"merely by observation. You hunt in a pack of twenty for the small, helpless animals of the forests. You take life, and get in return only enough food to keep you weak, and thin, when you could be swollen with the goodness of the earth, of which you are, for which you are."
"Would you have us eat the green poisons?" Tambol asked.
"Only in your own minds are the good things of the earth poison," Duwan said. "For you have been told this by the enemy, with one intent, to keep you ignorant of the fact that you, Drinkers all, could live on the bounty of the land without depending upon the Devourer's seeds, and his cultivated fields, and his animal flesh."
A low moaning began and spread through the group. "Master," a quavering voice moaned, "if you mean death for us, make it swift, as you made it swift for the masters, not slow and painful from the poison."
"He has magic," Jai said. Duwan motioned for her to be still.
"Who will trust me?" Duwan asked. When there was no volunteer, he turned to Tambol. Tambol lowered his head and was silent. Duwan, frustrated, glared out at them. Jai whispered at his side. "Show them a magic, Lord, and they will believe."
"I have no magic," Duwan spat. He turned to Tambol. "Do you know nothing of your origin?"
"Yes Master," Tambol said. "We are children of an unholy union between Aang the Devourer and the animals of the fields, and we are called unclean, although we had no choice, for it was Aang, father of the devourers, who sinned and soiled the earth with his lust. It is the punishment of the dus that Aang lives atop the high mountains and looks down each day to see his unholy children working to atone for his original sin of lust."
"So you were told by the Enemy?" Duwan asked.
"So it is written," Tambol said.
It was evident that the free runners were as ignorant of the true nature of things as Jai. The Enemy had, indeed, done a skillful job of indoctrination. Further questioning revealed to Duwan that, as in Jai's case, all had been taught from childhood—in the case of the free runners not even by the Devourers but by their own parents, for so strong was the indoctrination that generations of free runners had perpetuated the myths—that to share the sweet food of the green brothers brought sure, painful death, that the rays of Du were harmful, and that the body was to be protected from the rays at all times.
Tambol and his fellows wore ragged, dirty garments that covered all portions of their bodies save hands and feet. A loose hood half-hid the face.
It was also evident to Duwan that he was not trusted. He saw fear and something else in the faces and eyes of those who stood before him.
"I will speak with your wise men," Duwan said, "your elders, your Predictor."
"So be it," Tambol said.
The free runners lived within the earth. In a narrow, hidden valley, accessible without great effort only through a narrow, steep-walled canyon from which flowed a small stream, they had burrowed into the hillsides like animals, concealing the openings to their caves with brush and stones. Males with bows that would have been almost useless against anything larger than a tree animal guarded the canyon. As the hunting party marched up the valley, heads appeared from the caves in the hillsides, and soon a crowd followed. The hunters carried only a few small, furry carcasses, and some females, seeing the scarcity of food, began to wail. A scuffle broke out as one hunter left the party to join his female and his young and others tried to take his prize, one small, pathetic tree animal.
"We have done wrong in coming here, master," Jai whispered. "These live like animals."
Duwan kept his right hand on the hilt of his longsword. The runners were thin and weak, but they were many, and the presence of Duwan and Jai among the hunters left in their wake a buzz of talk.
Tambol, in silence, led them onward, as the other hunters dropped off one by one to be met with rejoicing or weeping depending on whether they carried flesh.
The way led to the head of the valley, where the stream dropped from high rocks to fall with a roar into a broad, clear pool. There, facing a sheer rock wall, Tambol halted. "I will inform the elders of your presence," he said, and then disappeared into a natural stone cave. Jai clung to Duwan's arm and looked around fearfully.
"Master," she whispered, as males began to drift up the valley toward them, bows in hand, "we can run. You are mighty, and you will have to kill only a few of them and then they will not try to stop us. We can go far away and live fatly upon the good green that you bless of its poison." Duwan did not answer. He, too, had noted the approaching males, and he feared their puny bows less than their numbers. If they were determined enough, if enough of them would die, they could overcome him by their sheer mass.
He heard a tapping sound from within the cave and tensed, thinking that perhaps attack would come from two sides, but an ancient one appeared, his eyelids massed into wrinkles, squinting at the sun, his hair long, sere, and his body stiffened with the hardening disease. The tapping had come from the walking stick he used. He seemed disoriented at first, his watery eyes looking everywhere but at Duwan. Behind him there appeared other oldsters and behind them Tambol.
"I am Farnee, Eldest of the free runners," the old one said. "Come closer, warrior, for I see you but dimly."
Jai held tight to Duwan's arm as he stepped closer. "I bring you greetings of the blood of the Drinkers from the far north," Duwan said.
"How?" Farnee asked, cupping a hand to his ear.
"He says he is from the far north," another of the old ones shouted into Farnee's ear.
Farnee nodded ponderously. "And yet we are told by Tambol that is it said you come from the earth."
"We are all of the earth and for the earth," Duwan said. "Perhaps, honored one, we could be seated, where you will be more comfortable." After that suggestion was imparted, in a shout, to Farnee, he nodded and, without speaking, turned and hobbled back into the cave. Duwan followed, and the others fell in behind him and Jai. Farnee seated himself on a stone covered with patched, stitched furs, leaned on his stick, and blinked in the dimness, lit by an open fire. The others ranged around the stone in a circle, surrounding Duwan and Jai.
"Now," Farnee said, "who has seen this one come from the earth?"
"I," Jai said defiantly.
"And you are?" Farnee asked, at last finding her with his eyes.
"I am Jai."
"You are not a free runner, by your dress, female," an elder said. "You expose your hide to the sun as the Devourers do."
"I escaped from the pongpens of the city of Arutan," Jai said, "many months past. I saw this lord, growing from the rich earth, a divine flower. I saw this with my eyes, and I have seen, since, his magic, for he eats, and makes it possible for me to eat, the green poisons and grow fat."
"Ha," someone grunted.
"Enough," Duwan said. "I am Duwan the Drinker and I have come from the far north, past the land of fires, through the lands of the iron cold and the snows. That is all you need know of me, except that I come in friendship to all who oppose our Enemy, who wrested this land of Many Brothers from us in the time of the Great Alon."
"Alon," someone whispered. "He speaks of the du."
"I speak of Alon, the Great Leader, who took our people to the north to escape the all-devouring enemy. I come to determine the strength of this enemy, to find those who would stand by our side as we reclaim our land." There was a buzz of talk among the seated elders. Farnee raised one hardened hand and made a sound in his throat and the elders fell silent.
"What do you know of our ancient legends, strange one?" Farnee asked.
"Enough to call ignorance and enemy lies by name when I am told that Drinkers are unholy offspring of a Devourer and animals of the field," Duwan said.
Farnee nodded gravely. "That is the teaching we allow our young to hear until they have reached an age of wisdom," he said. Behind the elders, Tambol stirred uneasily.