Paul O Williams - [Pelbar Cycle 02]

by The Ends of the Circle (v0. 9) (epub)

  Ilage gasped and turned white. Those were Ahroe’s words. So she was some kind of spy, after all. He didn’t know what a wild turkey was, either. Perhaps some kind of cow. Ilage bowed. “We will have to confer, and we will return as we said, and let you know if there are needs you can fulfill for us.”

  “Something is wrong,” said Howarth.

  “You were about as diplomatic as an axe,” said Stel. “You certainly knew better how to appeal to me when you wanted to know how to make paper.”

  “We had wronged you. Besides, that was important, a matter of knowledge. They would have put us off in the end anyway. It makes little difference. Did you see the way that gnome talked?”

  At the central council of the priests, when Ilage reported the encounter, Ahroe was outside, talking to Boldar. “They aren’t a fierce and wild people at all. I saw them from the wall. They are thin and ragged. Only one was bearded, and he looked different. It is wrong not to negotiate.”

  Boldar smiled and said, ‘The priests will decide.” He was surprised when Ren parted the robe and called him in. He was not gone long. Ahroe was worried. Had she helped these people, who were comparatively rich and well situated, to refuse the destitute? That was not only uncharitable. It was also unwise. Desperate people do desperate things.

  Boldar was not long. He came out slowly, reached down and plucked a couple of weeds, then, before Ahroe wondered what had been wanted, he pinioned her arms. She kicked and thrust, but he held her as three others wrapped rope around her flailing legs, then slipped loops around her wrists and bound her.

  Ilage came out and looked down where she panted at his feet. “I knew you were a spy when I first saw you. I told them.”

  “A spy?”

  “A spy. But the bearded one gave you away.”

  “The bearded one? Who?”

  “He said a wild turkey could knock down the wall. Just as you did. It was unwise. But Deity will protect his people, and it was revealed to us in due time.”

  “What is a wild turkey?” said Boldar.

  ‘That is it. No one knows. But they both know. That proves it. And here you have taken our hospitality while you have been just a snake in the garden.” He shuddered and then spat at her.

  Ahroe was bewildered. She struggled and pleaded, but to no avail. She was put in a large root cellar with a guard by the door. He was young and pimply. He sneered at her and picked his nose. She needn’t worry. Her friends would be defeated, he told her. Then she would be alone and. guess what he would do with her.

  “Ask Ilage who helped him with his defense system,” she said, ignoring the threat. “Would a spy do that?”

  The adolescent laughed. “There was some trick to that, too. Ilage said you set up a good system to lull us into thinking we were safe. Then you would get word to your friends exactly what the defense was so they could avoid it. They are studying it now to see what weaknesses you put in the system.”

  “Then you had better abandon the whole system. After all, it was the concept of a spy.”

  “It is too good.”

  “You make no sense at all.” As she talked, Ahroe thought she finally made a little headway with the cords on her wrists. No. It was impossible.

  On the hill above Cull, the Commuters came at the appointed time. The wind still increased, blowing around the legs of the waiting men and women. No one came from Cull.

  “It is just as I thought. We ought to take them now.” “There are still the traps. It is odd. I don’t understand it at all. Perhaps there was another western Pelbar beside Scule. It is all so familiar.”

  “Maybe it is a classic method, like the identity of our songs,” said Howarth.

  “Perhaps. But it is so characteristically Pelbar.”

  “Well, what do you suggest?”

  “Wait until night and nullify the traps. Meanwhile go away so they have no sight of us. Listen, isn’t that man shouting at us from the wall?”

  “I can’t make it out. I thought he said they captured our spy. Cano, do you know of a spy we have sent?”

  “No,” she said simply. “I know of none. Does anyone?”

  All looked puzzled. Turning their horses, they rode back over the crest of the hill, meeting a blast of hot air as they reached it. Howarth squinted up. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that was rain in those clouds.”

  “For the mountains,” said Shay.

  In her prison, Ahroe heard a sound at the door. It was Mati, bringing Garet to be nursed. The heavy woman sat in front of Ahroe, holding the baby to her breast. Ilage came in after her. Ahroe reddened at her exposure, but the priest had changed, and he and the guard seemed to enoy it.

  Ahroe bowed her head, saying, “Garet must eat, but they must go.” Mati said nothing. “Mati, I am not any spy. I don’t understand. A wild turkey is a big bird in the east. It lives in the woods. Somebody among them must have been there.”

  “He even talked like you,” said Ilage, “a degraded accent.”

  Ahroe started. “What color were his eyes?”

  “His eyes? I don’t recall. I was busy. I didn’t have to notice details to see his strangeness. He was odd, with his beard and his hair cut like a bowl.”

  “He wanted to negotiate, didn’t he, not to fight,” said Ahroe, feeling faint.

  “Yes, of course. You agree in that, too, thinking to gain from us that way what you were unable to with our wall. See? You still give yourself away.”

  So it was Stel. Her Stel. After all this way, she had actually seen him, without knowing it, from the wall. She had helped prepare defenses against Stel, and tomorrow he would come through the trap field, never dreaming that it was there, to meet spears she had helped sharpen against him. She looked up at Mati, with tears. “Mati, you must protect me from him tonight,” she said.

  “And who will protect us from you?”

  “Please leave Garet with me.”

  “He has done nothing. We will keep him even when they execute you. We will do you that kindness, but for the sake of the child. He shall be properly raised.”

  “Good Aven, the child of Stel raised to grub roots in the desert and believe that songs push up the sun. He must be returned to the Heart River.”

  “If there is such a place. I doubt it.”

  “Please send Boldar to guard me tonight.”

  “Why? So you can convince him to let you go?”

  “I can trust him. This one is another Dilm.” The young man stood and spat at her, but the glob of mucus slapped down on Mati’s ear. She screamed and made for him. He ducked out the door as she threw a rock after him. Garet lay on the floor, kicking and crying. Mati returned and picked him up. She was still furious. Her eyes blazed as she looked at Ahroe. Then, taking Garet, she stamped out. Ilage stood smiling down at her.

  “Like your plot, you are uncovered.”

  Ahroe leaned forward. “What can I do about it?” “Nothing, apparently.” He turned and left.

  Before long, Boldar came, grim-faced. “So now I have to stay here. Don’t worry. You won’t get away from me.” “Boldar, cover me up.”

  He looked and turned his head away.

  “I can’t sit here like this.” She laughed almost hysterically. “I guess I have lost all my Dahmen pride now, haven’t I. But you are at least decent, Boldar. Cover me up. Surely you see this is immoral.”

  The big man turned, sat on his heels, and with clumsy lingers drew her shirt and deep-cut tunic over her and tied the cord. Both were embarrassed.

  “Boldar, do you know people are going to die? Can’t the priests make some agreement?”

  “Be quiet,” he said, going to sit in the doorway. “I have nothing to say to you.” When the adolescent returned, Boldar gave him a look, and he left.

  Night crossed the canyons and deepened. Ahroe asked for a drink. Without speaking, Boldar gave her some water and returned to his place. Did he sleep? No. Every time she stirred, he looked. She had worked on the cords that held her, slowly and quietly, f
or some time before she felt the first one begin to give. Fortunately it was dark. Boldar still sat impassively in the doorway. Even down in this valley the wind gusted now, occasionally blowing dust in his face.

  At this time, Stel and a group of about thirty moved forward through the trap field, disarming it. Everything was done by hand signals and touches, as Stel had worked it out. Behind them, an ever larger group brought sand forward and poured it into the ditches, smoothing them over as they were before. Stel seemed to know exactly where to go to find them. Shay grew suspicious. It was too neat. He watched Stel more closely.

  Eventually they were right under the wall and could hear Rockpilers talking. They spoke of the spy, the crops, and the difficulties of irrigation. At least forty men were there, but most slept.

  Shay touched Stel’s shoulder and whispered, “We could take them now.”

  “They outnumber us. We need the momentum of the cattle. We have to be here in full strength and strike deep into the valley before they all gather. Sunrise.”

  It seemed to make enough sense. Back at the fire, Stel was as openly puzzled as the others. The trap field had been finely executed. “It is as if Oet designed it. She is the guard chief of Pelbarigan. This makes no sense at all.” “Well, the traps are all gone now, aren’t they?”

  “I think so. We really covered the hill. And we have posted guards to see they do nothing more.”

  “Then let it go. We will find out eventually. Let us have some music.”

  “Softly. We don’t want them to hear.”

  “In this wind, no one could hear.”

  They played a number of songs with a group of stringed instruments and Stel’s flute. Finally he stuck it in his belt, saying, “If I’m going to get myself killed tomorrow morning, I think I’d like to sleep a little now. Sleep a little and then leap a lot.” He walked into the shadows to his sleepsack, unrolled it, and crawled in.

  Shay watched him, standing with Elseth. “I don’t trust him. Something is odd about those traps.”

  “You trust none of my friends, Shay.”

  “Your friend?”

  Elseth put her arm around him. “Brother, he did something for me—just by talking to me. He wanted nothing from me but thoughts, but company.”

  “Don’t fool yourself again, sister.”

  “Oh, I know. He is a normal man, but he was so wholly free. He came along and said, ‘Here I am. I will help. Come down and I will fix your scaffold.’ It was in pretty bad shape, you know.”

  “He didn’t do much.”

  “He showed me another model of behavior. There is nothing wrong with him. He has been through a lot. He has become self-contained. He is as independent as a cactus, needing only a little rain once in a great while.”

  “I don’t understand about the traps.”

  “Neither do I. Perhaps we will.”

  In the pitch-black cellar at Cull, Ahroe finally heard Boldar’s even snoring, light but sure. Taking a chance, she rubbed the cords hard on the rock wall. After what seemed a terribly long time, they gave. She worked on the ankle cords for a maddening length of time. Then she stood and nearly fell with stiffness. She stepped over Boldar with precise silence and groped along the wall in the direction of the nursery.

  As she slipped inside the door, she could dimly see rows of beds. A tentative hand showed her all were empty, even Garet’s. She would try Mati’s home.

  Was that the first faint wave of light in the east? Ahroe slipped through the street and into Mati’s courtyard. Inside the doorway she could see the dim outline of the older woman in a side room. Two babies slept in a large basket by her. Quickly, Ahroe ran a finger over the two tiny chins. Garet’s was cleft—like Stel’s. She gathered him up and stole out into the night. Yes, that was dawn coming.

  Once in the fields, she walked rapidly toward the upper wall. The four guard stations she herself had placed—too well, she thought now—loomed ahead. Light was growing. So was the wind. Surely there was rain in that wind. Garet began to cry. Ahroe stuffed the corner of his blanket into his mouth and winced at her own child’s discomfort. Better to be gagged than an Original, she thought.

  Behind her, lights and shouts showed that her escape had been discovered. She had to move fast. Soon they could see her. Was that a drop of rain? No. It couldn’t be.

  The easiest vantage for her would be the south station, by the outcrop. It should have at least ten guards in it. Behind her the shouts grew louder. Now surely they could see her. It was true dawn. Yet she had to pause here, kneeling in the gravelly dirt. Were the guards awake? No. True to their complacent nature, they all reclined in sleep. The Deity would protect them. They were needed to push up the sun.

  Ahroe heard footsteps behind her. It was Boldar, com ing fast. She scrambled up the wall and started across the trap field. A gust of wind blew the blanket, and Garet started to scream.

  “Get back,” Ahroe yelled. “It is a trap. Get back.” At the ridge crest a line of figures appeared. Ahroe yelled again, her legs driving. Above a figure detached itself from the line.

  Boldar was nearly on her. Ahroe strained ahead, and as she did, the figure from above flashed by her. She saw him reach for a stick in his belt. A stick? He slammed into Boldar with a solid thud. The big man went down with a yell.

  Ahroe shouted again, “Get back, back. They are waiting. There are traps.” She gasped. A woman was coming forward, and Ahroe impulsively thrust Garet into her arms so she could run on. The cattle were already milling and lowing. Again she screamed, “Get back,” at the advancing line of stock and men, waving her arms. A new gust of wind almost blew her down, and with it came a patter of rain, then a rush. A man took her shoulders. “What is this?” he shouted against the roaring rain. “Who are you? Not one of them.”

  “Stop. The whole field is full of traps. You will not make it to the wall.”

  “Stel told us how to dismantle them last night.”

  “Stel? Stel? Where?” She wheeled around to where a man stood over Boldar, now far down the slope. Blown rain almost obscured them.

  The big man sat in the rain, crying, “You’ve stabbed me in the eye. You destroyed my eye.”

  Stel looked at his flute, which he had grabbed from his belt, impulsively thinking it was his short-sword as he drove into the man chasing that woman.

  Elseth advanced and handed Garet to Stel. “Don’t just stand there, Stel. He is hurt.” She went to Boldar and knelt by him. “Sit still. It was only his flute. You have been blinded by the power of his art. Lie down and let me look at it.”

  Stel had taken the baby in puzzlement and now looked at the face, screwed up with its crying. Garet opened his eyes for a fresh breath. Gray. A new gust of rain lashed the baby’s face, and Stel held him against his shoulder. Then he frowned, paused, looked again. Cattle were all over the slope, milling and lowing in fear. Something was familiar in that face.

  The full fury of the rain fell on them, and the terrified cattle could not be driven, but turned and ran off, with men and women chasing them.

  “My eye. He put it out,” Boldar yelled.

  “Lie down and open it. It is not so bad. Let me see.”

  “It is all muddy here.”

  Shay ran down the slope. “Elseth, come away. You will be trampled. He will hurt you.”

  “He is a child. He hurt his eye.” She took the big man’s head in her arms and held him so she could see the wound.

  A small party of men with spears started from the wall to rescue Boldar, but Stel advanced on them, now with his longbow ready—as ready as he could make it with this unaccountable baby. Someone was beside him.

  “Get away. We only want Boldar.”

  “My eye,” Boldar yelled.

  “Stop, you baby. It is all right. Here, it is only bleeding.”

  “Elseth, come away. You are down in the mud.”

  “Is that you, Ahroe?”

  “No. I am Elseth.”

  “All right, you four. Get down that h
ill before I put an arrow in each of you,” Stel shouted. “Will somebody come and take this baby?”

  “It is your baby, Stel.”

  “It’s the bearded man. And the woman, Ahroe.” Five gaunt cattle dashed across the slope, and the four Originals retreated.

  “See? Your eye is all right. It will be black.”

  “You are not Ahroe. Who are you?”

  “Elseth. I told you.”

  A cow bumped Stel, jolting him. What? “Your baby, Stel”? Had he heard someone say, “Ahroe”? He turned to the figure by him, running with the torrent. She was laughing, her hair plastered to her cheeks, her face streaming with rain, keeping one eye on the figures down the slope. Stel felt weak. Ahroe? His Ahroe? What? How was it possible? And the child? His baby. It was his own face he saw. He looked again, holding Garet’s face out in the rain. Did he ever cry like that? Well, he had been kept out of the rain.

  “Give me the longbow.” He did.

  “Ahroe? My Ahroe? I don’t understand. But the traps. You set them up.”

  “Yes. For the wild and bestial Commuters, according to them. It was my mistake.”

  “What? The rain is too loud.”

  Ahroe shouted in his ear, “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. We are all together. Look. It is your boy, Garet. See his face?”

  “Garet?”

  Stel hitched him up on a shoulder and put his arms around Ahroe, holding her in the rain. She held his longbow still strung, with an arrow nocked. The swirl of people and animals had left the hill, except for Boldar and Elseth, and Shay standing near. Boldar’s eye was clearing slowly. He couldn’t understand the two still figures standing together in all the whirl of rain and wind.

  “It is Stel with some woman and a baby,” said Elseth, her face glistening. She blew some drops off her nose. More streamed down.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Elseth. I am a Commuter. Are you frightened?” “Oh. No. What is going on?”

  “We are out in the rain. It is only late August, and it is raining. Did you notice?”

  “My eye. How it hurts.”

  “Yes. Would you like to go home? It is that way.”

  “No. I will soon enough. There is no work in the rain. I guess we won’t have a fight today. I want to find out what is going on.”