The Outskirter's Secret (46 page)

Rowan considered the life Efraim had
previously led, and thought his legend not at all surprising. The
Outskirts, indifferent and dangerous, showed no kindness to
humans.

A
week later,
Fletcher's morning prayers were interrupted. The tribe was in fair
pastures, planning to stay only a week. Fletcher had removed
himself from camp, seeking a private place where he would be hidden
from casual view, as was his habit. Rowan watched him depart, then
turned to see about breakfast. She passed a relay on duty, but
stopped when she saw the woman signal: "Understood." The relay then
signaled wider, to a person farther distant: "Position seven," and
the signal meaning direct address, and one requesting confirmation
of previous information. While waiting for reply, the relay glanced
away briefly and spoke to the person nearest, who was Rowan. "Get
Kammeryn."

By the time Rowan returned with the seyoh,
the relay was hard at work receiving signals from three different
points. Fletcher was visible, wading through the grass toward camp.
"Report," Kammeryn said to the relay.

"Fletcher spotted some movement on the veldt,
far off, between positions seven and six. Shortly after, outer
seven confirmed. Now outer six, seven, and eight have three sources
of motion, one of them recognized as human."

The seyoh nodded curtly, then spoke to his
aide. "Have the word passed to twelve-side. Take three people from
Kree's band as extra relays." The aide went, at a run. Kammeryn
gestured to a nearby mertutial. "Tell Anniss to gather the
children."

Fletcher arrived at the camp, loping along in
his usual gait. Rowan was not fooled by his nonchalance; his eyes
were a shade wider, and when he reached her side she saw the
tension in his muscles. He was nervous.

The news was now all across the camp.
Warriors were assembling nearby, their chiefs waiting for the
seyoh's instructions.

Orranyn's band and the rest of Kree's were
nearest. Rowan heard Jann ask someone, "Where did he spot the
movement?"

"Between six and seven," someone replied,
aggrievedly, as if Jann had been told already.

"No, how far out?"

"Near the outer circle," one of Kree's band
replied a bit smugly.

Rowan spared a glance from the signaling and
noted Jann glowering in Fletcher's direction. But beside her,
Jaffry was reluctantly impressed. "Sharp eyes," he commented.

"Fletcher, what do you say?" Kree's warrior
called. "Did your god tell you where to look?" But it was a
friendly gibe, almost a boast on Fletcher's behalf.

Fletcher ignored the man. He was reading the
signals intently. He caught Rowan watching him. "I'm thinking," he
explained. "Three people. Depending on how they're deployed, it
might be three scouts from an approaching tribe. We'd see their
outer line soon."

Bel joined Kree's people. "There's nothing on
twelve-side," she informed Kammeryn. The seyoh nodded
abstractedly.

Eventually, more signals: a fourth person was
sighted, and a moment later, three more beyond. "It's a tribe,"
Kammeryn said.

And a moment later, his eyes narrowed. Bel
translated the signal Rowan had missed: "They're making camp."

Under such circumstances, Kammeryn's tribe
must move or fight. Rowan helped in the preparations around the
camp for both eventualities, and the tribe waited for Kammeryn's
decision.

Rowan's first clue that something new had
occurred was the sight of Jann striding angrily by, hissing with
fury to a comrade following her, who seemed perplexed by her
anger.

Rowan watched them pass, thought, and
returned to where she had left Kammeryn.

He was still there, with Kree and three more
of her band, including Bel. "What's happening?"

Bel nodded toward position seven. "They sent
one man in our direction, alone. It looks like they want to talk.
Kammeryn sent Fletcher to meet him."

This was the source of Jann's outrage:
Kammeryn's respect for the Inner Lander made even more
manifest.

Fletcher was far beyond sight. His
experiences were communicated by relay: outer circle, to inner, to
the woman on duty beside Kammeryn.

The first signal was from Fletcher himself,
stating that he had reached outer seven's position. Outer seven
then signaled that Fletcher had passed and was approaching the
waiting stranger, and that the two members of Kree's band who had
accompanied him were moving into hidden positions.

Fletcher's next signal stated that the proper
forms for approaching a member of a strange tribe were being
observed.

There was a long pause as Fletcher conducted
his conversation with the unknown person. Then came: "Meeting
requested stranger. Approach to camp requested."

"For what reason?" Kammeryn said to the
relay; and the question was sent across the veldt.

Reply consisted of that special signal which
indicated that no existing signal corresponded to the requested
information.

Kammeryn thought. "Is this man absolutely
alone?" The signal went to seven, to six and eight, to a scout
posted past eight, to the hidden guards. Confirmation was received
from all except the guards, who would break cover only to reply in
the negative. "Is there still no sign of more strangers elsewhere
around our perimeter?" The question crossed the camp, spread
outward in all directions. There was no sign of others. "Ask
Fletcher for his own opinion."

The necessary terseness of the reply lent the
distant Fletcher the illusion of authority. "Comply."

An hour later, Fletcher, the guards, and the
stranger neared the edge of camp. The stranger was a Face
Person.

When they arrived, Kammeryn stepped forward
to meet the man; but Fletcher, with a wry expression, told him,
"He's not looking for you, seyoh."

The small man stopped and planted his feet
firmly. "I am looking for Rowan, called the steerswoman," he
said.

Rowan exchanged a glance with Bel, then
stepped forward. "I am Rowan."

The envoy looked up at her. "You must come
and speak to my seyoh."

Rowan considered. "Why?" she asked
cautiously.

"I do not know. He says to me, bring the
steerswoman."

"I'm sorry," Rowan told him, "but I'll need a
good reason. You must excuse me for being cautious, but I don't
want to walk into some sort of trap."

"He promises no danger to you. You may come,
and then you may go." He looked askance at Bel, Fletcher, Kammeryn,
the many other watchers all around. "I wish to leave now. I do not
like to be here."

Rowan turned to Bel. "What's your
opinion?"

Bel addressed the Face Person directly. "Was
it your tribe that we met at Rendezvous?"

"Rendezvous?"

"Yes." Bel became exasperated. "Two weeks
ago."

"We were there."

Bel's mouth twisted. "I don't like it," she
told Rowan, "but perhaps this means that their seyoh has changed
his mind. He'd want to tell us personally."

"That may be the case . . ."

"All right, then. But let's bring some
reinforcements. Kammeryn?"

The seyoh nodded, scanned the people nearby.
"Fletcher," he said immediately, "and Kree—"

"No," the stranger said, brows knit. "Only
the steerswoman."

There was silence. "Certainly," Rowan said to
the man, "this concerns Bel, as well. And I'm sure you can
understand that we'd be more comfortable with just a few of
Kammeryn's people nearby."

"No. My seyoh says, only the steerswoman." He
squinted at her. "That is you."

The steerswoman sighed, and thought. Bel
watched her a moment. "Don't," the Outskirter said, definitely.

"Kammeryn?"

The seyoh shook his head. "I cannot command
you. But I advise that you send this man on his way." Fletcher
contributed no advice; but his eyes showed his evaluation of the
idea.

"A hostage," a voice said, from behind
Rowan.

She turned. It was Efraim. "You must ask for
a hostage," he stated, "to guarantee the promise. Ask for a woman,
or a girl child."

The envoy seemed to recognize Efraim as one
of his own kind and gaped at him in outraged betrayal. "No!"

"They will never harm you, if we have their
woman."

The threat decided the envoy. He thrust out
his chin. "You refuse. I will leave now," he announced, and turned
to depart.

"Wait," Rowan called. He halted, watching
with narrowed gaze. The steerswoman said to her friends and to
Kammeryn, "I think I should go."

"No," Bel said, all glower.

Fletcher was equally suspicious. "Why only
you? Why can't you bring at least Bel, or me, or someone?"

"I don't know, and I don't think this fellow
can tell me. But I'm curious; there's something about the seyoh of
that tribe . . ." Trying to identify the source of her impression,
Rowan reconstructed in her mind the meeting of the seyohs at
Rendezvous. She had it. "At the meeting," she said to Bel, "he
never refused my questions."

Bel considered the fact irrelevant.
"And?"

"He refused yours, and Kammeryn's—everyone's
at some point; but never mine."

"You're willing to trust him simply because
he answered all your questions?" Bel clearly considered the notion
mad.

"Well," Rowan said, "yes. Some of those
questions were ones he wasn't pleased to answer; but he did, and
only at my request. Why would he now, suddenly, wish me ill?"

Bel glared and planted her fists on her hips.
"Now he regrets saying anything at all, and wants to kill you to
keep his secrets quiet. You know that he and his tribe, and all the
Face People have come out of the Face to prey on the rest of us. He
doesn't want the news spread."

Rowan shook her head. "But you know it, and
the other seyohs. That can't be his motivation." She spoke to the
nervous envoy. "I'll come back with you."

But Kammeryn stepped between them and
addressed the man. "We will send two warriors with the
steerswoman," he announced. "They will wait outside your camp. They
won't enter."

"No. Only her."

The seyoh set his mouth. "One warrior, who
will stop and wait on this side of your inner circle."

"No." The envoy dismissed Kammeryn. "Do you
come?" he asked Rowan.

She drew a breath and spread her hands
apologetically to her friends. "Yes," she told the Face Person, "I
come."

The Face People's camp looked deserted. The
only signs of human presence were sounds: a few quiet voices,
rising from somewhere beyond her sight, or perhaps from within the
tents. The fire pit, when she and her escort reached it, was doused
but still warm, cooking implements set nearby, as if abandoned the
instant Rowan entered the camp.

At the seyoh's tent, she finally found more
people: guards at either side of the entrance. Recalling her first
meeting with Kammeryn, she relinquished her weapons to them without
their needing to ask.

Inside were the familiar Outskirter
furnishings: patterned rug and cushion, stiff fabric box, a bedroll
folded out of the way against one wall. The decoration was simpler
than in Kammeryn's tribe, and shades of blue and red predominated;
Rowan surmised abundances of lichen-towers and flatwort out on the
Face.

The seyoh of the tribe sat on the carpet,
again toying with his queue, pretending nonchalance. He glanced up
at her once, then gestured her to a seat.

Rowan searched for an appropriate opening
statement to make under such circumstances; she failed, and
reverted to Inner Lands politeness. "And how may I help you?"

"I will ask you some things," the seyoh
declared, seeming to address the statement to his braid. He paused,
then spoke less definitely. " . . . and you will answer with the
truth, always?" He puzzled, studying the knotted end of the
queue.

She found his habit annoying. "That's
correct," she replied. "Because I require that people always speak
the truth to me, I'm bound to always speak the truth to them.
Because I require them to answer any question I ask, I must answer
any question they should ask. It's the way my honor works, and the
honor of all steerswomen."

He considered this. "You know that the names
of all Outskirters are guarded. If I asked you the names of persons
in the tribe with which you travel, if I dared to do such a thing,
would you then answer me?"

The steerswoman sat quite still. If he did
ask, and she supplied the names, he or one of his men could use the
information to gain entry to the camp, under the deception that the
owner of the name had trusted him and gave it freely. He could
attempt to assassinate Kammeryn, or the children; or to signal his
own tribe when conditions favored an attack.

Kammeryn's people were her friends; she would
not willingly cause them to come to harm.

Years earlier, while she had been a candidate
at the Steerswomen's Academy, there had been a rumor in circulation
among the students: the tale of a steerswoman who had been captured
by bandits and required to explain in detail the defenses of a
nearby village. Since the steerswoman could not know if the person
asking had previously lied to a steerswoman, she had no right to
refuse and was faced with a choice.

The rumor had several alternative endings:
the steerswoman answered, resulting in the town's destruction and
causing her to take her own life in remorse; she answered, then
escaped to warn the town; she answered with a lie, and on her
release immediately resigned the order (or again took her own life,
in yet another version); she refused to answer and was tortured and
killed by the bandits.

The tale was generally regarded as
apocryphal: there was no way to verify the events. Nevertheless, it
caused a great deal of discussion among the students, as a
hypothetical case, and they debated the options with the fierce,
fresh, intellectual enthusiasm of the young.