The Gandalara Cycle I (60 page)

Direct telepathy between Gandalarans was nearly unknown - but Gharlas said that the Ra'ira granted that power. I had to believe him. He'd said he had learned about the locked room where the Ra'ira was kept by reading Thanasset's mind. He had known about Rikardon without being told - I assumed that he had tried to read Markasset and had sensed the change.

I was fairly sure that he
couldn't
read me, or Tarani. She had proved in Dyskornis that her power could resist his. But that didn't let out the possibility of his being able to locate us, merely by the difference of our mind-patterns, or whatever. And it didn't protect us from Gharlas reading Thymas, who was more susceptible than either one of us.

So, useless as it was, I worried that Gharlas had traps laid for us ahead.

But I didn't waste my time worrying. By the time we reached Krasa, I had cut strips from the thin piece- of leather to fashion a belt. I worked the coins into the long pocket one at a time; when no more would fit; we buried the rest of them.

I was wearing that fortune in gold around my waist when I walked into Krasa to renew our supplies. The weight was a burden at first, but it gave me a feeling of satisfaction, that I had devised a way to conceal those coins. I wasn't entirely sure why I felt it necessary to take them to Eddarta, but I hadn't questioned the impulse.

We had left green, hilly forests behind in Dyskornis, and spent nearly two days in what I can only describe as scrub brush - not quite desert, but close. As we neared Krasa, the growth had turned green again, and I was walking through a lightly overgrown forest. There were wild
dakathrenil
here, the curly-trunked trees which, near Raithskar, were trained to an umbrella shape slightly taller than a man. Left to themselves, these wild ones sprawled on the ground like woody vines.

There were other kinds of trees here, too, and a variety of vines and flowers that I couldn't identify. I felt a familiar frustration over Markasset's disinterest in anything besides fighting, gambling, and Illia. This was a beautiful area, no less dramatic because it stood close in the shadow of the Great Wall.

I had already learned that the Great Wall was more or less a convention of Gandalaran thinking. Behind Raithskar, there was actually a
wall
- a sheer escarpment that vanished into overcast sky. Here, however, there were merely impassable mountains and those not noticeably steeper than the Korchis west of Dyskornis. Yet these mountains were considered to be a continuation of Raithskar's barrier, and the Korchis a range of mountains.

I was learning to accept those conventions, just as I had accepted the physical aspects of my situation. My body wasn't human -
Homo sapiens
would have been desiccated in hours by the intense desert heat that I hardly noticed anymore. I could accept the fact that I would probably never find out
how
Ricardo had been transferred to this world. But there was one mystery that returned to plague me again and again; Where
was
Gandalara?

I took so many things for granted in Gandalara that I often wondered why I couldn't just let
thi
s mystery lie, why the question circled around at the back of my mind and popped up at idle moments. I supposed it was this world's physical character, and its intriguing similarities to, and differences... from, Ricardo's earth.

The evolution of such similar species on two different worlds seemed impossible. It was coincidental; too, that Gandalara had a single moon and a twenty-eight-day lunar cycle. Yet Gandalara had too high levels of salt in its soil, and too little access to iron. And there was definitely
no
physical feature like the Great Wall anywhere in Ricardo's world.

Today I resolutely set aside the puzzle, so that I could enjoy my walk through the woods.

I heard a hooting call, and looked up to see Lonna, Tarani's bird companion, flying overhead. She swooped down and settled carefully on my shoulder, her big wings folding so that their tips crossed at the base of her tail. She was heavy, but I didn't mind - in fact, I was pleased that she had chosen me for company. I stroked the feathers on her breast as I walked, and she made a sound that was both mournful and contented.

*You don't mind if I make a friend of Lonna, do you, Keeshah?*
I asked.

*Girl is my friend,*
he pointed out, reminding me of a best-forgotten period of unrecognized jealousy.
*Bird, too.*

Lonna left me when Krasa came into sight through the trees. It was a small town, built mostly of wood and baked clay - the sort of place where you're a stranger until your family has lived there for three generations.

I had all the supplies I planned to buy, and was leaving a bakers, with fresh meat pastries, when someone behind me called my name.

"Rikardon?"

The voice wasn't familiar; the man it belonged to was walking toward me. He was short but stocky, with prominent supraorbital ridges, not much now, and a whole lot of scars on his arms and face.

I had heard no threat in his voice, but I turned around and kept my hand near my sword as I answered.

"I am Rikardon. May I ask who you are?"

The scarred face creased into a smile. 'You can ask me, or anyone in Krasa, son. My name is Ligor, and I'm what passes for the Chief of Peace and Security in this city I have a message for you - from Zaddorn. And some free advice - from me. Join me for a drink?"

"Sure. How about that place on the corner?"

"Good choice," he said, and we moved along the dirt surface of the street toward what Ricardo would have been called a diner. It served light meals that could be eaten on the premises or taken outside, provided you left a deposit on the dishes. It also served
faen,
the Gandalaran equivalent of beer, as did almost every restaurant.

It was just past midday, and there was a late-lunch crowd keeping the help busy. The number of people surprised me, and I resolved never to judge a town by its appearance again. Krasa looked to be a pretty lively place.

Ligor caught the eye of one of the workers behind the service counter, and two earthenware mugs of faen appeared on a table at the back of the room, even before we could work our way through to it.

I was impressed.

"Zaddorn doesn't even know I'm in Krasa - yet," I said. Thinking of the message I had sent from Dyskornis. Thanasset would tell Zaddorn where I was, so that he wouldn't be expecting me any day, to fill the job he had offered me.

"True, Ligor said. He opened a pouch at his belt, and took out a fragile-looking letter. The thin paper had been folded umpteen times, obviously in order to be suitable for a maufa to carry it. "Read this," Ligor said. "Easier than my telling you."

I unfolded it, and leaned toward the window to get more light on the angular Gandalaran characters.

“”Ligor, old friend. I need your help. A caravan master named Gharlas stole something important, something you'll recognize if you see it. He's a dangerous man, and it's imperative that he be stopped before he reaches Eddarta. I doubt that he'll come by your way, but if you hear anything at all of his movements, please let me know.

There's another person you might encounter, a fellow named Rikardon. You'll recognize him, too you knew him as Markasset. He left Raithskar today, and he may be following Gharlas. If you see him, trust him and help him all you can. And tell him, for me, that he's got the job, like it or not. I'm telling all my contacts to give him full cooperation.””

Terrific, I thought. Now I'm a deputy sheriff.

"So this is the message," I said. "Now what s the advice?" "Just this, son. Don't rely on any of that help he promised. Zaddorn doesn't know anything about this side of the world."

"How do you know Zaddorn? And - I'm sorry, but I don't remember you."

"Not much reason you should. It was always Zaddorn tagging after me, not the Supervisor's son." He took a sip of his faen. "I used to have Zaddorn's job.”

"He mentioned he took office just after Ferrathyn succeeded Bromer as Chief Supervisor."

"Yeah. Ferrathyn fired me."

I searched Markasset's memory for Raithskarian law. "He couldn't do that himself, could he?"

"No, it was all proper, with unanimous approval of the Council. But it was Ferrathyn who started it. I bear no grudge, mind you - it wasn't just because the old man and I didn't get on well, though that was for sure true. Mostly it was because I didn't fit the Peace and Security image the Council wanted for Raithskar. I did my job, but I didn't do it . . ."

He struggled to find the right word, and I provided one that seemed to fit: "Gracefully.”

He laughed and slapped the table. "That's it, exactly.”

"I didn't mean -"

"Don't worry about it, son. I know what I am, and what I'm not. Graceful, I'm not. I've got a lot of blunt edges. Zaddorn's a good man, keen as a sword. He cuts cleanly what I'd bruise to death.

"But, to get back to that free advice, he's got his limitations, too. One is, he trusts too much."

“Zaddorn?"

“Oh, not people in general. Nobody works in our business without getting to be naturally suspicious of everybody. But he thinks every Peace Officer is respected and has the kind of authority he has, with the Council to back him up.”

"And you're telling me he's wrong"

Ligor lifted his empty mug, and the same waiter appeared to refill both our drinks. The crowd was thinning out, and we could converse more comfortably.

"I'm telling you just that. He has his little list of Peace and Security Officers, and he writes to them, and he expects them all to be as conscientious and powerful as he is. He’s got a security force of better than two hundred men. How many men you think I got working for me”

I didn't have to think hard; he'd already telegraphed the answer. "None," I said, and he nodded.

"And I'm one of the good guys, the ones who try. Zaddorn’s other 'contacts' - some of them have moved, or they’re dead. Some of them might try to stop Gharlas, all right. They've got their own 'contacts' that can sell any . . .
important
thing they might find on his body.”

"Say it straight, Ligor," I said, a little impatiently.

"All right. What Zaddorn did, with letters like this," he tapped the parchment I still held in my hand, "is warn the whole countryside that you're on your way to Eddarta. Stay away from those Peace and Security people. If they cooperate with anybody, it will be Worfit."

"The reward.” In a flash vision. I saw the bloody face of the man who had tried to kill me for that same reward. I remembered the resistance against my sword as its blade passed through his body. I closed my eyes to block the vision.

After a moment, Ligor said: "You still going?"

"To Eddarta? Yes." I drained my mug, stood up and reached for my pouch. He put his hand out to stop me.

"No, you're my guest, son. Free food and faen are part of my wages. I don't often stand host; there aren't many folk around that I'd care to drink with. Zaddorn is one. Now there are two.” He stood up, slapped my arm, and gripped it for a moment. "Stay alive, boy. I'm looking forward to our next drink together.'

I'm not paranoid,
I thought.
Everybody really is out to get me.

It was the second morning after my talk with Ligor. We were camped within walking range of Grevor, and Thymas had just now left, on his way into town. I wouldn't say his exit had been graceful. "Snarly" might describe it better.

"What is
wrong
with him?" Tarani demanded. She was standing in the middle of the clearing, staring after the boy. "His body gets better, and his temper gets worse. Surely he knows the walk will help him." She put her hands on her hips and looked speculatively at me. "You know, don't you? What
is
wrong?"

I shrugged. "He didn't believe a word I said."

"It made perfect sense to me," she said. “I think you are right about Gharlas - if he left traps for us, I would be his main target. And your friend in Krasa warned you that every town has been alerted to watch for you. So Thymas is the only one left who can get supplies. How can he not agree with that reasoning?"

"I didn't say that he didn't see the logic of the arguments," I answered. "He wouldn't have gone at all, in that case. What I mean is he doesn't believe that any of that covers the real reason why I wanted him to go into town this time."

"Then what
does
he think?" she asked.

Can she really not know?
I wondered.
Sometimes she's twenty, going on forty-five, and other times she's so naive....
"That I wanted to be alone with you."

"That's ridiculous," she snorted. "You
are
alone with me, every night. There's nothing much that can wake him, once he's in the healing sleep."

"Maybe that's what's bothering him," I said.

She stared at me in confusion for the space of a heartbeat, and then blushed clear up to her widow's peak of dark, silky headfur. “Perhaps.” she said, sounding dangerous, "we should have a talk, the three of us when Thymas returns."

"Ordinarily, I'd say that was a good idea. But not this time His jealousy is only part of what's causing his mood, Tarani The main thing is that he isn't in control of any aspect of this situation. He can't make his body heal any faster. He agreed to take my orders, but he doesn't much like doing it He hates seeing you ride with me, but he knows you have to until Ronar gets stronger. And he can't hurry that along either”

Tarani’s arms dropped to her sides, and her eyes wide open. "You mean that he will
let
me ride with him? That Ronar will accept me?"

"He said as much, before we left Dyskornis. I believe him. But he did seem to have some doubt as to whether you'd want to ride with him."

"Want to? Of course I do." She stopped, then fumbled on.”I mean - Keeshah could use the rest."