The fifth book in the exciting Star Rider, space opera series, Call of the Eagle, has just be published and is now available on Amazon as a print book.
Here is the first chapter:
1 White Sand Desert
Baymond awoke to the rustling sound of his father entering the tent.
“Time to get up,” Michio said. “The tribe’s breaking camp.”
Baymond sat up, fear hammering through him. Samrat soldiers would be searching for him and his parents and their only chance of survival was hiding among the Bajava tribal people. He rubbed his forehead, feeling thickheaded with fatigue after only four hours of sleep, but he knew it would pass once he got moving.
His mother yawned and looked at her watch. “Why are they breaking camp so early?”
Michio began rolling up his sleeping blanket. “They travel in the cooler part of the day and rest when the sun reaches its zenith. Baymond, we need to report for guard duty. Touch up your face paint before joining the other men.” Michio already resembled a Bajava warrior. He’d grown a beard, blue streaks shone in his dark hair, and a pattern of lines and dots were freshly painted on his forehead. He was dressed in the tribe’s traditional male clothing: a wide-sleeved shirt and light-colored pants.
Toemeka pulled a kaftan over her knit top and the close-fitting pants she’d slept in, then stuffed her blanket into her saddlebag. Her movements were quick, efficient and nervous. “I’ll keep guard with you.”
“Sorry, that’s not an option,” Michio said, opening the tent flap. “All the guards are men. We can’t do anything to cause suspicion. Only Einherjar and his wife Qara Boke know we’re from another planet. The rest of the tribe thinks I’m Einherjar’s brother from another tribe.” He left the tent.
“How long have you been traveling with the tribe?” Baymond asked his mother.
“We met Einherjar a few days ago through the Resistance. This will be our first day traveling with them. We have limited knowledge of their rules and traditions.” She pulled out several small jars and opened them.
Baymond dipped three fingers into the jar with cobalt blue dye and ran them through his black hair to add streaks. His normally short hair had grown long during the nearly six months he’d been in hiding. After adding the blue streaks to his hair and beard, he rubbed brown cream on his neck and the upper half of his face to darken it. “You and Dad both have deep tans. How long have you been on planet Saroka?”
“More than four months. We left home and made the long voyage to Saroka soon after Jake notified us that your G-4 Tornado fighter was hit by anti-aircraft shells and you were missing in action.” She started applying a pattern of red and white dots and lines on his forehead. It was strange to feel her tender touch and unconditional love as if he were still a child. He hadn’t seen her in almost two years. At sixteen, he’d lied about his age and joined the Coalition of Free Nations to become a fighter pilot.
She sat back and studied her work. “You won’t need brown face paint for long. You’ve always tanned easily. Why are you so pale?”
He rubbed brown paint on his hands. “I had to stay indoors so no one would discover where I was hiding.”
“Where were you hiding?”
“A young woman saw me parachute out of my fighter and her family hid me from Samrat Condor’s soldiers over the winter.”
Toemeka hugged him tightly. “I was afraid you were dead. There wasn’t any trace of your whereabouts until you were arrested and imprisoned.”
He felt her tremble as he hugged her back. “I’m all right now, Mom.”
“You must have been terrified, knowing you were about to be executed.”
“They thought I was a spy—I was out of uniform.”
“Being a prisoner of war wouldn’t have been a much better fate.”
“I spent the last four days in prison with a man named Norgrin.” Baymond pulled a small carved eagle out of his pocket and handed it to her. “He carved this for me using nothing but a small stone shard.”
His mother examined it. “It’s a beautiful carving.”
“Norgrin saw an eagle in his dream right before I was put in his cell. When he met me, he knew I was the eagle, the enlightened soul.”
“Interesting that he recognized you as the eagle from his dream.” She handed it back.
“He was a holy man and saw a vision.”
“I’m glad you had him as your cell mate. You’d better go join your father. I need to take down the tent.”
The tent was a primitive, handmade structure of cloth over wood poles. Nothing like the lightweight pop-up tents Baymond was used to. “Do you want some help?”
“No, the tribe considers it women’s work. You’d better go get your orders for the day.”
Baymond took a piece of meat jerky out of his saddlebag and began chewing it as he left the tent. It tasted gritty and probably had sand on it, but he was too hungry to throw it away. Outside, the sun was rising and the camp was already bursting with activity. The women were taking down the tents and packing the supplies. The children were carrying blankets over to the khevons. The sandy-colored beasts had large ears and a brown stripe down the center of their backs.
He looked in the other direction toward the desert. White sand stretched as far as he could see, with rolling dunes in the distance. It was devoid of life and eerily silent, contrasting with his memory of the woods near where he’d grown up that teemed with life.
Baymond’s gaze returned to camp. The guards were gathered around Einherjar, the tribal chief. He hurried over to them.
***
After taking down the tent, Toemeka tied it and their saddlebags onto the khevons. Michio and Baymond came over and thanked her, then mounted and rode off to patrol with the other men.
Once the caravan was ready to move on, Toemeka walked alongside Qara Boke. The elders and young rode in the wagons. The older children were in charge of the flock of neeree and of collecting the furry animal’s dung in baskets to use for fires. The neeree were funny-looking creatures with bushy tails that curled over their bodies and shaded their heads.
As she trudged along, Toemeka was glad she didn’t have a baby or toddler tied to her back like many of the women. She was still getting used to the heat and wasn’t looking forward to a day of walking across the sand in the sun. She adjusted her cloth head-covering so it covered her nose and mouth to keep from breathing in fine particles of sand.
After a while, an attractive young tribal woman joined them, introducing herself as Chrisshawna. Toemeka knew enough of the Deutzian language to hold a simple conversation. Chrisshawna was curious about Baymond and asked several questions about him, including if he had a wife.
When Chrisshawna wandered away to talk to some women her own age, Qara Boke stared thoughtfully after her. “Your son is handsome and strong, and Chrisshawna thinks he’s Einherjar’s nephew. You’ll have to warn him to stay away from her to avoid trouble. Bajava fathers are ferociously protective of their daughters, and young men don’t speak privately to girls of marriageable age without their father’s permission.”
Toemeka frowned uneasily “Thank you for warning me. Baymond’s used to men and women interacting freely. He’d think nothing of talking to one of the girls.” The last thing she wanted was trouble when Einherjar and Qara Boke had done so much for them. “Thank you for helping us.”
“It’s only right when your son came here to fight our common enemy.”
The morning grew hotter and hotter, and the tribe’s pace slowed. Sweat dripped down Toemeka’s forehead, and she felt it gather on her chest and back. “How much longer until we rest?” She stopped to take a drink from her water flask.
“We’ll stop soon. Your face is flushed. Walking is hard for people not used to the desert.”
The heat grew worse, and Toemeka felt like she was in an oven being roasted alive. She didn’t think she could go much further without rest.
Fortunately, Einherjar rode by on his khevon yelling, “We’ll break here.”
Toemeka helped set out the food and cut cheese made from the milk of the comical-looking neeree. After her morning trek, their bushy tails seemed to be sensible protection from the fierce sun. She placed the cheese on pottery plates, along with flatbread and dried fruit. While the meal was prepared, the men gathered in council, except for a few guards who rode the perimeter of the camp and scouted the desert.
When the council broke up, she brought plates over to Michio and Baymond.
Michio studied her. “You look exhausted.”
“Walking in this desert heat is draining. I’d prefer riding a sand tiger.”
Baymond finished chewing his cheese. “Maybe you could ride in one of the wagons.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not that old.”
He felt his face heat up. “I didn’t mean to imply you were, but you were up most of the night searching the desert for Dad.”
“I’ll lie down after I eat.”
Baymond yawned. “So will I. Can you stay and eat with us?”
“That’s not the custom here.” Toemeka returned to where Qara Boke was visiting with the other women. After washing down a piece of cheese with some water, she glanced around for a place to sleep and spotted a rock outcrop a short distance from camp that would provide some shade. Once she’d hiked to it, she lay down on the shady side.
Toemeka was just about to sleep when Michio yelled, “Toemeka, look out!” Instantly alert, she sat up. An enormous reptile was racing toward her. Terrified, she glanced around for something to defend herself with. Spotting a rock, she grabbed it and sprang to her feet. The lizard-like creature looked to be nine feet long and was approaching fast. She shouted at it and hurled the rock at its head. It bounced off its scales. The creature stood still, its round eyes watching her as it raised and lowered itself on its two front legs. Then it leapt at her.
A sharp crack reverberated in the air. The beast twisted in the air and fell to the ground. Still alive, it spun around and started toward Michio who had almost reached it. He fired his rifle at the creature’s head two more times. It thrashed back and forth on the sand for a few minutes, then lay still.
Toemeka pressed her hand against her breast, feeling her heart race. She stared at the reptile in horror, realizing how close she’d come to being torn to shreds. Rifle in hand, Michio hurried over to her and drew her into his arms.
Einherjar rode up on his khevon. “Did the zellar monster bite either of you?”
Michio glanced at her, and she shook her head. “No, we’re both all right,” he said.
“I should have warned you to stay in camp, Toemeka,” Einherjar said. “Zellar monsters are rare, but their bite is deadly. Its venom paralyzes its prey to make eating it easy.”
Baymond arrived a moment later. “You all right, Mother?”
“Yes, just shaken.” She stared at the zellar monster. It was unusual looking with a gray and white striped body and a long, thick blue tail.
“That thing must weigh eight-hundred pounds,” Baymond said, studying it.
Michio gave it a poke with his foot. “It probably weighs more than that.”
Qara, Chrisshawna and some other women hurried over.
Chrisshawna gaped at the creature. “That’s a big one.”
“The desert gods are merciful!” Qara Boke said. “Few survive an attack by a zellar monster. It’s fortunate your husband was watching out for you, Toemeka.”
“I’m very lucky.” Toemeka felt Michio’s arm tighten around her.
Chrisshawna pulled her knife out of its sheath at her waist. “The meat from a zellar monster is delicious. Baymond, can you and your dad help flip it onto its back so we can slice through its soft belly? The scales on its back are too hard to cut through.”
Einherjar dismounted and, with the aid of his khevon and a rope, the three men managed to flip the creature onto its back. Qara Boke sliced down the middle of its stomach then she and Chrisshawna started cutting it up. The other women wrapped the chunks of meat in pieces of leather.
Chrisshawna smiled at Baymond. “We’ll have a feast tonight.”
Baymond grinned back. “Sounds great. I can’t remember the last time I had a feast. Can I help cut up the meat?”
She laughed. “That’s women’s work.”
Toemeka uneasily watched the friendly exchange. “Baymond, will you walk back to camp with us?”
He looked away from the butchering of the zellar monster. “Sure, what’s up?” He headed back to camp with his parents. Once they were out of earshot of the others, Toemeka related the warning Qara Boke had given about talking to young women of marriageable age.
“What a stupid custom,” Baymond said.
Toemeka narrowed her eyes. “Stupid or not, you’ll follow it, okay?”
“Yeah sure. I don’t want to be forced to marry Chrisshawna no matter how beautiful she is.” He looked back at the girl under discussion.
His parents exchanged a concerned glance.
Once all the meat was packed up, the camp moved on. Baymond rode alongside his father, guarding the perimeter of the camp. He was more diligent now that he knew to look out for zellar monsters as well as enemy soldiers and bandits. Einherjar said bandits weren’t likely to attack a large, guarded camp, but they’d been known to ride in firing rifles, snatch what they wanted, and ride off again.
“How long will we travel with the tribe?” Baymond asked.
“A few weeks. Once we reach the Hawyan Mountains, we’ll leave them and cross the mountains alone. On the other side is a coastal village that’s in unoccupied territory. Once there, we’ll contact Jake and he’ll fly us—” The rest of his words were drowned out by the roar of engines. Baymond apprehensively gazed upward. The inhabitants of planet Saroka didn’t have any aircraft, so it could only be an enemy. Soon a Talon fighter appeared overhead, flying low. Baymond clenched his jaw, recognizing it as one of the spaceships he’d fought in aerial battles on the missions he’d flown. A patrol ship had landed near the caravan the day before and searched the camp. The soldiers hadn’t recognized him in his tribal disguise, but he couldn’t count on the same thing happening today.
The fighter slowed, circled around and flew over them a second time. Baymond knew it carried enough firepower to destroy the entire tribe in minutes.
“Stay centered and control your thoughts,” Michio said, startling him. “They probably have a sorcerer on board powerful enough to detect anything unusual.”
Baymond immediately put up an inner shield of light and took a calming breath, grateful for his father’s presence. Michio was the spiritual leader of the Secret Teachings and served as an inner and outer teacher and guide to his followers. Most of the time Baymond just thought of him as his father, but in moments like this Master Michio’s heightened awareness, serenity and love enabled Baymond to find his own inner stillness.
Together father and son watched the ship, relaxed, but ready to take action if needed.
When it finally flew off, Baymond sighed with relief, thankful he and his parents weren’t alone in the vast desert with no place to hide.
***
That evening, the desert air became pleasantly cool. After setting up camp, Einherjar and Qara Boke invited Michio, Toemeka, and Baymond to join them for an evening feast of zellar monster meat, cactus pads and flowers, and flatbread. Several families were already gathered around a large fire when they arrived.
Around camp, other groups were doing the same thing. Apparently, Baymond thought, families ate together for celebrations.
Chrisshawna handed him a piece of raw zellar monster meat on a skewer. “This is the best part. It’s the inner piece of the tail.”
Baymond thanked her then squatted by the fire and held the meat over some coals, wondering what the meat would taste like. The wind shifted and he breathed in the burnt grass smell of the neeree dung smoke.
Other tribal members held out their skewers competing for the same spot of red coals. The smell of meat cooking made Baymond’s stomach rumble. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good meal. Food had grown short at Rissa’s and in prison the gruel and watery soup had left him perpetually hungry. One time his soup had an eyeball floating in it.
He turned his stick in the fire so the meat would be browned equally on all sides. It was taking too long to cook so he put it directly over the flames. It quickly became charcoal on the outside and he moved it back to the coals.
The wind blew smoke into his face, making his eyes water. He squeezed them shut, opening them again when the wind shifted.
Finally the meat looked and smelled done and he stepped away from the fire. He was so hungry by now that he didn’t care what it tasted like. He blew on the meat to cool it off and took a bite. It painfully burnt his tongue. He blew on it some more, then took another bite and chewed it slowly, analyzing the meat’s flavor. It was sharp and slightly fishy with a firm and chewy texture.
He looked up and saw Chrisshawna watching him across the fire. She smiled. “Good?”
He nodded, unable to reply with his mouth full.
“Have another piece.” She came over to him and held out a piece of raw meat. He put it on his skewer and held it over the coals, snacking on a cactus flower as it cooked.
Qara Boke wiped meat juice off her chin. “I love zellar monster meat. Thanks for killing it, Michio.”
Michio looked warmly at Toemeka. “I didn’t kill it for its meat.”
“The White Sand Desert is full of creatures,” Einherjar said. “As well as zellar monsters, there are poisonous insects and snakes, but none of them are as dangerous as the Talon soldiers.”
Baymond was sorry the tribal chief had brought up soldiers. He wanted to enjoy the evening and relax, but now tension was tight in his chest.
He heard the pounding of drums, then the lighter notes of flutes and stringed instruments joined in. Baymond turned toward the music floating on the air.
Einherjar rose. “A celebration wouldn’t be complete without music. Come.” He led the way to where a group of musicians had gathered.
Baymond listened, entranced. He missed playing his flute and asked the flautist if he could borrow the instrument. The man handed him the flute. As he began to play, everything faded away and he felt transported to a different world.
When he finished, he noticed Chrisshawna and others from the tribe had gathered around to hear him play. He handed the instrument back to its owner and thanked him.
Chrisshawna drew close. “That was amazing.”
“It’s a fine instrument,” Baymond said, still feeling the joy of having played it.
He continued listening to the music, absorbed in its sound when he noticed that a man with a distinctive blue beard was staring at him and Chrisshawna with a stern scowl.
Was the man Chrisshawna’s father?
He left her side and walked over to where his parents stood.
Toemeka smiled at him. “I loved hearing you play the flute.” She put her hand over her mouth as she began to yawn.
“It’s getting late,” Michio said. “Let’s go to bed.”
As they headed to their tent, a feeling of peacefulness settled over Baymond. He looked across the vast desert and at the expansive starlit sky above.
“It’s beautiful here,” his mother said as they all stopped to enjoy the view.
“Yes, it is,” Baymond said. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you both for rescuing me.” It concerned him that his parent’s lives were endangered because they’d come to planet Saroka to rescue him. Yet they both looked strong and fit; capable of surviving in this war-torn world. They’d seemed old to him when he was sixteen. Now he’d revised his thinking, in their mid-forties they were in the prime of life. They’d flown across the galaxy, found him, and successfully sprung him out of prison.
“Jake helped us find you,” Michio said. “He’s been searching for you ever since your ship crashed landed on Saroka. News of you didn’t surface until you were arrested.”
Baymond nodded, he wasn’t surprised Jake was hunting for him. He was a family friend and a skilled senior pilot who’d been training fighter pilots at the space station when he’d been shot down. “It’s really good to see both of you again. I’ve been lonely at times so far from home, family, and friends.” A lump formed in Baymond’s throat. He wanted to know about Fawn but was hesitant to ask. News that she was married would be hard to hear, but perhaps uncertainty was worse. “I’ve been wondering how . . . you know, how Princess Fawniteen is doing?”
“We’ve been gone almost as long as you’ve been missing in action,” his father replied. “We’ve had little contact with home.”
“Mother said the twins are staying at the Marsindi Palace,” he said, wondering about his younger siblings, Desha and Keegin. They’d be sixteen now and must miss their parents.
“We thought they’d enjoy the company of Fawn and her siblings,” his father said.
“Aren’t Queen Koriann and Prince Erling worried that one of their sons will fall in love with Desha?” Baymond bit his lip. “Sorry, that just slipped out. Did you know that Prince Erling offered to break off Fawn’s engagement to Prince Radcliff, so she and I could marry, but she told him not to?”
“Only because she was concerned about causing trouble between our country and the prince’s,” Mother said. “Your father and I went to see her soon after we found out you were missing in action, because Erling was worried about her. She’d shut herself up in her room and didn’t eat or sleep for days. She was recovering when she received your necklace and letter. That convinced her you knew you were going to die and she broke down a second time.”
“She was doing better when we left,” Father said.
Baymond sighed deeply. “It would be best if she forgot me. I take it she isn’t married yet, if she’s still at the Marsindi palace.” He squatted and picked up a handful of warm sand, letting it run through his fingers. Fawn was like the sand, he thought. She’d slipped through his fingers even though he’d tried to hold her close.
“Not that we know of,” Toemeka said, “but King Anthrop is in poor health and his last wish is to see his son married. It wouldn’t surprise me if Fawn consents to marry before her eighteenth birthday out of love for the old king.”
“I guess it wouldn’t really matter if she marries a few months early.”
“Have you come to terms with her engagement?” Michio asked.
Baymond stood back up, heavyhearted with resignation. “More or less.”
He could feel his mother’s eyes on him and knew she understood he was still healing.
“We’d better go to bed,” Michio said. “The tribe will move on early tomorrow morning, and we’re all short of sleep.”
They hiked to the tent in silence.
***
Eight days later, Baymond was riding with Einherjar and two other scouts when they spotted the small oasis the tribe was headed toward. When they rode into the shade cast by some tall desert trees, Baymond immediately sensed something was wrong. As he drew near the watering hole, the smell of rotting meat hit his nostrils, then he spotted the carcasses of several small animals in the grass. His khevon tried to gallop to the small pond for a drink, but Baymond held him back.
Einherjar and the two scouts dismounted and examined the dead animals and the water hole. “It’s been poisoned,” Einherjar said. “We’ll have to travel on to the next watering hole.”
“Who would have poisoned a precious source of water?” Baymond asked.
“Bandits wanting to steal our trade goods,” Einherjar said. “They’ll expect any traveler to go from here to the next closest watering hole where they’re probably waiting to attack. We’ll continue to the mountains instead. I think we can make it before our water runs out, if we ration it.”
He looked at the scouts. “Travel to the two nearest watering holes so we can find out where the bandits lay in wait.”
After the scouts left, Einherjar said to Baymond, “You and your parents need to separate from the tribe tonight. Have your parents call the sand tigers. If you travel at night and in the cool part of the day, you can make it to the Hawyan Mountains in about three days. There’s no point in involving you with our tribe’s troubles.”
“We should stay to help defend your people.”
“You and your parents are three more people using up our precious water supply, and you’re a danger to our entire tribe if the Samrat soldiers come back and discover you among us. Only the grace of the desert gods has kept them from recognizing you when they searched our camp.”
“We owe you so much. It doesn’t feel right to abandon your tribe in its time of need.”
“My people know how to disappear into the desert and our bodies are different from yours. We can exist on little water for a long period of time. You can’t. Don’t worry about us. My people were living in the desert long before you were born and will continue to live here after you turn to dust.
“The Samrat air troops are a much more serious danger than bandits,” Einherjar continued. “We are dependent on the Coalition air fleet to drive them off and save our planet.”
Einherjar and Baymond rode back to the cavern and shared the news about the poisoned waterhole with the other men. Afterwards, Baymond found his mother and relayed Einherjar’s instructions.
“Michio’s still out scouting,” she said, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him on his khevon. “When he returns to the caravan, we’ll call the sand tigers and prepare to leave tonight.”
Baymond dismounted. “Don’t you think we should stay and help the tribe?”
“Einherjar’s been generous to us, but now he needs to focus on the needs of his people.”
Baymond looked around at the women and children and wasn’t convinced the tribe didn’t need their help fighting the bandits. Yet Einherjar was right: if the Samrat soldiers found him among them, the whole tribe would be killed.
His mother touched his arm. “I’ll go talk to Einherjar and ask him what route we should take to the mountains. I’m worried we’ll be vulnerable to aircraft searching for us once we leave the tribe and are alone in the desert. Perhaps he knows of some caves, rock outcrops, or other places we can hide.”
She left and Baymond started walking his khevon over to the herd. Chrisshawna appeared and started walking beside him.
He tensed, wishing she wouldn’t keep seeking him out. He’d found out from Einherjar that the man with the blue beard was her father. His name was Seaden and he was known for having a quick temper.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered. “Why aren’t we going to the oasis?”
He turned toward her, noticing how pretty she looked in her flowing desert clothing. “The watering hole was poisoned.”
“Don’t look at me!” she whispered. “I don’t want anyone to see us talking.”
He looked away. “Einherjar suspects bandits poisoned it. He sent scouts out to see where they are so the tribe can avoid them.”
“Bandits! By the goddesses of the golden sands, I hope they don’t find us. They’ve attacked other bands and stolen young women as well as all their goods.”
Baymond couldn’t help but glance at her again and their eyes met. He wondered what it would be like to marry Chrisshawna and live in the desert. The nomadic way of life offered a great deal of freedom.
The scuff of a heel sounded behind him and a rough hand grabbed his upper arm, wheeling him around so that he faced Seaden. The man’s eyes blazed and his face was blotched red with anger. “How dare you talk to my daughter without my permission! Do you think you can get away with it because you’re Einherjar’s nephew?
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