02. Riders of the Winds (9 page)

Halomar nodded. "I agree, particularly in light of the children. Even in the best of circumstances those children would have no future with her, a fact even she tacitly acknowledges. But those children are torn up inside, as you well know, and have no anchor in family or in law. At best they would wind up of necessity being slipped some potion and working as whores to support Susama, whose background is in that seamier side of life anyway. Their hurt and prejudices are deep. I do not think Directors were wrong in fearing that eventually they might suicide without support and a stable family life. As for Susama's curse, I said that exercise will control it and she is surprisingly healthy as she is."

"Yes, that is why I thought immediately of a field worker. It is good exercise and is something constructive she can do. Avala knows enough to make certain she gets the potions that will ease the strain and aid the transition to real work."

"And precondition her as well. I believe we would be criminals if we let those children go off with her, but unless we also take in Susama it would be very difficult to do."

"Yes, I thought the same."

"If she were to have her memories and personality permanently erased and a newer, simpler one built," Halomar suggested, "she would fit in perfectly as a permanent field worker—planting, picking, and the like—and get heavy daily exercise to boot. With the aid of some careful guidance and hypnotics or spells she could almost certainly be reoriented sufficiently to be happy in a heterosexual relationship. Of course, we've already agreed that erasure is the only hope of saving those children."

The alchemist sighed. "Exactly my thinking. We have done it so many times before with poor unfortunates that it would not be at all difficult to handle gently and unobtrusively, but we would have an embarrassing, even awkward, situation if then her mate walks in. In that instance, it could be quite—
difficult—
for
the Duke."

"We could cover," responded the magician, "but it is best to play it a bit cautiously. It is five days until the next caravan— Crim's, I believe, which is a good choice, since Crim won't care or ask questions one way or the other. If neither or both of the missing pair are located within that time it's safe to assume that they never will be. You and I both know this country, and the additional time will give us an opportunity to test her in this role without committing anyone. Of course, the final decision is His Grace's, but I will recommend treatment on the morning five days from today if the conditioning tests are satisfactory and nothing else develops."

"Five days seems more than safe," Gira agreed. "I'll write it up for the Directors and His Grace today."

3

Of Brigands, Scoundrels, and Slaves

Boday stepped and suddenly froze, her face a mask of revulsion. She looked down and said, disgustedly, "We are still following them. Perhaps we follow
too
closely. The horse dung is still
very
fresh."

Charley suppressed something of a giggle. She looked up and around and saw a large stone monolith with carving and a fancy seal on it. "See, Mistress—the way goes in two, and what is that?" She hated the demeaning Short Speech but it was all she had. Boday knew no English and Charley's mouth simply wouldn't form Akhbreed. She was only thankful that her ear for languages and liking for music allowed her to understand—mostly—what was being said. To be in this position and effectively mute was inconvenient; to be essentially deaf would be intolerable.

Boday finished wiping what she could against the dry grass near the river and came up to look. "It appears to be an Imperial seal," she said, marveling. "It says that there is a Governor's residence down there. Difficult to believe in this desolation that anyone would
bother
with a Governor."

"Does Mistress think they might go there?" It was a real hope.

Boday sighed and thought about it. "There is more fresh dung going straight, and we know now that it is most certainly the riders with all our belongings and horses and perhaps Susama as well. This is too far along. Why would they have come here instead of waiting for us? No, the evidence points to them being captured by the riders. They go slowly because of their extra load anyway. Boday is thinking! Ah! What we must do is follow the riders for now, while there is still daylight. If we fail to catch up with them, at least sufficient to see if they do or do not have Susama and the girls, then we will return here and beg the Governor's help."

"Might he not help now, Mistress?"

Boday shook her head. "No, any Governor of a place like this is either in deep disgrace or he is the ringleader for all the criminal bands in the area. We might well be forced to him out of sheer hunger or desperation, but until we must Boday would like to avoid it. There is no sign of any recent horses save those we follow, so it is unlikely that this Governor's people found them and took them in, but it is quite likely that they had their hands in the raiders who attacked the trains. If so, one good look at you, my little butterfly, and you will quickly meet your horned pursuer. Never mind that he will then see through the deception. That will simply make my Susama the obvious target and our own fates will be most unpleasant. No, while Boday could happily eat one of her missing horses, she is tough, she can do without for now. We know where this place is now. We can always fall back on it as a last resort."

Charley nodded, seeing her logic. This was the Kudaan
Wastes,
for Pete's sake! Who would a Governor govern, and why? But an Akhbreed noble who had both official standing and criminal connections out here, with no other authority around, would be an ideal ally for Klittichorn. Damn it, if they just didn't think she was Sam this would be all suddenly very simple!

So they continued on, moving well past the cutoff, although Boday noted that here and there breaks in the rugged landscape showed distant groves and greenery, and more than once they passed small, expertly engineered gates like the tiny locks of a miniature canal leading to under the trail culverts that obviously sent water to that far-off but lush-looking region. They were too far for Charley to see the groves, but the irrigation canals were unmistakable and she took Boday's word for the rest. Whoever that guy was, he was smart and he had smart people working for him, too. The odds were that the community over there was entirely self-supporting, but that made it doubly dangerous. They would be their own masters, paying only lip service to any central authority, and open to all sorts of influences.

After a while, Boday looked up, studying the vegetation that covered the river bank, and pointed. "Boday is
starved!" she
exclaimed. "And, look! Some of these trees and bushes have ripe fruit! They must be wild offspring of those farms, carried here by the winds!"

"Mistress, we fall more back if we eat," Charley noted in the only way she could.

"Bah! You can see that this canyon runs a very long way, and it is too late in the day for anyone to think of climbing out, so they are not going to climb out today. They, too, must eat, must make camp or reach a destination. If we do not eat ourselves we will be in no condition to do what must be done later."

There was no arguing with that logic, although Charley couldn't help but wonder what the hell they could do if they caught up to the riders. At least back at the rock arch she'd had guns and a well-armed and well-staked-out ally above, and she'd had eyesight well enough to use them. What were they going to do? Take on all those armed and dangerous guys with rocks?

Much of the fruit was overripe, but enough was still good
or at least edible that they couldn't really complain. Charley managed to polish off two medium-sized
alu,
which was a lavender-colored fruit shaped like a bottle that looked inside a lot like pink apple and tasted more like a super-sweetened pear. The two of them stuffed her, although she'd eaten next to nothing for more than a day. She hadn't had much of an appetite since taking on this courtesan look, but she knew that she should be hungrier after this kind of fast and exercise than she was. Still, she felt neither sick nor particularly weak or dizzy and she was probably less tired than she should have been, so perhaps she was worrying too much. She was much more afraid of losing her eyesight than starving to death, anyway.

Boday ate well. That had been part of Sam's problem back in Tubikosa, really. Boday was the kind of person who ate all the good things in huge quantities and then complained that she could never gain any weight.

After a while, though, Boday picked up a last
alu
and got up. "Come, little butterfly! We wish to see if we can catch them before night, although Boday would
kill
to just sleep for ten or twelve hours!"

The shadows were getting long and the sun low before they got close. Boday put out a hand and stopped Charley.
"Habadus!"
she hissed. "Lots of them!"

It wasn't a word Charley knew, but the root indicated some sort of bird. She couldn't see but so far, but she strained at the sky and thought she could see some kind of dark, blurry movement. "What . . . ?"

"Carrion-eating birds. This is not good."

Vultures!
They were some kind of vultures, these
habadus.
Giant suckers, too, if she could make out anything of them.

Following Boday's lead, they inched forward, a bit off the trail and using what cover they had, until they could see just what the big birds were feeding upon. Charley had a sudden fear that it was going to be very familiar bodies, and she almost didn't want to know for sure.

You could smell the death from here, all torn and rotting in the sun. Boday checked the whole thing out carefully, then stood up. "Come. There is nothing left living here except the birds, and even though they are as big as you are they will flee us. They have no stomach for living things." She paused a moment, then added, "Well, at least their Tubikosan relatives do not."

Thanks a lot,
Charley thought sourly. There was cross-pollution, particularly of vegetation and birds, among many of the worlds of Akahlar, but there were vultures and there were vultures.

Between the flapping of enormous wings and the birdlike cries of protest, they walked among the scene of carnage and even Charley could see the very gory details and found them sickening.

Two dead horses, but no sign of the others. Lots of human bodies, though. Six, all male, stripped as naked as could be, their bodies and heads ripped open and mutilated, the blood merging into drying pools nearby. It was impossible to tell what damage had been done by the birds and what by the attackers, but it made no difference in the end.

"No bridles on the dead horses, no saddles or packs, the men stripped clean. These are the ones from whom we fled, little one. There is no doubt of that. And one of those poor horses is the very one Boday was riding! Pity. They were attacked suddenly, massacred, and stripped clean of everything of even the slightest value or use. If any had gold teeth they most certainly do not now. Boday is surprised they didn't skin them, too."

Charley felt as if she was going to be sick. "Sam . . . ?" she managed, moving out of the midst of the carnage.

"No. Rest easy, my pretty one! Boday will know if Sam dies. We are linked by potion and spell. No, since only the men died, it is probable that she and the others were taken by the attackers." Boday was suddenly very clinical and deliberative. "The blood and condition of the bodies put this at at least two hours ago. The attackers, they were very efficient, I think."

Charley was away from it. It helped, but not much. "Does Mistress think the—governor—did this?" She was beginning to have confidence enough to attempt a few needed words, as badly mauled as they might be.

"No, hardly, pretty one. They had our horses and probably their own since they would need to bring weapons and such. None of the men appears shot. Arrows, spears, that son of thing. Not the sort that professionals would use,
and if it were this governor, as Boday presumes you were attempting to say, they would have passed us on the way back. Nor were these the governor's men, Boday would wager. They had on plain black uniforms, not blue with gold, but they were uniforms all the same and thieves and scoundrels do not wear uniforms. They were army, but not
this
army. That was why they were attacked. The attackers had license to do what they would with invaders and how could this governor complain?"

"Yes, Mistress, but—where do they go?"

"Good question," Boday admitted. "Not back or there would have been a real racket. Not east, because that would take them into this governor's domain and they would probably at least have to share the booty. West is the river—far too deep here for horses. So—we continue!"

Charley nodded sadly and they got up and left the scene of carnage, none too soon for Charley's taste. It seemed to inspire Boday, though. She kept muttering, "Boday wishes she had some charcoal and paper. Such inspiration she is getting from all this! Such violence, such suffering, such travails she has already undergone! If this keeps up much longer, Boday will ultimately be acclaimed the greatest artist of her times!"