Under the Moons of Nozittum Chapter 6

Chapter 6
Tyrany Of The Blue Moon

Dawn came on Uziddo was partly eclipsed by the planet, probably partway through one of it's phases. Nozittum had four moons, three of which had atmosphere and supported life, two of which supported a native humanoid populations. The dominant race of the second largest moon, Bokkum, looked something like the Mediggo but their ways and tongue were strange.
Trad and I walked along a path that curled among minor peaks, moving in and out of a rolling morning fog. He wore his slave's harness on his lithe golden body and I wore only a knife holster on my right thigh he'd given me to protect myself. We both went barefoot, which brought no pain as the paths were paved in a moss-like fungus that felt like a carpet under my feet.
“In the tales you hear about Nozittum,” I asked. “Have you ever heard of a palace called 'Cor'?”
A strange look came over Trad's features “They say that there's a power in that place. No, I'm not sure just where it is, but I know people have only mentioned it fearfully.”
“I think the man I'm looking for is there, as a prisoner or something.”
“If he is then you have a large task ahead of you, indeed.”
“That's what I was afraid of. Is it very far to your friend?”
“He's on the far side of this ridge. We ought to reach it well before halfday.”
The landscape looked to me like that in an oriental silkscreen: stunningly straight and tall rock peaks fading off into a misty horizon. Every now and then we encountered a tall spindly furry creature that looked a bit like a heavy stretched out goat, three horns on its head. They looked a little like the “mules” I encountered in my vision.
“Those are food to us,” Trad explained. “They're no good for riding. If you get lost and hungry, they're good eating.”
They mostly seemed to graze on clumps of reddish weeds that sprouted from between the rocks. “And the plants they eat?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Inedible. You'd only get sick.”
“I'll have to keep that in mind.”
“Don't worry, there'll be breakfast for you soon.”
I tickled him back. We'd made love again that morning and I began to think I'd have trouble telling him goodbye. But then, how many fine men had I done just that to?
We rounded a bend and started down a sloping section of the path.
Out of the sky there emerged a large object, too big to be a bird, I thought. It had a round central body that looked like a stretched out version of a child's tin top on its side. Four short wings came off the body at angles, forming a sort of x. They looked to me like cloth or perhaps skin stretch over wooden frames, forming bat or dragon wings. It came out fast.
I don't know how long I stared at it dumbstruck before Trad grabbed my arm and shouted “Run!”
I followed him as we scrambled down the steep path, in the same direction we'd been going. A sound like mortar fire shook me and puffs of pink smoke erupted along the ground near us. The flying machine dropped low, no doubt to improve their aim.
Trad went at an incredible pace, still troubling to look back and make sure I was still there. We came to a drop of about ten feet and he simply jumped it in one bound. I didn't have time to be impressed so I just did the same and wound up rolling and jumped up and ran to catch up.
The flying thing kept firing at us, kicking up more bursts of colored smoke.
The trail lead us down a small ravine and into a sort of half cave, really just a section capped off in a half dozen boulders. Overhead the whir of the flying things engines changed pace as it circled.
“Wait,” I said. “We can't outrun that thing, can we?”
Trad shook his head “The rocket-plane belongs to the overlord. A patrol for escaped slaves.”
“I guess we can't hide here long either.”
Smoke blew into the end of the cave where we'd entered.
“If we can get to the broken land below we might lose them.”
In the cracks between the boulders I saw the craft make another pass. It had an emblem on the side like three stylized triangles forming a lightning bolt. The moss on the trail caught fire.
I took his hand and headed for the other side “Alright, let's do that.”
We ran fast out the other end of the cave, down a narrow groove in the landscape and gradually snaked back out into mountain ledge. I looked around for the rocket plane and couldn't see it.
“The overlord's men,” I said. “Will they know where we're headed?”
“They might. There's only so many places to go.”
We ran on, along the roll of the soft trail. The sound of the craft buzzed along from somewhere and vanished, but it didn't appear. Our path became little more than a slim ledge, but I took it fast just as Trad did.
The way took us gradually down and then inward to close gaps between the peaks. The path forked off in spots but Trad went on without hesitating. There was much to admire in this youth and it made me optimistic about our chances.

We emerged into a clearing, a red-grassy hill wedged between the mountainside and a tooth of peak that crested a little above it. A trickle of water formed little pools in the rocks by the wall formed by the face.
Trad paused to fill his water-skin.
From the trail on either side of the clearing a handful of men emerged. They wore animal skin harness as well, only theirs had a carved crystal disc attached with the emblem of the overlord on it. I saw the cruel weapons and ropes dangling at their sides. All had pointed ears, but only one had gold skin like my companion. These were not handsome specimens, though.
Without hesitating, I pulled the blue steel knife and shouted “Leave us alone.”
The leader, a pot-bellied and bearded man with bloodshot eyes, pulled a rope from his harness as though I wasn't there “Come back with us, Trad. You'll get your lashes but the overlord will spare your life.” They began to close in on him.
Trad shook his head “I'm not going with you.”
The leader laughed. “This freak, whatever it is, can't protect you. You are property and you're returning to your master.”
No, they paid me no mind at all. In fact none of them bothered to look my way. None of these tools of the overlord had even bothered to draw his weapon. So I used mine.
I leapt on the nearest man and buried my blade in his chest. As he went down I pulled his sword and swung it high.
“I said to leave us alone.” I yelled.
Now they took notice.
The leader waved one of his men over “Kill this animal.”
I was no master swordsman, no musketeer or buccaneer, and these lengths of ornamented steel these creatures used looked to me like something out of Arabian Nights, but I knew that I would best these sad excuses for men.
The other gold man drew a length of steel, it's end bending into a cruel fang, the handle encrusted with jewels. He grinned at me from under a thin mustache and approached. I made fast for his heart, only to meet a quick perry, I ducked and rolled myself sideways as he came down at me in brutal slashes. I thrust again, but too shallow and only managed to dent a strap on his harness. It was enough to make him mad.
The brute dived at me, hacking to either side of me as I backed up in serpentine motion, slowly back up the hill. When he swung too far I kicked him in the teeth and leapt on him as he fell back. I took my weapon in both hands and sank it into his heart.
I saw the three remaining men trying to corner Trad, who only had something like a butcher's knife to defend himself with.
I ran over and slay one of them, not waiting to confront him.
But before I could pull my sword from the man's body his compatriot kicked me backwards and a net was cast over me.

Trad and I were bound and lead to the rocket plane. They cast us into the back roughly, like cargo. On the short flight I looked around a little at the interior, mostly of rude metals and fitted and riveted like the inside of a destroyer. I noticed that the frame was not complete and in places a  sort of colored skin made up the gaps in the hull. It looked like a kind of heavy paper.
My friend whispered to me “We are going to the overlord, to be whipped, or worse. I'm sorry, friend from the Earth, I haven't been much help at all.”
“Don't say that, Trad. We're alive and there's always hope.” To my surprise, I believed it.

From my limited view of the viewing screen I could see the rocket plane headed for a cliffside opening. It almost looked like the Indian dwellings of the Southwest United States, a small city carved out from the rock. We landed inside a kind of stone hangar.
Our captors pulled us out by our bonds and untied our feet so they could walk us along. The stone passages were lit with glowing crystals embedded in walls. Passing throughout the place I saw other Mediggo slaves going about various tasks, their heads down.
A fur curtain was thrust aside and we were lead into a very different portion of the place. Here the walls and floors were of a polished tile the walls were ornamented. The slaves we saw here were much cleaner, although still very dejected looking
Curiously, the men of this section, both slave and free, all had pierced ears.
We arrived in a large chamber with a high ceiling and a dais on the far end on which a cruel looking older bearded man sat on a mound of furs and silks, being fed and massaged by two youthful gold slaves, each of whom was bound by chains to rings in the floor. The bearded man was bald and laughing in a deep and sinful crackle.
Our guards announced us “My overlord! The escaped slave Trad and a freak of unknown origin.”
The overlord stood, letting his silks drop, revealing his nakedness and hard muscle “Trad! You in-grateful beast, you will be brought to my chamber to prepare for your punishment.”
A guard hauled him away and he was gone from my sight.
“Freak!” The overlord shouted at me. “What are you?”
“I'm from Earth.” I said simply.
“I don't know where that is,” he said. “But you are now a slave.