"I had things to attend to-and a friend had died."
"That poor woman! Earl, I'm sorry, but did she mean that much?" She added, "You'd only traveled together and she had other friends. Why should you feel responsible for them?"
Because of him they had been dumped. Would Marta have died if they had not? He said, "On a world like this it helps to have those you can trust. Santis saved my life, remember."
"In the arena, of course."
"It also helps to have friends."
"Alejandro? You've seen him? Earl, you didn't say! Will he help?" Her eyes shadowed as he told her the situation. "To collect trannaks? No, Earl! You can't!" Her protest was not enough and she knew it. More quietly she added, "Did he tell you the death-rate among the hunters? The risks they are forced to take? Would you have listened if he had?"
"Tell me."
"Why do you think men ever settled on this world? Why the city is as it is? The trannaks are found close to and in the Goulten Hills. Had the city been set closer the sannaks would have destroyed it in their search for moisture. They eat the mountains. They eat men for the flesh and blood their bodies contain. They-Earl, you can't! You mustn't!"
He held her close as she came into his arms, feeling the soft warmth of her body, the mounds of her breasts as they pressed against his chest. Beneath his hands he felt her tremble quiet, turn into a warmth, a heat which rose with demanding urgency.
"Earl!" Her fingers became claws as they dug against him. "Earl, my darling! Don't make me wait!"
Later, lying on the wide expanse of the bed, her soft nakedness lying beside him in satiated abandon, he said into the mane of her hair, "I hate to ask this, Ellain, but I need money."
"In order to kill yourself?" She guessed the reason. "No."
"A loan." He lifted his head a little. "To be repaid with profit when I return."
"If you return." The bed made small noises as she rose to sit upright on the edge. "Earl, I love you. Don't ask me to help kill you."
"I'm asking you to save my life!" He joined her, sitting close, thighs resting warmly one against the other. "You asked me to help you escape," he reminded. "You introduced me to Alejandro Jwani. Surely you knew what the outcome would be?" Lifting a hand he gently turned her face toward him. The lights were dim, colored glows held in tinted glass, but bright enough for him to see the tears brimming in her eyes. "A chance, Ellain. For you to clear your debt and for me to remain free and buy passage. For us both to escape."
"Together?"
"Together." He held her eyes, meaning what he said. "But first we must get free. For that I need money for equipment and transportation. A stake. Supply it and you'll be a partner with a share in what we find." He gave her time to think, rising to pour them both wine, returning to sit again beside her. "A chance, Ellain-one we have to take."
"Earl, it's too risky."
"Life is full of risk." Smiling, he added, "Don't you want to protect your investment?"
"Earl?"
He saw her frown, the genuine puzzlement as to his meaning written plain on her face and explained, "My treatment. Didn't you pay the hospital?"
"No, darling. How could I? Yunus was with me and, in any case, I couldn't afford the expense." She added, as if in justification, "I'd only just seen you. You meant nothing to me then. Not as you do now." Her hand rose to caress his torso. "You must have an unknown benefactor."
Chapter Eight
The raft was twenty feet long, seven wide, four deep, the body covered with a transparent canopy which swept up and over the occupants and driver. An unnecessary protection; the air was still, no trace of a breeze stirring the sand below, but Dumarest said nothing. The driver, an old man, must know what he was doing.
He leaned back in the long seat. Facing him Kemmer sat, shoulders rounded, face brooding. Santis was at his side. Accustomed to uniform and the weight of accountrements the mercenary was at home in the thick coverall, the helmet and gear which was standard equipment for any venturing far from the city. Through the open face of the helmet he looked ageless, like a bird of prey patiently waiting to sight its quarry before making the strike.
"Calm," said a man lower down the raft. He was one of another party. "Too damned calm for my liking. It was like this last year the time Loffrey got himself flayed. So calm he was fool enough to leave off his suit and climb a crag. Then the wind and-" His hand made an expressive gesture.
"I remember." Another hawked and spat, not looking at the rear of the raft where Dumarest sat. "And Chine? Remember him? We found his helmet after the winds died. His head was still in it. Odd that, when you think about it No body but his head locked in the helmet like a fruit in a can."
Dumarest had saved money by agreeing to share the raft with others setting out to hunt. Spent it by hiring a guide. Zarl Hine was worn, tough, seamed like dried and ancient leather. One who had spent most of his life in the Goulten Hills. His luck had turned bad and Dumarest had found him hanging around the equipment rooms. He had come cheap because none were willing to take him on.
Sitting next to Dumarest he said, "Take no notice. They're trying to scare you. It's always calm before a storm but a storm doesn't always come because it's calm, if you get my meaning. You've got to do more than watch the sand. You need to look at the sky, check the clouds, watch for color. The winds can start high and pick up dust from the Allepcian Mountains. They lie far to the north and grow a mauve lichen on the peaks. If the sky turns mauve start heading for shelter."
The same if it showed green from the level plateau to the south on which crystals of emerald budded to break and turn into dust. Or red from the iron-deposits to the east. Things Dumarest had learned with others but nothing could really take the place of an experienced guide.
Hine said, "You won't regret taking me on, Earl, that I promise. But I can't guarantee a find. If I could I wouldn't have been waiting for a chance. My luck-" He spread his hands. "I guess you know about that."
"I was warned."
"That on each of the last three times I went out I lost companions? That I'm in debt? That where I go storms follow?"
"Is there more?"
"Luck," said Hine. "You have it or you don't. Once I had it and made the mistake of thinking it would last. I knew how to find trannaks and would always be able to find them. Then things started to go wrong. My wife left me. My son fell ill. My daughter wanted to live high. My brother-hell, Earl, you know the story."
"Yes," said Dumarest. "I know it."
"I can't blame Myrna, not really. A wife needs a man at her side and I was always in the hills. And Frank couldn't help falling sick and needing expensive treatment. Lorna wasn't really bad, just young and impatient, and Sakam, my brother-well, you can't let your own go down, can you?" He made an impatient sound. "Why am I telling you all this?"
Dumarest said, "Talking can help and I like to know the kind of man I'm relying on. But why blame your luck for what happened? You were worried, maybe a little careless because of that, taking chances you shouldn't and not spotting what was there to be seen. You made mistakes and blamed yourself and, once your confidence goes, what's left?"
"You think it was that?" Hine sounded relieved. "Just worry working at me all the time? You know, no one ever suggested that. They all put it down to bad luck and said I had a jinx and turned me into an outcast. I've had to sweat just to keep level and it's getting harder every month." Pausing he said, "Mister, one thing I promise-if there are trannaks to be found then, by God, I'll find them!"