Seeing Diut take such care, Alanna relaxed slightly. She felt more confident now that she had done the right thing in urging this meeting.
They sat at the dining table, and Diut stared at the bowl of meklah fruit that Alanna had forgotten to remove. He had glanced briefly at Jules, then at Alanna. Neither glance was significant. It simply acknowledged their presence. Jules spoke to him in Garkohn to Alanna’s surprise. She realized that Jules must have learned the language during her absence. During that same period, she had taught Diut English, but there was no need for Jules to know that.
“My daughter has told me a little about you, Tehkohn Hao,” Jules said. “Not much. But enough with what I’ve just seen, to make me wonder why you’re here. What do you want?”
Diut raised his large head and gave Jules his attention. This was disconcerting in spite of the shadows he cast about himself. Diut was the only Kohn Alanna had seen who managed, in spite of the humanoid arrangement of his features, to seem frighteningly alien. No Missionary would see him as simply a caricature of the Sacred Image. Alanna saw Jules jump, saw him sit up straighter in his chair. But he continued to look at Diut.
“Perhaps only to find out whether you would be able to ask that question,” Diut said. His voice had depth without hollowness or harshness. It was clear, but somehow, not pleasing, not human. Like his appearance, it took getting used to. “To see whether the Garkohn would let you,” he continued, “and whether you would bother.”
It was an admission! Alanna stared down at the table, her expression carefully neutral. Just as she had guessed, Diut had come to see whether the Missionaries were worth the trouble it would cost him to let them live.
“I bothered,” said Jules, “because I want the hostilities between your people and mine to end now before there is more killing. As for the Garkohn, their authority is over their own people. They don’t give orders here at the Mission settlement.”
“So?” Diut watched Jules silently for a moment. “Do we not discuss matters too important to be obscured by ritual lying, Missionary?”
Jules looked startled. Then he leaned back and sighed. He seemed resigned rather than offended. “You’ve come to understand our situation here very quickly.”
“I’m still learning. Just before you sent for me, for instance, I learned that you rather than Natahk planned the raid in which I was captured.”
Pride burned for a moment in Jules’s eyes. “My people were going to be involved. I had none that I could afford to lose.”
“Neither had I,” said Diut. “Yet from your point of view, it was a highly successful raid.”
“As was yours two years ago. I hope, Tehkohn Hao, that we can make this the last such hostility between our peoples.”
“Peace, Verrick?” Diut reached out and took a meklah fruit from the bowl. He held it before him—between them. “And what of the Garkohn? What if we two sit here and decide not to fight each other again? How would you stop Natahk when he next decides to use your people?” As he spoke, he replaced the fruit in its bowl. During the instant that the bowl completely hid his hand from Jules, that hand was the same brown as Alanna’s own skin. Alanna understood the sign, realized that he knew of her readdiction. And did he condemn her, she wondered. She found herself examining his coloring for any trace of yellow disapproval. She found none. Perhaps he felt none. But he could hide his feelings when he wanted to.
Oblivious to the exchange, Jules answered Diut’s question. “Things are bad, Tehkohn Hao, but not as bad as that. We were not simply used by Natahk. We helped him willingly. I had been losing people steadily for two years and I was convinced that you were responsible.”
“And do you know now that I was not?”
Jules glanced at Alanna. “My daughter has told me that you were not. I believe that she reports the truth as she has been allowed to see it. But I find it hard to believe that she has not been deceived in some way.”
Diut said nothing for several seconds. Jules sat glaring at him, waiting impatiently for his defense. Finally, Diut spoke. “Do you understand the way we group ourselves, Verrick—our clans?”
“Clans? Yes, I understand, but what have they to do with—”
“Farmer, artisan, hunter, judge, and Hao. Five. The Garkohn are only three.”
“Yes?” Jules was frowning.
“The Garkohn Hao died years ago—I hope from the wounds given to him by my people. The Garkohn have twice as many people as the Tehkohn, but they have never had as much of the blue. The Garkohn Hao had been childless, and the Garkohn judges did not produce another Hao child. As it often happens when people have no Hao to unite them, the Garkohn fought among themselves. The hunters rebelled against the judges’ rule and killed the judges. Now the hunters rule themselves—badly. They had almost ceased to be a threat to us until Natahk gained power, and until your people arrived, Verrick.”
“But we haven’t helped the Garkohn until now,” protested Jules.
“You’ve helped them. Their artisans are even relearning the shaping of metal because of you.”
“But we haven’t shown them!”
Diut only looked at him.
After a while, Jules nodded. “I see. I knew they watched us, though I didn’t think that was the reason—or one of the reasons.”
“You help them in another way also.”
“How?”
“Your people know many things. Things that the ancestors of the Garkohn knew—things that the Tehkohn still know. And yet you are crippled. You cannot conceal yourselves. You cannot see what is in front of you. You fight badly…”
“We fought well enough against you to win!”
“You fought hardly at all, Verrick, and you know it.”
Jules glared at him angrily, but to Alanna’s surprise, he did not deny the charge.
“Natahk gave you information and you shaped it into a plan. Your part in that plan was to make noise, kill a few unwary farmers, and lure my fighters down from the upper levels of the dwelling to the floor of our valley where they could be killed more easily. You made your noise, and it was new and terrifying to my people. But when my fighters arrived, you had to be protected by Garkohn hunters.”
Jules was quietly furious. “We let them protect us so that we wouldn’t shoot them by accident, mistaking them for Tehkohn. Your people were not hurt nearly as badly as we could have hurt them—as we might still have to hurt them.”
“Threats, Verrick? Even as we talk of peace?”
With an effort, Jules controlled himself. “You are here to talk peace. Why do you talk of fighting instead?”
“Because you must understand what you are—why you are of value to Natahk. You can think, but you cannot fight. You are judges to whom hunters need not be subject. There are few traditions to protect you because you have no blue.”
“We are human beings! We…”
“You are Garkohn now in Natahk’s eyes. Your people were stolen to make you Garkohn. Look for them at the Garkohn farming town where they form the tie that joins you to Natahk.”
Slowly, Jules’s expression changed from indignation to comprehension. “Do you mean they’re hostages? Does Natahk intend to use them to force us to obey him?”
“That would be unnecessary. You obey him now. The tie is custom. Two peoples are not truly united without it. You might find it distasteful custom though.” He gestured toward Alanna. “This one has told me of your beliefs.”
“What are you saying?” demanded Jules.
“That Garkohn-Missionary children exist now. That more will be born.”
There. It was out. Alanna waited for Jules’s reaction. It came, explosively, a shouted jumble. Alanna recognized some of the milder arguments. That it was not possible. That the differences between Kohn and human were too great… They were the same arguments that she had repeated to herself when she realized she was carrying Diut’s child.
She was glad she had been open with Diut, had told him just how strong the Missionary prejudice
was. Now he was hearing it again much more vehemently from Jules. He was hearing that he was an animal, and he seemed more amused than angry. His coloring whitened slightly. Then he seemed to become bored with the tirade. He stood up and looked around the cabin. Near the fireplace, Jules’s ax leaned against the wall. Diut walked to it, picked it up, and examined its double-edged steel head.
Jules had fallen silent the moment Diut left his chair. Now he watched warily as Diut handled the ax. He probably knew that Diut needed no weapon to kill him. Most Kohn fighting was weaponless, in fact. Fighters leaped on each other from camouflage. Weapons made their camouflage less effective. Nevertheless, the sight of the Tehkohn Hao armed with an ax was undoubtedly terrifying. Alanna watched Jules, hoping that he would not give way to his fear.
And Jules watched Diut until Diut put the ax back in its place. Jules did not sigh with relief then, but his hands did loosen their convulsive grip on the table. Diut returned to his seat.
“Your artisans know their craft,” he said quietly. “There are things you could teach even us about the working of metal.” It was the first overture of anything resembling friendliness that he had made, but Jules was in no frame of mind to notice it.
“I can’t believe the kind of crossbreeding you’re talking about is possible,” said Jules. “I must have proof.”
“Ask Natahk for it. Perhaps he will give it to you now while he is still drank with his victory. What will you do if he does?”
Jules looked stubborn, said nothing.
“Or perhaps it would be better if you did not ask him. He has shown surprising gentleness in his handling of you so far. As long as you obey him, you are left alone to live as you wish. He does not have to waste large numbers of his hunters controlling you and you have at least the illusion of freedom. You might be more comfortable holding on to that illusion.”
Jules could not have missed the scorn in his voice. It seemed to bring back his reason. He spoke quietly. “Is it beyond your understanding, Tehkohn Hao, that I have borne this humiliation to keep my people alive?”
“And are you ready now to watch them die?”
“I would rather watch them die than see them stripped of their humanity.”
“So? And what of those who have already been…stripped?”
“No true Missionary could ever submit to such a—”
“I am weary of your raving, Verrick!” He paused as though daring Jules to speak. When Jules did not, he went on. “I will explain what I should not have to explain. Your people are all meklah slaves. When they hunger enough, when their pain is great enough, there is no price they will no; pay for the meklah poison. Do you understand me?”
There were several seconds of silence. Then Jules answered softly. “Yes.”
“And do you accept what I say as truth?”
There was another long silence. Alanna watched Jules, hoping that he would give an honest answer even if that answer was “no.” A “no” would disgust Diut, but he had reason to be patient. He would try again. But if Jules said “yes,” and lied, it would take Diut no time at all to realize that he was lying—again. At that point, Diut might give up on (he Missionaries altogether. Jules answered finally, his voice flat, dead.
“Yes. I believe you.”
“Then there will be no more talk of animals.” There was an edge to Diut’s voice. Apparently, he had not been as completely tolerant of Jules’s insults as he had seemed.
Jules nodded dumbly.
Now Alanna spoke up, asked the question Jules seemed too beaten to ask. “Is there a way out of this for the Missionaries, Tehkohn Hao?”
Diut glanced at her, then turned back to Jules. “Is that what you want, Verrick? A way out?”
“If one exists…”
“There might be one. But you must convince me first that it is truly what you want—that you would be willing to abandon the Garkohn if I opened a way. And you should know exactly what you run from.”
“From the Garkohn…”
“Wait. You should know that Natahk has probably already taken as many of your people as he needs for the tie. The union of tribes can be mostly ceremonial. They need not live together nor continue to intermarry. In your case, the Garkohn would probably not want much intermarriage. Your physical differences would be more a hindrance than a help to their way of life. Natahk will continue to let you live as you wish as long as you obey the few commands he gives.”
“Could you ask your people to live under such conditions, Tehkohn Hao?”
Diut flashed negative yellow. “But I have both personal and tribal reasons for hating the Garkohn,” he said. “We are old enemies. You are their ally. You would benefit as much from their protection as they would from your knowledge.”
“You said my daughter had told you of our beliefs,” said Jules. “If you understood her, you must realize that there is no way that I could ask my people to consider themselves subjects of Natahk.”
“Have not your own beliefs changed as we have talked?”
“Not enough to make me willing to become Garkohn.” He looked hard at Diut. “You may not understand me, Tehkohn Hao, but my people gave up their homework! for their beliefs. If now they had to give up those beliefs as well, they would have nothing left. They would be destroyed.”
Diut flashed white approval. “That is what I thought you might say. But I had to hear it. I had to see that you were not already too much absorbed into the Garkohn to have the will to save yourselves.” He leaned back in his chair and relaxed. His coloring returned to its normal blue without concealing shadows. Jules stared into the blue as though seeing Diut for the first time. Diut’s shadows lulled people as they were intended to. Even his quick conversational color changes did not disturb the relaxed mood the shadows encouraged. He wove a spell of normalcy, and then shattered that spell simply by relaxing and permitting his body to emphasize his lack of normalcy. Diut spoke quietly.
“I don’t envy you your work, Verrick. I hope you know your people. I hope their beliefs are as strong as you say they are. Because there is a price on the freedom you want.”
“What price?”
“The only way for your people to escape Natahk is to do what he would not risk doing for any long period. They must leave the valley.”
Jules nodded. “That’s exactly what I want them to do. We would already have done it if we had thought we had any chance of escaping Natahk.”
“Natahk will let you go as soon as he is busy enough with other matters. He is not your problem. Your problem is the meklah.”
“But…surely there are other places where the meklah grows.”
“So. It grows beyond the eastern mountains in the jungle. With it there are savage animals, diseases, and people far more deadly than the Garkohn. You would be better here. You would be better dead.”
“Nowhere else?”
Diut laid his hands flat on the table. “Not enough. To the south, beyond the Garkohn farming town and beyond the mountains, there is water. A lake as wide and twice as long as this valley. To the west, beyond our mountains, there is a desert and the sea. I have been to that country myself and seen that even the people who live there have difficulty surviving. The only direction open to you is north. Once you cross the mountains, the land is as flat as this valley, but it is higher. Meklah trees grow only sparsely there. They keep low to the ground and bear little fruit.”
“But we can use the leaves,” said Jules, “and the new roots.”
“You can. But to put yourselves beyond the reach of the Garkohn, you must go as far north as you can before you settle. The farther north you go, the less meklah there is. The country is good. There is game and other safer edible plants, and perhaps your own crops will grow. Only the meklah is missing.”
“And without it, we’ll die. I don’t think we can afford to go as far north as you believe we should, Tehkohn Hao.”
“Your daughter lived for two years without the meklah.”
“While how many o
thers of my people died?”
“All those that the Garkohn could influence.”
“What?”
Diut turned toward Alanna. “Tell him.”
Alanna had deliberately said almost nothing. Knowing, as she did, that Diut would not hurt Jules, she had kept safely silent. She had depended on Jules’s reasonableness to win him over when he understood the threat. But now Diut wanted her co-operation and she had to give it—however carefully. She spoke to Jules in her unpracticed Garkohn so that Jules would expect Diut to understand her.
“The Garkohn prepared us all to die,” she said bitterly. “When we arrived at the Tehkohn dwelling two years ago, we were all, Garkohn and Missionary, shut in one large room together without meklah. We were given food and water, and we were left alone. At once, the least blue of the Garkohn asked to die. We Missionaries were told that it was their right to demand a quick, relatively painless death at the hands of those bluer than themselves.
“We watched while they were killed, their necks broken. Then the surviving Garkohn told us how we were to die—what being deprived of the meklah would do to us. After watching so many Garkohn die voluntarily, we believed them. At least, we believed that was how they were going to die. We hoped we were different enough physically to survive. As it happened, though, two of us were the first to go into convulsions. Those two got worse and more of us sickened. In a matter of hours, everybody but me was certain that the Garkohn were right. They all sat around waiting to die. Eventually, they died.”
“And you lived,” said Jules. “Why?”
“I think…because I wanted to.” She had known it would sound foolish. Abruptly, she switched to English. “The others were ready to die, Jules. They were convinced that they were in the hands of animals who would murder them. They were completely cut off from the settlement, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to find their way back to it without Garkohn help. And the Garkohn were lying around waiting to die.”
Survivor Page 8
