Arising shriek
rushed us from above. The falling, flailing Voroshk smashed through
the leaf roof of a shelter. The shrieking stopped. Bits of roof
flew upward. I said, “Murgen, go check that out.”
When I looked back to the forvalaka, I discovered that Goblin
had joined us. He pushed through the crowd and stood over the
monster, staring down. She was about halfway changed, her arms and
legs having become a badly scarred, naked woman. She was aware
enough to recognize Goblin.
The frog-faced little man said, “We tried to help you and
you wouldn’t let us. We could’ve saved you but you
turned on us. So now you pay. You mess with the Company, you
pay.” He started to reach for One-Eye’s spear.
Men jumped every which way. Half a dozen bamboo poles swung
toward Goblin. Crossbows came off shoulders.
The little wizard’s mouth opened and closed several times.
Then his hand slowly withdrew.
I guess news of One-Eye’s dying words had gotten
around.
Goblin squeaked, “Maybe you shouldn’t have rescued
me.”
Lady told him, “We didn’t,” but did not expand
upon her remark. She drew me away. “He has something to do
with Bowalk dying so easily.”
I glanced over there. “She isn’t dead
yet.”
“She should have been much tougher.”
“Even considering the fetishes and One-Eye’s
spear?”
She thought about that. “Maybe. When she’s done
dying you’d better make sure that thing is hard to reach. I
don’t like the look in Goblin’s eye when he stares at
it.”
That look was there now, though the little wizard showed no
inclination to do anything certain to inspire a swift and violent
response.
Swan and his gang were approaching, four of the men at the
corners of a makeshift litter. Trotting ahead, Swan puffed,
“Wait’ll you get a look at this, Croaker. You
ain’t going to believe it.”
At the same moment Murgen called for another stretcher. So the
other Voroshk had survived, too.
Swan was on the mark. The girl on the stretcher was impossible
to believe. Maybe sixteen, blonde, as gorgeous as every boy’s
fantasy. I asked my wife, “Darling, is this for real?”
And to Swan, “Good job, Willow.” He had bound and
gagged the girl so as to disarm most of a sorcerer’s simpler
tricks.
Lady said, “You men get back.” There was not much
left of what the girl had been wearing. And more than a few of the
guys were the sort who would count her fair game for having tried
to attack us. Some were the sort who would dish out the same
treatment to a male captive. They might be my brethren but that did
not make them less cruel men.
Lady told Swan, “Take Doj back over there and collect
anything you can find that belonged to her. Her clothing and that
thing she was riding in particular.” And to me she said,
“Yes, dear, she’s the real thing. Except for just a
touch of makeup. I hate her already. Goblin! You come over here and
stand where I can see you.”
I stared down at the Voroshk girl, not focusing on the lushness
and freshness of her but on the blondness and whiteness. I have
read all the Annals, all the way back to the first volume—albeit,
admittedly, a several-generations-removed-from-original copy—that
had been begun before our forebrethren ever left Khatovar. Those
men had not been tall and white and blond. Could the Voroshk be
another out-world scourge like the Shadowmasters of my own world
and Hsien?
At that moment Lady removed her helmet, the better to menace me
for staring. And I realized she was quite white herself, even if
not blonde.
Why expect the peoples of Khatovar to be any more homogeneous
than the peoples of my own world?
Murgen and his crew came jogging up, carrying another body on
another crude litter. The first had escaped most of the effects of
impact and fire. This one had been less fortunate.
“Another girl,” I observed. That fact was hard to
ignore. She was more obvious than the first.
“Younger than the other one.”
“But just as well put together.”
“Better, from where I’m standing.”
“They’re sisters,” Lady growled. “You
have an idea what this means?”
“Probably that the Voroshk had so little respect for us
that they sent out some kids so they could get in some practice.
But after what’s happened, Daddy and Grandpa will take a
closer interest.” I beckoned. “Gather round,
gentlemen.” Once everyone not doing something closed in, I
said, “In a short time we’re probably going to have a
sky full of unfriendly company. I want you to start pulling up
stakes and getting the animals and equipment back through the gate.
Right now.”
Lady asked, “You think that third one will make it back to
the Voroshk army?”
“No way will I bet against it. My mother’s
optimistic children have all been dead for fifty years.” I
glanced at the forvalaka. It was almost entirely Lisa Bowalk now.
Except for the head. “Looks like some mythological beast,
don’t she?”
She was not dead yet. Her eyes were open. They were no longer
cat’s eyes. They begged. She did not want to die.
I told Lady, “She doesn’t look any older than the
last time I saw her.” She was still a young and attractive
woman—for one whose formative years had been spent surviving the
worst slum of a truly ugly city. “Hey, Cratch. Grab Slobo. I
want you guys to bring all the firewood over here and pile it on
this thing.”
Goblin said, “I’ll help.”
“I’ll tell you what, runt. You want a job, you can
build me a couple of good litters so we can take our new
girlfriends with us.”
Lady asked, “Are they fit to travel?”
“The older one could probably get up and limp along on her
own if she was conscious. I’ll need a closer look here before
I can tell how bad this one’s hurt, though.”
“You watch what you’re poking and squeezing, old
man.”
“You’d think that, at your age, you’d have
developed a little better sense of humor, old woman. Don’t
you understand that every profession has its perks? A surgeon gets
to poke and squeeze.”
“So does a wife.”
“I knew I forgot something when we did that ceremony
thing. Shoulda brung a lawyer. Cratch! Nobody touches that spear
till we start the fire. And I’ll do any touching that gets
done. Where are my birds? I’ve got to get the Black Hounds
called in.” We could not leave them here. They were going to
be critical weapons in the war with Soulcatcher. Sleepy was,
probably, missing them desperately already.
Swan and three others approached, straining to carry the post
the older girl had ridden. Swan puffed. “This goddamned thing
weighs a ton!” The four of them started to drop it.
“No!” Lady barked. “Gently! You recall what
happened to the other one? Up there?” She pointed. Smoke or
dust or whatever still smeared the sky. There was still an
occasional crackle of toy lightning inside the cloud, too.
“That’s better. Goblin! Doj! Come and take a look at
this thing.”
“Check this cloth,” Swan said, offering me a bit of
black rag.
It felt like silk and seemed almost weightless. It stretched
when I pulled it without tearing or getting any thinner. Or so it
seemed.
“Now watch this.” Swan stabbed the cloth with his
knife. The knife did not penetrate. It did not cut when he slashed,
either.
I said, “Now isn’t that a handy little trick?
We’re lucky we had the bamboo. Honey, check this out. Show
her, Swan. You, men. Get the post thing on the other side of the
gate. Let’s get moving, people! These folks can fly. And the
next bunch that shows up aren’t likely to be as
friendly.” No one really needed my encouragement, though. A
solid line of men, animals and equipment was moving upslope
already. The older Voroshk girl was headed uphill already, too,
bound to Goblin’s first litter.
When Swan finished showing that cloth to Lady, I told him,
“See if you can’t find a log or post in one of the huts
that might look like that flying thing from a distance.”
Lady, Goblin and Swan all stared at me. This time I stood on my
command right and did not explain. I had a hunch the Voroshk would
not want to lose the post. Which my comrades might understand but
if I said so they would just ask for further explanations.
I said, “This one has broken bones, bad burns, punctures,
cuts and abrasions and probably internal injuries.”
“And?” Lady asked.
“And so I think she won’t be much use to us.
Probably die on us. So I’m going to do the best I can for
her, then leave her for her own people.”
“Going soft in your old age?”
“Like I said, she’d be more trouble than she’s
worth. Plus, the sister ought to be up and around in no time. So if
I do right by the one I leave here, the Voroshk might be less
inclined to run around behind us trying to get vicious.”
“What’re they going to do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to find out. I
just take into account the fact that they were able to get Bowalk
onto the plain and off again, once each way, without wrecking any
shadowgates. I’m hoping they don’t have what it takes
to move an army the same way.”
“They wouldn’t need to grab us if they did. Odds
are, Bowalk’s trip was possible because of what she was and
the fact that she’d bulled through it all once
before.”
I looked at the forvalaka. Even its head was Lisa Daele Bowalk
now. The same Lisa Bowalk who ruined Marron Shed a thousand
subjective years ago. Her eyes were shut but she was still
breathing.
We would have to fix that.
Lady told me, “Cut off her head first. Then start the
fire.”
Arising shriek
rushed us from above. The falling, flailing Voroshk smashed through
the leaf roof of a shelter. The shrieking stopped. Bits of roof
flew upward. I said, “Murgen, go check that out.”
When I looked back to the forvalaka, I discovered that Goblin
had joined us. He pushed through the crowd and stood over the
monster, staring down. She was about halfway changed, her arms and
legs having become a badly scarred, naked woman. She was aware
enough to recognize Goblin.
The frog-faced little man said, “We tried to help you and
you wouldn’t let us. We could’ve saved you but you
turned on us. So now you pay. You mess with the Company, you
pay.” He started to reach for One-Eye’s spear.
Men jumped every which way. Half a dozen bamboo poles swung
toward Goblin. Crossbows came off shoulders.
The little wizard’s mouth opened and closed several times.
Then his hand slowly withdrew.
I guess news of One-Eye’s dying words had gotten
around.
Goblin squeaked, “Maybe you shouldn’t have rescued
me.”
Lady told him, “We didn’t,” but did not expand
upon her remark. She drew me away. “He has something to do
with Bowalk dying so easily.”
I glanced over there. “She isn’t dead
yet.”
“She should have been much tougher.”
“Even considering the fetishes and One-Eye’s
spear?”
She thought about that. “Maybe. When she’s done
dying you’d better make sure that thing is hard to reach. I
don’t like the look in Goblin’s eye when he stares at
it.”
That look was there now, though the little wizard showed no
inclination to do anything certain to inspire a swift and violent
response.
Swan and his gang were approaching, four of the men at the
corners of a makeshift litter. Trotting ahead, Swan puffed,
“Wait’ll you get a look at this, Croaker. You
ain’t going to believe it.”
At the same moment Murgen called for another stretcher. So the
other Voroshk had survived, too.
Swan was on the mark. The girl on the stretcher was impossible
to believe. Maybe sixteen, blonde, as gorgeous as every boy’s
fantasy. I asked my wife, “Darling, is this for real?”
And to Swan, “Good job, Willow.” He had bound and
gagged the girl so as to disarm most of a sorcerer’s simpler
tricks.
Lady said, “You men get back.” There was not much
left of what the girl had been wearing. And more than a few of the
guys were the sort who would count her fair game for having tried
to attack us. Some were the sort who would dish out the same
treatment to a male captive. They might be my brethren but that did
not make them less cruel men.
Lady told Swan, “Take Doj back over there and collect
anything you can find that belonged to her. Her clothing and that
thing she was riding in particular.” And to me she said,
“Yes, dear, she’s the real thing. Except for just a
touch of makeup. I hate her already. Goblin! You come over here and
stand where I can see you.”
I stared down at the Voroshk girl, not focusing on the lushness
and freshness of her but on the blondness and whiteness. I have
read all the Annals, all the way back to the first volume—albeit,
admittedly, a several-generations-removed-from-original copy—that
had been begun before our forebrethren ever left Khatovar. Those
men had not been tall and white and blond. Could the Voroshk be
another out-world scourge like the Shadowmasters of my own world
and Hsien?
At that moment Lady removed her helmet, the better to menace me
for staring. And I realized she was quite white herself, even if
not blonde.
Why expect the peoples of Khatovar to be any more homogeneous
than the peoples of my own world?
Murgen and his crew came jogging up, carrying another body on
another crude litter. The first had escaped most of the effects of
impact and fire. This one had been less fortunate.
“Another girl,” I observed. That fact was hard to
ignore. She was more obvious than the first.
“Younger than the other one.”
“But just as well put together.”
“Better, from where I’m standing.”
“They’re sisters,” Lady growled. “You
have an idea what this means?”
“Probably that the Voroshk had so little respect for us
that they sent out some kids so they could get in some practice.
But after what’s happened, Daddy and Grandpa will take a
closer interest.” I beckoned. “Gather round,
gentlemen.” Once everyone not doing something closed in, I
said, “In a short time we’re probably going to have a
sky full of unfriendly company. I want you to start pulling up
stakes and getting the animals and equipment back through the gate.
Right now.”
Lady asked, “You think that third one will make it back to
the Voroshk army?”
“No way will I bet against it. My mother’s
optimistic children have all been dead for fifty years.” I
glanced at the forvalaka. It was almost entirely Lisa Bowalk now.
Except for the head. “Looks like some mythological beast,
don’t she?”
She was not dead yet. Her eyes were open. They were no longer
cat’s eyes. They begged. She did not want to die.
I told Lady, “She doesn’t look any older than the
last time I saw her.” She was still a young and attractive
woman—for one whose formative years had been spent surviving the
worst slum of a truly ugly city. “Hey, Cratch. Grab Slobo. I
want you guys to bring all the firewood over here and pile it on
this thing.”
Goblin said, “I’ll help.”
“I’ll tell you what, runt. You want a job, you can
build me a couple of good litters so we can take our new
girlfriends with us.”
Lady asked, “Are they fit to travel?”
“The older one could probably get up and limp along on her
own if she was conscious. I’ll need a closer look here before
I can tell how bad this one’s hurt, though.”
“You watch what you’re poking and squeezing, old
man.”
“You’d think that, at your age, you’d have
developed a little better sense of humor, old woman. Don’t
you understand that every profession has its perks? A surgeon gets
to poke and squeeze.”
“So does a wife.”
“I knew I forgot something when we did that ceremony
thing. Shoulda brung a lawyer. Cratch! Nobody touches that spear
till we start the fire. And I’ll do any touching that gets
done. Where are my birds? I’ve got to get the Black Hounds
called in.” We could not leave them here. They were going to
be critical weapons in the war with Soulcatcher. Sleepy was,
probably, missing them desperately already.
Swan and three others approached, straining to carry the post
the older girl had ridden. Swan puffed. “This goddamned thing
weighs a ton!” The four of them started to drop it.
“No!” Lady barked. “Gently! You recall what
happened to the other one? Up there?” She pointed. Smoke or
dust or whatever still smeared the sky. There was still an
occasional crackle of toy lightning inside the cloud, too.
“That’s better. Goblin! Doj! Come and take a look at
this thing.”
“Check this cloth,” Swan said, offering me a bit of
black rag.
It felt like silk and seemed almost weightless. It stretched
when I pulled it without tearing or getting any thinner. Or so it
seemed.
“Now watch this.” Swan stabbed the cloth with his
knife. The knife did not penetrate. It did not cut when he slashed,
either.
I said, “Now isn’t that a handy little trick?
We’re lucky we had the bamboo. Honey, check this out. Show
her, Swan. You, men. Get the post thing on the other side of the
gate. Let’s get moving, people! These folks can fly. And the
next bunch that shows up aren’t likely to be as
friendly.” No one really needed my encouragement, though. A
solid line of men, animals and equipment was moving upslope
already. The older Voroshk girl was headed uphill already, too,
bound to Goblin’s first litter.
When Swan finished showing that cloth to Lady, I told him,
“See if you can’t find a log or post in one of the huts
that might look like that flying thing from a distance.”
Lady, Goblin and Swan all stared at me. This time I stood on my
command right and did not explain. I had a hunch the Voroshk would
not want to lose the post. Which my comrades might understand but
if I said so they would just ask for further explanations.
I said, “This one has broken bones, bad burns, punctures,
cuts and abrasions and probably internal injuries.”
“And?” Lady asked.
“And so I think she won’t be much use to us.
Probably die on us. So I’m going to do the best I can for
her, then leave her for her own people.”
“Going soft in your old age?”
“Like I said, she’d be more trouble than she’s
worth. Plus, the sister ought to be up and around in no time. So if
I do right by the one I leave here, the Voroshk might be less
inclined to run around behind us trying to get vicious.”
“What’re they going to do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to find out. I
just take into account the fact that they were able to get Bowalk
onto the plain and off again, once each way, without wrecking any
shadowgates. I’m hoping they don’t have what it takes
to move an army the same way.”
“They wouldn’t need to grab us if they did. Odds
are, Bowalk’s trip was possible because of what she was and
the fact that she’d bulled through it all once
before.”
I looked at the forvalaka. Even its head was Lisa Daele Bowalk
now. The same Lisa Bowalk who ruined Marron Shed a thousand
subjective years ago. Her eyes were shut but she was still
breathing.
We would have to fix that.
Lady told me, “Cut off her head first. Then start the
fire.”