“We located their first camp. We will find their new one eventually.”
“If they don’t move again.”
Jesh shook his head. “I don’t think the Ni will go very far without the woman. In fact, she should make a good lever when we catch up with him.”
“I just hope all of this is worth the effort,” Verg complained. “I do not like getting cut up for just a few pieces of Ni artwork.”
“You were lucky she did not prick you a little deeper.” Jesh laughed. “I warned you that she might be just as dangerous as the derkat. You never know with women. They can be all sweetness one minute, and the death of you the next.” Jesh picked up the golden armband belonging to Screech. “As for what we get out of this job, a lot will depend upon whether or not her lover is the Ni who escaped the Sarissa authorities in Annaroth months ago.”
“Do you think the Sarissa are still offering a reward for him?” Verg asked.
“I am not thinking as much about a reward right now, as I am about the reason for their posting the reward, and the stipulation that he be captured alive. Why alive and why the high price? Who is he and what does he have or know that makes him so important to them? If we can learn that, I think we might have something a lot better than the money the Sarissa are offering.”
Jesh held the armband up, turning it around so he could inspect the inside. Poco cringed inwardly when she realized that it was probably Jesh who had removed her clothes.
“Jesh, has it occurred to you, that if the man is Ni, we might be borrowing more trouble than we can handle?”
“Relax, Verg. That rumor about Ni massing in the north is a pile of draak shit. They are gone for good, at least in this part of the Enzaar Sea. Those who escaped the Sarissa purge are probably hiding so far back in the northern forests that we will never hear of them again.”
“I was not thinking about them. I was referring to the Ni outside the gates. If he is the one who escaped the Sarissa, who knows what kind of powers he might have. It could be dangerous to corner him.”
“We have enough men, and remember, we also have something that belongs to him, something that should buy us his good behavior.”
Poco closed her eyes as Jesh turned from the table. A moment later she felt the toe of his sandal nudge her hip. “Pretty bitch,” he said.
Poco knew exactly what could happen to her if she failed to escape; the slave markets and brothels were always ready to buy healthy young men and women who had no friends or connections.
“Is she still out?” Verg asked.
Poco was aware of Jesh as he squatted down over her, his nearness like an enveloping fog. She forced herself to relax as she felt his fingers at her throat.
Satisfied that she was still alive, Jesh moved his hand down to gently touch Poco’s left breast. “Very nice,” he murmured.
“Enough of that!” Verg growled. “Come here and look at this. The two rings are—Damn it! Jesh, come here! There will be time for that later. If you would keep your mind on—”
Jesh pinched the tip of Poco’s breast. Her cry of pain brought a wicked grin to his face.
Pain and rage brought Poco up fighting.
Jesh ducked her first swing, then lunged for her wrists, leaving himself wide open. Poco’s knee came up with a speed Jesh could not outmaneuver. He grunted in pain and rolled away, clutching himself and swearing. She brought her legs up and rolled onto her back. Before he could get away, she kicked out and caught him in the neck and head with the heels of her feet.
Everything happened so fast that Verg was just rising as Jesh’s shoulders hit the table. Verg was thrown backward, and the lantern on top of the table fell over, sending oil and flame across the table top and onto the floor. Some of the oil splattered onto Jesh.
Poco heard Ssaal-lr’s yowl of triumph, followed by a man’s scream. She rolled over and quickly came to her feet. Through the flickering firelight, she saw Screech atop Verg’s twitching body; the derkat had his teeth fastened in the man’s throat.
Poco turned away, swallowing quickly to quell the sudden queasiness in her stomach. No man should die like that, she thought.
All thoughts of Verg were driven from her mind as Jesh let loose with a roar of pain. He was rolling over and over on the floor, batting at the flames which licked at his shoulders, chest, and head.
Poco looked around for something with which to beat at the flames, but before she could move, Jesh was up and running for the door.
She ran around the burning table as Jesh disappeared up the cellar steps. She and Screech had to get out of there before Jesh sent someone to stop them. She crouched beside Screech. The derkat had given up his hold on Verg’s throat and was fumbling at the man’s pockets.
“Find keys,” he signed.
Poco quickly checked Verg’s belt. She heard the clink of metal against the stone floor and turned the man over. A moment later she held a ring of keys. She fought the trembling of her hands as she tried each key in the locks holding Screech prisoner. While she was busy with the keys, Screech untied Verg’s money pouch.
Seven keys and still she could not find the right one! Poco looked at Screech and saw that his attention was now on the cellar door. She listened and was sure she heard people moving overhead. Hurry! she told herself. Hurry, but don’t fumble.
Finally one of the keys slid into the lock. There was a click and Screech shook off one leg chain; he was impatient to be free.
The moment Poco released the last manacle, Screech stood and glided toward the cellar door. The table was still burning; the smoke was growing thick.
Poco grabbed up her pants, tunic, and boots. Then she saw Screech’s armband and her pendant and rings, which had been knocked off the table during the scuffle. She picked them up and joined Screech at the cellar door.
She started to say something, but Screech signaled her to stand quietly. All was silent above.
Poco slipped her tunic over her head; then suddenly Screech was moving. She followed him up the cellar steps and prayed that they would not meet any resistance above.
Screech paused at the top step and poked his head out around the doorway. Voices could be heard coming from the main dining room.
“Come on,” Poco whispered urgently. “Let’s get out of here!”
Screech bobbed his head, then he took her wrist and led her across the kitchen toward a side door.
He made sure the back alley was clear, then together they raced down the narrow dirt lane leading east away from the tavern. They stopped before they reached the main street, and Poco finished dressing.
She pulled her boots on and stood up. Screech was watching her; the blood around his mouth and over his neck and chest reminded her of Verg’s death. She had never seen Screech kill, not like that—and never a man.
He placed furred hands to her shoulders. Bending down so his face was even with hers, he coughed softly, his warm breath scented with blood.
Poco ignored the odor as she returned the cough, the derkat sign of acceptance.
“You saved my life,” he signed.
“And you mine,” she replied. She hesitated. “I have never seen you kill anyone before.”
“The men hurt you. Might have killed you. You are of my radg. It is my duty to protect you.” He paused then finished. “Angry?”
Poco shook her head.
“Does the Healer know you came to look for me?”
“I left before he was awake. I told Gi where I was going. I was worried when you did not return last night.”
“Men want to find the Healer.”
“Yes, I know. It means we will have to leave here.”
“Where do we go?”
“Jesh spoke about the Ni gathering in the north, and Dhal believes Jjaan-bi lies somewhere beyond the Chen-garry Mountains. Since we cannot go back to Port Bhalvar or to any of the other port towns on the Enzaar Sea, it leaves us little choice.”
“We must cross the High Plains to reach the Chen-garry Mountains.”<
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Poco nodded. “Derkat territory, Screech. Home for you.”
“My radg is my home,” he answered.
Poco smiled in understanding: The derkat’s home was wherever his family was, and that meant her. “Come on, Screech, let’s find Dhal and tell him what has happened. Oh, here, I picked this up before we left.” She handed him the single armband she had brought away with her. Her neck pendant already hung down inside her tunic.
Screech slipped the armband onto his lower right arm, then surprised Poco by pulling her close in a hug. Poco returned the embrace, carefully trying to avoid the drying blood on his chest fur.
Upon returning to camp, Poco convinced a very angry Dhal that Port Sulta had ceased to be a refuge for them. Dhal’s anger cooled as she explained the reason for Ssaal-lr’s abduction. She neglected to tell him the details of her own capture and humiliation, and finished by warning him that Jesh was not the kind of man to give up easily. “If we do not leave soon,” she said, “we may never leave at all.”
Chapter 6
TWO DAYS LATER, DHAL LED THE WAY INTO THE SMALL town of Anatat. Using the last of the money from Verg’s pouch, they purchased some supplies; but they did not linger, fearing that Jesh or his men might not be far behind them.
The narrow trail north from Anatat was overgrown with vine and grass. The giant aban trees to either side of the road formed a continuous canopy of dark green leaves. At the first touch of the spring rains due in a few weeks, the old leaves would fall off and for a short time sunlight would filter through to warm and revive the smaller plant life below. Poco shared Dhal’s love for the warm season and eagerly awaited the flowers and new growth that would soon abound in the woodlands.
Late in the afternoon they passed an abandoned holding. The buildings were weathered, the stockade broken. Without a Draak Watch to patrol the area, the land had been left to return to wilderness.
Poco shook her head as they passed the holding. The more she became involved with Dhal and his search for the Ni-lach, the more she realized how foolish the Sarissa had been to drive the Green Ones away. Without a Draak Watch, no one could plant or harvest the vast acreage needed to fill the stomachs of the hungry; and without the Watch, there could be no outward growth into new territories.
Poco was appalled by the very scope of the disaster facing mankind on Lach: She felt insignificant and a little guilty. True, she was half-blood Ni, but the blood of men also flowed in her veins. Was she betraying her mother’s people by searching out the Ni-lach? And if she and Dhal did, by some remote chance, find the Ni-lach, could she live among them and forget that elsewhere men were fighting draak to hold onto the little land they still possessed?
She stopped and looked back the way they had come. They had been climbing steadily since leaving Anatat, and in the distance she could see the green water of the Enzaar Sea. During her lifetime she had never been more than a few hours away from the sea. She could not help but wonder if she would ever return that way again.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep-throated growl.
Screech and Taav had stopped in the middle of the pathway ahead. When Poco caught up with them, Taav turned.
She looked into his eyes, searching for that flicker of presence that spoke of a thinking entity; but his eyes remained the same, open and watching, but somehow empty, as if conscious thought had been suspended.
He was dressed in one of her tunics and a pair of pants that belonged to Dhal. Gone was the pitiful bundle of bones and rags; after Dhal’s healing touch, and a few days of solid meals and exercise, Taav had become a new person.
Now, Poco thought, if we can only get Taav to talk to us.
She looked over the top of his head. She was about to ask Screech why they had stopped, when she saw Dhal running back down the trail toward them. Gi-arobi was down on all fours, running right behind him.
“Draak!” Dhal yelled. “Off the trail! Climb!”
Screech grabbed Taav around the waist and lifted him up and over his shoulder, then followed Poco into the dense underbrush at the side of the road.
Poco pushed her way around bushes and vine and headed for the nearest aban trees, looking for a tree strong enough to withstand the assault of an adult draak. She heard Screech growl and turned to see him point to a huge tree with branches reaching down far enough to make for easy climbing. She nodded.
When she reached the tree, she swung onto one of the lower branches and pulled herself up. Screech was right behind her with Taav.
“Keep climbing, Poco!” Dhal shouted as he ran past. “I’ll try to lead them away!”
Them? Poco’s heart dropped as she continued to climb. Damn fool, she thought. Probably get himself killed!
Poco heard the hiss of an aroused draak and turned to look back toward the road. She saw the head of a draak appear over the tops of the genna bushes lining the road, and right behind the one, came two more. The three draak were immature blues, perhaps four or five years old. Land draak were lighter in build then their water cousins, but it was not unusual for an adult land draak to stand as tall as a rilror pine.
The draak followed Dhal downtrail, their long, scaled necks outstretched, their tails whipping back and forth as they ran. Though draak looked ungainly, their lower bodies almost dragging on the ground, they moved quickly. Poco watched as they continued on out of sight, hissing and roaring at their escaping quarry.
She adjusted her hold on a branch above; then Screech climbed up beside her and pushed Taav into her lap. “Stay here,” he signed. “I will go help the Healer.”
Poco nodded and grabbed Taav around the waist. “Be careful,” she cautioned as Screech dropped quickly down from branch to branch. “And keep an eye out for Gi. I doubt he was able to keep up with Dhal!”
Poco interpreted the derkat’s growl as an affirmative, and turned her attention to her charge, who at that moment was sitting balanced on her right leg, his hands clutching her arm. She wondered if he was aware of what was going on.
She carefully inched her way along the branch until her back was against the trunk of the tree; she then clamped her legs around the limb and released her hold on the branch above. She finally maneuvered Taav’s left leg up and over so that he joined her in straddling the limb.
Sure that their positions were as secure as she could make them, she turned to listen to the sounds of the draak chase, trying to judge the direction of the hunt. “Just don’t let them get too close, Dhal,” she whispered softly.
Poco patted Taav’s shoulder and readjusted her arm about his waist. “We will just have to trust him to know what he is doing, won’t we, Taav? Are you comfortable?” She did not expect him to answer.
Time dragged on. The sounds of the chase had long since died away. The stillness of the forest was broken by the call of a neeva bird, a trilling sound that ended with a high note repeated four times. Poco noticed that Taav turned to listen when the call was answered by another neeva bird.
“Do you like that, Taav?” she asked softly, her lips close to his ear. “That is a neeva bird. Have you ever seen a neeva, Taav?”
Poco shrugged when Taav failed to respond to her voice. Dhal thinks you can talk, friend, she thought, but how long do we wait? If you do not show some signs of improvement soon, what will we do with you?
Time stretched on and still there was no sign of Dhal or Screech. Poco was worried, and Taav was growing increasingly restless. She did think about leaving her perch to look for her friends, but she feared that she lacked both the strength and coordination to help Taav climb down; a fall from such a height would kill.
Poco readjusted her hold on Taav and tried to ease cramped muscles in arms, back, and legs. Suddenly, Taav leaned forward over her arm, reaching for a branch.
“No, Taav! Sit still!” Poco cried. “I cannot hold you if you are going to—I said, stop it!”
Taav twisted around and began to emit strange mouth noises. Before Poco could stop him, he brought his left leg up and over
the branch and was slipping out of her grasp.
Poco clamped her legs tight around the limb and readjusted her hold on Taav, using both arms to quell his struggles. She was not sure what had set him off and could think of only one way to quiet him.
She chose a song about the flying griff which hunted the high plateaus of Sala, far east of the Reaches. Poco had never seen one of the winged cat-creatures, but she had heard them described, and in her mind she likened them to sleek fishing vessels, their billowing sails lending themselves to imagery of great wings dipping to currents of air blowing across open water.
Taav stilled his struggles as the first few notes of song trembled in the air.
Poco continued to sing and carefully pulled Taav up until he again sat on the main limb, his legs dangling to one side.
Suddenly Taav turned to look at her. Poco was startled by the directness of his gaze and stopped singing; but the pause was only momentary, for as soon as the music ended, Taav tried to push away from her.
All right, so I sing, she thought. She started a familiar dock song and Taav went still once more, his gaze never leaving her face.
She sang the chorus of the song, which described old wooden docks lying in the sun and wharfmen moving about their work, nodding to one another as they laid their catches out to dry. Suddenly she became aware of movement reflected in Taav’s eyes, of shadows which began to take the form of ships and docks.
She drew back, startled. The song died on her lips.
Taav sat perfectly still in a trancelike state.
Poco shivered as she stared into his eyes, for the scene reflected there was achingly familiar: Port Bhalvar! There was no mistaking the place where she had lived so long.
She shook her head, unable to believe what she was seeing. The picture she had drawn was etched with words this time, not chalk, and in Taav’s eyes rather than on a stone walk.
She leaned closer, searching the scene before her, waiting for it to shimmer and vanish. Her song pictures always disappeared a few moments after she stopped singing. Taav’s eyes were tiny compared to the wide stone slates to which she was accustomed, still she could easily see everything in the song: boats, docks, men.
Shadow Singer Page 5
