Ice and Shadow

by Andre Norton

  “He’s right, you know,” he observed. “We have proof of the kidnapping, of the fact that he was being used against his will. He has claimed refuge under the Code of Harktapha—that has held since the first spacers met with his kind. We have no quarrel with Zacathans—their knowledge is ever at our service—their persons are diplomatically sacred—”

  “This one presumes too much!” the Patrol officer interrupted.

  “In your opinion—” The three words brought a sour silence from the captain. His hands clenched on the edge of the desk as if he would upend that innocent piece of furniture and send it in the general direction of those three across from him.

  “So, Learned One,” as if he need expect no more interruption the commander turned again to Zurzal, “what is your will?”

  “I would return to Wayright and carry out those plans of mine,” returned the Zacathan. “My guard goes with me and this gentlefem also, if it is her will.”

  “It is,” Taynad agreed. She added nothing to that and Jofre wondered what thoughts clustered now in her head. Since he who had oathed her was dead by what the issha-sworn would consider chance, she was free from employment. Would she, once more on Wayright, seek to return to Asborgan?

  “Also,” she was speaking again, “there is the matter of the Jat.”

  “That can be easily attended to.” The Patrol officer must have been glad he had a clear and definite answer to that. “It will be returned to its home planet.”

  “In the condition in which it now exists?” she queried.

  The officer looked to the port commander for an answer.

  “Unfortunately, the creature has gone catatonic and cannot be roused,” he reported. “The bond between it and the Holder was so harshly broken as to send it into a coma. The medic reports that nothing he has been able to do will restore it.”

  “It might be well to let me try.” To Jofre’s surprise the Jewelbright spoke. “A broken bond might indeed break a mind, but a transferred bond—”

  “Can this be done?” the commander questioned.

  She hesitated for only a second. “My kind have certain powers, Gentlehomos. I have developed a liking for the creature and I saw more of it when it was with its bond master than any of you. Let me try to transfer the bond.”

  “But it still must be returned—”

  “Let that be decided after we see how this will work,” said the commander. “Yes, Gentlefem, I shall give orders that you are to try this—and may you be successful.”

  To Jofre’s complete astonishment she turned her head and surveyed him. “This is one of my world,” she indicated him. “The training he has been given grants him a certain rapport with other species. I will need him to give me aid.”

  Jofre had no chance to talk to her alone. She had admitted obliquely that she knew him for what he was. But that that would constitute any tie between them was chancy. The commander escorted them over to the medic quarters and there they looked down upon the small body which had balled itself almost into a knot on one of the bunks.

  “It still lives,” the medic reported, “but it has had no food nor drink, and the heartbeat is very slow. It is close to death.”

  “Yan searches for he who is gone, that one who became his other half.” Taynad seated herself on the edge of the bunk and leaned over, to gather the Jat into her arms as if it were a hurt child.

  “Medic, on our world we have certain training which can unite us with other living creatures beside those of our own species. It may be that we can reach Yan and bring him back. We can only try.”

  The medic shook his head. “Gentlefem, I fear it is hopeless. But if there is anything you can do—”

  He went to seat himself on a stool at the other side of the room, watching them intently.

  Taynad, the Jat still held against her, moved carefully around on the bunk, so that as much of her back was now presented to Jofre as possible. He could guess the next step. Though he had never been a part of such linkage, yet he was well aware there were cases in which it would and had worked.

  Now he seated himself behind Taynad’s back and dropped his hands on her shoulders. The inner commands he knew and gave one by one, each taking him further to the Center. As yet he was aware of nothing but his own search for full control.

  With one hand Taynad stroked the small body which she cradled so close to her. She began a soft crooning in which there were no words to be distinguished, only soothing sounds.

  Jofre within himself found and fastened upon that strength he sought. Now he drew—launched—as he might a dart—what he shaped. He could feel the feed of it from his center, along his arms, into her body—Then—!

  Touch, immediate linkage, being borne along by another’s demanding will. A wall against which that will struck, and then began to beat in a heavy pattern, seeking a weakness, a way of entrance—

  Swifter grew those blows, steady and unrelenting the draw upon Jofre. He summoned up more and more to feed, to strengthen—

  The resistance lessened reluctantly, as if a bit crumbled, and then another. Before him now was a whirling chaos of terror, alien and therefore threatening. Jofre braced himself and held. What they shaped together now was not the battering ram which had found them a way into this place of rolling terror and loss, but rather a thread to be caught up by the churning of what abode there, twisted, tangled. And they were content to have it so for now—though the payment was heavy as there was feedback of that terror, those waves of negative force. They must not only hold their small contact, but protect themselves into the bargain.

  Now! She had not spoken, but the order reached Jofre as if it had been shouted like a battle cry. He sent forth a surge of power, the thread tightened as she spun. It was well enmeshed now in the chaos, it held. Yet it formed a path for them. Dark, cold, nothingness slipped along towards those two who dared to touch.

  The room was gone, Jofre was aware only of a battle which he could not see, only sense. This—this—Frantically he hunted a shield, a weapon, something to stop that dark counterflow.

  As if it lay heavy in his hand he knew now what he must have. The stone out of Qaw-en-itter. Asshi—if it were assha—force—if it could bring him that force. Though he continued to hold to the thread the Jewelbright had spun, yet he groped within him until he in turn touched! Yet this was no chaos—rather ordered energy. His inner self buckled as he strove to harness it. Too much—he was like one filled with fire which ate outward until all which he was might be consumed.

  Ruthlessly Jofre fought to turn that wave, that fire, to harness it to the thread. And so it did—whether by his efforts, or perhaps because it was attracted in turn to what they were spinning out from issha strength.

  The thread had wound and now was in a whirl which had begun to thicken, to encompass the darkness as if that had substance. And the darkness drew in farther and farther upon its own core until it was like a single nugget of pain and fear. This the thread netted and drew towards its own source.

  Jofre was aware again of the woman beside him, of her body trembling in a hold he had tightened to keep her erect and steady. Then the last remaining fragments of the break-bond spread into him and his clasp on her shoulders would have fallen away save that there rang from her to him the issha touch—enough to steady him.

  He accepted the break-bond as he would swallow some bitter potion if such an act was necessary. Then made one more call, issha—assha—he could not tell which answered but, as the blowing out of a lamp, the flash of a blaster, the darkness was gone.

  Into its place there flowed something else—a warmth which was not of his own, not issha at all—alien—yet with no harm—rather lightness of spirit, peace of mind and heart. Jofre realized that their linkage still held but what it had done was more than they had thought—the Jat was free of that despair which would have killed it—but it was—rebonded—with them!

  He could see over Taynad’s shoulder that the creature was no longer a hard ball in her arms. On
e of its small forepaws was raised, drawing the blunt finger growths down the Jewelbright’s cheek. It chirped inquiringly and she gave a small cry and hugged it closer, rocking a little back and forth as might one who had feared for a child and now found that fear had gone.

  “Friend—” Jofre’s head jerked. The Jat had moved in Taynad’s hold and was now looking over her shoulder to him. Again its forepaw advanced, to stroke caressingly his hand which still caught at the Jewelbright. From that touch came the warmth and peace which he had earlier felt, but increased, as if fueled with the same power as one of the starships.

  “You have done it!” The medic was standing over both of them, staring down at the Jat, which kept its hold on Jofre as well as remaining within the circle of Taynad’s arm.

  For the first time Jofre heard the tinkle of the Jewelbright’s laugh.

  “Perhaps not as the Patrol captain might wish,” she returned. “I am afraid that he will be unable to follow orders even now—Yan has rebonded with—” She glanced at Jofre. Her face had a slight softness which had gentled the masklike beauty she had always turned upon them. “Yan has bonded with—us!”

  “And,” Jofre swiftly spoke for himself, “I do not think that you can try a second time.” He was surprised at the warmth of his own feelings. Issha were not bond-worthy except by oath, and certainly no oathing had passed here. Or had one which was deeper and wiser than that of Lair knowledge?

  The woman also, he was sure that some of his feeling at least had been shared by her, known to her now. Which was a muddle—they had indeed wrought thoughtlessly, for it would seem that the two of them were now linked in a way unknown to their breed before—by one small, warm, and peace-spreading creature. He wondered what complications they had both drawn to them by what they had done.

  He loosed his hold on Taynad, feeling a little awkward, but he reached forward to draw his hand in a half caress across the hobbling head of the Jat, between those up-pointed ears.

  “You are sure?” The medic was demanding. “This is going to present a problem—”

  “We are sure,” the Jewelbright answered calmly. “Though we could have done no other to save the little one’s life. Bond-breaking,” she shivered and her arm tightened a fraction about the small furry body, “is deadly.”

  The medic looked at them both indecisively. “I shall have to report—” And with that he was gone.

  Taynad waited until the door closed behind the spacer. Then she squared her body around on the bunk so she was facing Jofre as well as she could.

  “Brother.” She had freed her one hand from the Jat and gave him finger greeting.

  But dare he answer her as Shadow to Shadow? That was deceitful and not issha way.

  “I am no longer of the Brothers,” he said, watching her face carefully, waiting for that small softening of the expression to vanish. “The story is a long one, Jewelbright. But thus it stands—” And quickly he sketched all which had happened to him since the morning when the Master had paid the Dead-Stone-price and he himself had been denied. Though he did not mention his night in Qaw-en-itter nor his find there, for that was something he felt he could not share—there was too great a secret about it and he must have the unlocking of that first himself.

  “You are issha—for all the blathering of the Shagga,” she returned unexpectedly. “Have you not followed the proper pattern and oathed yourself—and to a lord who is well worth the serving? Do you think we could have linked to free this one,” she glanced down at the Jat and then to him again, “if you were not a true Shadow? The Shagga sometimes take too much on themselves.”

  He was startled by her questioning of authority. Perhaps in some fashion she, too, had had something to be angry over after some priestly encounter. But that she accepted him—with a lift of heart he solemnly made the gesture of welcome and dared to change it so that it was not just to a Shadow met in passing but to one who shared a common goal.

  CHAPTER 20

  ONCE MORE THEY WERE GATHERED in the office of the Patrol captain but this time two more had been added to their number. These were Tssekians but not in the uniforms the unwilling visitors had seen everywhere during their travels in the city and at the keep of the Holder. It seemed to Jofre that they were trying to make a special effort to break with the restraints of their former clothing. For one wore a one-piece suit of green girded by a brilliant scarlet belt and the other a loose shirt of crimson over dull purplish breeches. But both were armed, carrying a fringe of various weapons about their waists and slung across their shoulders, and the speaker for the duo was a woman.

  “We have no quarrel with the Learned One,” she spoke the trade tongue with an accent as if it was one she was not used to using. “He and his guard were brought here against their wills and what he would have used for the purpose of increasing knowledge was not misused—it showed us the first great treachery of that one—” Her lips moved now as if she would spit, though she did not. “That which is his and that which belongs to his man, we have brought with us.”

  Zurzal inclined his head in a small formal nod. “My thanks for your courtesy. I bear no ill will to those of you who now rule here.”

  “This other,” the woman had only nodded curtly in answer to the Zacathan, as if she had already dismissed him from her mind and all dealings with him were completed. Now she was looking at Taynad. “This other was also brought here for a purpose—but one differing from your case, Learned One. Therefore, she is not to be judged as you—”

  Jofre stirred. He had had little time to do more than acquaint Zurzal with the news that the Jewelbright was issha and that her mission was aborted with the fall of the Holder. Now he saw her head come up and she met the Tssekian woman eye to eye, almost in direct challenge.

  “Why did you come—plaything?” There was scathing contempt in that last word. But Taynad showed no sign that any sting of that reached her.

  “It seemed that the Horde Commander Sopt s’Qu had some thought of pleasing his overlord,” she returned calmly. “Thus I was included in this plan.”

  The Tssekian scowled. “Sopt s’Qu is dead,” she said flatly. “The one he served will be held to face the wrath of the people. What should be done with you?”

  Jofre tensed but Taynad spoke before he could make any protest.

  “The man with whom I made my bargain is dead; the man for whom that bargain was made will be otherwise occupied. My reason for visiting Tssek has ceased to exist.”

  The Tssekian woman continued to measure the Jewelbright and there was nothing soft in that harsh stare.

  “Your kind are without value,” she almost spat the words. “We want no taint of you in our lives. Since you had no time to work any true mischief here, we shall send you off-world with these others.”

  “That is your right,” conceded Taynad, “nor have I any wish to remain here.”

  “You brought with you gauds—”

  “To which you are now entitled,” Taynad interrupted. “Since such were of the Horde Commander’s gift and so belong to Tssek. I do not ask for any accounting of them.”

  “Well for you!” The woman was determined not to be bettered in their subtle struggle. “So, off-worlder,” she now looked to the Patrol captain, “these are now your responsibility. Let them return to their own places, we need nothing of them. The Council meets tomorrow; we shall be speaking with you again concerning regulations for off-worlders—some of those will be changed.”

  She stood up, adjusted a fraction the swing of her weapon slung across her shoulder, and moved towards the door without another word or look.

  “Well, it seems it is all decided,” the port commander said briskly as the two Tssekians disappeared. “There is no reason, Captain, why these three must be retained to answer questions now—or at least I cannot imagine any. According to the wishes of this planet’s people the sooner they are gone the better. There is the courier attached to the port service which is due to lift for Wayright. Quarters may be a little cr
amped,” he spoke now to Zurzal, “but the courier service is fast and there is no other ship due for some time. In fact the local disturbances here may be a warn-off for freighters in company service. They will want to be sure the new regime is well rooted before they start negotiations again.”

  The Patrol captain was frowning.

  “Learned One, I intend to send a full report of this whole matter to headquarters. This is very close to interference with planetary affairs, and, if proven, that can keep you safely out of space wandering. You, Gentlefem,” he said more slowly, “were also undoubtedly intended to interfere with matters as they stood. That you did not have a chance to do so was merely fortune. I shall recommend that you be returned to your Asborgan and not permitted off that world again.”

  She did not answer him but the Zacathan did. “Send your report, Captain. You will be following the proper procedure. But know this, I shall also offer an explanation of what was done against my will; also I intend to speak for this gentlefem who was legally hired by the laws of her own world, brought to Tssek and then, not only dismissed from service but deprived of the payment promised her. She dealt in good faith and therefore cannot be held responsible for what another deems she might have done—a very unsure assumption.

  “For the present I consider her as one of my party and ask that she accompany us to Wayright without prejudice. You cannot condemn anyone for a crime which was not committed and perhaps never would have been except as you speculate.”

  The port commander was nodding in time to the last words. “He has the right of it. Submit your report, Captain, and I shall also submit mine. The Tssekians find no fault with these people; instead they freely admit that the Learned One was kidnapped. That his machine worked in part, even aided what they had planned to do, for it betrayed the fact that the Holder had been a traitor to his predecessor. I can believe that such glimpses into the pasts of all of us might turn up some unpleasant and dangerous decisions and events. However, it is the Learned One’s desire to use his scanner only in the field of archeology—to present a past so far removed that its summoning will have no effect on the modern day.”