***
Ran-Del was in the lead again, bow at the ready. Francesca carried their pack and seemed to be keeping up better.
Suddenly, Ran-Del felt a nagging, niggling pricking from his psy sense. There was something up ahead. He held out an arm to halt Francesca.
“What is it?” she whispered, leaning close. She had learned a lot about moving quietly.
“I don’t know,” Ran-Del said, not bothering to whisper. Whatever it was, it wasn’t that close. “I don’t hear anything, but something or someone is up ahead.”
“Could it be Pop?”
Ran-Del debated. It didn’t feel right for it to be another capture. He felt no sense of impending disaster, no jeopardy or consternation. He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He glanced up at the sun directly overhead. “Let’s take a rest. We can sit over there, in the shade of those bower trees.”
He led the way, taking the pack from Francesca, and slinging it against a tree.
Francesca flopped down next to it and leaned back with relief. “Oof! My feet hurt.”
Ran-Del sat down on the ground near her and studied her feet. “Those boots look sturdy enough.”
She gave him a cheerful grin. “It’s not the boots. I’m just not used to walking this much.”
Ran-Del glanced around. Nothing moved. Nothing explained his premonition. “Rest for a while. I want to wait until this feeling goes away before we move on.”
Francesca twisted around, trying to get comfortable against the bent-over trunk of the bower tree. Finally, she leaned against Ran-Del’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Ran-Del put an arm around her in case she fell asleep. Neither of them had mentioned what had happened the previous night. Except for his mother and grandmother, Ran-Del had never been so near a woman for such an extended period of time, or felt enough familiarity to be casual about physical contact.
Francesca had dozed off when Ran-Del's sense of forewarning grew suddenly stronger. He sat up straight, scanning the land up ahead, convinced that someone was coming. Francesca slipped from his shoulder and came awake with a jerk.
“What is it?” she asked anxiously.
“Someone’s coming,” Ran-Del said, getting to his feet and gripping his bow. “Except I think it’s many someones.”
He pulled Francesca into the shadows of the trees, and they waited. A little ways ahead, a dot appeared over a rise of land. In a moment, the dot bobbed up and down and resolved itself into a man’s head, a man running. In another few seconds, the entire man appeared, followed quickly by another man, and then another. They all ran in a steady jog trot, not moving in formation but keeping pace so that they stayed together as a group. Ran-Del counted as they came over the hill. There were twenty-one of them, all men it seemed. The last man in line led a lamel by a leading rein. When they got a little closer, Ran-Del goggled in astonishment.
“Ran-Del,” Francesca said, puzzled, “they look like you. I mean, their clothes look like your clothes.”
“They’re Sansoussy.” Ran-Del stared at the man at the head of the loose column. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had close-cropped hair that even at this distance Ran-Del could see had gone gray. He looked past his prime, but kept pace with the group with no trouble. Ran-Del recognized him immediately; he was the last person Ran-Del had expected to see.
“Come,” Ran-Del ordered, scrambling to his feet. He tugged at the cable and almost dragged Francesca behind him as he ran forward to meet his people.
She had difficulty in keeping up, and then almost ran into him when he stopped abruptly, to wait for the group to approach him.
Ran-Del stood still, head bowed and eyes lowered respectfully, with Francesca a little behind him. The column of Sansoussy dropped to a walk, and the man at the head of the column stepped up to Ran-Del.
“It’s good to see you, Ran-Del.”
Ran-Del raised his eyes in a glad smile. “It’s good to see you, Grandfather.”
The older man held out his arms, and Ran-Del embraced him with wild enthusiasm.
“How did you find me?” Ran-Del demanded, pulling back at last. “How did you know I was here?”
“Father sent me,” Isayah said. “He told me approximately where you’d be. I’ve been following my own psy sense all morning.”
“I should have known!” Ran-Del said, grinning. “I knew it was someone, but I couldn’t tell who it was.”
Isayah glanced at the flexitron cable and then at Francesca. He looked from her face to the cable, and back at Ran-Del.
“Well,” he said, smiling quizzically, “it appears there were some things even Father didn’t know.”
Ran-Del flushed red but pulled his traveling companion forward. “This is Francesca Hayden, Grandfather. Stefan Hayden, her father, put us out here and chained us together because he wants me to marry her.”
Isayah's expression grew even more quizzical. “They have very peculiar courting customs in the city.”
Thankfully, Francesca laughed instead of being insulted. “Not really. Pop isn’t what I’d call typical.”
“I greet you gladly, Francesca Hayden,” Isayah said formally.
Francesca bobbed her head in a sort of abortive bow. “Pleased to meet you, too. I don’t suppose you have a way to cut flexitron?”
Isayah inspected the cable and shook his head. “It looks very strong, but Father will be able to deal with it.”
Ran-Del gave vent to his frustration. “It’s very trying, Grandfather. Francesca can’t run for very long. It tires her even to walk all day.”
Isayah smiled. “Your great-grandfather must have known. He had me bring a lamel.”
Ran-Del glanced back at the end of the column. The last Sansoussy in the line, a young man named Kishor, lead the lamel by a loose halter around its long neck. The animal had a saddle pad, even though no one rode it.
“How could he know?” Ran-Del said.
Isayah grinned and shrugged. “The same way he knew you’d be here. He held a seeing the day after you disappeared. When he came out of it, he sent me here with twenty warriors. We left at dawn of the next day.”
Ran-Del was counting in his head. “So you got here in a little over three days?”
Isayah nodded. “He told me to make good time, but not to lose anyone—especially not myself.” He looked Ran-Del and Francesca up and down. “Have you any gear or did this man strand you with nothing but the clothes on your backs?”
Ran-Del explained about their pack.
Isayah sent a warrior to retrieve it, and then turned back to him. “We’d better get going, Ran-Del. I want to hear your story, but we can talk tonight, after we stop.”
Ran-Del caught his grandfather’s arm before Isayah could move away. “Pardon, Grandfather, but there’s something you should know. Stefan Hayden will likely make an attempt to reclaim us. He may well be waiting close by with a machine Francesca calls a flyter.”
Isayah glanced at Francesca. “Is this true, Francesca Hayden?”
“Yes,” she said. “And some of his weapons are very formidable.”
Isayah cocked his head as he debated, then shrugged. “We’ll be alert, but we’ll still move now. We’re no safer waiting than on the run.”
He reformed the column of Sansoussy warriors, calling out for Kishor to fetch the lamel. When the animal was brought to him, Isayah stood ready to help Francesca to mount it. The city dweller didn’t look enthusiastic. Ran-Del glanced from her to the lamel and tried not to smile.
Lamels had long straight necks, four thick, sturdy legs, shaggy, curly gray fur, and extremely ugly faces. This one's long, broad ears swiveled back and forth as if he were following their conversation, while his small, round, bright blue eyes stared at Francesca ominously. His broad back was a little lower than her shoulder, and his short stumpy tail twitched frantically.
“Did someone push its nose in with a stick?” Francesca said.
“They all look like that,” Ran-Del said. “Hop on.”
“I don
’t think it wants me to ride it anymore than I want to get on it,” she said, not moving any closer.
“He, not it,” Ran-Del said. “We’re going to be running, Francesca. There’s no other way you can keep up.”
Francesca looked from him to the lamel and back again. “What about the cable? What will you do if I’m on the back of this thing?”
“I can run alongside,”
Francesca took a deep breath and let it out. “All right,” she said resolutely, “let’s do it, then. How do I get on?”
Ran-Del stepped close, took Francesca around the waist, and tossed her onto the lamel’s back.
Isayah smiled but made no comment.
Francesca sat on the saddle pad and gripped the strap that held the pad firmly on the lamel’s back.
“Just hold on,” Ran-Del said, taking the rein. “I’ll lead him as I run.”
Francesca tightened her grip on the saddle strap and nodded.
They set off quickly. Isayah took the head of the column again, keeping Francesca and Ran-Del in the middle of the group.
Ran-Del ran easily, glad to be moving at a reasonable pace. He was on his way home.
The Sixth Discipline Page 21
