by Andre Norton
"That also is the truth." The Zacanthan's mind send was heavier but as clear. "There are other worlds where those who live upon their lands and within their seas can be easy prey to those of evil. Only there is no fear there—"
"Why?" Vestrum crowded a little closer to make his demand, his chin thrust forward, about him the sharpness of hostility.
"Because in the space about those worlds there are protectors. Not ones who live and breathe and are of our form of life. No, these are like small, very small, ships set to travel in patterns. If a star-roving ship comes near, these sweep swiftly to match its path and loose a warning. If that is not heeded then that ship will speedily become, while still aloft, like this invader that you have just seen. Only those who know and can think the proper words can pass unharmed. Once each four years one of these who know the signal will come here and land where you yourselves shall appoint and there you and the people of that ship may meet. So through the years to come you will learn of us and we of you and when the time comes we can share peace."
"Thinker and Rememberer," Fragon made answer. "We know that what you say is truth, as you see it. But truth wears many faces when it abides with different peoples. Truth also changes as lives change and what may be right at one time is wrong at another. However, we have little choice. If we are not to be meat for any strange ship which lands here we must accept what you promise. Still, how do you bring this forth? You have a ship and can run to other stars. We are earth-bound, and, in the time we must wait for this you promise, we may attract more spoilers."
"Not so." Vorlund shook his head to emphasize his thought. "There has been set up among your mountains a defense—like that of the ship which was trying to beam in their fellow thieves, there goes forth now another beam. All may fear death, a death which cannot be withstood or treated with any ill-bane. There are certain worlds—your people were star travelers once, perhaps you can remember—where death awaits any who dare to land there. On such worlds the law keepers have set up that which will warn off any ship approaching a landing orbit. You need only tend well this warning and you shall be free of those who discover your world by chance. This will serve until we can come again with the more certain defense I have spoken of—"
It was Sorwin's harsh-pitched thought which interrupted him. "So we wait for the coming of those who will set up rule, a rule of those unlike us. They well hold us in a new bondage—"
"No." Zoror answered that. "I hope to come again, for there is much I would learn. Am I one to put the searing iron on you? There may be others like unto me—like these—" He nodded toward Maelen and Vorlund. "Ask of your own." Now he indicated Farree. "Can we be trusted, are we rulers with orders?"
"They are in their way kin," Farree answered. "Me they brought out of the Deep Dark and they call me friend. Even as I am friends with this one." He freed the smux from his jerkin. "It does not matter the form, only that which lies within it. Also "—he put his thoughts into order—"I swear this by my body after the Great Memory—I shall be with you here where you can do with me as you please if you believe I have twisted truth."
Vorlund laid hand on Farree's shoulder. "This one has been much to us, more and more each passing day. We shall give to him all the knowledge needed to keep you free. He is kin-friend and will always be."
Sorwin grunted but Fragon was nodding slowly. "There is no falseness in what you have said. You believe it. If we are minded to accept slowly it is because we have known it to be otherwise many times over. Glasrant has been beyond the stars as one of you. Indeed we can learn from him. Therefore we accept this much, that you will leave with him such knowledge as you are willing to trade. But to you we offer nothing now—save our thanks for what is already done. Let time prove whether you are right."
Farree stood where his wings had borne him at dawn. He was looking down into the cup valley. They were already aboard. All except two– He glanced down for a moment at what he held, felt the familiar pinch of the legs upon his arm and wrist.
"Cold—" That plaint was familiar too. Togger did not relish the kind of wind about them here in the heights.
"Lady Maelen?" A thought swift sent, an answer.
"Lord One Krip?" A second hail and farewell.
"Lord Zoror—?"
"Only until we come again." The Zacanthan's thought was swift to answer.
Farree watched the flame of the jets, the rise of the ship up and up, out of the cup which had held it, back to the stars.
"Do you truly wish yourself there?"
She had alighted on the grassy surface of the cliff top just too far away for him to be aware of her until the thought wove with his.
"I do not know– Here I am one."
"Here you are kin." Her send was clear and strangely soft. She had folded her wings and now she walked towards him. In her hands was a gathering of ill-bane flowers, and the scent of them was also hers.
"Kin, Kin," she chanted aloud now and each word was like the scented and healing breath of the plant.
Farree threw back his head to the dawn-colored sky. He could only see a very distant trail. Then it was gone.
"Kin!" Atra was beside him and the scent of the flowers brought with it a softening of all sadness.
He no longer searched the sky for the past but looked into the face of the future, and his smile was eager.
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We dare not go a-hunting
For fear of little men…
William Allingham
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