The River Wall (27 page)

“You would face Ferrathyn alone?” he asked.

“Not
face
him,” I assured the old man, “but, as I said,
scout
him. How often have we said that we know too little about him, and about his plans? And we certainly know too little of what is really happening in Raithskar.

“Tarani and I have the best chance to get into Raithskar undetected,” I said. “And that’s about as far as we can plan right now, because our next actions will depend on what we find there.”

“But you do mean to send for the Sharith?” Zanek said.

“If they are needed,” I said. “I have a feeling that they will be needed badly.”

Zanek shook his head. “If the Lieutenant is an information source for Ferrathyn,” he said, “I see no substantial difference between his knowing your full plans and his knowing that
you
are in Raithskar, attempting to learn Ferrathyn’s plans.”

“You’re right,” I admitted. “So we may have to lie to him by omission—he won’t know we’re in Raithskar. He may come to suspect it, but if Ferrathyn is ‘listening in,’ that can only serve to keep him nervous.”

“How can we hide our going?” Tarani demanded.

“Zanek,” I said, “will you go back to Thagorn immediately? Keeshah will take you, in fact, if—” I stopped at the look on Zanek’s face, and remembered that he had once been a Rider, but his sha’um had left him voluntarily, to allow him to concentrate on the serious and time-consuming business of the new Kingdom.

“It’s only to be sure you reach Thymas before he returns here,” I said, “and Keeshahs presence will lend credence to what you’ll tell Thymas.”

“Which will be …?”

“Part of what we’ve mentioned—that the Sharith need some time to get acclimated to the new circumstances, and that Tarani and I will be resting and”—I took her hand; she pressed mine and flashed me a quick smile—“getting reacquainted after our long separation. He’ll respect that, and leave us alone for a few days.”

Now Zanek stood up, and he paced around the room, out the door, came back in. “I must say I have somewhat more regard, now,” he said, “for the people who followed my orders without question. I do not wish to remain behind, Rikardon.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’d like to have you with us, Zanek,” I said sincerely. “But here again, I’m trying to play the odds. If Thymas is
not
connected to Ferrathyn, then Ferrathyn has no idea that you’re back, and it would be to our advantage to keep that a surprise as long as possible. If you go to Raithskar with us, you’ll be going into range to be contacted directly by Ferrathyn.”

Finally, he nodded and sighed. “Yes, I see the sense of it,” he agreed. “But I have one more question,” he said, and I waited. “Assume—as we all truly believe—that Thymas is
not
Ferrathyn’s channel. In Raithskar, you feel the need to summon the Sharith, so you visit a maufel, who sends a message to Thagorn—despite the fact that the Fa’aldu would be violating their own taboo against visiting the stronghold of the Sharith. Ferrathyn catches the thought and the message from the maufel, and is warned of our movement. Will not all your effort toward surprise be wasted?”

“It would be,” I agreed, “if we planned to send a message with a maufa. The cubs will be with us; one of them will carry messages for you, and only you. Not as fast as a message bird, of course, but fast enough.”

“Then you have satisfied all my practical objections,” Zanek said, “even though my feelings still want to go with you.” He slapped my shoulder, his hand lingering to squeeze it for a moment. There was a rough affection and respect in the gesture that caused my throat to tighten up. “I shall do my best with Thymas—deceive him when I must, help him where I can. If you will call Keeshah and direct him, I will be on my way.”

He turned to Tarani and held out his other hand, which she took. “Care for yourselves well, my friends. I regret the pain I have caused you, but I cannot regret that you are here. I hope we shall be together again soon.”

“In a world free of Ferrathyn’s threat,” Tarani added. She looked odd and awkward for a moment, then dropped Zanek’s hand and threw her arms around his neck. He staggered back a step, caught his balance, and returned the hug with as much force as it was given.

After a moment, Tarani stepped back, and said in a shaky voice: “Waste no time in regret, King Zanek,” she said. “Both Antonia and Tarani have gained more than any cost, past or future, can match. I am content.”

Zanek nodded sharply once, then again, and finally turned away from Tarani to go outside. I followed him out, and was standing beside him when Keeshah bounded from the edge of the clearing to crouch in front of us. Zanek walked toward the big cat, his hands clenched into fists, his arms trembling. He stopped, just before mounting.

I had already asked Keeshah about taking Zanek into Thagorn, and he had agreed.

*Man coming?*
Keeshah wondered, turning his head as far as he could to watch Zanek.
* Hurry.*

*Give him a moment, Keeshah. This is hard for him.*

*Boring
,* Keeshah snorted, and turned forward, stretched his neck, and laid his head on his forepaws. The muscles of his legs and along his flank relaxed, and his body settled to the ground.

*Keeshah, don’t—do you want to insult him?*
I demanded in a panic. But Zanek only laughed, and some of the tension in his body seemed to leave with Keeshah’s.

“Sometimes it is easy to guess what a sha’um is thinking,” he said. “I apologize for the delay, but …”

His voice trailed off, and I said: “I think I understand. You once gave up a sha’um.”

“No,” he said in a soft, almost guilty voice. “I gave up
two.
“

“Doral?” I asked. “I saw him in the Valley, but he was out of reach. When I found out Dharak was really gone, I figured Doral had sensed his passing, even through the instinctive barrier. I don’t know it, of course, but I would suspect that a sha’um who loses his or her Rider would be more stubbornly wild thereafter than those who had never been bonded.”

“I suspect you are right,” Zanek said. “As you were right about the bond continuing, even though contact seemed to be broken. I did … feel Doral. The shock of Dharak’s leaving restimulated the contact, and he was … inquiring and curious. Grieving, yes—but I believe he would have been willing to accept me in Dharak’s place.”

He held his arms in a pained-looking huddle.

“I could not accept, Rikardon. I may not be King now, but the situation is the same—I need my full attention for this task. I knew that, long before I knew what the task was. I could not accept Doral’s friendship. Once before, a sha’um had stayed in the Valley. This time is worse, much worse. Because of me, Doral will die.”

What can I do?
I asked myself, hurting for the man standing beside me.
Give him time. That’s all.

He straightened himself suddenly, and took a deep breath.

“Doral will remain a treasured and sad memory,” he said, “but dwelling on the past has no profit for me now. Please tell Keeshah that I am grateful for his service, and will try to ride smoothly.”

I told him. He lifted his head and tightened his muscles in preparation, and Zanek mounted expertly. Keeshah rose, walked a few cautious steps to become accustomed to the slightly different weight pattern, then set off down the pathway that had been cut to our house from the caravan road.

*Come back as quickly as you can,*
I told the big cat.
*We need to start for Raithskar soon.*

*Home?*
Keeshah asked me as he disappeared from sight on the twisty path.
*Glad. Back soon.*

I stood there for a moment, staring at the edge of the clearing, wondering what Zanek was feeling, and wondering what we would find when we got “home.”

In spite of the fact that neither Tarani nor I had benefited from much sleep the night before, we set out for Raithskar with a renewed energy. The sha’um had rested well, and we were able to nap through the first day as Keeshah and Yayshah carried us north.

As on our most recent trip to Raithskar—during which Yayshah had been heavily pregnant—we followed the green fringe of land around the Kapiral Desert, north through the Morkadahl foothills, then west toward Raithskar. While we did not have Yayshah’s temporary disability to contend with, we did have four sha’um mouths to feed, and the only practical solution was to remain in areas where they could hunt for themselves.

Tarani and I talked frequently during our traveling breaks, trying to decide on a plan for when we reached Raithskar. In the final analysis, however, we could make no definite decisions until we got there.

One thing we could agree on readily: we could not take the chance of the presence of the sha’um provoking another attack by the vineh. Ferrathyn may have directed the massive attack of the apelike creatures outside Raithskar’s gates that had taken the life of one of Yayshah’s newborn cubs. But it seemed unlikely that Ferrathyn had been responsible for our encounter with wild vineh on the eastern side of Gandalara, between Grevor and Sulis. The vineh seemed to have an instinctive dislike for sha’um—probably left over from a time when the two had been natural enemies, when the slow evaporation of the Mediterranean had made the floor of Gandalara green with salt-adapted vegetation.

If the Raithskar vineh caught scent of the sha’um, not only would there be a ruckus that could easily endanger our friends, but whatever hope we had of visiting Raithskar undetected would be destroyed.

When we were still a full day’s ride from the city, Tarani and I dismounted in an abandoned dakathrenil orchard and prepared to walk the rest of the way to Raithskar. It was
not
a popular idea.

*Danger. I come,*
Keeshah said stubbornly.

The cubs were a perfect echo of their father.

*Don’t leave,*
Yoshah pleaded.

*Go with!*
insisted Koshah.

*Be reasonable,*
I said, speaking simultaneously to all three of them.
*You’ll just increase the danger by alerting the vineh *

Wrong move. All I got from that was a surge of savage joy at the prospect of battle. And for these sha’um, it was more than an age-old instinctive hatred.

*Killed other cub,*
Keeshah said.
*Fight*

*
No
—* I tried to argue.

*Grown now,*
Koshah boasted.
*Stronger. Not get hurt*

*Hurt me!*
Yoshah chorused.
*Fight!*

All four of the sha’um paced around us, their tails thickening and their neckfur rising. Yayshah seemed as active and eager as the others, and Tarani turned to me with panic in her eyes.

“I tried to explain about the vineh,” she said. “Rikardon, she
wants
to fight them.” I only gestured toward the pacing cats; her gaze followed the direction of my arm, and she gasped. “All of them? Look at them—they want to
attack
.” Her mouth tightened. “And I understand how Yayshah feels. I fear my arguments carry too little sincerity to be convincing.”

I reached out with my mind toward Keeshah, seeking the blended understanding we had shared so often. I was shocked when he avoided my attempt, mentally backing away from me. Thinking he had misunderstood, I tried again. He dodged again.

*Do what
I
want
,* he insisted resentfully.
*Fight
…* The sha’um did not use the word
vineh
to describe the creatures who had attacked Keeshah three different times, but the image he sent was powerful and real, and not the least self-deceptive about the strength and dangerousness of the vineh. It was blended with the trembling eagerness that made the sha’um such an effective fighter. Keeshah did not
care
about the danger to himself.

For the first time in our relationship, I made a deliberate effort to be scornful toward the big cat.

*I see,*
I said.
*You don’t care about revenge for the dead cub. You’re just spoiling for a good fight, no matter what that does to everybody else’s plans. Well, go ahead,*
I urged him. He stopped his pacing and stared at me, the silvery flecks in his eyes seeming to swirl as he considered.
*Go on!*
I said.

*
Go
,* he agreed abruptly, and leaped away. Yayshah and the cubs followed him.

“No!” Tarani cried. “Rikardon, stop them!”

“Wait,” I whispered, barely able to spare her that much explanation. I was trying desperately to conceal my own dread from Keeshah, and let him see only anger and contempt in my mind. I took Tarani’s hand and pulled her with me. We started walking east, back the way we had come.

Tarani walked with me, her head turned back to look over her shoulder. “Show anger, if you can,” I told her, keeping my face firmly forward, looking away from Raithskar.

“What?” she stammered, then recovered. “Oh, yes—I think I see. Yayshah is asking me where
we
are going.” She shuddered, but squared her shoulders forward. “A terrible risk,” she said, and squeezed my hand. I knew she was frightened—not for any “destiny” or “mission,” but, first and foremost, for the life and safety of her sha’um partner.

Tarani was right—it was a heart-hurting gamble. I kept my mind open to all three sha’um and tried to stay calm.

*Go where?*
Koshah asked me.

*Back to Thagorn
,* I snapped, and waited. Had my Gandalaran body been able to sweat, I would have been soaked by now.

*Just came,*
Yoshah said.
*Why go?*

*Because of you
,* I said, again letting all three sha’um hear the comment, and hating myself for the whiny, resentful, blame-laying attitude I was portraying.

It’s for a good cause
, I told myself.
If it works, they’ll understand why I’m doing it. If it doesn’t—well, by God, the words are true!

I chanced a “glance” along the links, and discovered that the sha’um, already out of eyesight distance from us, were no longer running. They were moving slowly, Yayshah in the lead, the cubs glancing back. Finally, Keeshahs curiosity got the better of his pride.