The Cache

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Authors: Philip José Farmer
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believe it when I tell her of it.”
    “De po e de wote,” said Zhem. “The Father of the Waters. Do you want to ride toward Kaywo, elder brother?”
    “Kaywo it is,” said Benoni. “I can’t wait.”
    They rode northwards along the shore of the great river. After half a day, they came to a rough dirt road and followed it. They went around a small stockaded village. Zhem said they could skirt a certain number. However, according to what he understood, the villages and farms became very numerous. They would encounter an army fort. Then, what happened would be in the hands of The Great Black God.
    Benoni was a little jolted to hear this. He had always thought of Jehovah as being white. But, now he thought about it he had never seen Jehovah. Nor did he know anyone who had seen Him. So, how did he know what He looked like?
    Benoni and Zhem had crossed the Kaywo border at a point above the frontier forts. According to Zhem, there were forts along every major road in the empire. It was inevitable that soldiers would find them. So, it would be best to present themselves at the first fort they came to. After a half day’s riding, they found their chance. They came to a little valley the entrance of which was walled with boulders cemented to a height of twenty feet. Two guards challenged their right to go through the big iron gateway. Zhem, speaking Kaywo hesitantly, asked to see the officer of the guard. Two other soldiers were called. These conducted the strangers through the gateway. Outside a large stone building, Benoni and Zhem dismounted. They were led into the building, through several rooms, and finally faced the commandant of the fort.
    The captain was a big dark man with a snub nose, thick. lips, and curly hair that hung down the back of his neck. He wore a shiny silver-embossed steel helmet topped by a scarlet roach of dyed horsehair, a cuirass molded to fit his torso, a green kilt, and yellow leggings. He asked them what they wanted. Benoni could understand a word here and there, but the main sense was lost to him. Zhem translated for him.
    Zhem replied that he was from the kingdom of Mngumwa. His blood-brother came from a place nobody had ever heard of. It was called Fiiniks, and it lay in the middle of a burning desert a thousand miles or more to the southwest.
    The captain, Viyya, looked at Benoni with interest. He rose from his desk and walked staring around Benoni. Then he laughed and said something to Zhem.
    “He says he’s never seen anybody with skin like iron on the soles of his feet,” said Zhem. “He says your name should not be Rider, for he sees no callouses on your buttocks. It should be Ironfoot.”
    “So you two want to join the Foreign Legion and fight for the glory of Kaywo and the Pwez Lezpet?” he said. “What crimes have you committed that you had to flee your native countries?”
    Zhem told him the story of his capture by Benoni, though he neglected to mention that his war party had murdered a farmer and his family. He explained also the reasons for Benoni’s presence here.
    “A strange tale,” said the captain. “A suspicious tale. If it were not for his ironshod feet, I might doubt it. However, we’ll see. You two will be conducted to the capital where the Usspika might be interested in your story. He had ordered that anybody from the unknown lands be taken to him. I do not know why, nor am I supposed to know.”
    He then gave orders for the two to surrender their arms. Tomorrow, they would start their journey, under escort, to the capital. There, they could begin their training as rookies in the Foreign Legion. If they could qualify as worthy fighting men, they would be sworn. If they did not, they would be sold as slaves. If they misbehaved, their heads might be cut off and placed on poles.
    Benoni did not understand the full meaning of the last remark. Next day, after he was put into a cage on a wagon, and the wagon drove along the smooth highway with its great slabs of stone,

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