Jo Clayton Diadem 02 Lamarchos (v2.0)

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that her cooling brain refused to initiate.
If the boy stays alive, for our sake as well as his, I have to take the
curse off his head. It won t add that much time to the length of our stay
here& She kicked at the clodded sandy earth, toes sending up a spray of
coarse soil. Four days& five& not more. But we ll roll into Karkys sunk layer
on layer deep in the life of this world. The boy is bound to me body and
spirit until I release him. I guarantee he ll prove no danger to us.
Guarantee. The word reeked scorn but Maissa had herself firmly in hand. She
watched Aleytys from unblinking eyes, cold as death.
Yes. Aleytys tapped her temple so that the others staring fascinated at her
heard the chimes.
Maissa turned her head without moving her body and glanced at Kale from the
corner of her eye. Kale.
Yes.
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What she says.
Kale jerked his gaze away from the impudent grin on Loahn s narrow face.
Reluctantly he nodded. If we plan to continue, gikena s got to lift the
curse.
Maissa s eyes flickered over Stavver, rested on him a minute while her fists
closed and opened again, then faced Aleytys. Reluctantly she nodded. We need
you, woman. For the moment. Don t push your luck. And keep that brat out of my
sight. She whipped around and scowled at Kale and Stavver. What are you
standing around for, fools? Do you want to waste more time? She strode to her
caravan, pulled herself tiger-fast and smooth onto the driver s seat. Taking
the whip from its loops she sat caressing the smooth braided coils. Well?
As Aleytys walked to her caravan, she felt a sickness of the soul turn her
knees weak and set a darkness behind her eyes as images of the battered horses
Maissa had driven the first day on this world burned behind her eyelids. She
stopped by Kale and laid a hand on his arm. Let her alone, she murmured.
Kale looked startled.
The horses won t suffer too long and she ll wear the rage out. It won t be
pleasant, but& . She shrugged. When we stop for nooning, I ll heal them.
His dark eyes met hers a minute. Then he nodded.
Good. Let her lead off. Tell her to take the first turning to the north& . A
minute, Loahn.
He edged around the horse s head, curiosity vivid in his face.
First turn to the north?
He nodded. Clearing his throat, he said hesitantly. Then just follow the
main ruts. Lake Po s turn-off comes mid-morning the second day.
Good. You understand, Kale?
Flicking a two-fingered salute to mark his understanding, Kale padded to
Maissa, sliding over the ground like the hunting cat inked on his skin.
Maissa lashed the whip across the flanks of the off-side horse, startling a
pain-filled scream from the gelding. Her caravan rumbled past, swaying and
rocking precariously. With an angry nausea turning her mouth sour, Aleytys
swung up on the seat. Drive, will you, Keon? Loahn, you ll keep out of sight.
Ride inside or sit in the back door. As you please.
He grinned at her, some of his usual self-possession returning. Aleytys
frowned awfully at him. Move, imp. Even the dust cloud s disappearing.
Stavver chuckled and slapped the reins on the horses backs, starting them
forward at a brisk trot. With a shout of laughter that was an affirmation of
the soaring spirits in all three, Loahn raced around the caravan as it began
to pick up speed and swung himself up into the interior.
Aleytys leaned back, feeling a sudden lightness, her spirit floating like a
bubble. Miks, did you see her face. Ahhh& . She giggled and stretched,
wriggling on the hard plank of the seat.
He reached out and flipped a stray curl off her face. She never thought a
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barbarian land-grubber could handle her like that.
Well, she was right, wasn t she. She wrinkled her nose at her hands. I
wasn t the one working these.
Miks sobered. In a way it s too bad we couldn t keep that card stashed for
the future. Maissa s a snake, Lee. She knows now she can t take you from the
front. You watch your back.
I don t understand. She scratched at her knee with a forefinger, worrying
at a small flake of dead skin. You keep telling me how evil and cruel she is.
All right. So she mistreats animals. Loses her temper easy. Tried to kill
Loahn. None of that s very sweet and gentle, but she hasn t really done
anything to us.
She needs us now.
Mid morning, they swung off the main track onto a narrower lane, as deeply
rutted but not so bare. Spindly weeds, dry and dusty as little old men,
hunched between the whitish wheel tracks. The wind had turned and came to them
from the north instead of the west, lakeland s breath instead of the hot dry
effluence from the stonelands. As they moved north the air grew progressively
more humid, the tough, thin-bladed grass giving way to another species more
succulent than herb, until the land was covered by a crunchy green carpet a
double-handspan high. At intervals darker lines of green to the left or right
marked one of the hundred lakes that gave this section of Lamarchos its name.
Twice after they passed by branching tracks she caught glimpses of slender
crimson towers swelling at the top to tulip shaped bells that looked open to
the sky. She assumed that these marked towns or villages.
On either side of the road split rail fences, aged by time and weather to a
velvety grey, shut in pasture land, the serried sections enclosing brood mares
in one, then yearlings, then pihayo, mares again, stallions and geldings,
pihayo, repeating the pattern over and over. A vine with heart-shaped leaves
and trumpet flowers wound around the fence horizontals, cascades of leaves
plunging in a ragged green fall, while the nodding fist-sized blooms released
a flood of heavy sweet perfume. Hour on hour of vine. Hour on hour of
sickening sweet perfume mixed with air that grew heavier and heavier with
moisture so that the dust kicked up by the horses hooves and the iron-tired
wheels clung like itching powder to bare skin.
Occasionally a horse or two would come to the fence and watch them pass, wide
dark eyes bright with interest, quivering nostrils snuffing and snorting in
nervous excitement. Once something spooked a small herd of two-year-olds, all
sorrels with blazed faces, so that they wheeled, galloping off, tails high,
manes whipping the air. Aleytys exclaimed with pleasure then met Stavver s
laughing eyes, feeling a warm complicity in their shared enjoyment.
Several times they saw distant riders, but none near enough to show interest
in the travellers.
Just before nooning they moved past a field with a herd of grazing pihayo.
This time the odd-looking creatures were close enough to examine in some
detail. They were heavy animals with massive thighs and wide muscular bodies,
looking at first glance like dirty tan sheep grown outsize. Instead of a
sheep s close curled wool, their thick hair was straight, long and shaggy,
heavy with oil. Their sharp rancid stench was strong enough to break through
even the overpowering perfume of the trumpet flowers. Aleytys wrinkled her
nose, slightly sick at the thought of eating meat that smelled so bad on the
hoof.
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When the sun s glow spot crossed zenith in the circus-tent sky, they came on
Maissa s caravan pulled to one side in a lay-by, a circle of trees drooping
over weathered tables, benches and a flat-roofed structure held up by a series
of wide flat poles carved into stylized, simplified animal forms. Maissa sat [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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