Firehand

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Firehand Page 18

by Andre Norton


  cause. They endured quite enough hardship in the normal course of their

  lives without his adding to their burdens.

  The partisans stopped where they were when darkness began to fall

  despite the fact that the site offered little in the way of comfort. They knew

  the region in which they traveled and realized they would find nothing

  better anywhere close by.

  At least, they were shielded in great part from the wind. They were in

  the lee of a high, very sheer cliff that broke the worst of its force. So

  effective was its screening, in fact, that a considerable amount of soil and

  softer matter clung to it, bound by the roots of the small, tough plants that

  had somehow found purchase there despite its almost perpendicular

  grade.

  None of this vegetation was high or very dense, and the rocks and great

  boulders marbling the cliffside were clearly visible, as were the scars left to

  show where some of them had torn free.

  Ross set their camp a fair distance from the cliff. Falls might not occur

  frequently, but the stones, some of them large, littering the ground near

  its base were proof enough that heavy material did occasionally break

  loose and come down. He was particularly inclined to show caution now.

  After a day's constant rain, that soil up there was likely to be wet through

  and maybe somewhat less stable, less able to bear weight against the draw

  of gravity, than would normally be the case.

  A Aldar scowled when he saw where they were to settle. "We would

  have better shelter closer to the cliff," he protested, "and those two hollows

  there would let the ones not on watch sleep dry and out of the wind. The

  bigger of them would hold two of us."

  "Some of that rock could too easily fall."

  "The ground might tremble and open beneath us, too! If fate wants to

  take us that way, she will do so, Firehand's precautions be damned!"

  The gray eyes turned cold. "Sleep where you will! I've issued no

  commands on the subject," he snapped, then pointedly turned his

  attention away from the other.

  The Dominionite went to the larger of the two indentations to which he

  had referred as soon as the usual work of the camp had been completed.

  His watch did not come until Eveleen's was done, and he could hope for

  several hours of solid sleep before he was summoned, a considerably better

  sleep than any of his comrades would enjoy, however weariness might

  blunt the discomforts of their beds.

  Ross could scarcely grip his temper even after he had left the others to

  take up his turn at guard, and he gave thanks that none of their foes

  strayed here. With this dark, violent passion so strongly in possession of

  him, he would have been hard pressed to detect any sort of even minimally

  subtle approach.

  He strove to quell the emotion sending the blood surging through his

  veins, knowing it to be sharp beyond the affront calling it forth.

  The Terran understood well enough why he was reacting like this. The

  day had been a miserable, tiring one, and he was beginning to feel the

  backlash of the strain that always accompanied service in the Funnel. A

  night's proper sleep was what he actually needed to set him right, but

  until he was free to seek that, he would have to keep himself under very

  tight check. To his great discredit, he had given way once this night and

  had no wish to repeat that failing a second time, maybe with even less

  cause.

  A dull rumble tore through the night, followed almost in the same

  instant by a heart-deadening crash.

  The blood drained from the Time Agent's face. He raced for the camp,

  the certainty of disaster crushing him like a sentence from the judgment

  chamber of Dominion's Goddess.

  It was too well founded. A great stone, a boulder larger than any of the

  others that had come down before it, had fallen from the cliff to settle

  against the place where the rebellious Lieutenant had chosen to pass the

  night. Whether it had broken him beneath its mass or merely trapped him

  inside could not as yet be determined.

  Ross's mouth was a hard line. It could well be that the former was the

  kinder alternative.

  He found no comfort in Gordon's expression when the archeologist

  turned to give him report. "It's wedged solid. We can't tell whether he's

  alive, and no air's getting to him if he is. Either we pull him out fast, or we

  might as well not bother."

  His partner nodded grimly. That hole was very small. It would not hold

  any great supply of oxygen even for one lying prone and inactive, as the

  prisoner must.

  He thought suddenly that it made an excellent tomb.

  Murdock gave no voice to that. Allran needed better from him than

  despair.

  He bent to study the boulder and the ground around it.

  Bad. Very bad. The land sloped inward toward the cliff, very slightly,

  perhaps, but still perceptibly, and it was ridged besides so that the great

  plug was fairly effectively locked in place. It had holed the ground in its

  striking, too. Fortunately, the latter was itself very hard, and the

  indentation was slight, but coupled with all the rest and with the weight of

  the missile, it could too well be enough to defeat them.

  He straightened. There was only one real chance that he could see. "Get

  a couple of the deer. Fasten them to it." He wished they could have used all

  of the animals, but there was no room for more than a pair of them to

  maneuver and not enough line to fashion a harness for them even if there

  were.

  His comrades ran to obey.

  "You think they'll be able to pull it out?" Eveleen asked doubtfully as she

  returned with two of their mounts.

  "Out, no. They may be able to haul it lengthways along the wall, far

  enough for us to drag him free."

  "A team can't work that way," Ashe told him, "not with the kind of rope

  harness we'll have to improvise. The path along which they'll have to draw

  is too narrow. They'd only be pulling against each other."

  "We have enough rope to harness them in line, one before the other."

  The older man nodded slowly. "Yes," he said softly. "That might just do

  it."

  Working with the speed of desperation, the three soon had the animals

  readied for the attempt.

  The wardeer strained until it seemed that the ropes must surely snap.

  The stone shivered, moved the barest fraction, then settled back again.

  Ross and Gordon threw themselves behind it.

  The weapons expert caught Spark's bridle. Fear knotted in her

  stomach. If that huge thing moved a little space only to roll back again,

  both men, off balance as they would be, would almost certainly be pinned

  beneath it.

  She called out to the springdeer, and once more, they set themselves

  against the enormous rock.

  Murdock pushed on the stone. His full strength seemed as nothing, but

  he only forced himself the harder.

  He could sense more than see Ashe straining beside him, but he, too,

  appeared to be powerless…

  The boulder slipped, edged away from its crater.

  Eveleen left her pl
ace with the deer. She was beside the men now,

  waiting, watching.

  Inch by agonizing slow inch, it moved, farther and ever farther. How

  much of the entrance would have to be exposed before the captive—or

  what remained of him—was free?

  The cave opened!

  The woman darted inside, caught what she found there, and drew it

  forth, away from the path the boulder had scraped on the ground.

  "He's clear! Jump!"

  Both men sprang aside. Ross caught the archeologist's arm to hasten

  his retreat. The great stone fought the advance it had been forced to make

  against the slope of the ground, and he doubted the deer would be able to

  hold it once deprived of the humans' support.

  They could not. He saw them begin to slide back themselves and called

  out a command of release lest the valiant creatures injure themselves in

  their attempt to remain firm.

  He reached them even as he spoke and slashed through their ropes with

  a quick stroke of his sword.

  The rock stood as if frozen for a second's fraction, then rolled back

  along the scar that marked its passage over the hard ground to strike

  heavily against the cliff side once more.

  The commander did not watch it hit. His comrades were bent over

  Allran's ominously still form, and he hastened to them.

  Eveleen looked up. "He'll be all right. It clipped him when it came

  down, but he's not much hurt. He should be returning to us shortly."

  "Praise Life's Queen for that… I'd best see to the deer. You two, stay

  with him."

  Ross remained a long time with the mounts, which had been pastured

  several yards away from their riders, and Eveleen at last left her other

  companions to join him.

  "Were they hurt?" she inquired anxiously.

  "No, thanks to you and Gordon. You did a good job harnessing them…

  How's Allran?"

  "Well enough. His head's sore, and he's ashamed." Her eyes fixed him.

  "Why are you avoiding us?"

  The man turned away from her. "I don't know how I can face him

  again. I knew that the danger of this place was real, yet I permitted him to

  walk straight into it."

  "Stop being such an ass!" she snapped irritably. "You were tired and

  thoroughly miserable. Allran nettled you, and you responded to that. What

  of it? We're all very well aware already of your fallibility, and it doesn't

  hurt any of us to have it forced on your own attention now and then."

  Her chin lifted as he whirled about. "Blast me for insubordination if

  you will, but listen and listen good first! If you persist with this nonsense,

  you'll quite effectively kill any hope of reconciliation with Allran and will

  probably succeed in ruining him besides. He's certain to read your

  behavior as your condemnation of him because of his stupidity and fail

  utterly to recognize it merely as a mark of your own."

  Anger flared through Ross, but it quickly cooled. "No man likes to hear

  that, particularly when it's true."

  He took a deep breath, held it, and released it slowly. Feeling calmer

  now, he forcibly fixed his thoughts on the problem before him. "You're

  skilled at wagging your tongue, Lieutenant. Do you think Allran would

  listen to you if you explained to him that I see myself as disgraced by my

  own part in this affair and ask that he come to me tomorrow after we've

  reached our camp and have rested a little?"

  Her eyes narrowed. "I do if I were willing to abase you. I'm not." The

  man smiled. "Peace, Guardian. As you yourself have said, he knows I've

  been avoiding you tonight. He might as well know why."

  "Very well," Eveleen replied, "but there's none of us—especially not

  Allran—who's going to allow you to accept blame for any of this."

  Her tone softened. "You will come back with me now?"

  "Yes." Murdock smiled. "Do you imagine I'm going to sulk out here all

  night and leave the heat of the fire to you three?"

  "Who can fathom Firehand's reasoning?" she replied, and then,

  laughing softly, turned and started back toward their comrades.

  It was late afternoon before Allran A Aldar was finally able to bring

  himself to enter his commander's cabin.

  He closed the door quickly behind him to shut out the lashing rain and

  hung his cloak on the peg fastened to it for that purpose. Water ran from

  it in small rivers.

  Ross looked up from the papers covering his desk. He hoped he did not

  look as nervous as he felt. This was not the kind of work Ross Murdock

  did, but it was a commander's business, as much so as was physically

  fighting the war he was here to wage. He could not delegate it to anyone,

  not even to Gordon, and he could not weasel out of it. He had only to do it

  and do it well, for the sake of this young man and for the cause they both

  supported.

  "I was beginning to think I'd have to go looking for you," he said. "Come

  over here and let the fire drive some of the chill out of you."

  The other complied but did not relax despite his chief's easy attitude.

  He came to stiff attention before him. "Captain A Murdoc, I realize full

  well that my conduct at the end of our mission can earn me only

  contempt. If I had died last night, it should only have been my due."

  "Hardly that," Ross replied grimly, "and the loss of your services would

  certainly not have been the due of the rest of us." Murdock's expression

  tightened. "Not even mine, although my role was anything but

  creditable…"

  "No! Eveleeni told me about that. If the danger had been so obvious,

  would she or Gordon not have seen it also and have prevented me from

  exposing myself?"

  The commander smiled. "They would, and with that, I think we must

  close this subject of reproach, both of us. It'll accomplish nothing

  whatsoever to continue flogging ourselves."

  The Lieutenant sat down now. "I wish I knew what has been driving

  me, setting me against you. I do not will that my temper should ever be so

  quick to rise."

  "You want command of Sapphirehold's garrison and are more than

  capable of carrying it, and you know I'll remain between you and that

  authority as long as I stay in Ton I Loran's service."

  "I cannot replace Firehand! Even were my vanity as great as one of

  these mountains, I surely must recognize that!"

  "But the war—and with it, the need for my special skills—will soon end,

  isn't that right?"

  Ross leaned forward in his chair. "I'm a mercenary, Comrade. Even

  after all our time together, you don't realize what that means. I can't stay

  here. What purpose would I serve? Once Condor Hall is defeated and I see

  Sapphirehold secure, I'll ride. It's inconceivable that I should do anything

  else."

  His companion was silent a long time. "It speaks ill for my honor, but I

  concede that you have read me accurately," he responded slowly at the end

  of that time. "I did not realize this moved me before."

  "The reaction's a normal one. Your honor's high enough that it wouldn't

  permit you to recognize it sooner."

  "You believe there is some hope that I shall eventually be given

  command?"
<
br />   "I've already recommended that."

  Murdock's pale eyes held A Aldar's. "You're a good officer, Allran. You

  tend to be impetuous, but you're rarely thoughtless and never where those

  serving beneath you are concerned. You inspire confidence. You're just in

  your judgments. You plan well in council and respond quickly and

  appropriately when there's need for sudden change or action."

  Ross shrugged. "Waiting even a year or two longer'll be rather to your

  advantage than otherwise. You're young. Even though our people know

  your worth, some of the older men could resent serving beneath one so

  much their junior. The passing of a bit more time will completely lift that

  potential difficulty from you."

  He paused. "Does what I've said sound reasonable to you?"

  "Reasonable to my mind. Reasonable to my heart… Rossin, I am sorry.

  You are too good a friend to Sapphirehold and to me personally for this

  darkness to have risen up between us."

  "Forget it. As Eveleeni feels compelled to remind me, we're only

  human."

  Ross glanced at the papers on his desk with a sigh that was only partly

  voluntary. "Go on now. I imagine you have scarcely less than this to

  occupy you, and if you're as beat as I am, you won't be wanting to pass the

  better part of tonight working at it."

  24

  THERE WAS LITTLE to mark the following four days. The weather

  remained extremely ugly with nearly constant, heavy rain accompanied by

  high winds and, frequently, by sleet.

  It cleared a little on the morning of the fifth day, although it was still

  bitterly cold and the sky remained heavy and leaden.

  Ross determined to take a small patrol out despite the threat of more

  foul weather. He wanted to examine the Corridor for the effect of the

  recent rains. Parts of it turned to mire after severe, long-term wetting and

  could become bad enough to prevent the passage of wagons. At this time

  of year, such conditions, once established, could be expected to hold right

  to the first snows. If Zanthor I Yoroc wished to move goods then, he would

  be compelled to use pack animals until the winter put an end to all travel.

  That would force a significant change in the partisans' work as well; even

  heavily laden beasts could still move more quickly than vehicles and could

  traverse a considerably wider range of terrain, although a train of them

  could not bear nearly as much weight as could a similar number of

 

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