"I'm ready," she said.
"Good. Here is some money. Count it and tell me if there is enough. I'll wait here for the messenger while you get us mounts and equipment."
"There is more than enough," she said. "Malacar ..."
"Yes?"
"When should I tell them that I am quitting?"
"Right now, if you want. Or write them a note if you don't want to talk with them."
She brightened.
"I'll write them a note."
That afternoon, they moved into the hills, pack animal trailing behind, tethered to Jackara's saddle. She drew rein and turned to regard the city below them. Malacar halted his mount also, but he watched her rather than Capeville. She said nothing. It was as if he were not present.
Her eyes were narrow and her lips pressed so tightly together as to be all but invisible. Her hair was bound with a ribbon and he watched the wind play with its ends. She sat so for perhaps half a minute. He felt as if a wave of pure hate were passing, flowing down the slopes, breaking upon the city. Then it was gone, and she turned and her mount moved forward once again.
I see the dream, Jackara, he said to himself. The one that Morwin would do you ...
All that afternoon they rode, and he saw the opposite shore of the peninsula where the waters were lighter in color and there was no city. He made out a few shacks on the distant shore, but between their beach and the hills rose a tangle of green, where runners like grapevines crossed from tree to tree and dark birds fluttered and lit, fluttered and lit, among the leaves. The sky was half overcast, but the sun occupied the other half and the day was still bright. The trail remained damp, tacky from the previous night's rain, and they muddied clear puddles as they passed. He noted that his mount's hoofprints were triangular in shape, and it occurred to him that the beast he rode could be a vicious fighter. Far below, there were some whitecaps on the water, and he saw that the trees were moving.
The wind has not hit this high yet, he thought. But it will probably rain again tonight, judging from those clouds. Tarps might have been better than those flimsies she bought if the winds get bad up here ...
They halted before dusk and took a meal. By then, Capeyule was out of sight. Shind sprang down from the pack mount he had been riding and sat with them. Jackara smiled. She seemed to have taken a liking to the Darvenian. This pleased Malacar, who decided, She hates all the people she has known so much that it is probably easier for her to be friends with an alien.
He ate his food while the sky darkened. It was now completely overcast, and the night was near. Occasional gusts of wind struck them.
"Where should we camp, Jackara? And how soon?"
She raised a finger, swallowed, then said, "About six more miles and we will come to a place sheltered on two sides. We can pitch our flimsy there."
By the time they reached the site it was already raining.
Lying there, still wet, listening to the movements of the _kooryabs_, feeling the wind and sometimes the rain, hearing both, holding her, looking up the walls of gray stone at their bridge, night, he planned ahead, selecting worlds for death. He conceived a master plan then, turned it over in his mind, decided it would work, filed it for future implementation. He was ready. Two more days and they would reach the Mound. Beside him, Jackara made small noises in her chest.
_Good night, Shind_.
_Good night, Commander_.
_Is she having a nightmare?_
_No. Her dream is pleasant_.
_Then I shan't awaken her. Sleep well_.
_And yourself_.
He lay there for a long while listening to the night, and then he joined it.
They departed the peninsula late the following morning, turned to the northwest, headed inland. Their way continued as a gradual ascent until they reached a tableland which they crossed that afternoon. This brought them to the foot of another line of hills. Within these lay the Mound, Jackara told him. They would sight it before nightfall.
Nor was she incorrect. They topped a rise, she gestured, he nodded. A gigantic, flat-topped mass of rock lay a few miles away. Between themselves and the mesa was a wide canyon through which they must pass to achieve it. The kooryabs picked their way almost casually among the boulders.
By nightfall, they had crossed and were ascending an easy trail that began at the southern foot of the Mound and worked its way westward and up. By then, Malacar had grown at ease with his mount, and trusting its hoofs beneath stars was not difficult.
It was not until morning, when he could properly survey the ruin, that he began to realize the scope of the task which lay before him. True to Pei'an architectural precedent, none of the buildings had been especially close together. They were spread over an area approximately two miles in length and a quarter mile across. The remains were mainly foundations. Here and there, a wall still stood. There was much debris on the ground and grasses and vines grew among it, covering or partly covering some of the rubble. The place was virtually devoid of trees. Outside the general lines of what had once been the town stood a small, square structure, sunbleached, and weather-worn.
"Is that the war installation?" he asked, gesturing.
"Yes. I've been inside it. The roof is partly fallen in and it is full of insects and smells had. They took everything with them when they abandoned it."
He nodded.
"Then to start, let's just walk a bit and you can give me a rough idea of what's what."
Shind accompanied them, a small shadow passing among stones.
For several hours they walked, and she told him what she knew of the place. After this, he selected the most prominent of the ruins for close scrutiny, hoping it would be one of these which would have attracted H. But when lunchtime arrived, he was no nearer satisfaction than he had been at sunrise.
After lunch, he climbed the highest accessible point (a wall) and from there sketched the best map he could of the entire area. Then, point by point, he marked it off in his mind and gridded the map to follow. That afternoon, he placed a marker at each spot where the lines crossed.
"We are going to explore it section by section?" she asked.
"That's right."
"Where will we begin?"
"Choose one," he said, proffering the map.
She gave him a quick glance, saw that he meant it.
"All right. Here--in the middle."
That day they searched two of the squares he had drawn, going through them foot by paced foot, crawling through cellars and subcellars, turning blocks, tramping down or separating long weeds or grasses. They worked until they could see no longer, then returned to the camp they had made and kindled a fire.
Later that night as they stared at stars, she broke a long silence by saying, "We're off to a good start."
He did not reply, but lay there smoking. After a while, she found his hand with both of hers and squeezed it so tightly that it almost hurt.
_What's wrong with her now, Shind?_
_She is trying to comfort you. She feels that you are unhappy that you did not locate what you sought today_.
_Well, she is correct, of course. But then, I did not really expect to come across anything the first day_.
_Perhaps you ought to tell her that. Her mind is a strange place. She is unhappy because she thinks that you are_.
_Oh, hell!_
_Commander_ ...
_Yes?_
_I wish I had never told you about that dream_.
_I already know that_.
_It is still not too late_.
_Go to sleep, Shind_.
_Yes, sir_.
"Hey, Jack?"
"Yes?"
He reached over with his free hand, placed it on the back of her head and turned her toward him. He leaned and kissed her forehead, then released her.
"You're a good guide and today was a good start," he said.
Then he turned away and went to sleep.