by Dave Duncan
For a long while the three invaders rode in silence. Kade was still uncharacteristically downcast, and Inos could only conclude that the uncanny encounter with the petrified army still weighed on her mind. She was old; any reminder of death must seem morbid to a woman of her years, but Kade would certainly spring back soon.
Azak was tense, vigilant, his eyes never still. Not wishing to distract him with conversation, Inos let herself become caught up in the birdsong. A steady flow of it filled the woods like musical rainbows. Once in a very long while she would see a tiny shape flash away; mostly the singers stayed out of sight and emptied their souls in chorus and counterpoint. A thousand years we have practiced, they said, waiting for someone to return and hear our song. Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!
Harness creaked and jingled, but the spongy ground muffled the mules' tread. At times the river made itself heard, chattering busily off to the left somewhere, telling the way, promising it would lead them to its bigger brother and that together they would venture to the sea.
The beauty of the morning was a balm to all fears, pure gold. Nowhere could seem less accursed than this.
The approach of noon lessened the birds' symphony, and Azak was the first to become talkative, as he began to relax. He pointed out some of what his tracker's eyes were seeing—ancient traces of buildings and trails, animal tracks and how old they were. Those scats were from a wild dog; domestic dogs' were less tapered. The bark of trees bore ravages of woodpeckers, the rubbing of antlers, old claw marks of bears.
"You didn't learn all this in the desert!" Inos said accusingly.
Blood-red eyes twinkled, "In the mountains, the Agonistes. When I was small."
If that was a hint of some personal history she did not know of, he failed to add to it. He went back to the wildlife. Deer and goats for certain, he said, and probably wild cattle.
But no people. When the time came to rest the mules and feed the riders, Azak was joyful. No cut trees, no tracks, no fences, no smoke. There were no people in Thume, he said. Anything else he could handle, of course, except demons.
Inos smiled, and assured him politely that she trusted both his eye and his arm.
Kade said nothing, frowning around and biting her lip.
"This is a splendid place to make camp!" Azak proclaimed royally, encompassing the glade with a sweeping gesture of approval.
Inos had been lost in a reverie of plans for Hub. Startled, she suppressed a snigger. At times that large young man assumed lofty airs that were not in keeping with his ragged robes and wildly bushy red beard—nor with his posture, for his legs were very nearly as long as his mule's. He had ridden all across the mountains with his feet almost trailing on the ground, and he could probably dismount by walking backward on tiptoe if he wished. Still, even if habit still made him pontificate sometimes, he had proved far more adaptable than she would ever have suspected back in Arakkaran. He had watched his dominion shrink from a kingdom to a single caravan and then to two women, and he had never complained or seemed to feel slighted. He had turned out to be a superb woodsman just as he had been a superb ruler of a kingdom. Whatever the game, whatever the stakes, Azak played with all his heart, and with all the native skill of a born winner.
He had his faults, Azak ak'Azakar, but he was a magnificent chunk of royalty.
Yet why this sudden change of heart? He had forced the pace ever since the hurried departure from Elkarath's caravan, so why a call to pitch camp now, with at least two hours' daylight left? They had no tent to erect and, while the clearing was a pleasant enough spot, it was no better than a dozen others they had seen.
Inos shot him a puzzled glance. "We hear and obey, Protector of the Poor, Beloved of the Gods!"
"Of course!" A smile flashed out of his red bush like an escaping bird, but Inos was certain that the ruby eyes had read every thought in her head. Who would ever have believed that Azak could handle her teasing so well? How had he ever learned?
Then his eyes flickered a signal. Inos twisted around to look at Kade, who was bringing up the rear.
Idiot! Furious that she had been so thoughtless—and that Azak should have noticed what she had not—Inos slid from her saddle, dropped her reins, and hurried back to Kade's mule.
"Aunt! Are you not feeling well?"
"Oh, I'm quite well, dear. Why are we stopping?" The pale-blue eyes made a great effort to find their old sparkle—and failed. No matter what she said, Kade was not better; she was worse. Whatever was wrong was taking a price. She was humped in her saddle, she seemed to have aged ten years, and for the first time in Inos's experience, her absurdly uncrushable cheerfulness had failed her.
"Azak thinks we should make camp now."
The news was not welcome. Kade twitched and looked around with evident alarm. "Oh, surely we can make a league or two before dark?"
"He thinks not. Here, let me help you down."
"Oh, I think we should continue!" Kade protested.
"Why?"
"The sheik? Queen Rasha?"
"The sheik is not going to catch us after all this time, Aunt. The mules need a rest." And so do you!
"Well . . . We might find a better campsite?"
"Azak insists that this one is perfect," Inos said firmly.
It was at least satisfactory, a grassy meadow in a wide loop of the busy river, with water on three sides and unusually bushy forest closing off the fourth. Even if the mules pulled up their pickets, they would not stray far unless the weather turned bad, and at the moment the weather was perfect: hot sunshine and cool breeze. Here and there the sward buckled in low mounds that hinted at ancient dwellings, perhaps a farm—given a little leisure time, those might be fun to explore for relics—and the only other landmark was a small copse in the middle, a dozen or so spindly trees. Inos knew enough of Azak's thinking now to guess his intent. He would embellish those saplings into an illusion of shelter, and it would have open ground all around. Practical man!
Still murmuring reluctance, Kade dismounted. Azak's mule, already stripped of its tack, was rolling in the thick grass with all four legs in me air, obviously agreeing with his opinion of this place.
In another half hour or so, the work was done. Azak had chopped saplings and branches from the woods and dragged them over to the copse to fashion a windbreak. Kade was sitting in there, brewing a peaceful pan of tea on a small fire. The mules were contentedly chomping grass at the end of long tethers, and Inos was standing on the riverbank with Azak. A brief inspection of the mounds had turned up nothing more interesting than old hearthstones, the day was not over yet, and she wasn't sure what she wanted to do next.
Azak was shielding his eyes with his hand as he studied the westering sun. Estimating time, likely.
Inos wondered idly how it would feel to throw her arms around that oversized camel jockey and kiss him till his beard smoked, to be herself kissed as Andor had once kissed her. Actually Andor's kiss had not been all that spectacular, even if he had used occult power. The kiss she really remembered, out of her very small collection, had been when Rap had been leaving for the spring drive and . . . but Rap was dead, and while she had a certain natural curiosity about how an overgrown, bush-bearded sultan might kiss, she could not detect any real excitement in herself in considering the prospect. Nor any real desire to try it, even were Rasha's curse to be revoked. So perhaps she was not making much progress in the falling-in-love department.
She could not imagine any man she would rather have here to guard her against the dangers of a savage land—as long as his curse was in place, of course—and very few men she could less easily imagine wanting to share the rest of her life with. Trust in love? Fun to have around, perhaps, but . . . every day? Every night?
Gods, but he had noticed her stare! She turned quickly to face the wind. "Is that the sea I can smell?"
There was a heart-stopping pause, then he said, "I think so. It can't be very far off—two days, maybe."
"Then we head west, to Qoble?"
/> "Maybe. We shall come to that large river, and we are on the wrong side of it."
She should have thought of that, of course! "I feel very grubby. This water will be warm, I expect."
He frowned at the arc of white sand fringing the meadow. "The current is swift, little kitten."
"Oh, I shan't go in deep. I can't swim. It's quiet this side."
Near the sand, the water was barely bothering to move the leaves drifting on its surface, but the far bank had been undercut into a small cliff and there the river was bundled in glistening, motionless waves below the overhanging forest boughs. Even as she watched, a floating stick went leaping through those waves at an astonishing speed.
Azak grunted, peering upstream and downstream, and also across at the jungle, which was thick and dark, casting shadows on the river. "Crocodiles?"
"No!"
"Well, I can't see any," he admitted. "But don't trust floating logs, especially if they smile at you."
Inos shivered. "I shall certainly keep that in mind. But I will wash the clothes—and me."
"I'll stay within earshot." He spoke seriously, his face expressionless.
Inos realized that she had been expecting a wisecrack, perhaps a joke about keeping careful watch—the sort of racy retort she would have received from her friends among the stablehands and servants of Krasnegar. Even the young dandies at Kinvale would likely have tried to mask embarrassment with wit. Not Azak. Of course the female body held no secrets for him, and to spy on her would be self-inflicted torment. His sense of fun was an intermittent, unpredictable thing anyway.
"You are going hunting!" she said firmly.
"Oh! I am?" He pursed his ups in astonishment.
"Yes, you are. You know we're short of supplies. Fresh meat will be a welcome change after all those pancakes and dates and things. You have time."
He nodded, amused. "And who will defend you?"
She began walking back to the shelter. "What is there to defend from? Mosquitoes?"
"Lions," he said, following.
"No!"
"I saw some spoor, a long way back."
Tramping through knee-high grass, she said, "Don't lions hunt at night?"
"That depends on how hungry they are, and how appetizing the prey. Some people look very appetizing. Sunset is a favorite time. Besides, they might be tigers, and I trust those even less."
"I would enjoy a nice slice of venison, or a plump bird." She was not a witless city girl who panicked at a mention of lions.
He shrugged. "As you wish. It won't take me long to find something."
Obviously he did not rank the lions and tigers very high as a danger if he was willing to leave two women alone for even a short while. They had all been together too much for too long; a break would do them all good.
"Don't mention lions to Kade."
"I won't, but you keep the other bow to hand while I am gone."
Clearly Inos was still one of the boys, and his faith in her competence was both flattering and reassuring.
She sat and sipped a pan of scalding tea with Kade. By the time it was finished, Azak had saddled up the largest mule and ridden it off into the trees. The others snickered to it a few times and then lost interest. Kade was still strangely twitchy and nervous and obviously trying not to show it.
"He won't be gone long, will he?"
"Azak? No." How odd! Inos thought that Kade ought to be finding Azak's absence restful—usually he made her jumpy. "Tell me what's wrong, Aunt."
Normally Kade's rosy cheeks were lighted by internal sunshine. Today strange shadows seemed to dull them. "Nothing! Nothing at all! Just superstition, the Accursed Land."
"Well, I have never met a name less suited. It's idyllic. Azak's quite sure there are no people here."
Kade nodded, uncertain. Then the old blue eyes steadied on Inos. "You're not changing your mind, dear, are you?"
"About what?" Inos had not seen Kade wear quite that expression since their first weeks together in Kinvale.
"Well, Azak. I know he's being very persistent." Kade blushed. "He's a very handsome man, in his way, and—"
"We're planning the announcement as soon as we arrive at . . ." Inos laughed and shook her head. "No, I have not changed my mind! I feel easier in his company than I did, maybe, and I do find him fun at times. But you needn't start polishing the state plate yet."
"Well, I just wondered. I hope you don't mind my asking?"
"Of course not! Now, do you want to sit here, or come and do laundry with me?"
Kade considered, and seemed to make an effort to overcome some daytime nightmare. "I'll stay here and watch the fire. I'll come and have a wash later."
Odd! But the mountains had been very hard going. A good night's rest was the least of what Kade needed, and had earned. Even an hour's solitude might be good for her.
And she might credit her niece with just a little more self-control. Handsome man indeed! There were lots of handsome men. And nice outside didn't necessarily mean nice inside. Things like honesty and reliability didn't always show in faces. Andor had been handsome, and who could have been plainer-looking than Rap?
Leaving her aunt sitting in her shift, Inos bundled up their two robes and all the spare linen, and stalked off toward the sand and the river. About a third of the way there she remembered Azak's warning to keep weapons handy. She stopped and considered. The idea of her bringing down a charging lion or a brace of tigers was not a very convincing one. On the other hand, he had been serious and he had trusted her. Azak had a very harsh tongue for those who disobeyed his orders. How would she feel if something dangerous did come and she had ignored so obvious a precaution? Feeling rather foolish, she marched determinedly back to the shelter, added a bow and three arrows to her load, and set off again for the water.
She untied her robe, and was amused to find herself pausing and glancing around before continuing to undress, even though she knew there had been no snoopers in these parts for a thousand years. She left her shift on. Adding her outer clothes to the others, she knelt down in cool water and set to work as well as she could with only a scrap of crude goat-tallow soap and with no rocks to beat them. Then she spread them on the long, warm grass to dry.
By that time, the air was chill on her skin, for the sun had ducked below the high treetops. As the air had cooled, so the water had seemed to become warmer. If she did not take her dip soon, the crocodiles might sneak up on her in the dark.
She took a careful look at the river and could see no floating logs, with or without smiles. A mule brayed in the distance, so Azak must be returning already, and she was surprised to discover how comforting that knowledge was—solitude had become an unfamiliar sensation.
Trying to remember when she had last been completely alone, she stripped to the skin and waded out into the river. Soon the current was unpleasantly strong, tugging at her legs and prizing the sand out from under her toes. By the time she was knee deep, she dared go no farther. She knelt and soaped, splashed and rubbed.
Two mules whinnied.
She ducked her head for one last rinse, then started back to the shore, squeezing water from her hair. She rubbed wetness off her skin with her hands, wishing she had some of those seductively soft towels from the palace in Arakkaran. She reluctantly concluded that she would have to dress in damp clothes . . .
Mules did not whinny!
Then she heard Kade scream.
2
In the muddle of memories that Inos retained of the ensuing events, it always seemed as if the sun went down at that exact same instant—as if she left the water in daylight, leaped across the sand and up the bank with one jump, and landed on the turf in dusk. Deep shadows of the high forest crown filled the meadow as she raced across it, her bow in one hand, three arrows and a wet shift in the other, pursued by every terror her mind could conjure. Twigs and small pebbles dug at her bare feet, and thorny flower stems under the long grass scraped her shins. She stumbled over tussocks and hidden r
idges. Her damp skin was cool, to match the icy horror inside her, and her hair was a wet rag flopping on her back.
Kade! Oh, Kade!
The mules had not screamed as they would have done for lions. The mules were still there, eating contentedly. Inos could see them, vague shapes in the gathering dusk. The whinny-noises had been ponies, or horses.
Why would Kade have screamed just once?
And a sudden flash of clarity—what did Inos think she was doing racing across the meadow in the nude? Why, oh, why, did she never stop to think? She should have taken the three seconds necessary to pull on a robe, instead of just grabbing up a sodden scrap of underwear that wasn't going to do very much good if the danger was human. Specifically, man-type human. That insight struck her about halfway from the river to the little windbreak; she stumbled, recovered, decided she could not desert Kade, and kept on running, heart pounding now from fear and exertion both.
Smoke still drifted from the tangled screen of branches Azak had woven between the saplings. Nothing looked disturbed. Kade was in there, or behind there. With what? With whom?
A mule brayed, and they all raised their heads—
Eight of them! Four mules and four horses. Saddled horses. Full-size horses, dim in the twilight. Well-trained horses, with their reins left dangling, cropping grass. Maybe a minute had passed since Kade screamed, and then a man stepped out of the shelter.
Inos dug in her toes, windmilled her arms once, and stopped dead, gasping for breath and simultaneously tucking the arrows under her arm and trying to arrange her skimpy covering like a curtain in front of herself with her free hand. It wasn't very satisfactory.
He had seen her. He held out his hands in welcome and called something. She made out not a single word, but his meaning was clear enough: Here she comes. Three other men emerged at his side, indistinct in the gloom. She could see few details, but they were men, young men, and she had no clothes on.
