This is another novel I’m hoping to complete this year, finally. It’s a prequel to my Silk Road Series books (The Golden Dragon, The Emerald Emperor and The Blade of Shiva) and follows the exciting life of the 13th Century architect Bokran, whose writings lead our modern heroes on their own adventures across Asia.
This excerpt finds an eight year-old BahrAm (Bokran) and his best friend Jassim, trying to recapture a runaway goat one dark night before BahrAm’s father finds out. It gives us a glimpse of the future Bokran who will accompany Marco Polo and the Chinese warrior Sung on their adventures; a boy who is small and terrified, but who never backs away from his fears…
It was now full dark and the going was even more difficult, especially with a stubborn goat, but it wasn’t long before they found the path again and started down with the animal between them. Both boys were relieved.
“See,” Jassim gloated, “what did I say? Your father will never know this happened.”
Just then, the goat stopped and stood stock-still. Jassim ran into its rear while BahrAm was almost pulled backward when the rope went taut. He looked back, but couldn’t see much, just the blob of Jassim’s head over the back of the light-colored goat.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” Jassim’s voice wafted out of the blackness, “It just stopped.” He put his hands on the goat’s rear to push it again, but felt the beast’s haunches quivering uncontrollably, “It’s shaking…like it’s cold.”
A shock of adrenaline ran through BahrAm’s chest, “Or it’s frightened.”
Then they heard it; the clack of small stones coming together and the low buzz of an animal drawing a breath through a saliva-filled throat.
Both boys froze and Jassim felt a tiny squirt of urine run down his leg, “Is it a wolf?” he hissed.
“No, there are no wolves here. You know that. It’s worse,” BahrAm fought to keep his voice low. His heart was threatening to jump out of his chest, “It’s a leopard.”
He looked downslope. His house was a mere fifty meters away and he could see the light from the main room leaking out from the shuttered window in the back, but it might as well have been in the next village. They would never outrun a leopard.
He swallowed hard and tugged. The goat wouldn’t budge. He could feel the animal shaking in terror along the length of the rope. Somewhere behind and slightly upslope of them, another rock clattered in the dark.
Closer.
He wrestled with his options; if he released the animal, the leopard might go for it, and he and Jassim could make a run for the house, or he could try to get them all back down. Leopards were opportunity hunters, he knew, and if they stayed with the goat, they’d be a bigger and, hopefully, more formidable target that the predator might decide wasn’t worth the risk.
Or he could start yelling. That would alert his father at least. What happened after that was anybody’s guess.
But part of him feared his father’s wrath even over the leopard. He pulled harder and the goat took a trembling step. Hope sprang into his chest. He tugged again and the animal took another step.
“It’s moving,” Jassim whispered hoarsely. He pushed the goat as hard as he dared without scaring it any further.
“Yes,” BahrAm answered. He ducked down and felt around the ground at the side of the path. His fingers found a fist-sized rock with sharp edges and he picked it up, “Stay close. We’ll keep together. Maybe it will-”
That was as far as he got. A sudden thumping sound came out of the darkness and the goat jerked backward with a high-pitched bleat that almost sounded like a human scream, pulling the rope from BahrAm’s hand. Jassim lost his balance and fell forward onto the path. The goat stepped on him trying to maintain its footing.
The leopard attacked from the side. It was focused on the goat and, though it was wary of humans, it knew that the small ones were no threat. It took a swipe at the one on the ground as it went by, but threw its body onto that of the goat, fangs and claws extended for a quick kill.
BahrAm could see very little. He heard Jassim cry out as he fell, at the same moment as he sensed and heard the leopard collide with the goat not a meter from him. The goat shrieked and thrashed as the leopard growled and dug its claws in. That gave BahrAm a target to aim at.
He never thought; his body simply reacted. He knew he had the heavy stone and brought it back and up, then forward and down with all his might. He couldn’t even have said that he knew where he was aiming. Panic, fear and instinct took over.
The sharp rock struck the leopard on the side of the neck, hard enough to break through the hide and chip bone. The animal was more startled than hurt, though, but released its hold on the goat and fell to the side.
BahrAm raised his arm and struck again blindly, some part of him knowing he might only have this one more shot before the cat turned on him. He leapt forward and put every ounce of his body into it, praying.
At that moment, the leopard had raised its head and was pushing itself up off the path to attack this new, unexpected threat. BahrAm’s rock struck it squarely on the snout, shattering one of its fangs and breaking bone.
The cat was stunned for a second and confused by the sudden pain. BahrAm’s body followed through and he landed on the cat, forcing it back to the ground. It took a swipe up at its attacker, but was now suddenly more concerned with getting away. It scrabbled madly and clawed the ground, yowling.
Not even knowing what he was doing, his body running on automatic in blind panic, BahrAm brought the rock up and down again and again, hearing the stone hit the hot body and feeling the blows traveling up his arm.
Dimly, he heard someone shouting his name, but kept hitting and hitting, sobbing and shouting in terror until he was suddenly wrenched off his feet and enveloped in warmth. He heard his father’s voice close in his ear, the words unintelligible, and felt his father’s heartbeat thumping madly against his own chest as he was held close.
His breathing finally slowed and the roaring in his ears subsided. He opened his eyes and looked up, seeing the stars beyond the black shape of his father’s head bent over him. They appeared to be moving through the blur of his tears.
Jassim’s muffled voice came from below him somewhere in the dark, “Are we dead yet? Heaven is stonier than I imagined.”
BahrAm’s nerveless fingers finally dropped the blood-soaked rock and he passed out.
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt. Bokran occasionally whispers another tale from his life into my ear and I add to the story. Maybe 2023 will see us finish it.
In the meantime, you can find the Silk Road Series books on Amazon by entering their names, or by visiting my site at:
amazon.com/author/jaygould
Author Jay Gould 