

  Alice released his hand. “Do you know the Word of Naraka?”

  The truth would likely serve as well as a story in this instance. Carlo replied, “I met some followers of Naraka many years ago in a village far to the north. I remember them as honorable people.”

  Alice didn’t seem at all disappointed. “Come! Let us eat.” She gestured to the sentinel that had spoken before. “Char will see to your fathier.”

  Carlo nodded and removed the bag from the saddle which he slung over his own back. He handed the lead rope to the sentinel Char who accepted it with a shallow bow.

  Alice led Carlo to the cook fires where one of the cooks, a large man who Carlo guessed was fond of his own cooking, handed them each a plate of some sweet bread and a pile of scrambled desert fowl eggs.

  Alice and Carlo sat near one of the fires and Carlo sampled the eggs. They had been seasoned with a spice that shocked Carlo’s palate. He felt as if his sinuses were going close up and felt tears well up in his eyes.

  Alice chuckled at Carlo’s discomfort. “Not used to spicy food, eh?”

  Carlo shook his head and Alice offered him a large tankard of water which Carlo drank to the last drop.

  Alice deliberately piled some of the egg onto the bread and took a bite of them together. “Like that,'' she said. “Goes down easier.”

  Carlo, following her lead, did the same. Alice was right. That was much better. Although he still didn’t care for the spice.

  They continued with the meal trading observations about the weather, about desert game, and about cooking. It was the usual small talk that Carlo had participated in a hundred times before with members of nearby villages or with travelers who had happened upon his home village. Polite conversation, nothing more.

  Then, when Alice had finished her food, she handed her plate back to the cook who had been walking by. She leaned toward Carlo. “Now. Tell me why you’re really here.”

  His reaction was well controlled. He handed his own plate to the cook. Then he leaned toward Alice, “What do you mean?”

  A thin smile spread over her face. “There’s more to your story.”

  It was Carlo’s turn to chuckle. “Ah. That’s probably true of everyone.”

  Alice nodded. “Agreed. But I want to hear about why you’re hunting your brother in law.”

  Carlo looked away for only a split second but it was enough for her. “I see. It’s not your brother in law you’re after. It’s your nephew?”

  Carlo could see that Alice was quite shrewd. Again, the truth would probably serve as well as a story. But perhaps not the whole truth. “I’m trying to return him to his mother.”

  Alice leaned back slightly. “For money? A reward?” She judged from Carlo’s expression that was not the case. “Not money then.”

  Carlo shook his head. “No. The boy’s parents are friends of a friend.”

  Alice exhaled deeply and intertwined her fingers thinking for a moment. Carlo stayed silent, wondering where this conversation was heading.

  Finally Alice motioned to one of the sentinels who had met Carlo at the edge of the camp. She said nothing but the sentinel nodded and ran to one of the tents going inside.

  A bare minute later the sentinel flipped the fabric door of the tent open from the inside and exited leading Charles by the hand!

  Carlo shot to his feet and Charles, when he saw the hunter, broke away from the sentinel and ran to Carlo embracing him tightly around the waist. Carlo knelt, returned the embrace and asked, “Charles, are you okay?”

  The boy nodded in the affirmative but, as was his custom, didn’t speak a word.

  Carlo stood and faced Alice who’d been joined by her sentinel. “How?”

  Alice smiled. “How did the boy get here?” She laughed. “Early this morning a desert bandit crashed his speeder into one of our tents. The boy jumped out and tried to make a run for it. He clearly didn’t want to stay with that guy. When we started asking questions the bandit jumped back in his speeder and took off.”

  Carlo put a hand on Charles’s shoulder. “Thank you. He’s been through a lot.”

  Alice stood up. “We figured that part out. The boy hasn’t said a word since he got here.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t say much that’s for sure. He needs to get back to his family.”

  It was Alice’s turn to nod, “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Carlo felt a coldness grip him as Alice’s once kind expression changed. She continued, “I think that since we did you a favor, you might do something for us.”

  Carlo had a cold feeling in his gut as if a hammer was about to fall. He resisted the urge to sweep his Jedi cloak back away from the blaster still tucked in his belt. He forced a smile and replied, “What could I do to repay your generosity?”

  He was unable to entirely keep the edge off his voice. It was enough to alarm the sentinel, who’s hand strayed to her own blaster.

  Alice saw the move and stepped between Carlo and the sentinel. “Eren, no.” She said with a wave of her hand. The sentinel relaxed but only slightly.

  “Mr. Carlo, please, hear me out. My daughter is in danger.”

  Carlo, keeping a wary eye on Eren, nodded curtly.

  Alice proceeded. “A couple days' journey from here there's an oasis where another clan of Naraka are camped. Their leader is a witch.”

  Carlo almost winced when the old woman had spat the word “witch”. She’d said it with a great deal of disdain.

  Alice sighed heavily. “Vishla has convinced her clan that Naraka has granted her powers to see the future in visions. Some say that she can use her powers to move objects without touching them and even bend people to her will.”

  Some of that description sounded very familiar to Carlo.

  Alice wiped her brow and pressed on, obviously the subject distressed her. “That’s what I believe she’s done with my daughter, hypnotized her into leaving her family and turning her back on us.”

  Carlo could tell that when Alice had said “us” she had really meant “me”. This wasn’t just about a missing child. For Alice, it was a personal attack perpetrated by a rival clan leader.

  Carlo considered his response for a moment. His position was perilous. He was in the middle of a village, at least some of these people were trained warriors. Taking on a couple of ruffians on a desert dune or even the bear would be simple by comparison. Fighting his way out was not an option. Perhaps, however, he could be a little more subtle. For some reason, at that moment, he thought about VP16 and thought that the droid might approve of a subtle approach.

  Carlo looked Alice in the eye. “What do you want me to do?”

  Alice looked Carlo in the face, perhaps trying to decide if he was serious about helping and then said, “We’ll be at the oasis in two days. It will be a meeting of at least three clans. Your task will be to find an opportunity to get my daughter away from the witch.”

  Carlo frowned. “Why me? Why not send your warriors?”

  Alice shook her head. “We can’t risk it. It would mean war if they got caught.”

  “And I,” Carlo continued for her, “I am not a member of your clan, I'm nobody.”

  “Correct.”

  Happy Holidays!!

  Keep an eye out for an Extra Chapter coming tomorrow Dec 25!!!