He looked again at the skull. It was old, the bone yellowed, fretted, patches of lichen clinging to the underside of the jaw like scales of dried blood.
A warning. It could be nothing else. Stop! Come no farther! Go back-or else!
To Ven Taykor he said, "How much longer before we reach the settlement?"
"A few hours." The guide was uneasy. "That's if they let us get anywhere near it. If they want to stop us, it would be easy. The ground ahead is full of crevasses-a perfect spot for an ambush."
"Can we bypass it?"
"I'm not sure." Taykor scratched at his mask. "One man could do it easy, but not if he's a target. A file of men would be conspicuous every step of the way. If you want my advice, Earl, you'll call it a day. Radio up a raft and get out of here."
"I won't do that."
"No," said Taykor. "I didn't think you would. But if the Ayutha are gunning for us, you'll wish you had." He glanced up at the sky, where tiny motes drifted, almost lost in the distance. Watching rafts containing enough power to wash the area with destruction. "Maybe you should bring them in close-just in case."
"No. Is there any sign of peace the Ayutha recognize? If a stranger comes up to others, what does he do?" He said sharply, as Taykor hesitated, "What did you do when meeting them? Hold out your hands? What?"
"I didn't do anything special. Just walked in slow and quiet and normal. They didn't bother me, and I didn't bother them. They didn't used to be warlike then, remember. Things have changed." Taykor shook his head, baffled. "I just don't know, Earl. From here on, anything can happen."
A quiet, primitive people suddenly turning to violence, old customs revived, perhaps, memories of other days when life had been hard and only the strong could hope to survive. How would such a people react to the presence of armed men? He could guess, but the chance had to be taken.
"Take the lead," he said to the guide. "Walk with your hands empty and in full view. If you see anyone watching, do nothing. Captain!" Dumarest turned to Conn. "Single file, rifles slung, hands exposed. You understand?"
The captain was a tough farmer who had lost his family during the first attack. Scowling, he said, "I don't like it, marshal. You're turning us into sitting targets. If the Ayutha attack, well all be wiped out."
"You heard my orders, captain!"
For a moment the man hesitated, on the brink of disobedience; then he shrugged. "Yes, sir, but God help you if you've made a mistake."
"A threat, captain?" Dumarest didn't pursue the matter. "Never mind. Have the men maintain constant observation. One to look ahead, the two behind him to left and right alternately. Anything seen to be reported immediately. Right, Taykor? On your way!"
The gully narrowed, widened into a shallow valley, the walls lifting, to close again as they climbed upward. The vegetation grew thicker, thorns tearing at clothing, rubble underfoot making progress difficult. Aside from the rasp of boots and the sound of harsh breathing, there was no sound. The column seemed to be moving into an infinity of emptiness, nothing but the hot sun above, the encroaching scrub, the rocks beneath. An hour later they found a second skull, human this time, and the men skirted it, eyes wary, hands gripping their slung rifles. A crest rose, gave way to a narrow declivity, the ground rising beyond to a steeper gradient.
They found a hut, deserted, a small garden unkempt, plants choked with weeds. Another that had been burned, gray ash thick on the stone. Two more, roofs sagging, doors open, to reveal naked interiors. The embers of a fire over which stood a tripod of thin metal struts. Dumarest touched them, felt the dead ashes and found them warm. Word of their coming had preceded them; whoever had lived here had taken their possessions and run.
A man said sharply, "Over there! See?"
His rifle lifted, aiming. Dumarest reached him and slammed down the weapon. "No firing! You heard my order!"
"I was just-"
"You don't need a gun to point What did you see?"
"Something over on that ridge. It's watching us. There!"
Dumarest followed the pointing hand and saw nothing but a tree, stunted, branches like arms, a patch of lighter coloring that, to a nervous man, could have looked like a face.
"There's nothing there. Don't be so quick with that gun the next time. Lieutenant!"
"Sir?"
"Any further reports on movement within this area?"
There were three. Heat-radiating masses, which could have been men, moving invisibly in the vegetation, coming from the north and east.
"We could have rafts track them, sir," suggested the officer. "So that if they start anything they wouldn't have the chance to get away."
"If you were of the Ayutha and saw rafts heading in, what would you think? That we were bait to set a trap, maybe?" Dumarest shrugged. "We're here to contact them, not kill them." To the guide he said, "All right, Ven, lead on."
An hour later they were attacked.
It happened as the guide topped a rise, standing for a moment silhouetted against the sky, passing on into the valley beyond. Captain Conn followed him, his rifle, despite orders, clenched in his hands. Dumarest saw him pause, the gun lifting, aiming, firing as he shouted.
"Captain! No!"
The flat report of the shot rolled from the flanking hills, repeated as the captain fired again. Ven Taykor appeared, running back over the rise, hands lifted, face contorted behind his mask.
"Earl! We're surrounded! That crazy fool-"?
Captain Conn dissolved into a pillar of flame.
It happened almost too fast to see. One moment he was standing firing; the next, something had touched him and turned him into a living torch, Dumarest snatched at his rifle, lifted it, fired, sending a bullet into the shrieking mass. As the captain fell in merciful death, he yelled, "Scatter! Down! Stay under cover! No firing!"
He caught the guide as he passed and threw him down as something cut the air with a vicious hiss. Together they rolled to the side of the boulder, crouching as more arrows splintered against the stone. To one side a man rose, firing, turning, to fall with a shaft of wood penetrating his chest. Shots blasted, hysterical fingers jammed against triggers, firing at the air, the trees, the rocks all around. More flame burst around diem, ugly patches edged with smoke, filling the air with tiny motes of swirling soot.
"Flame bombs," gasped Taykor. "They'll burn us alive!"
Ten yards behind, broken stone formed a rough circle, slabs and fissures giving protection. Dumarest sprang to his feet and raced toward it, shouting orders over the din.
"Retreat! Form defensive positions. Stop firing. Stop firing, damn you!"
A man snarled as he tumbled over the rocks. "You killed the captain. One of your own men. Whose damn side are you on?"
"Would you have left him to roast?" Taykor tried to spit, remembered his mask, tore it free with a savage gesture. "The fool started all this. If he hadn't fired, we could have made contact. They were waiting for us."
"He still killed the captain."
There had been nothing else to do. Conn had been seared, blinded, already dying; it had been an act of mercy to save him further agony. Dumarest glanced around the crude fort. The stone gave protection only while they hugged the rocks; once they left it, they would be exposed to hidden snipers. Behind them, three men lay where they had fallen. As he watched, another gulped, threw up his hands, and fell backward, a hole between his eyes, blood gushing from the back of his shattered skull.
"They've got us," said Taykor grimly. "All they have to do is wait. Once we start to move, well be helpless." He lifted his head, squinting. "They must have been following us all along. They're out there now, hidden, waiting until we show ourselves."