Dennis was getting dizzy with all the references to things he didn’t understand. Who were the L’Toff? And what in the world was a practicer?
As for the story of the boy’s father being arrested, Dennis could see how a farmer’s pride might get him in trouble with the local strongman, but why would Stivyung Sigel be seized for being “built just like” his overlord? Was that a crime here?
“Is Tomosh all right?”
“Yah. He wants to tell you good-bye before you go.”
“Go,” Dennis repeated. He had sort of been hoping for some down-home hospitality, including a real bed and some trial conversation, before he tackled a larger settlement. Things didn’t sound too peaceful hereabouts. He wanted to find out who made the marvelous hi-tech items and head straight for that element in society, avoiding the Baron Kremers of this world.
Aunt Biss nodded firmly. “We got no room at my place. An’ my husban’ Bim is locking up this stockade tomorrow. If you want work, you’ll find it in Zuslik.”
Dennis stared down at the bowl. Suddenly he did not want to face another night in the wilderness. Even the clucking chickens made him feel homesick.
Aunt Biss was silent for a moment, then she sighed. “Oh, wha’ the hey. Tomosh thinks you’re a genuine pilgrim an’ not one of those layabouts we sometimes get in from th’ east. I don’t suppose it’ll do any harm to let you sleep th’ night in th’ barn. So long as you behave an’ promise to go peaceful in th’ morn in’.”
Dennis nodded quickly. “Perhaps there are some chores I can help with…?”
Biss thought about it. She turned and picked up the flint-headed ax from the porch rack. “I don expect it’ll do any good, but you might as well chop some firewood.”
Dennis took the crude ax dubiously.
“Well... I guess I could try…” He glanced over at the beautiful gemstone ax by the door.
“Use this one,” Biss emphasized. “We’ll want to sell it off quick, now that Stivyung’s gone. There’s a pile o’ logs aroun’ back.
“Good practice to you.” She nodded and turned to go inside.
There was that word again. Dennis felt sure he was missing something important. But he judged it would be best not to ask Aunt Biss any more questions.
First things first, then. He finished the stew and licked the bowl clean. It felt like the kind of unbreakable dinnerware found in homes all over Earth. But on closer examination he realized that the bowl was made of wood, fashioned wafer thin and varnished to perfection.
If I ever get the zievatron fixed, and if we ever start trading with this culture, they’ll be able to sell us millions of these! Their factories will be working overtime!
Then he remembered draft animals pulling sledges that slid noiselessly through the night.
What’s going on here?
Casting a wistful glance at the beautiful gemstone ax near the door, he resignedly picked up the caveman special and walked around to the woodpile in back of the house.
4. The Best Way to Carnegie Hall
1
The town of Zuslik lay at the bottom of a wide valley, where low hills on both sides crowded close to a broad, sluggish river. The land was heavily wooded, with cultivated fields evenly scattered among thick patches of forest. The riverside town sat at the junction of several roads.
From a slope west of Zuslik, Dennis could see that the walled settlement was built around a hill overlooking a bend in the river. Atop this eminence, towering above the town, stood a dark, squat tower, built in a series of flat layers like a dark, brooding wedding cake.
Through his Sahara Tech monocular, Dennis could make out antlike columns of men marching in the yards surrounding the fortress. Sunlight occasionally flashed from ranks of upheld weapons. Pennants riffled from the high tower, blown by the breeze that swept up the valley.
There was no mistaking the home of the chief honcho. Dennis hoped his search wouldn’t require that he go there. Not after what he had heard about the man.
The evening before last, while Dennis settled into the hayloft of the Sigels’ farm, the little boy Tomosh had come out to the barn. Ostensibly it was to wish the visitor good night, but Dennis realized that the young fellow actually had come for sympathy and comfort. He didn’t imagine Tomosh got much of it from his cool aunt.
Tomosh had wound up staying for a couple of hours, exchanging stories with Dennis. It had been a fair trade.
Dennis had a chance to practice his accent—familiarizing himself with the muddy, strange Coylian version of English— and Tomosh, much to his delight, learned a great deal about the ways of Brer Rabbit and of flying elephants.
Dennis didn’t find out much about Coylian technology—he hadn’t expected to, talking with a small boy. But he listened attentively as Tomosh told “scary” stories about “Bleckers” and other fabled bogeymen, and about ancient, kindly dragons that let people ride them through the sky. Dennis filed away the tales in his memory, for one never knew what would turn out to be useful information.
More relevant, he imagined, were the tidbits Tomosh told about Baron Kremer, whose grandfather had led a tribe of hillmen out of the north to take Zuslik from the old Duke a generation ago. Kremer sounded like a good man to stay away from, according to Tomosh, especially after what the fellow had done to the boy’s family.
Much as he wanted to learn more, Dennis knew Baron Kremer wasn’t the best topic to dwell on. He distracted the boy from his troubles with an old camp song that soon had him laughing and clapping. By the time Tomosh fell asleep on the hay nearby, the boy had forgotten about the day’s traumas.
It left Dennis feeling as if he had done a good deed. He only wished he could have done more for the little tyke.
Aunt Biss, taciturn to the end, gave Dennis a cloth-wrapped lunch of cheese and bread for his departure early the next morning. Tomosh manfully rubbed back tears when he said farewell. It had taken only a day and another morning to hike here from the farmhouse.
On the trek to town Dennis had kept a lookout for a small pinkish creature with bright green eyes. But the pixolet never showed up. It looked like the little creature really had abandoned him this time.
Dennis examined Zuslik from the bluff outside of town. Somewhere in that citadel, the boy’s father was being held for mysterious crimes Dennis still didn’t understand… because he was “built just like” his overlord and was good with tools… Dennis was relieved to find out that he, at least, didn’t resemble the warlord at all.
He decided he wouldn’t learn any more about Zuslik by studying it from a distance. He got up and started putting on his pack.
Just then he caught a flicker of motion in his peripheral vision. He turned to look… and saw something huge, black, and fast come swooping straight down on him over the treetops!
Dennis flung himself to the grassy slope as the giant flying thing shot by just overhead. Its shadow was huge, and a flapping, whistling sound sent chills of expectant disaster up his back as he burrowed into the turf.
The moment of terror passed. When nothing disastrous appeared to happen, he finally raised his head, looking around frantically for the monster. But the thing was gone!
Last night Tomosh had spoken of dragons—great ferocious creatures that had once supposedly defended mankind on Tatir against deadly enemies. But Dennis had been under the impression they were of the distant past, where the fanciful creatures of children’s fairy tales belonged!