“Hope so. We’ll know in a minute. Starting to rain again.” Xe shivered, dropped to xe’s knees beside the tiny fire. “If I get much wetter, I’m coming down with root, rot.” Xe glanced at the fish. “Any news from
“Nothing yet. I saw Ceam. He’s just back from a run to outside, gone silent. Won’t answer the harp calls. Ceam says he thinks it was putting too much on him. He reminded us that Danor said Ilaцrn had gone soft in the middle. He said we shouldn’t rely on him, that he’d go squish on us.”
“Cha oy, Danor wasn’t all that sane himself. Think he got all the way to the Meruu? The Eolt don’t say anything about seeing him.”
“Who knows.” Leoca reached behind her for the pot they’d got from the mesuch traders, lifted her head. “Listen to it come down. This is going to be a drencher.” She stretched out her arm, held her hand under the spot where the leak had been. “Looks like you fixed it.”
Banikoлh, Guest House
Shadith set her cha mug down when a Denchok came into the room where the University group members were breaking their fast, a short wiry Keteng with a lichen web so thick that his eyes looked like beetles burrowed into bark. She suppressed a weary sigh, expecting to be summoned to another day of questions and endless arguments.
“I greet you, Scholar, Singer, Aide. I am called Daizil. I am Metau of the House of Knowledge and Speaker for the Meruu of the Earth.”
Aslan stood, Marrin left his chair to stand behind her. Shadith brushed toast crumbs from her mouth and joined them.
Aslan dipped her head in a sketch of a bow. “We greet you, Metau Daizil. May we ask why the honor of this visit?”
He inclined his upper body in answer, a stiffer move, his neck too thickly imprisoned in lichen to make a nod feasible. “The Meruus have conferred throughout the night and have reached a decision, Scholar. You yourself will remain as advisor, explaining to us the soul of the Chandavasi and giving us what knowledge you have of means of defense. We accept your characterization of Shadowsong and Marrin Ola and honor their gift of their skills to the preservation of our people… Whatever they will need in the way of supplies, they have but to ask and we lay Chel Dй’s blessing on their search. We are winnowing our own for those with landskills that we may send forth two or three small bands of searchers. If nothing else, these might serve to drive the spy into the arms of your people. The Scholars of the Meruu will welcome you, Aslan aici Adlaar. A student will wait in the hall outside to guide you when you’re ready.” He inclined his torso again, marched out.
Aslan stood watching, silent, frowning.
Shadith stretched, rubbed the back of her neck. “So it begins,” she said.
Melitoлh, the Kushayt, after moonrise
Ilaцrn dug the packet from under the delseh mint, closed his hand on it, closed his eyes. After a minute, he thrust it into his sleeve and moved on to the next cache. He hadn’t resolved anything. He didn’t know what he was going to do. But he wanted to be ready if the resolve ever came. He knew it would be a matter of seconds. The indrawing of a breath. If he couldn’t act before that breath was gone, he never would.
When he had them all, he stood a moment looking speculatively at the wall, wondering about the hidden door. He shook his head. It was bound to have some kind of mesuch latch that only Hunnar could open. He moved his eyes along to the kerre tree where Eolt Kitsek had dropped the packet. There was cord in the garden shed… if he could get up that tree onto the top of the wall… the cord would be strong enough to get him down without breaking his legs… if he chose the right time… when the wall watch was past…
17. Killing Games
1
Shadith settled in the flikit’s co-chair, closed her eyes and let her mindtouch sweep over the forest unreeling below them. The mountains were spiky with a few peaks high enough to have small glaciers in their cracks and crannies. The clouds were thick, the winds erratic with treacherous sheers that shook the flikit and sent it slipping and sliding until Marrin got control back. Shadith and the telltales both had limited ranges so he couldn’t take the flier above the clouds and out of the rough air.
Medon Vale was surrounded by tall cliffs and steeply tilted hill waves humping up toward the stony peaks. The trees on the slopes were thick as fur with scattered open spots like a touch of the mange. Room to hide an army or two if they could get over the peaks without being seen.
Marrin started the round at the end of the Vale opposite the tower, where the cliffs were high with thin streams of water falling over them in several places while the highest peak of the local section of the mountain range was here, Rois Orus, looming above the Vale. He took the flikit slowly along, eyes on the instruments.
Now and then the telltale bonged softly. When Shadith probed the slopes to locate the lifeform, she usually found only a large predator or a herd of ruminants-the difference in feel was unmistakable when she touched a beast, not a man.
As Marrin eased the flikit around the end of the Vale, the telltale bong started chattering like a gossip who hadn’t talked all week. Shadith concentrated. A band of men was moving through the trees-single file, so they were easy to count. Fifteen. “That’s them,” she said, “take them out, then let’s find us a talker.”
Kurz hitched himself higher in the tree, settled in a crotch that would hold his weight, then used the cutter to remove foliage so he could see the Vale. He estimated the distance to the main cluster of buildings, slipped the binocs over his head and dialed in the magnification that would give him a fair view of what was happening down there.
As he watched the two female scholars come out with the male aide trailing behind and a small crowd of locals circling and shoving around them, he thought regretfully about the rangegun the Ykkuval wouldn’t let him bring out of the Kushayt. With a bit of luck and explosive loads he could turn that plaza into a crater and no more worry about the University group; they wouldn’t have mouths to open. Trouble was, it left detectable residues and with the Yaraka involved here, that wasn’t on.
The Harper and the Aide climbed into the flier, but the Scholar stayed on the ground; she and the Aide talked a while, then she stepped back and watched while the flier lifted and circled to gain altitude. Kurz took a moment to watch her as she turned her head, said something to one of the locals, then started striding back toward the buildings, the locals scurrying to keep up with her. Then he shifted the viewfield, located the flier just before it vanished into the clouds.
He switched to infra and followed the pulsing blur north toward the end of the Vale. What are they up to? North?
He followed the blur as it curved round the end of the Vale and started south along the eastern line of peaks, winced as the binocs picked up a sudden flare of energy. He switched back to visual and swore again as he saw the flier slant steeply downward and vanish into the trees. He pulled the viewer off, rubbed at his eyes. “Hunting,” he said aloud. And was grimly sure he knew what game they hunted.
It was over an hour before the flier rose again. It hesitated a moment then darted into the clouds. He followed the blur south until there was another energy flare. He took off the binocs, slid the instrument into its padded case, checked to be sure the cutter was clamped solidly to his belt, then he swung down the tree, dropped to the ground and trotted to the mini-skip. Speculation was all very well, but seeing with his own eyes would give him a better measure of what was happening.