Arnanak’s hearts clenched. Was this a fate—whether of Sun or Ember Star—or a whim of the Rover which might breed a fate—or might mean nothing?
Because Larreka stood unshaken, he rallied to his purpose. “Then well are we met anew, maybe. Let us swear a day’s peace, and your folk can take ease with mine.” He waved at the awnings they had raised. “We brought beer for hospitality.”
“You and I and this human have work to do.”
“Aye.”
The fighters gave oath in their separate ways, broke formation, disarmed, and mingled, southerners more warily than northerners. In Sehalan, Arnanak acknowledged Larreka’s introduction of Ian Sparling, and led them to his shelter. A regular tent, though two sides were furled for the sake of breath, it stood in a patch of wan blue blades. Already Starkland seeds, blown in on storm winds, were surviving Fire Time better than most of the plants which fed mortals.
Beneath the tent were shade, rugs to rest on, ale, waterskins, and goblets. The Ishtarians folded their legs. The human sat down jerkily, arms clasping knees, face haggard, insofar as that visage was readable. Arnanak told him: “She of your kind who names herself Jill Conway is well. She has suffered no harm, nor do I mean for her to.”
“That… is good to hear,” Ian Sparling grated.
“I seized her, when the chance came, as much to bring about a meeting like this as for any other reason. On my side we have ever stood ready to make peace. We got no word—”
“You sent us none,” Larreka interrupted in a tone as dry as the land, “save that the legions must get out and stay out.”
“This is our country,” Arnanak said for the human to hear.
“Not every bit of it,” Larreka retorted. “Our sites we have held for octads, bought from owners willing to welcome civilized traders. Since, we’ve often had to punish banditry. But who in your ruck of barbarians has any claim to our towns?”
Arnanak addressed Ian Sparling: “Gladly would we Tassui have met your kind and dealt. You never opened a door.”
“We sent occasional explorers here,” the human said. Having talked a great deal with Jill Conway, Arnanak made out the strain in his voice. “But that was before there seemed to be any single purpose or leadership among the dwellers. Lately we’ve had troubles of our own—” He leaned forward. “Well, I’ve come about her release. If you truly wish the friendship of her friends, you’ll fetch her to me at once.”
“And afterward we will talk further?”
“What do you want of us?”
“Your help. I have heard how you will help the Gathering through the next sixty-four. Are my folk less worthy of life?”
“I… am not sure… what we could best do for you.”
“Aye,” said Arnanak bleakly, “no tales have reached me of almighty works or even of promised miracles in Beronnen.”
Ian Sparling considered, before he won quick respect from the Tassu by saying: “I could swear every kind of reward, but why? You’re too intelligent. Let’s discuss instead, today, the female’s ransom. Ask the impossible, and you will get nothing—no, worse than nothing: attack on your country, the ruin of your plans. Ask something reasonable, and I can likely arrange it for you.”
Nevertheless Arnanak must pounce. “If you are able to lay South Valennen waste, why have you not struck ere now? We’ve given the Gathering ample woe, the Gathering you are supposed to rescue. Why have you held back your military aid? Is it because you have none to bring?”
“We… we did not come here seeking quarrels—” Ian Sparling collected himself. “Now is too early for threats. Name a ransom.”
“What can you offer?”
“Our good will, first and foremost. Then tools, materials, advice, to help you outlast the bad years. For example, instead of this heavy tent cloth, stuff that’s much lighter and stronger, rotproof and flameproof. That would let you range more freely in search of wild food.”
“Ng-ng, I would rather have a supply of those weapons you’ve given the soldiery a few of.” Arnanak stared at Larreka. “Also, you must withdraw help from the Gathering.”
The commandant uttered a rough chuckle and jerked a demi-thumb at the goblet of ale before him. “This doesn’t taste very good either,” he said.
“I know you two spoke together beforehand.” Arnanak had settled into a steely calm. “I did not truly believe the humans would or could abandon their long-held purpose for the sake of one of their number. Indeed, she whom I hold warned me of that. Honored be her pride.”
“Then let’s talk of what may be done in reality,” Ian Sparling urged.
“Aye,” Arnanak agreed. “Let us do that, Larreka. Will the Zera leave Valennen freely, with our good will, or must we destroy you? Dead bones are oracles here, but of no use to Beronnen. It is not too late to bargain about what Fiery Sea Islands you may keep,” until we’re ready to cast you off them, “though best for your cause would be that you returned the whole way home.”
“Stop spilling time,” the legionary snapped. “I thought we might dicker out a few meaningful things. If you leave our hunters and fishers alone, they’ll keep their parties small and stop putting the torch to areas where they know you have homesteads. Like that.”
“We might accord so far,” Arnanak said. This was not unawaited either.
“Hold on!” exclaimed the human. “What about Jill?”
Arnanak signed. “You have offered nothing to match her hostage value in staying whatever hand your people may raise to uphold the Zera. Can you? If not, we will keep her till after our victory. Meanwhile we can talk about her price from time to time—her price and much else.
“Do you not understand, Ian Sparling? My aim is that the Tassui shall live, not as a few starvelings but in power and fortune. Have you thought that we may become those whom it can best pay you to deal with?
“If naught else, here is the first real chance for us to swap knowledge of each other, which could well be worth more than a fleetload of goods. Therefore, be not afraid for her. Think rather how we can arrange to have brought to her whatever she needs for health while she abides among my folk.”
Ian Sparling stared long at him. The sounds of soldiers and warriors moving about, talking a little, came distantly. The air beneath the tent simmered. It smelted almost charred.
Larreka broke silence: “I knew the Valennener leader must be shrewd as well as strong. I didn’t see till today that he’s also wise. Too bad we must kill you, Arnanak. You should have stayed in your legion.”
“I’m sorry that you do not surrender,” the Overling returned in like courtesy.
Ian Sparling stirred. “Very well,” he said. “I foresaw this outcome. Take me to her, then.”
“What?” asked Arnanak, surprised.
“She’s all alone among wild strangers. They may mean well, but they aren’t her kind, nor do they know how to look after her should… harm befall. Let me join her. Why not? You’ll have two of us.”
Arnanak studied not the face which was alien as a daur’s, but Larreka’s. The commandant looked stark. He and his guest had surely wrestled together with this thought.
Decision surged forward. What was life but the taking of risks? “I can make no promises,” Arnanak warned. “It is hard travel for days to reach her. Nor have they an easy time there.”
“The more reason for me to go,” Ian Sparling said.
“I will first want to see everything you bring along, garb, food, everything, handle each piece myself and make you show me what it’s for, till I am sure you plot no treachery.”
“Of course.”