Part 6 (1/2)
”You didn't have to do this,” Murdock said dully.
”No, but I figured you'd be tied up with Luroc for half the evening and be dead tired afterward. A partisan should be able to sleep for a few hours following one of our raids, not have to hop right into a council of war.”
He sighed. ”Well, the favor's appreciated tonight. Thanks.”
The guerrilla commander looked up suddenly. ”I Loran offered me my share of the gold.”
Ashe's brows raised, and his lips curved into an amused smile. ”I suppose there'll eventually be some sort of ruling against it- conflict of interest or some such thing-but as of the moment, there's no law against...”
”Can it, will you, Gordon! I don't think that's funny.” He gripped himself. ”Sorry. I'm about done, I guess.”
”You are.” The other was deadly serious now. ”You're also finding that you like Dominion of Virgin a great deal and that you could make it here, make it big.”
A knife seemed to drive into Ross, and he turned away swiftly, his head lowering.
Ashe's fingers closed on his shoulder. ”Karara stayed, Ross,” he reminded him gently. ”Only, think carefully, very, very carefully, before you choose this world and time to be your Hawaika.”
10.
”GET OUT!” Zanthor's eyes bore into the back of the retreating mercenary until the door of his office closed between them. His fist slammed onto the surface of the table that was his desk. ”Firehand again! May every demon's curse blight his life!”
”Demons' curses are readily summoned,” Tarlroc I Zanthor replied calmly. ”That was the last of their gold.”
”The last of it in our possession,” his sire corrected.
”You will go to them again so soon?”
”I need that gold,” he responded bluntly. ”Our hirelings had taken possession of their payment and lost it themselves, but I still must send them some sop to ease their disappointment, or I might find myself lacking an army come spring. How long do you think it would be after that before we were all spitted on I Carlroc's swords or on those of Firehand's skulkers in the shadows?”
”That could prove the lesser of our perils.”
The tightness in his tone caused the older man to look at him sharply. ”You fear the big heads so greatly?” he asked contemptuously.
”I fear them, and so should you.” He hesitated. ”You feel nothing when we are with them? They do nothing to you?”
I Yoroc started to snap out a curt denial but changed his mind. ”Nothing, or nothing since they guided me to them the first time.” He described the strange pulling he had experienced then.
”Maybe you are safe,” Tarlroc said softly, more to himself than to his father. ”That would explain...”
”I do not see that they have done you much harm.”
”Not for lack of effort on their part,” he responded bitterly. ”They attempted to freeze me along with the rest of your escort, but I freed myself.” He s.h.i.+vered in his heart. He was good with words, but he could not describe that horrible burning, the invisible fire that had threatened to sear away his mind, to char the core of his being. He could not explain how he had been able to block it. He simply did not know, save that it had cost an enormous effort of will to do so. ”Even then, they did not leave me alone. They have never ceased trying to bend me to their will.”
”In what manner?” Zanthor demanded. ”You have not chosen to mention this before.”
Tarlroc's eyes fell. ”They press me to kill you.”
”The demons ordered that?”
”Not directly, but thoughts rise in me when we are with them, memories of slights, insults, blows. Some of the incidents did happen, but the most of them have to be creations of the hairless ones. They do not come of me.”
”Obviously, you have resisted. Thus far.”
His son looked up. ”I do not want to kill you,” he said quietly. ”You have used me well enough when another man might have looked at me and done otherwise. You have appreciated the abilities I do have and put them to good use, granting me even greater access to your councils than you do the Ton-heir...”
Tarlroc saw Zanthor's impatient scowl, and his head raised. ”I am not growing maudlin or stupid, but we are treating with demons who can draw people to them, reduce soldiers to breathing corpses, insert thoughts and promptings into men's minds. We would do well to be clear about our own intentions and interests when we front them, or we could find ourselves serving theirs only.”
”You have a head balanced on that scrawny neck,” the Ton of Condor Hall conceded gruffly. ”So they try to lure you into slaying me? Why? Why not do it themselves, for that matter? Those fire rods they made sure we saw them use the last time could burn through flesh as readily as through steel.”
”Who knows what moves their kind? They may feel they have a better hope of controlling me for their own ends. Whatever their reasons, they do seem to want us, you, to do their butchering for them, though I would not trust them far once we do gain control of the island.” His mouth twisted. ”If we do.”
”We are not beaten yet,” I Yoroc told him calmly. ”As for trusting them, you may rest a.s.sured that I do not, in my sight or out of it. They are allies of need at this point, not of choice.”
Zanthor's eyes were hard, determined. ”Order our deer saddled. The big heads will not be expecting another visit from us at this point. Perhaps we can surprise some concessions out of them.”
The Condor Hall leaders silently made their way along the familiar route. The Ton was deep in thought, as he had been almost from the time they had left the hall. His son welcomed the quiet as he strove to strengthen himself against the compulsion to which he knew he would be subjected.
Suddenly, I Yoroc reined in his mount. ”I would prefer to give the demons as little notice of our approach as possible. Let us go the rest of the way on foot.”
They fastened the springdeer to a tree near a good patch of browse. The route before them was in actuality a rough path worn by the strange beings in the camp, and they would be able to travel it quietly and quickly, with no snapping or swis.h.i.+ng branches to announce their presence.
The Dominionites soon reached the clearing. Those they sought were there, deeply engrossed in heavy, well-ordered labor.
The two damaged pillars were lying on the ground, as they had been since the humans' second visit, and the five strangers were working on them. Already, they had straightened them. Splotches of somewhat differently colored metal revealed where patches had been added to strengthen the original structures and for other purposes incomprehensible to the two observers. A pair of the demons were using their fire rods to melt some of Zanthor's latest offering in preparation to melding it to the column on which they presently worked.
The watchers were given only a brief moment in which to study the camp. In the next, the hairless ones straightened and faced the place where they were standing.
I Yoroc called out his name and stepped forward, keeping his hands well away from his sword. Tarlroc followed a step behind him.
”Put up your fire rods. As always, we come in peace.”
”This was poorly done, Ton. Why do you spy on us?”
”Taking a moment's breathing s.p.a.ce is not spying,” he countered evenly. ”Why do you order my son to kill me?”
There was no immediate answer, and Zanthor's eyes narrowed. ”Did you think he would not inform me of your efforts?”
”It was merely to test his loyalty as your close a.s.sociate.”
”Your caution is greatly appreciated,” I Yoroc commented dryly, ”but he has met the test. It need not be repeated.”
”This is why you have returned here so soon?”
”I am here because I, in my turn, feel compelled to put your supposed goodwill to the test. I want the remainder of the gold now. I have a war to fight which I began at your instigation. Paltry doles will not win it for me or for you.”