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Authors: Katharine Kerr

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BOOK: Snare
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Zayn had lingered at the edge of the proceedings until the Great Mother pronounced her verdict. Once he knew that the khan was safe, he retrieved his sorrel gelding and the pack horse from the young Chur and led them from the village. Down by the canal and its guardian twistrees, Warkannan’s mount and the khan’s were grazing at tether. Zayn unsaddled his pair, put them on the halter and tether ropes, and coiled the surplus ropes over his shoulder so he could take them on a short lead to drink at the canal.

Out in the middle of the canal, the moving water had scoured the underlying black aggregate clean, but soil had drifted in and piled up along the edges, providing beds for rushes and fronded stream weeds. The shallow water lay like liquid gold against the black in the afternoon sunlight. When the horses waded a few paces out, the ripples around their legs broke into rainbows. Already in the shallows the frogs were croaking; needlebuhs hummed and darted through the maroon water reeds. An auburn glow washed the distant mountains of the east. Faced with all this beauty the only thing Zayn could feel was his shame: a physical, cold exhaustion, a twist in his stomach.

He had offended the most important person in his world. Quite possibly she would forbid him to return to the comnee. If she did, he would go back to Kazrajistan with Jezro Khan and throw himself into the first charge they had to ride. With luck, an enemy’s sabre would end the shame for him permanently, and if not in that charge, then in the next. From somewhere upstream among maroon reeds a crane called, its cry a harsh shriek. Zayn turned towards the sound.

‘Little brother!’ he called in answer.

With a flap of naked grey wings, the crane rose and flew, shrieking again as it headed off west, its pink legs and tail dangling.
With a snort the sorrel gelding raised its head as if to watch the crane’s flight. I don’t want to die, Zayn thought. What in hell was I doing, brooding like that?

‘Zayn?’ Ammadin was calling him. ‘Zayn, where are you?’

‘Over here.’ He felt his stomach clench cold. ‘Through the trees. By the canal.’

He heard dead tree-needles rustle and fallen twigs snap as she made her way over to him. He was afraid to turn and look at her.

‘I just spoke with Jezro,’ Ammadin said. ‘He told me he ordered you to discuss my quest. Warkannan said he ordered you twice before you told him. That changes everything.’

Zayn caught his breath. It would be so easy to let her believe him blameless, so easy, so tempting, so wrong.

‘That’s true,’ he said, ‘but if I’d explained it was Bane, he would have let me out of the net.’

‘Oh.’ She paused. ‘You didn’t have to tell me that, did you? You could have just let Jezro’s excuse stand.’

‘Ammi, I promised you and Dallo both: no more lies.’ He turned to face her. ‘I’m sick of lies. I’m only sorry it took me so long to tell you the truth.’

She studied him, her expression solemn, unsmiling while he felt his heart pounding in something much like fear. ‘You’re forgiven anyway,’ she said at last. ‘You’ve just earned it.’

Zayn started to speak and found himself near tears. Ammadin put her saddlebags on the ground and reached up to lay her hands on either side of his face. He flung one arm around her waist and kissed her, but he was comnee man enough to keep hold of the lead ropes with his free hand.

‘Uh,’ he said. ‘What about tonight?’

Ammadin burst out laughing and pushed him away.

‘What’s so damn funny?’

‘One minute you look like you’re going to grovel at my feet, and then the next all you can think about is getting me onto a blanket somewhere.’

‘It’s your own fault. You’re the one who’s so beautiful.’

‘There’s a proverb among the comnees – never trust a flattering Kazrak.’ Ammadin stooped and retrieved her saddlebags. ‘But once it’s dark, we can come back to these trees.’

After a brief consultation with Water Woman, Loy decided that the H’mai should make a separate camp with Water Woman’s people between them and the village. Water Woman agreed and designated one of the servants to take care of them and five spear Chur to guard them and the horses.

‘Go-not too far,’ Water Woman said. ‘We want-not to be rude, but we want-not either to rub the shame like sand in Herbgather Woman’s eyes.’

‘My thought exactly.’

‘My Chur bring-next you wood for a fire and food, of course. You and Ammadin have food, I see, but Zayn, the khan, his friend – they have none, and so I send-next some. When we travel-soon to Sibyl, my Chur hunt and get more food.’

‘Are we going to go to Sibyl’s right away? I hope so.’

‘Yes.’ Water Woman stamped her forefeet. ‘Since the Great Mother stay here, Herbgather Woman stay-must too. She follow-not us.’

‘Victory!’

‘Just that, Loy Sorcerer. Victory!’

By the time they got the two camps sorted out and set up, the sun had sunk below the traps. Although the sky above shone blue, shadows fell across the plateau and filled the valley. When Loy and Ammadin tried to scan, they found that the rise of stone at the traps’ western edge cut them off from the observation grid as well.

‘That’s worrisome,’ Ammadin said. ‘I wanted to get another look at Soutan before nightfall.’

‘So did I,’ Loy said. ‘We’re going to have to remember this. The grid’s not going to be overhead for very long at each pass.’

‘We’ll try again in the morning.’ Ammadin stood up, glancing around. ‘Zayn and I will be down near the river if you need us. In the trees not far from the horses.’

Loy returned to camp. When the wood arrived, she made a fire for the light, then got out her notebook; she had pages of important material to record and expand from her hasty notes. The two Kazraki men sat on the other side of the fire and talked between themselves, at least at first. After some while Loy became aware that they’d fallen silent. She looked up to see Warkannan reading a book, and Jezro studying her.

‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ Loy said in Vranz. ‘I’m almost done.’

‘That’s quite all right,’ Jezro said. ‘And I didn’t mean to be rude, either, by staring at you. Once Idres here gets to reading he can be pretty dull company.’

Warkannan looked up at his name, smiled, and went back to his book. Loy finished off her notes, then got up and put the notebook and pen away. All her life she’d heard about Kazraks, but she had never actually met one before. She was tempted to take notes on them, too. Jezro of course was half a Cantonneur, but Warkannan struck her as very foreign indeed. She came back and sat down some feet away from the fire itself to avoid the heat. Jezro moved round to join her, but Warkannan never looked up.

‘That’s your holy book, isn’t it?’ Loy said. ‘The Qur’an, I mean.’

‘Yes, though what he has is a translation,’ Jezro said. ‘The original’s in an Old Earth language, Arabic.’

‘That’s right – you’ve lived on this side of the Rift long enough to learn some things.’

‘I know the truth, more or less, yes,’ Jezro continued, smiling. ‘About where we came from, how we got here, and the mess we’re stuck in now. So do Hassan and Warkannan. Tell me something, Loremaster Millou. How long do you think we can all keep up this charade?’

‘Not very much longer at all. The Landfall Treaty’s outlived its reasons for existing.’

‘I’ve had thoughts that way myself. It seems to be putting the Chof in more danger, not less.’

‘I agree with you. And I think the Chof want to end it, too. I had some good long talks with Water Woman on the way here. The Great Mother seems to feel that change is going to happen whether they want it or not, and so she’d rather be the one to initiate it.’

‘She’ll have more control that way, certainly. Where does Sibyl fit into this?’

‘I don’t have the slightest idea yet. I suspect that Sibyl herself will tell us when we get there. Water Woman won’t say who or what she is, beyond calling her the stone woman.’

‘All right.’ Jezro considered this for a moment. ‘You know, I owe you a profound apology.’

‘What for?’

‘Yarl Soutan. I should have turned him over to the zhundars the minute Hassan told me the truth about what happened to your
daughter. I was arrogant enough to think I could handle the situation on my own, and he escaped. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.’

Loy shrugged and stared into the fire. She was remembering sitting in the Sarla courthouse, waiting for Soutan’s trial, only to have a furious bailiff tell her that he’d forfeited his bail and fled the canton.

‘We’ll get him yet,’ Jezro went on. ‘Sibyl’s the best bait in the world to draw him.’

‘That’s true, isn’t it?’ Loy said. ‘I’m sorry he managed to get his claws into the captain’s nephew.’

‘So am I. You know, when Hassan told us that Soutan was lying, Idres wanted to enforce the laws of the Three Prophets right then and there. I should have let him.’

‘What kind of punishment do they provide for rape?’

‘Beheading.’

‘Sounds good to me. If you catch him, I get to watch.’

Jezro smiled, then fished in his shirt pocket for a handkerchief.

‘You know,’ Loy said, ‘I hope this isn’t insulting, but when I think of someone who’s heir to a throne, I don’t think of someone like you.’

‘Insulting? Actually, I’d call it a compliment.’

They shared a laugh. When Warkannan looked up from his book, Jezro spoke in Kazraki. Warkannan grinned and nodded Loy’s way, as if to agree.

Just as the sun was clearing the eastern mountains, Sentry chimed, and Ammadin woke. Still naked, she knelt on the blanket and brought out her crystals. She could hear Zayn moving around and yawning behind her, but she ignored him and concentrated on Spirit Eyes. First she scanned from side to side to gauge the plateau’s width, which turned out to vary considerably from narrow necks of about a mile in some spots to a wide plain of at least thirty miles in others. She decided to assume that Yarl had travelled north from his last position and gained the plateau. She sent the focus scanning to the north, following the canal.

Some twenty miles north her focal point reached a canyon between two plateaus, a break in the traps. Lacy pillars and arches lined the pale walls, and dark flecks on the cliff faces turned out to be caves. As she examined the canyon, she came across a place
where the stone walls twisted. A stretch of cliff faced due east. The rising sun picked out an arch and illuminated the cave behind it. Something stood there, and she thought it at first a giant Chof until its glittering green surface made her realize that it was a sculpture, and most likely that of a god, since it was large enough to be visible through a crystal.

She followed the canyon east. It cut all the way through the plateau and debouched into a narrow valley. Here and there in the tall grass she saw things moving, but every time she focused down she found only animals, mostly the small blue and white browzars, occasionally a yap-pack. In the sky birds flew, tiny dots within the crystal, perhaps the kri altri that the Chof so hated. She was about to close down when at last she saw Soutan’s little gang of H’mai and Chof, travelling north. Just before the image dissolved, Ammadin saw Soutan dismount and turn to rummage in the saddlebags slung over his saddle’s horn.

‘Ammi?’ Zayn’s voice cut into her concentration. ‘Here’s your shirt. Someone’s coming.’

She looked up and saw Loy heading their way. Zayn was holding out the shirt at arm’s length.

‘It’s only Loy,’ Ammadin said.

‘Ammi!’ He sounded so distressed that she took the shirt and slipped it over her head.

‘Ammi?’ Loy called out. ‘Water Woman says we should get on the road soon.’

‘Good. I just need to let my crystals recharge.’ Ammadin pulled the shirt’s hem down to her hips. ‘I’ve found Soutan. He’s a good long way ahead of us.’

‘Soon’ in a Chof context turned out to mean ‘in several hours or at least by noon’. Water Woman had several elaborate farewells to make. First, while the Great Mother watched, she and Herbgather Woman bowed repeatedly to one another. They clasped pseudo-hands, then briefly – perhaps as briefly as the Great Mother would allow – and twined their long necks together. After a last bow, Herbgather Woman rounded up her people and disappeared with them inside the houses.

The H’mai, their horses, and the Chur all stood in a long line at the edge of the village and waited for the most important farewell. Water Woman stood at the edge of the Great Mother’s ground cloth and alternately lowered her head and spoke at some
length. At last the Great Mother thrummed; Water Woman made one last bob of her head and turned away.

‘We go-now.’ Water Woman strode over to take her place at the head of the line. ‘We see-soon Sibyl. At last!’

‘At last, yes,’ Ammadin said. ‘Did Loy tell you that Soutan’s way ahead of us?’

‘She tell-then, yes. I worry-not. He have power to reach Sibyl’s cave, but she have power to keep him out of it. She have doors, and she know how to lock them. So now, we go-onward!’ Water Woman thrummed, and her odd little caravan set off.

They followed the canal north. Away from the secret roads, the Chof travelled slowly, plodding along, talking with each other, booming and thrumming, pausing often to drink or to splash around in the water to cool themselves. Late in the afternoon Stronghunter Man took five of his spear Chur and set off to hunt, and at that point travel slowed further. Water Woman began to look for a suitable campsite.

‘We’re going to crawl the whole fucking way, aren’t we?’ Loy said in Tekspeak. ‘I can’t believe this.’

‘You Cantonneurs are always in a hurry,’ Ammadin said.

‘Well, it’s because of Yarl. This is my chance to catch the bastard.’

While Water Woman’s servants were setting up camp, Ammadin and Loy hunted for Soutan. Ammadin found the canyon and the valley easily enough, but Yarl and his Chof proved more elusive. Slowly and carefully she moved the crystal’s focus along the base of the cliffs.

‘Damn him!’ Ammadin said. ‘He might be hiding inside one of the caves.’

‘I wonder if Sibyl’s put a trace on him,’ Loy said. ‘She could possibly use that imp of Arkazo’s. Try it.’

‘Try what?’

‘The trace command. Sorry, I see you don’t know that one. Say, “jump to tracking crystal”.’

BOOK: Snare
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