Part 13 (1/2)
”Cry them not forbidden, yet!” cried Deci, his crest rippling. ”We knowthem not. To taboo them now would not be fair. They may come bearing gifts...”
”For gifts given, something always is taken. We have no wish to exchangeour young men for a look at the Strangers.” Dobi furrowed the dust with hisfingers and smoothed away the furrows as Viat had been smoothed away.
”And yet,” Veti's soft voice came clearly as her blue crest caught thebreeze, ”it may be that they will have knowledge for us that we have not.Never have we taken craft into the clouds and back.”
”Yes, yes!” Deci's eyes embraced Veti, who held his heart. ”They must havemuch knowledge, many gifts for us.”
”The gift of knowledge is welcome,” said Tefu in his low rumble. ”But giftsin the hands have fangs and bonds.”
”The old words!” cried Deci. ”The old ways do not hold when new waysarrive!”
”True,” nodded Dobi. ”If the new is truly a way and not a whirlwind or atrail that goes no place. But to judge without facts is to judge in error. Iwill go to the strangers.”
”And I.” Tefu's voice stirred like soft thunder. ”And I? And I?” Deci's words tumbled on themselves and the dust stirred with his hurried rising.”Young-” muttered Tefu.
”Young eyes to notice what old eyes might miss,” said Dobi. ”Our path isyours.” His crest rippled as he nodded to Deci.
”Deci!” Veti's voice was shaken by the unknown. ”Come not again as Viatcame. The heart you bear with you is not your own.”
”I will come again,” cried Deci, ”to fill your hands with wonders anddelights.” He gave each of her cupped palms a kiss to hold against his return.
Time is not hours and days, or the slanting and shortening of shadows. Timeis a held breath and a listening ear.
Time incredible pa.s.sed before the ripple through the gra.s.s, the rustlethrough reeds, the sudden sound of footsteps where it seemed no footstepscould be. The rocks seemed to part to let them through.
Dobi led, limping, slow of foot, flattened of crest, his eyes hidden in theshadow of his bent head. Then came Tefu, like one newly blind, groping,reaching, b.u.mping, reeling until he huddled against the familiar rocks in thefading sunlight.
”Deci?” cried Veti, parting the crowd with her cry. ”Deci?”
”He came not with us,” said Dobi. ”He watched us go.” ”Willingly?” Veti'shands clenched over the memory of his mouth. ”Willingly? Or was there force?”
”Willingly?” The eyes that Tefu turned to Veti saw her not. They lookedwithin at hidden things. ”Force? He stayed. There were no bonds about him.” Hetouched a wondering finger to one eye and then the other. ”Open,” he rumbled.”Where is the light?” 'Tell me,” cried Veti. ”Oh, tell me!” Dobi sat in thedust, his big hands marking it on either side of him.
”They truly have wonders. They would give us many strange things for ourdevi.” His fingers tinkled the fringing of his jacket. ”Fabrics beyond ourdreams. Tools we could use. Weapons that could free the land of everyflesh-hungry kutu.”
”And Deci? And Deci?” Veti voiced her fear again.
”Deci saw all and desired all. His devi were ripped off before the sun slidan arm's reach. He was like a child in a meadow of flowers, clutching,grabbing, crumpling and finding always the next flower fairer.”
Wind came in the silence and poured itself around bare shoulders.
”Then he will return,” said Veti, loosening her clenched hand. ”When thewonder is gone.”
”As Viat returned?” Tefu's voice rumbled. ”As I have returned?” He held his hand before his eyes and dropped his fingers one by one. ”How many fingersbefore you? Six? Four? Two?”
”You saw the Strangers, before we withdrew the coveti. You saw the strangegarments they wore, the s.h.i.+ning roundness, the heavy glitter and thickness.Our air is not air for them. Without the garments, they would die.”
”If they are so well wrapped against the world, how could they hurt?” criedVeti. 'They cannot hurt Devi. He will return.”
”I returned,” murmured Tefu. ”I did but walk among them and the misting oftheir finished breath has done this to me. Only time and the Hidden Ones knowif sight is through for me.
”One was concerned for me. One peered at me when first my steps began towaver. He hurried me away from the others and sat away from me and watchedwith me as the lights went out. He was concerned for me-or was studying me.But I am blind.”
”And you?” asked Veti of Dobi. ”It harmed you not?”
”I took care,” said Dobi. ”I came not close after the first meeting. Andyet . . .” he turned the length of his thigh. From hip to knee the split fleshglinted like the raking of a mighty claw. ”I was among the trees when a kutuscreamed on the hill above me. Fire lashed out from the Strangers and itscreamed no more. Startled, I moved the branches about me and-s-s-s-s-st!” Hisfinger streaked beside his thigh.
”But Deci-”
Dobi scattered his dust handprint with a swirl of his fingers. ”Deci islike a scavenging mayu. He follows, hand outstretched. 'Wait, wait,' he criedwhen we turned to go. 'We can lead the world with these wonders.'”
”Why should we lead the world? Now there is no first and no last. Whyshould we reach beyond our brothers to grasp things that dust will claim?”
”Wail him dead, Veti,” rumbled Tefu. ”Death a thousand ways surrounds himnow. And if his body comes again, his heart is no longer with us. Wail himdead.”
”Yes,” nodded Dobi. ”Wail him dead and give thanks that our coveti is sosecurely hidden that the Strangers can never come to sow among us the seeds ofmore Viats and Tefus.”
”The Strangers are taboo! The coveti path is closed.” So Veti wailed himdead, crouching in the dust of the coveti path, clutching in her hands thekiom Deci had given her with his heart. Viat's mother sat with her anhour-until Veti broke her wail and cried, ”Your grief is not mine. You pinnedViat's kiom. You folded his hands to rest. You gave him back to earth. Wailnot with me. I wail for an emptiness- for an unknowledge. For a wondering anda fearing. You know Viat is on the trail to the Hidden Ones. But I know not ofDeci. Is he alive? Is he dying in the wilderness with no pelu to light himinto the darkness? Is he crawling now, blind and maimed up the coveti trail? Iwail a death with no hope. A hopelessness with no death. I wail alone.”
And so she wailed past the point of tears, into the aching dryness ofgrief. The coveti went about its doing, knowing she would live again whengrief was spent.
Then came the day when all faces swung to the head of the coveti trail. Allears flared to the sound of Veti's scream and all eyes rounded to see Decistagger into the coveti.
Veti flew to him, her arms outstretched, her heart believing before hermind could confirm. But Deci winced away from her touch and his face halfsnarled as his hand, shorn of three fingers and barely beginning toregenerate, motioned her away.
”Deci!” cried Veti, ”Deci?”
”Let-let-me breathe.” Deci leaned against the rocks. Deci who could outruna kutu, whose feet had lightness and swiftness beyond all others in thecoveti. ”The trail takes the breath.”
”Deci!” Veti's hands still reached, one all unknowingly proffering thekiom. Seeing it, she laughed and cast it aside. The death mark with Deci alivebefore her? ”Oh, Deci!” And then she fell silent as she saw his maimed hand,his ragged crest, his ravaged jacket, his seared legs -his eyes- His eyes!They were not the eyes of the Deci who had gone with eagerness to see theStrangers. He had brought the Strangers back in his eyes.
His breath at last came smoothly and he leaned to Veti, reaching as he didso, into the bundle by his side.
”I promised,” he said, seeing Veti only. ”I have come again to fill yourhands with wonder and delight.”
But Veti's hands were hidden behind her. Gifts from strangers are suspect.
”Here,” said Deci, laying an ugly angled thing down in the dust beforeVeti. ”Here is death to all kutus, be they six-legged or two. Let the Durlocoveti say again the Klori stream is theirs for fis.h.i.+ng,” he muttered.”Nothing is theirs now save by our sufferance. I give you power, Veti.”
Veti moved back a pace.
”And here,” he laid a flask of gla.s.s beside the weapon. ”This is for dreamsand laughter. This is what Viat drank of-but too much. They call it water. It is a drink the Hidden Ones could envy. One mouthful and all memory of pain andgrief, loss and unreachable dreams is gone.
”I give you forgetfulness, Veti.” Veti's head moved denyingly from side toside. ”And here.” He pulled forth, carelessly, arms-lengths of s.h.i.+ning fabricthat rippled and clung and caught the sun. His eyes were almost Deci's eyesagain.
Veti's heart was moved, womanwise, to the fabric and her hands reached forit, since no woman can truly see a fabric unless her fingers taste its body,flow, and texture.
”For you, for beauty. And this, that you might behold yourself untwisted bymoving waters.” He laid beside the weapon and the water a square of reflectingbrightness. ”For you to see yourself as Lady over the world as I see myselfLord.”