The sorrel’s rider ducked his head down beneath his horse’s neck to see me. He was grinning. “Opinionated, isn’t he?”
“More than is good for him,” I grumbled. “And for me, too.” More horses began to come upon us. “All right,” I told the stud, “we’re going. Just keep your teeth and heels to yourself until we get out of this mess.”
We couldn’t turn because of crowding, so we had to back out. Del’s gelding was perfectly willing to do so. The stud was less so. Finally, I bent down and set a shoulder into his chest even as I tightened my grip on the bit shanks. “Back up, you son of a Salset goat!” And I put all of my weight to the shoulder against his chest, leaning hard. I muttered all kinds of imprecations, and at last he backed up, and we were free of the throng.
The man with the sorrel had waited to see who won the battle. He was still grinning. Now that I was done arguing with the stud, physically as well as verbally, I got a better look at the man. Shorter than I, but not by much. Brown hair, pale eyes. Younger than I. And I got a good enough look to see the sword rising from behind his shoulder. Hoolies, there were sword-dancers everywhere I went! But my harness and sword were back at the tree. I shouldn’t look like a sword-dancer to anyone.
“Aren’t you the Sandtiger?”
I could lie. Lying might be good.
“I recognize you by the scars,” he said.
I glared at him. “You will note I am not wearing harness and sword. You’re supposed to leave me alone.”
He cupped a hand lightly over his mount’s nostrils as the sorrel breathed noisily. “Ordinarily, yes. But not in your case.”
I waited. He didn’t say anything.
“And—?” I asked eventually.
He shrugged. “Just looking.”
“Not challenging?”
“No.”
“Looking to kill?”
He frowned. “No.”
“Hunting a bounty?”
“What bounty?”
Hmmm. A sword-dancer who didn’t care about elaii-ali-ma, and knew nothing of Umir’s bounty. How refreshing!
“Never mind,” I said and led away the gelding and stud.
Now that darkness had fallen, Del built up the fire for light. Scattered throughout the large oasis were twenty or more cookfires, lending a smoky glow to the area. Pockets of darkness remained, but it was easy enough to see folk as they moved around. Buckets were carried to livestock, while some mounts were led to the spring. Children refused noisily to be put to bed. The usual music and singing began. It was a comfortable evening.
Well, it was comfortable until the sword-dancer from the spring—the second sword-dancer from the spring—showed up. He was on foot, barefoot, still in harness, and I began to get a bad feeling. Though certainly nothing could be done now, in the dark.
He carried a bota. “If I’m not intruding, may I join you?”
Del sat up even as I did. She looked at the stranger, then glanced at me, asking a silent question.
“We met, sort of, at the spring,” I explained. “The stud tried to take a hunk out of his horse. Other than that—” I looked at the man, “I haven’t the faintest idea who he is or why he wishes to join us.”
“To share a bota.” He lifted it. “Mostly I want to ask questions.” He paused. “Oh, and my name is Tariq.”
Del’s hand was on her naked blade, lying close on her blanket. I was in the same posture on my blanket, with my sword.
Tariq looked from one to the other. Some of his friendly smile faded. “I don’t care,” he said. “Truly, I don’t care about elaii-ali-ma or what other sword-dancers have sworn. I go my own way. Whatever bounty exists for someone to kill you…I don’t care.”
“Easy to say,” Del observed.
I did find it interesting, though, that he apparently believed the bounty was simply for killing me, not something put up by Umir.
“Here.” He dropped the bota, stripped off the top part of his belted burnous to reach his sword, and with great care slid it out of his sheath. Slowly he set it on the ground and gathered up the bota once more. It dangled from its thong. “I have questions,” he said, “because I wish to learn. No more than that. Who wouldn’t wish to do so, given the chance?”
Who wouldn’t wish the chance to challenge me, or to actually kill me?
Tariq waited expectantly. Del left the decision to me, since I was Tariq’s goal. After a moment, I nodded.
Very carefully, Tariq sat down out of his sword’s range. He could only recover it by making a mad lunge, but it wouldn’t be quickly enough to stop me or Del. Smiling, he unstoppered the bota, took several swallows, then offered it to me. So now Del and I knew the drink was safe, not a way of drugging us into insensibility. On the side of safety, I had to assume he did intend to take me for the bounty, or to challenge me to a dance. But likely he would not.
Once, I would have been happy to share my fire with another sword-dancer. Now, I couldn’t afford it without being on my guard, or assuming the worst.
Tariq slung the bota to me on one side of the fire. In courtesy, he waited till I drank before beginning his interrogation. As was customary, Del refused; if she drank spirits, it was rarely. I tossed the bota back.
Tariq caught it, set it aside. “May I ask questions?”
Del shrugged. I nodded.
And thus began a spate of questions that threatened to go on until dawn. He wanted to know about technique. He wanted to know about maneuvers. He wanted to know what I’d done to certain sword-dancers in order to defeat them.
Finally I stopped him. “The questions you have can’t all be answered in words.”
It was full dark now. His face was illuminated by the glow of the dying fire. He was perhaps Neesha’s age. “Then can you show me?”
“Here and now?”
“No, no. In the morning. Would you have time for a lesson?”
“You said you didn’t intend to challenge me.”
He was honestly taken aback. “No! I want no such thing. Only a lesson.”
I looked at his hopeful, eager expression. “We’re going home,” I said finally. “We’d just as soon get there without delay. I thank you for your interest, but we’ll head out at first light.”
Disappointment was obvious. It appeared as though he’d try a different tack, but he gave it up. He gestured to the bota. “Please. Keep it. You would do me a courtesy. Thank you for answering what you could.” Tariq smiled faintly, got to his feet, collected his sword. With an odd little bow, he backed up, turned, and walked away.
After a moment, Del said, “That was strange.”
I grunted. “He may be exactly what he says he is, and he may truly want a lesson. But…” I took up the bota, aimed for the foot of the tree. “I’ll stick with our own water or aqivi, I think.”
Del’s eyes had followed the bota as I tossed it aside. Now she looked back at me in some consternation. “Do you think it’s drugged?”
I shook my head. “Tariq definitely drank, and I tasted nothing odd in it. I feel fine.”
“You’re sure?”
I lay back down on my blanket, crossed one ankle over the other. “You didn’t drink anything. If necessary, you can protect me.” I smiled up at the stars. “Perhaps you should stay awake all night, be a guard.”
“Perhaps I should,” she replied with some asperity.
Grinning, I interlaced hands over my chest and closed my eyes. “Then good night, bascha.”
When I woke with the dawn, Del was curled up against me, mostly hidden under a blanket. “Ah-hah!” I cried. “You slept! So much for protecting me!”