An Alex Hawk Time Travel Adventure | Book 3 | Return from Kragdon-Ah, стр. 43
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Senta-eh and two other archers had nocked arrows and were holding steady aim.
In the universal language, Alex said, “Stop. Drop to the ground now.”
The two men looked at the arrows leveled at them, then at Monda-ak who stood at the ready, fur standing on end and growling low in his chest. They quickly did as they were told.
Alex turned to Klipta-ak and said, “Tell them what is happening.”
In his own language, Klipta-ak rattled off a long monolog. Alex glanced at Harta-ak, who let him know he was doing as he was supposed to.
Alex looked up and saw a structure built forty feet or so above the ground. It was a decent platform for something that was only intended to be temporary. There were crates of traka-ta like Alex had hijacked in Lasta-ah, and a small lean-to. At the base of the tree was a fire pit with a small fire. A hare had been skinned and was lying next to a pot.
Alex pointed at the two men and said, “Tie them up and sit them over by the tree.” He turned to Klipta-ak and said, “My men will climb up and get whatever weapons they’ve got, then I want you to write the letter. Then write it again. We’ll send both messages out with the traka-ta tonight.”
Two of the Winten-ah clambered easily up the rope ladder. The search didn’t take long. Two minutes later, they slipped back down with a short stabbing sword tucked into their belts.
“Go ahead,” Alex said to Klipta-ak. “Write the messages.”
The rest of the Winten-ah dismounted, and Alex directed them to take the horses to a stream he could hear running a few yards away.
Alex sat down and looked at the two men who had been left behind. They looked much the same as everyone he encountered in Kragdon-ah—very tall, athletic, dark brown skin, long, wavy dark hair held back in a loose tie.
The minutes ticked by slowly. Alex felt drowsy in the late afternoon heat. He felt like he hadn’t slept well since his team hadn’t come back many days before.
Eventually, Klipta-ak climbed back down the ladder and handed two small sheets of paper to Alex.
Alex turned them over in his hand and looked at the strange characters. There was no similarity to English or any other language that Alex had ever seen.
“Do these say what I asked you to say?”
“Of course,” Klipta-ak said.
Alex nodded, thoughtfully, then over his shoulder, said, “Harta-ak, come introduce yourself to Klipta-ak. Klipta-ak, this is Harta-ak from Lasta-ah, son of Granta-ak.”
Alex’s eyes never left Klipta-ak’s face, gauging his reaction.
Klipta-ak’s eyes widened as he looked at Harta-ak. “I... I met your father,” he stammered. “He was a good man.”
“Until someone killed him,” Harta-ak agreed levelly. He held his hand out and Alex gave him the sheets of paper.
“Read what it says to me,” Alex said.
Chapter EighteenHarsh Negotiations
Harta-ak turned the paper until it caught a beam of sunlight.
“We are captured. The one who burned our city is the devil. He outsmarted us. He trapped but did not kill us all. There are still 23 of us alive.” Harta-ak looked at Alex. “There is a list of men’s names then.”
Alex’s eyes were hard as flints and he took one threatening step toward Klipta-ak, whose head hung low.
Harta-ak continued. “The devil says he will let us go if you say you will not attack us. For the sake of us all, send a message back that you will no longer attack Winten-ah. It is signed Klipta-ak.”
Alex smiled at Klipta-ak. “Devil, eh? I guess I like that well enough.” To Harta-ak, he said, “Can you tell which traka-ta will return here and which will go to Lasta-ah?”
“Of course. Different cages for different purposes.” He turned to Klipta-ak and said, “You haven’t changed the system, have you?”
Klipta-ak looked relieved that Alex had not taken offense at being called a devil. “No. It’s as it always was.”
“I think he’s telling the truth. They don’t ever expect to be in this situation because no one near here knows about the traka-ta. Except you.”
“Send the messages.” As Harta-ak climbed up the ladder to the cages, Alex called after him, “How long will it take the traka-ta to go to Lasta-ah and back?”
Harta-ak stopped, running calculations in his head. “At least a full cycle of the moon.”
Not exactly instantaneous communication, then, but a lot faster than riding a horse a few thousand miles and back.
“Count the traka-ta, too.”
Harta-ak leaned over the platform and said, “Eight birds total. Five that are homed to right here and three that will return to Lasta-ah.”
“Hand down the three that will return to Lasta-ah,” Alex said, climbing up the swinging rope ladder. “I don’t want them sending any other messages.” One by one, Harta-ak turned and handed those three small crates down to Alex, who passed them to Senta-eh. He hopped down the final distance, then walked to the two terrified Lasta-ah warriors.
“Show me your hands.”
When they held their hands out, Alex untied them, then used the rope to tie the three bird cages across the hindquarters of Reggie’s furry pony.
“Klipta-ak, climb up,” Alex said. He turned to the two Lasta-ah who remained. “I am going to leave you here to care for the traka-ta. If you run away, and attempt to go home, they will starve. You are in our territory. Just like we found Klipta-ak and the rest of the men, we will find you, and we will kill you.”
Alex and his crew mounted their horses and turned back toward Winten-ah.
When they were a few hundred yards down the path, Senta-eh said, “Was that wise to leave them alone?”
Alex shrugged. It was a gesture he had never lost and by now, she knew what it meant, though she hadn’t adapted it herself. “I didn’t want