D. MacHale - The Rivers of Zadaa

“That is true,” Loor said, sounding a little defensive. “In return the Batu grow crops and tend livestock to feed both tribes. We also protect the Rokador from the wild tribes of the desert and the zhou beasts and snakes you’ve seen. Without the Batu, the Rokador would perish.”

“Without the Rokador, the Batu would live like primitives,” Teek threw in.

Loor quickly shot back, “We are a warrior race that does not shy from life by cowering beneath the ground.”

“You’re a crude people with no modern skills,” Bokka said quickly. “Look at your ancient weapon, and look at mine.” He held up his shiny, steel baton. “This is the product of an advanced race of modern thinkers.”

He and Loor exchanged cold looks. They seemed ready to start throwing fists.

“Sandworm!” Loor threw at him.

“Barbarian!” Bokka shot back.

The two glared at each other intensely, then broke out laughing. I’m serious. Loor actually laughed!

“We have argued like this since we were young,” Loor said.

“The truth is,” Bokka said, “both tribes need each other.”

These guys were having a little bit too much fun. I was feeling like an outsider, but I couldn’t let that get in the way of our mission.

“So if they need each other so much, why is everybody worried about a war?” I asked.

“There’s always been tension,” Teek said. “But since the rivers began to run dry, the tension has turned into suspicion, and anger and fear. It has now given way to outright hatred.”

Loor said, “The Batu are accusing the Rokador of holding back the water until we are so weakened that they will rise up from their underground home and seize control of Xhaxhu.”

“But why would they do that, if everything was going so well?” I asked.

“To put it simply, we are running out of space,” Bokka said. “Our way of life is simple. We have always lived below ground. But as our population grows, that is becoming more difficult. The fear among the Rokador is that if we try to venture aboveground, we will be treated as inferiors and forced to live like animals.”

“They aren’t wrong,” Loor said. “Many Batu would treat the Rokador badly. But the royal family of Xhaxhu understands their plight. Our prince, Pelle a Zinj, has made it his goal to convince our people to accept the Rokador as equals.”

“But not everybody agrees,” I stated.

“That is correct,” Loor said. “What is the saying you use? It is a no-win situation. Many of the Batu will not accept the Rokador, and now they fear that the Rokador are holding back the water.”

“In return,” Bokka said, “the Batu have stopped providing us with food from the surface. We are starving.”

“And we are thirsty,” Loor said.

“So what’s the deal with the water?” I asked. “Are the Rokador holding it back?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Bokka answered. “I’ve heard rumors that there is something dramatic about to happen, but I cannot find out what it might be.”

“And with each passing day, the danger of war grows stronger,” Loor said somberly.

“So, Pendragon of the Yankees,” Bokka said. “Do you still feel as if you can help us prevent this catastrophe?”

I didn’t like the way he said that. It was all sorts of smug, as if he knew darn well I had no clue of how to keep these two tribes from killing each other. Unfortunately he was right. I didn’t.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” I said.

“I am torn, Bokka,” Loor said. “If the Batu are going to attack, I want to warn you. But then it would mean my own people would be at a disadvantage.”

Bokka took both of Loor’s arms and held her reassuringly. “I understand,” he said. “The only thing we can do is try and stop this from happening. But if it does, I am a Rokador, and you are a Batu. I am a Tiggen, you are a Ghee.”

They held eye contact. The grim reality was obvious. These two could very well end up having to fight each other. As much as I wasn’t sure about the guy, I wouldn’t want that to happen to Loor.

“If you hear anything,” Loor said, “please, contact me.”

“And the same for you,” Bokka said. “Good-bye, Loor. When we meet again, I hope it will be under better conditions… as it was when we were young.”

Loor nodded sadly.

“I don’t know who you are, Pendragon,” Bokka said to me. “But if Loor says you can help us, then I do not doubt her.”

I nodded. What else could I say to that?

“Good-bye, Loor,” Teek said. “And to you, Pendragon.”

Bokka took a step backward and flipped up his hood. Teek did the same. Bokka waved to the Tiggen guards behind our horses. I turned to look, but didn’t see them. I took a step to my right to get a glimpse of them, but it was too late. They were gone. Vanished into the sand. I turned back around to see that Bokka and Teek had disappeared as well.

“They’re like worms,” I said to Loor.

“There are tunnels everywhere,” Loor said. Without another word Loor strode back to her horse and mounted up. I did the same. We snapped the reins and started back to the city.

“So how is it you got so friendly with a Rokador?” I asked as we trotted along. “I thought the two tribes didn’t mingle.”

“At one time we did,” Loor answered. “Especially the children. Bokka and I were marked at an early age to be trained as warriors. There were two camps, one outside of Xhaxhu and one belowground. Groups would take turns traveling to the other camp. It was a way for us to learn the ways of our tribal neighbors.”

“Things have changed,” I said.

“Yes they have,” Loor said sadly. “That kind of cooperation no longer exists. The royal family of Zinj has been trying to bring our tribes back to the old ways, but prejudices and anger run too deep.”

“So, was this Bokka guy your…boyfriend?”

Loor thought about the answer. I didn’t like that. I wanted her to scoff and say: “Nah! Are you kidding?” But she didn’t.

“Under different circumstances, we may have ended up together,” she said sadly.

“I guess being from enemy tribes made that tricky,” I said.

“Yes,” she replied. “And finding out that I was a Traveler did not help either.”

Oh. Right. That. So she and Bokka were not meant to be. Awww, too bad. Man, am I being mean or what? I decided to change the subject.

“What about this royal family?” I asked. “Ninja something or other?”

“Zinj is the family name,” Loor corrected. “The crowned prince is named Pelle a Zinj. Though he has not yet taken the throne, he has slowly taken on the responsibilities of ruling the Batu. Even the Rokador recognize his wisdom. The king and queen are preparing to hand over the crown very soon.”

“Is that good or bad?” I asked.

“It is good,” Loor said confidently. “Very good. He will make a wonderful, fair leader. He has dedicated his life to forging a treaty with the Rokador. But I fear it will be in vain. The drought has seen to that.”

“Or maybe it was the Rokador who have seen to that,” I cautioned. “Like you said, there may be more to this drought than bad weather.”

It was a grim journey back to Xhaxhu. I now had a pretty good handle on what the trouble was here on Zadaa, but figuring out something to do about it was a whole nother matter. There seemed to be only two possibilities. One was that Saint Dane was somehow manipulating events. When he disappeared from the celebration at Black Water, he did say he was coming to Zadaa, and he never went to a territory just to hang out. The other possibility might actually be worse. If the rivers had dried up here simply because there was a funky weather thing happening, there was nothing anybody could do about that. The sad truth might be that a war between these two tribes was the way it was meant to be. It would be tragic, but the job of Travelers wasn’t to interfere with the normal course of a territory’s history. Our only concern was if Saint Dane tried to monkey with things. For Loor’s sake, I hoped that wasn’t the case. If Saint Dane wasn’t involved, then I had no business here. Loor was from Zadaa. She would have to do what she had to do. But I was from Second Earth. I would have to back off. This was going to be a tough call. But I couldn’t make it until I found Saint Dane. Or he found me.