Read Online Quest Beyond Time by Tony Morphett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tony Morphett
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ground.
The girl moved toward him in a mocking, dancing walk. He grabbed for her. She dodged behind him and pushed, and set him swinging to and fro.
‘To me!’ he roared, ‘to me!’
At the campfire, the other three Yobbies heard the yell. They stood, put down the skewers they had been eating from, and ran into the forest.
Mike watched from the water as they disappeared into the darkness. He swam to the bank, and climbed out, drawing his borrowed knife from its sheath. He moved to the head of the beached boat, cut the mooring line and started pushing the boat back into the water.
In the forest, the Yobby swung from one foot. Of Katrin there was no sign. ‘To me!’ he yelled. The crashing in the forest showed that his call was being answered.
A moment later the three other Yobbies crashed out of the woods and stood staring at him. They nudged each other. They began to laugh.
‘Who is guarding the boat!’ yelled the Yobby on the rope.
They looked at each other. It did not take even River Yobbies more than a moment to work out that if they were all here, no one was back there. And that meant, even to a River Yobby, that no one was guarding the boat. The three of them turned and started back toward the boat.
‘Lief! Stay!’ shouted the upside-down Yobby. He was thinking that sometimes it was not easy to be a leader. One of the other Yobbies turned and ran back to him as the others crashed off through the woods toward the river.
Back at the river, Mike was tugging the boat out into the water. The boat was heavy, an easy lift for four Yobbies, not so easy for Mike. Katrin burst from the woods and ran to him, and together they slid the boat down into the river. Katrin leapt into it, carefully avoiding contact with the river. Mike looked back. He could not resist.
‘Mike!’
But Mike was already running back to the campfire, and grabbing up the untouched skewers of meat. He was hungry and the smell had been tantalizing him all the time he had been working.
As he turned from the fire, the two Yobbies who had come back to guard the boat crashed out of the woods into the firelight. They stopped, took in the scene and it penetrated their minds that all was not as it should be. If they thought slowly, they moved fast. One of the things they did very fast was to draw swords.
The swords rasped out of their scabbards, and they lifted them, running forward at Mike. Then one howled. Katrin’s throwing knife was in his wrist and he had dropped his sword.
She stood in the boat reaching another throwing knife from her boot as Mike raced toward her. He ducked and the knife whirred over his head. He heard another wild howl as he leapt into the boat, still carrying the skewers of meat. Then he grabbed up an oar and thrust them out into the stream.
One of the Yobbies, blood running from his wrist, ran into the water and grabbed for them. Mike swung the oar at him, knocking him off-balance. The Yobby slipped and fell into the water.
The stream was catching them, bearing them away. Mike sat and fixed the oars into the rowlocks and began rowing.
‘That was well done,’ said Katrin.
‘Don’t tell me it was well done till we’re out of here,’ Mike snarled.
‘We’ve escaped!’ she said.
‘You say they can swim,’ he answered, rowing hard.
‘Even River Yobbies aren’t stupid enough to swim here,’ she said. ‘It’s tidal. There are sharks.’
He closed his eyes as he continued to row. ‘Part of your plan,’ he said, ‘involved me swimming here.’
‘That’s different,’ she said. ‘You’re a warrior.’
He opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘I am?’
‘Well, you will be. One day.’
So he had not impressed her yet.
She was keeping an eye on the northern riverbank. After a while, she said ‘here’, and he rowed in to the bank. There were their packs, and his hang-glider and her bow and quiver of arrows.
They loaded them, then rowed on into the night.
CHAPTER 12
WHAT’S WORSE THAN RIVER
The girl moved toward him in a mocking, dancing walk. He grabbed for her. She dodged behind him and pushed, and set him swinging to and fro.
‘To me!’ he roared, ‘to me!’
At the campfire, the other three Yobbies heard the yell. They stood, put down the skewers they had been eating from, and ran into the forest.
Mike watched from the water as they disappeared into the darkness. He swam to the bank, and climbed out, drawing his borrowed knife from its sheath. He moved to the head of the beached boat, cut the mooring line and started pushing the boat back into the water.
In the forest, the Yobby swung from one foot. Of Katrin there was no sign. ‘To me!’ he yelled. The crashing in the forest showed that his call was being answered.
A moment later the three other Yobbies crashed out of the woods and stood staring at him. They nudged each other. They began to laugh.
‘Who is guarding the boat!’ yelled the Yobby on the rope.
They looked at each other. It did not take even River Yobbies more than a moment to work out that if they were all here, no one was back there. And that meant, even to a River Yobby, that no one was guarding the boat. The three of them turned and started back toward the boat.
‘Lief! Stay!’ shouted the upside-down Yobby. He was thinking that sometimes it was not easy to be a leader. One of the other Yobbies turned and ran back to him as the others crashed off through the woods toward the river.
Back at the river, Mike was tugging the boat out into the water. The boat was heavy, an easy lift for four Yobbies, not so easy for Mike. Katrin burst from the woods and ran to him, and together they slid the boat down into the river. Katrin leapt into it, carefully avoiding contact with the river. Mike looked back. He could not resist.
‘Mike!’
But Mike was already running back to the campfire, and grabbing up the untouched skewers of meat. He was hungry and the smell had been tantalizing him all the time he had been working.
As he turned from the fire, the two Yobbies who had come back to guard the boat crashed out of the woods into the firelight. They stopped, took in the scene and it penetrated their minds that all was not as it should be. If they thought slowly, they moved fast. One of the things they did very fast was to draw swords.
The swords rasped out of their scabbards, and they lifted them, running forward at Mike. Then one howled. Katrin’s throwing knife was in his wrist and he had dropped his sword.
She stood in the boat reaching another throwing knife from her boot as Mike raced toward her. He ducked and the knife whirred over his head. He heard another wild howl as he leapt into the boat, still carrying the skewers of meat. Then he grabbed up an oar and thrust them out into the stream.
One of the Yobbies, blood running from his wrist, ran into the water and grabbed for them. Mike swung the oar at him, knocking him off-balance. The Yobby slipped and fell into the water.
The stream was catching them, bearing them away. Mike sat and fixed the oars into the rowlocks and began rowing.
‘That was well done,’ said Katrin.
‘Don’t tell me it was well done till we’re out of here,’ Mike snarled.
‘We’ve escaped!’ she said.
‘You say they can swim,’ he answered, rowing hard.
‘Even River Yobbies aren’t stupid enough to swim here,’ she said. ‘It’s tidal. There are sharks.’
He closed his eyes as he continued to row. ‘Part of your plan,’ he said, ‘involved me swimming here.’
‘That’s different,’ she said. ‘You’re a warrior.’
He opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘I am?’
‘Well, you will be. One day.’
So he had not impressed her yet.
She was keeping an eye on the northern riverbank. After a while, she said ‘here’, and he rowed in to the bank. There were their packs, and his hang-glider and her bow and quiver of arrows.
They loaded them, then rowed on into the night.
CHAPTER 12
WHAT’S WORSE THAN RIVER
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