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baby?"
Again Shangbari thought of wizardry, and his frown deepened. There was still
no dishonor, but could the warrior or the Little Man be drawing his thoughts
from his head? Finally he nodded again.
"I hoped so. And did your chief once call himself a friend to the Seekers of
Doimar, until a night when the Kaldakans came out of the sky to attack the
Seekers? On that night, did not a warrior of Kaldak spare your chief and his
wife and child, and tell them to flee because this was not their fight?"
Shangbari could barely breathe. Either his mind was being torn open by
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wizardry, or this warrior was nothing which any of the Tribes had any name
for. No one outside the Red Cats-and only a few of them-knew the whole tale of
the Night of the Seekers' Death. It was that Night which later brought the
Doimari sky-killers, and broke forever the peace between the Red Cats and
Doimar. Indeed, the men of
Doimar were now greater enemies than those of Kaldak, until the blood debt was
paid-if it ever was.
Could this man have knowledge which would help the Red Cats pay that debt?
Shangbari decided he should lead this man to Ikhnan. This was a chief's and
Grandfathers' matter, not one for even the finest hunter.
The man picked up Shangbari's rifle. "I want to go to your chief. I have
things to say he must hear, and soon. If you will swear the most sacred oath
you know, not to harm me or lead me astray, I will give you back your weapon.
Two guns are always better than one, and also two sets of eyes."
He spoke like an experienced warrior, and Shangbari saw no reason to doubt
that he was one. "By the spirits of my prey, the true shooting of my rifle,
and my faith in the hunter's oath, I swear to guard you as I
would my brother, until you have said all that you have to say to Ikhnan,
Chief of the Red Cats,"
Shangbari replied.
The Little Man jumped up and down, clapping his hands and going yeep-yeep-yeep
as though he understood and approved. With a City knife, the warrior cut
Shangbari's bonds, then pulled him to his feet with one hand and gave him his
rifle with the other.
"Do you wish more beer?" said Ikhnan.
Blade shook his head. He'd already drunk more than enough of the rough Tribal
beer while telling
Ikhnan his tale. "You have already done far more than the Laws for welcoming
guests demanded of you."
Ikhnan smiled grimly. "But not as much as you could have wished, or perhaps
expected?"
"You are a wise leader of your people," said Blade with a shrug. "You would be
wiser if you believed me more."
"That I doubt," said Ikhnan. "Though you say you did not join the sky-riders
of Kaldak of your own will, yet you came among us as one of them."
"I did. And I did little harm to your people, and much to the Doimari, who are
the enemies of everyone except themselves."
"That is so. But that only gives me a reason to let you return to Kaldak with
your tale. It does not give me reason to let the remaining warriors of the Red
Cats follow you into the jaws of the Seekers."
Blade was annoyed enough to think of several things it wouldn't be wise to say
out loud. Perhaps he should give up and accept Ikhnan's offer of a guide to
the Kaldakan border. That would save him a few days in getting back. Would
that be enough if it took him weeks to convince the Kaldakans they should act?
"Cadet Commander Voros" was probably under sentence of death for six or seven
different crimes.
He would even need some luck to escape being shot on sight.
Then he heard a familiar yeeeeping behind him, the scrabble of Cheeky's paws,
and the pad-pad-pad of some other animal about the same size. Ikhnan's eyes
opened wide and his mouth opened wider, as he looked past Blade. Blade turned
around, to see Cheeky walking into the tent with one of the sacred Red
Cats following respectfully behind him. They sat down, Cheeky scratched the
Red Cat behind its ears, and the beast started to purr!
Blade reached out a hand to pet the cat-and got bloody claw marks on his wrist
for his pains. Then
Cheeky yeeeeped angrily, jumped up and down, and pulled the Red Cat's tail
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hard. It laid its ears back, and for a moment Blade thought he would have to
rescue Cheeky. The Red Cats had ferocious tempers, and this one was nearly as
big as Cheeky.
The Red Cat and Cheeky glared at each other for a moment. Then slowly the Red
Cat relaxed. A
moment later it went over to Blade and licked the blood off his wrist, purring
like a small outboard motor.
Then, while Ikhnan looked as if his eyes were going to fall out of their
sockets, the Red Cat climbed onto
Blade's lap, curled its tail around itself, and went to sleep. Cheeky gave a
small yeeep of satisfaction and hopped up onto Blade's shoulder.
With a heroic effort at self-control, Ikhnan spoke. "Is that Fija?"
Blade grinned. "How should I know? Ask Cheeky."
Ikhnan swallowed. "You said that as if-he might answer-like a man. Is he-?"
"He is not one of the Little Men of the tales I have heard here in the Land,"
said Blade. "That I can swear. As to what else he is-much I do not know
myself, and most of the rest is not my secret but his."
Ikhnan swallowed again. "I am sorry to seem-less than a warrior-before you.
But-"
Blade waved away the apologies. "I myself have soiled my breeches, facing what
I did not understand.
Suppose you tell me what makes you uneasy. Then I will know what questions of
yours I can answer."
Ikhnan nodded. "It is simply that Fija is the most evil-tempered of all the
Red Cats. It is as if he wanted to feed on human flesh all the year around. No
other man has been able to touch Fija without being clawed or sometimes
bitten. As for his being a friend of any other living creature-I am not yet
sure that what I saw was really what happened."
"I didn't know that about Fija. But Cheeky-well, he's a friendly little chap.
He probably convinced Fija that he was no rival for food or females. Then it
wasn't hard to persuade him that any friend of Cheeky's also ought to be a
friend of Fija's."
"You said that as if you believed it .... No, I am sorry. Forgive me for
seeming to doubt your word, as I
have doubted my own eyes." Ikhnan smiled thinly. "Still, I will not trust
the-Cheeky's powers enough to pet Fija myself, even if I do become your
friend."
Ikhnan looked embarrassed. "Cheeky's friendship with Fija is a sign that I
must do more than I would before. Yet-I still cannot simply arm my warriors
and send them against Doimar at your word." He straightened up. "Voros. If you
were among the sky-riders of Kaldak, you must have had friends there.
Perhaps even friends among their chiefs?"
"Yes. Have you heard of a Monitor Bekror?"
Ikhnan jumped. "His land begins not more than four days from where we sit.
But-he is one of the mightiest enemies the Tribes have. No friendship for you
would-"
"That remains to be seen. He is no friend to the Tribes, but he is a friend to
me. He is also an enemy of my enemies in Kaldak. To spite them, he might even
be willing to aid Tribesmen who were not going to fight him. Do you think I
can ask you not to use any aid you get from Bekror against anyone except
Doimar? I have told you several times that Doimar is now a greater enemy to
the Tribes than Kaldak has ever dreamed of being!"
"And I believe you. Now. But what I believe does not matter. Without some help
from someone, the
Red Cats cannot do as you wish. We had five hundred warriors. Now we have less
than two hundred, and fewer than that with weapons fit to use against Doimar.
If I send half my warriors with you and they do not return, the Red Cats will
be too weak to stand against anyone. It would not matter who slew them. The
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Tribe would die, to the last infant."
Blade was silent. Ikhnan was a proud warrior confessing weakness, and could do
without pointless remarks for a while. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]