Lamarchos Page 22

  She touched Sharl briefly, inspected the padding that held him tightly. The ride out would be rough. She plucked at the quilting. No time to get him in a sling. This would have to do. She pushed the drawer nearly shut.

  The blue steel blade of the knife shimmered like silk on the coarse ticking of the mattress. She threaded a piece of rope through a loop in the top of the sheath, then shoved the knife home. After tying the ends together in a neat square knot she slipped the loop over her head and one shoulder so that the knife hung beside her hip. Before leaving the caravan she tapped her temple, smiling at the sound of the chime. “Be ready, Rider. When it starts we’ll have to be fast.” A second chime answered her and sent her laughing out the back.

  She glanced around. A few sleeping figures slumped around the caravan, very few of them to the east. Before starting for the master’s wagon she stared out at the rippling rise of land. “See you, Miks. Soon.”

  The hard-gaited roan stamped impatiently. Aleytys eyed him with distaste. “Boneshaker old friend.” She sighed, pulled the reins loose and swung up on his back. She settled herself in the saddle and swung the animal around, keeping him at a slow walk as she circled toward the master’s wagon. The big horse picked his way delicately through the carelessly tumbled figures who lay sunk in a sleep so deep it verged on coma. They had to circle wide to avoid places where the sleepers lay packed so closely the horse would refuse to go on.

  When they reached the wagon she slid off his back and tied the reins in a half-hitch in a ring dangling among others beneath the back edge of the wagon. “All right, Rider,” she murmured. “Now’s the time to do your trick.”

  The diadem chimed. As the several notes ran downscale to a basso growl she felt the influence again spread through her body. She swung onto the wagon and pushed recklessly through the circle of guards knocking them down like slow motion pins. Her body plunged into the tent.

  The master sat with his head resting on his hands, elbows on knees, the boy sitting in front of him echoing his posture. The shaman stood bent over beside the boy staring intently into his face.

  Black eyes glinted, narrowed and thoughtful, in Aleytys’ mind. It seemed to her they smiled briefly at her … somehow … then turned back to measure what must be done. Then her body leaped forward.

  The knife was in her hand. Her free hand grabbed a handful of springy white curls, hauled the master’s head up. The knife slashed once, twice through the neck. Then a third time. Then the boy. His throat was thinner. Much thinner. Her hand lowered the head onto the floor between thin legs. Finally the shaman. He started to topple as her hand jerked his head up. The knife slashed twice and the body fell, cut loose from the head. Her hand loosed its grip on the head, then her body wheeled and ran from the tent, through the still falling guards, trampling on flesh and wood indiscriminately. Her body leaped from the wagon onto the, horse, snatched the reins loose, and sent the roan back through the sleepers.

  Aleytys felt a strain behind her eyes that grew and grew. Breath sobbing into her body in great gasps, she kicked her heels into the roan’s sides, driving him across the cold bodies, slipping, sliding, struggling to keep his feet as he rushed headlong toward the caravan.

  A moan whispered across her brain. The low rumble celerated upward and the tightness went away. She shook her head, dashing away the fragments of possession from her brain. Around her the horde creatures were stumbling to their feet, a dazed uncertainty in their faces. Muttering incoherently they took a few steps in one direction, then turned another way, bumping into each other to stand motionless the moment they were in physical contact, then twitching away again in a frenetic outburst of movement.

  Aleytys forced the roan through them across the half-kilometer between the master’s wagon and her caravan. Fumbling hands clutched at her legs, then moved away, clutched at the bridle only to forget what they were doing, clutched at the horse until the roan’s speed threw most of them off. She kicked the others away.

  At the caravan she leaped recklessly for the driver’s bench, snatched at the reins as she tumbled past them. “Hi-ya!” she shrieked, slapping the reins hard against the horses’ rumps, startling them into a run.

  Aleytys nearly fell off before she managed to seat herself. She screamed again at the team. The caravan leaped, bounded, threatened to overturn, teetering precariously as it rumbled over confused horde beings. Somehow it stayed upright. The roan ran free behind the caravan, head held high and to one side to keep the dangling reins from under his feet.

  They raced across the bumpy flat outside the city and rolled onto a winding rutted road that led vaguely eastward. Aleytys let the team settle to a rapid trot and managed to look behind.

  There was no pursuit. She couldn’t even see the town anymore. It was down behind a fold of earth. There were no sounds—nothing—except the harsh grinding of the wheels and the rattle of the hooves. She saw the roan stumble then snort, lifting his head high, one of the reins snapped in half.

  “Ahai, Madar!” She pulled back on the reins, kicked in the brake. “He’ll break his neck.” The roan pranced up beside her. “Haiyi, boneshaker, I’m a fool.” She slid down from the seat. “If Loahn wants you back, he can go look for you.” She rubbed his nose gently, then scratched behind his ears as he whuffed his pleasure. Then she stripped off the saddle and bridle, throwing them beside the road. She used the blanket to rub him down, then slapped him on the rump. “On your way, boneshaker.”

  She climbed back into the caravan. Sharl was whimpering his fright. The two quilts padded around him had kept him safe but he was terrified by the rough ride. And uncomfortable. She picked him up and held him against her. “It’s all right, baby,” she whispered. “It’s all right.” She laid him on the bunk and changed him. As he lay waving his arms about for sheer joy in being able to move them, she knotted a batik into a sling and laid him in it so he could feel her next to him constantly and be reassured. Then she bent over Maissa.

  The woman was unconscious, a dark bruise on her temple. She lay folded against the wall, held to the bunk by the tethering ropes. Aleytys cut them off, then worked the gag out of her mouth, grimacing at the dark scummy stains on the knife blade. She wiped the knife against Maissa’s batik, rubbing hard to get rid of that blood. Then she shoved it back in the sheath that dangled on the hip across from Sharl.

  Reaching for the power, she plunged into it, let it flow over the mangled wrists and ankles where the ties had been, healing the tears and bruises. She used the heel of her hand to force Maissa’s mouth open, touched the swollen bloody tongue, bitten through in several places.

  When the healing was finished she let the power puddle momentarily in her hands, ignoring the cold feeling of danger that trembled through her. Maissa’s eyes were open, staring at her. They saw nothing, acknowledged nothing. Aleytys shuddered. She bent over Maissa, touched her fingers to the small woman’s temples, letting the pooled power flow forth. “Sleep,” she whispered. “Sleep, little Captain. Let it all be a dream when you wake. It’s over. No more hassle, no more master. Forget, forget, forget.…”

  She pulled her hands away, breaking with the power. The small thin body was relaxed, breasts rising and falling in a slow steady rhythm. Her face was peaceful, the dark shadows in her soul sleeping with the rest of her. Aleytys felt the relaxation in her and was satisfied.

  Back on the driver’s bench, she uncleated the reins and reached out, searching for the mint green flow of Stavver’s presence. She found it easily. Ahead. Above. She toed the brake loose and clucked the team into a steady walk. The roan whinnied softly and ran ahead of the team. Aleytys laughed, feeling marvelously lighthearted.

  “All right, boneshaker, we’ll go together.”

  Chapter XII

  “You all right?” Stavver let go of her and stepped back, running worried eyes over her, frowning because the moon had set and only the stars lit the rocky slope.

  “Good enough, but glad to see you, Miks.”

  “They
hurt you?”

  “A little. I’m more disgusted than hurt, though.” She shuddered and moved close to him, holding out her arms. “All that killing.”

  “It’s over, Lee.” He gentled her against his chest.

  “For me. For you.” She felt his heart beating strongly under her ear.

  He stirred and moved apart from her. “Maissa?”

  “In the caravan. Sleeping.”

  “She sane?”

  “I don’t know. I tried to make her forget. I don’t know if I succeeded.”

  “It was bad?” He shifted suddenly, his feet making a scraping sound on the rocky ground. “She was raped?”

  “Yes.” Aleytys searched his face. “You didn’t ask about me. No.” She held up a hand as he moved toward her. “Don’t bother. Yes. The master had me. Phahhh! I won’t be clean again till I soak a month in a hot bath. No one’s ever treated me like … have you ever used a woman, Miks. Used. That’s the right word. Have you ever used a woman when you didn’t give a damn about what she felt or didn’t feel, when you didn’t want her to be a person only a convenience, when you would have resented her making you understand she was a human being with rights of her own, when you didn’t want to know her in any way but one?”

  He laughed dryly, his shadowed face taking on an indifferent cruelty that jarred once more on her feeling for him. “It happens.”

  “Well, thank the Madar, it’s never happened to me before, and, if I have the least thing to say about it, it never will happen again.”

  “So you didn’t enjoy the copulation. That surprises me.”

  “Don’t talk to me that way.” She stiffened, suddenly furious. “If you must let jealousy rule your tongue, Miks, save it for when it’s justified.”

  “Jealousy! You flatter yourself.”

  “You …” Suddenly unable to go on, Aleytys ran up the back steps of the caravan. “I’m tired. Take care of the horses.” Ignoring his angry exclamation, she pushed through the curtains and dumped herself on one of the bunks. “Hunh!” She brought her fist down hard on the mattress. “Bastard.”

  Sharl stirred in the sling and yelled his hunger. The anger drained out of her. She lifted him to her breast and sat dreamy-eyed while he fed. When he was finished she made a nest for him in a drawer and tucked a blanket around him. Then she stretched out on the bunk, feeling warm, weary, aware of the noises around her but not really listening to them.

  When Stavver came into the caravan, she was nearly asleep. She felt him bending over her.

  “Lee, I’m a fool.”

  She blinked heavy eyes, smiled drowsily. “You are, aren’t you.”

  “I didn’t want to admit anyone had this much hold on me.”

  “I know.”

  “Was it really bad?”

  “Mmmm.” She fought against coming awake. “I don’t want to remember.…”

  “Lee.…” His hands touched her face lightly, moved down, cupped over her breasts. “Are you too tired? We could make a good memory.”

  Aleytys felt warmth surging through her. She caught his hands and brought them to her lips. “I’m not too tired.”

  Chapter XIII

  Stavver was shovelling dirt over the campfire. Aleytys came out of the caravan with a pail of murky water and damp diapers hanging over her arm. She dumped the diapers over the back of the seat and flung the water away in a soapy arc that splashed noisily against the pile of boulders nestling like a clutch of stony eggs against the steep slant of the hillside. Dropping the pail she smiled at Stavver. “Maker of magic memories.”

  He grinned at her. “Bring the horses in, witch.”

  “Let me hang out my wash first.”

  “How much longer does that go on?”

  “Forever!” She chuckled. “You don’t know much about babies.”

  “Only how to make them. I never hung around longer before.”

  “Poor. Miks. Another year at least.”

  “Good god.”

  The sound of hooves pounding at speed along the road cut through the peace of the morning. Stavver came leaping onto the driver’s seat then onto the caravan top. He teetered there a minute then straightened and stared downtrail.

  “What is it?”

  “Who, you mean.” He swung down. “Your boyfriend.”

  “Idiot!” She poked her elbow in his side. “I suppose you mean Loahn.” She sighed with exaggerated weariness.

  “You got it.” He slid off the seat and strolled toward the road where it curved past their campsite. Aleytys sat kicking her heels against the box.

  Loahn brought his mount to a sliding stop, a grin almost splitting his face in half. He jumped down and bounded exuberantly to her, dropped to his knees and banged his head against the dirt in front of her dangling feet.

  She slid down beside him. Catching hold of a tuft of hair she pulled it sharply. “Get up, you clown.”

  Loahn came up onto his feet grinning at her. He shuffled a little dance, too full of nervous energy to stand still. “Lahela gikena, worker of miracles, turner of the horde. Hi-yi, you did it. I didn’t think you could. But you did. Only two cities!”

  “Two cities,” Aleytys repeated grimly. She turned away. “If I hadn’t wasted so much time.…”

  “No, no, Lahela.” Loahn caught her in his arms and danced an impromptu triumph around Stavver’s silent figure. He spun her away from him so that she stumbled into Stavver. Then he fidgeted in front of her, grinning, eyes beaming. “Only two cities, Lahela. Last time we lost twenty and half the people dead.”

  “Calm down, Loahn.” She climbed back onto the seat. “I know what I did. What happened after I left?”

  “Well … mmmmm … what with this and that, I managed to collect a lot of men willing to follow my lead.”

  “This and that?”

  “Didn’t hurt having your shadow wrapped round my shoulders.”

  “And?”

  “Kekio brought your message to us. We were waiting to attack. So we waited a little longer. Saw you take off like someone set your tail on fire. We went down then, not knowing what to expect. They were like new-born babes, Lahela. We went through them. Through and through. Their minds were gone. Except for a few with funny silver helmets on. We stopped trying to fight them then and just gave them merciful death. Who could hate such lost things? And who could let them go on the way they were? The death pyres will burn long around wahi-Usk.”

  “Dead.”

  Loahn hooked his thumbs behind his belt and shifted from foot to foot. “Most of the adults.” He turned his back on her and stared downtrail. “It’s not finished yet. So many of them. But …” he brightened. “The children are coming out of the daze. We’ll divide them among the families that lost men. They’ll grow up lakelanders.”

  Aleytys frowned. “If they’ve lost kin, won’t they … mistreat the children?” She stared down at her hands. “I know what it’s like being a cuckoo in the nest.”

  Loahn looked shocked. “No. No, Lahela. Never. These little ones are gift of Lakoe-heai. One does not mistreat a blessing.”

  Aleytys tapped her fingers on her knees. “Listen.”

  Loahn sank back until he was sitting on his heels. “What Lahela?”

  “You should know what I learned about the horde.”

  “The horde is finished.”

  “Is there only one horde?”

  Loahn looked startled. “I don’t know.”

  “Then listen. The reason the horde moves out of the south is this—the horde master is dying. Somehow a traverse of the lakelands and the resulting orgy of death forces the peculiar physical and mental development that results in a master.”

  His bright lively eyes were locked on her face. “Weird.”

  “Understatement. Have you ever tried watching them for a pattern of action?”

  Loahn scratched at the earth with a finger. “Not that I know of. It’s all so irrational. Another thing. It’s dangerous going near them, especially when the drums beat.”
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  “Right. They’ve got courage, these young raiders who dash past shooting into the horde.”

  “They don’t hang around long or come too close.”

  Aleytys swung her legs, kicking her heels against the side of the caravan. “Still … never mind. When the drums stop, they fall in their tracks deep, deep asleep. The roan stepped on one and he didn’t even stop snoring. Except for a ring of guards on the master’s wagon. The ones with the helmets. What happened to those helmets?”

  “I don’t know. They’re around somewhere.”

  “Better collect them. Carefully. They’re more valuable than just about anything else you can have. At least when the horde comes. The drum rite is held before entering the lakelands and after that as soon as sun goes down on a plundered city.” She frowned over his head, staring blankly at the far horizon. “It always begins as soon as the sun is gone and ends … when it ends. The sleep lasts for several hours. Then they pick themselves up and move on. As far as I saw they never bothered to eat.”

  “So?”

  “So this. After the drums stop, if a small raiding party …” she slapped a hand on her thigh for emphasis, “Wearing those silver helmets, slipped among the sleepers and jumped the guards, they’d have a good chance of getting at the master and stopping the whole thing. Like I did. You’d have to lose one city.”

  “One city. Ah! Wonder worker.”

  “Idiot.” She rubbed at her knees. “I only serve Lakoe-heai. You don’t owe me anything.”

  He flung out his hands, his mobile face animated. “Lakoe-heai. Ha! Our songsmiths shall sing of Lahela gikena and her gift to the people. Our children and their children and their children as long as tongue lives in mouth.” He caught her hand and held it against his face.

  “Loahn, you awe me with your capacity for nonsense! Talking of tongues, I think you open the floodgates and let the words flow like water downhill.”

  “Looks like I’m fated to be a famous leader then.”

  “If hot air qualifies one to be a leader.”

  “Have you ever seen one without a large supply?”