by Larry Niven
“Not just yet,” Sandry said. “Should we gather this willow bark?”
Green Stone nodded. “It will be worth a day.”
Sandry clapped his hands.
Chalker appeared from nowhere. “Sir?”
“We’ll want four chariots ready in the morning, including mine. You’ll come with me. The other three will each have a Younglord driver, a trooper, and one of Green Stone’s wagoneers. We’ll go north and look for this willow bark.”
“Sir. So I’m to pick men who don’t mind getting their hands dirty?”
“Hands and feet.”
“I will have the cooks pack lunches for twelve, then,” Green Stone said.
“Yes, sir. That be all, sir?”
“Yes, thank you.” Chalker went away.
“And that’s something to take back, maybe, if we’re there in time and those people Lurk overheard know what they’re talking about,” Green Stone said. “But we didn’t have to come to Crescent City to find willow swamps! We’re still going to be short of goods.”
“You don’t sound devastated,” Burning Tower said.
“No, little sister, I’m not. I’ve already sold half our cargo at better prices than I expected to. I have enough credit with the moneychangers to buy a full load for next trip even if we come here with empty wagons; I have more goods in the warehouses. We can’t lose!” He rubbed his hands in anticipation. “And I have the one wagonload of charged talismans, the only ones for sale, but think! In Condigeo they’ll be worth a fortune! The first magic in a year. With Sandry’s army to protect us on the way back. Little sister, I am not devastated at all.” He paused. “I am eager to be started, though. Sandry, while you gather willow bark, I will begin preparations to return to Condigeo. There is little to remain here for.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Augury
In the morning, Clever Squirrel went back to Fur Slipper, taking Tower with her.
“Crescent City has no llamas,” Fur Slipper said. “We have few animals we did not eat while the birds encircled us.”
Clever Squirrel nodded. “Does it have to be a llama?”
“No. Sheep, goat, calf—”
“Come with us. I know where to find a calf.” She strode toward the Feathersnake wagon camp.
“Squirrel! No!” Tower shouted.
Squirrel didn’t look back.
The wagon camp was a flurry of activity as Green Stone directed the others in setting up a market. Squirrel went up to him, and whatever she said dampened his enthusiasm. When Tower came closer, her brother was saying, “You can’t have him.”
“I can and will,” Squirrel said. Tower had never seen her this way before. “It is needed.”
“It has been years since we had a spotted bull calf,” Stone said. “Wait for another.”
“No. This cannot wait. There is need, and the time is now. Do you question my right at need?”
Stone looked at her intently. “I may question how you know of the need.”
“I know,” Squirrel said.
Stone stared at the ground for a long time. “Then take him. But not until the herd goes out to pasture. I will not have his mother see this.”
“So be it,” Squirrel said.
The bison herd was led out in the late afternoon. The two-month-old calf was kept behind until the herd was out of sight. Then Squirrel and Fur Slipper led the calf away. Tower followed reluctantly.
Fur Slipper held the calf. It was tame and trusting, and Clever Squirrel cut its throat. When it stopped struggling, she and Fur Slipper split the beast open and wrestled its lungs out of the carcass…
Burning Tower turned away.
Clever Squirrel was fascinated. The two shamans pored over the extended lungs, chattering in low voices.
Squirrel raised her voice. “Tower, the veins in the lungs make a map. We’re going northeast. There’s an island a hundred leagues and more away, right in the middle of this vast land. Left-Handed Hummingbird waits there. Here at this pucker, closer, rewards await us too.”
They found the willow swamp before noon. Sandry set his men to gathering the thin bark. It was dull work, and they had surprisingly little to show for their efforts when the sun hung low and Sandry ordered their return. They reached the Feathersnake encampment at dusk, to find Green Stone surly and shouting.
“She had the right,” Burning Tower was saying.
“If she is not the Feathersnake wagon shaman, she has no rights over us at all,” Green Stone said. “She certainly didn’t have the right to slaughter my spotted calf!”
Squirrel said coolly, “It is the patterns in the calf’s lungs that tell me I must not return with you.”
“Why? Are you ill luck for us? The calf was our good luck, and you’ve taken it!”
“What is this to you? We will find you a shaman for the return trip. I know five here who can do the task, and every one of them is willing to go. Every one but the mayor, and you would not want him anyway. Choose your shaman, Green Stone.”
“What’s this?” Sandry asked quietly.
“She says she has to go to Aztlan,” Burning Tower said. “She has a mission there.”
“What mission?” Sandry asked.
“It is not your concern,” Clever Squirrel said. She turned to face them. “Go, you two, and marry, and leave me to my work.”
The morning dawned bright, with a cool breeze from the sea. Sandry woke with a grin.
Go and marry. The Bison Tribe shaman was powerful in magic. She must know whereof she spoke.
I have brought the wagon train to Crescent City, I have lifted the siege, and I return in triumph. He stretched and did his morning exercises. A beautiful morning. Go and marry, Squirrel had said. And Green Stone’s look was sour, but he had nodded agreement.
A wonderful morning, of a wonderful day and a glorious year.
Chapter Twenty-three
What Must We Do?
Breakfast was plain fare, boiled oats such as they ate on the trail, but Sandry had had enough of terror bird stew. So had they all. They’d eat well enough when they returned to Condigeo.
Condigeo, then north to Lordshills. Should they wed in Lordshills or go on to Feathersnake’s New Castle? He lusted to see that place. Nonetheless…Lordshills, Sandry decided. We will marry in Lordshills and visit Avalon, and go to New Castle afterward.
The Feathersnake wagon encampment was a blur of activity. Green Stone was interrupted half a dozen times by wagon owners with questions.
By contrast, Burning Tower sat staring into her bowl. She didn’t return Sandry’s foolish grin. Something was wrong. But what?
He’d learn soon enough. He always did.
Green Stone, vividly busy organizing cooking gear, wouldn’t look at him either. So, “Wagonmaster, what’s the problem now?”
Green Stone looked around. “Where do terror birds come from?”
“Eggs. No, you mean terror bird brooders. East?”
“How far east? How many more are there? When will they arrive?”
Sandry thought about that.
“And why are they attacking us? We were sent here to find the cause of the terror bird attacks and put a stop to them. We have done neither.” When Sandry began a protest, Stone waved it aside. “We’ve won every battle. We have opened roads to Condigeo, for now. We’ve learned a great deal. We’ll take it all back to Condigeo and Tep’s Town and New Castle. We look good! We’ll make profits from this journey. But tell me, Lord Sandry, who sent the birds? And what will prevent him or her or them from sending more?”
Sandry looked to Burning Tower. She was staring into the cook fire, unnaturally silent.
“What were your instructions?” Green Stone asked him.
“To get here and return with information,” Sandry said.
Tower looked up, finally. “We’ve done that. Or will have when we go home. All that the Lords sent you for, and more.”
“Yes!” Sandry said.
“For how long?” Green
Stone asked. “Yes, we seem to have cleared the way from here to Condigeo.”
“The Hemp Road is safe, then,” Burning Tower said. “We have always lived on the Hemp Road. What need do we have of this Golden Road?”
“Aside from the new wealth?” Green Stone said.
“Yes, aside from that,” Burning Tower said. She looked possessively at Sandry. “We have no need of new wealth. We’ll breed horses in Lordshills!”
“And when the birds return to the Hemp Road?”
“Why would they?”
“Why did they go there at all?” Green Stone demanded. “Little sister, we all assumed that if we could only get here, we would know why the birds were attacking. Here we are. What about the birds?”
Sandry asked, “What do you want to do?”
Stone shook his head. “Yesterday morning, I would have said we were done. Go home with what we know and let your council, and my father, decide what to do next. But then Squirrel pissed in the soup.”
“We can ill afford to lose her,” Sandry said. “But I know no way to prevent her from traveling the road to Aztlan.”
“Nor I, and I know her better than you,” Green Stone said. “Even unicorns don’t mess with that girl! But if anyone can learn the secrets of the bird god, that will be Squirrel.” He spread his hands. “Of course it is of no use to anyone if she dies with this knowledge.”
Sandry finally saw what he was driving at. “Why do you think I can keep that madwoman alive?”
“I think one of you may return,” Green Stone said. “Don’t you?”
“That’s a year’s work!” Sandry said. “I had expected to be home and married well before that.”
“We don’t always get what we want. And Tower will wait—”
“I will not,” Burning Tower snapped, glaring at them both. “If you’re going up that road with my sister, with Clever Squirrel, you aren’t going without me!”
“You saw this coming?” Sandry asked her.
“I did.”
The way she’d been behaving…Sandry wasn’t being punished for any crime he’d committed yet. But people grew to know each other well, traveling in a caravan, and Burning Tower’s sister looked too much like Tower and lived too much by her own rules…and neither she nor Sandry could be expected to harness a one-horn. Whatever happened on the road to Aztlan, there would be no way for Tower to know.
And she would brood. Sandry nodded to himself. So would he, in the same circumstances. But for him, there was tattletale Spike.
Sandry said, “I don’t want to risk you. We still can’t guess what danger lies east of us.” He knew at once that Burning Tower would not be persuaded this way. “You’re starting to like that, aren’t you?”
She shrugged.
“Green Stone?”
Green Stone shrugged. He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, force his sister to return with him.
Another year. He looked at Burning Tower and thought of Roni, and sighed. Then he turned to Green Stone. “What must we do?”
Nothing Was Seen returned at lunch time. Green Stone gathered the Feathersnake leaders into the wagonmaster’s nest to hear what he had learned.
Clever Squirrel joined them uninvited.
Green Stone stood in the doorway to block her path. “Do you return to Feathersnake?”
“How could I leave?” Squirrel said. “Your Feathersnake people pulled me out of Avalon. If I’d stayed there, I’d be safe at Road’s End now. I am here at the behest of Feathersnake. My father rode Whandall Feathersnake’s mind the night I was conceived. Whatever drives me to Aztlan is no stranger to Feathersnake. And I believe—no, I know that I was conceived and born for this task.”
“And you need our help,” Green Stone said.
“Eh. My interest is yours,” Clever Squirrel corrected. “But if you seek gratitude, brother, you have it.” She smiled at Tower. “Thank you, sister.” She turned to Sandry. “And brother found.”
Green Stone turned silently from the door and took his place on the east side of the nest.
“Three wagon trains,” Nothing Was Seen said. “They have taken every beast still alive, and those from the trains from the south, and they are sending them all. It makes three trains, but all will be under the mastery of Wagonmaster Ern. Ern leads the Road Runner train.” He paused, clearly waiting for someone to speak.
Green Stone frowned, then nodded. “Mayor Buzzard at Play was shaman of that train before he retired to politics.”
“Shaman and then owner,” Nothing Was Seen said. “Now he has partners, but he is owner still.”
“Like Father with Bison Tribe,” Green Stone observed. “Well enough. So it is with the mayor that we must negotiate. Sandry, what will you need to provide protection to that train?”
“From what?”
Green Stone shrugged. “How would I know?”
“Then I don’t either. Every Younglord and Lordsman we have couldn’t protect against a hundred birds at once.”
Clever Squirrel spoke. “Until this year, there were never more than a dozen,” she said. “I think Left-Handed Hummingbird sent all he had to destroy Crescent City. We slew them. Even a god takes time to hatch and grow more birds.”
“He is a god,” Green Stone said. “And there are wild birds aplenty.”
“No,” Burning Tower said. “Brother, think, wild birds do not cooperate any more than wild one-horns. Without the god to restrain them, they fight; they claim wide hunting grounds. Before the god sent these birds, we scarcely saw one a year on the whole Hemp Road! How many can there be on the desert roads to Aztlan?”
“It’s not all desert,” Clever Squirrel said. “But Blazes is right: there can’t be as many wild birds here, and the god will have claimed most of those already.”
“He claimed them; we killed them,” Sandry said. “So. Not so many on the way up. I believe I can teach Mayor Buzzard’s troops to use spears rather than rely on magic. Enough so that we can get through to the trading posts. Of course the return may be a different story.”
“Ah,” Green Stone said. “I hadn’t thought of that. Tell me: how many of our people will you take with you? Only they will be your concern on return.”
Sandry frowned.
“We can write an agreement that ends when you reach the trading posts,” Green Stone said. “Indeed, they’ll insist on that. Crescent City wants none of us on the road to Aztlan. They will be expecting us to demand the right to send our own wagon trains north and east. They won’t permit that except at great need. So take only those you need, and only they will be your charges for the return.”
Sandry stood and paced for a moment. “A chariot, four horses. Enough for a spearman, say Younglord Whane and myself. Tower will have Spike.”
“And I have my stallion,” Clever Squirrel said.
“You will want a wagon for the journey,” Green Stone said.
“Two,” Clever Squirrel said. Tower nodded agreement.
“Two wagons, then,” Green Stone said. “I will ask for four and settle for three.”
“Three?”
“We must look to our profits, little sister. If you must have two wagon nests, there must be one wagon for cargo. A thing you easily forget, but I do not.”
“And if we must abandon the wagons?”
“Cargo to Aztlan is bulky,” Green Stone said. “What returns is small. A chariot can hold magical items to buy three wagons twice over.” He sighed. “That is with Burning Tower negotiating the sales. Would I were going, I would double that.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Jade Coin
Regapisk, no longer Lord, beamed a smile at the pretty waitress. Her name was Laughing Rock. He’d learned she was the proprietor’s daughter and would sometimes give a free breakfast to a handsome young man down on his luck. Regapisk thought he fitted that description well enough. She’d already brought him flat corn cakes and a hot drink of herbs and sage honey even though he’d made it clear enough that he couldn’t pay. Regapisk si
pped at the hot sweet drink and smiled again.
“Lord Reg.” A man’s voice. Behind him.
Regapisk leaped to his feet, his hand on the hilt of the bronze sword. Laughing Rock shrieked.
“Steady, Lord Reg,” Captain Saziff said. He grinned nervously. “I see you have found new clothing.” Saziff spoke in the language of the Tep’s Town kinless dock-workers. No one here would understand that.
Laughing Rock and her father stood at the kitchen entrance, their brows furrowed. Regapisk thought briefly of sending her father for help. He owned this place; he ought to have influence with the local watchmen. But he’d also made it clear that he had his doubts about Regapisk as a suitor. Better to keep this private for the moment. “And I heard you were sailing this morning,” Regapisk said. He looked around for friends but saw no one but the girl and her elderly father. Where’s Arshur when I need him?
“I’d planned that,” Saziff said. “But I have one last errand to perform before I can safely return to Condigeo and Lord’s Town. I have looked for you for the past three days without success.”
Regapisk nodded warily. “I know.” He had seen the Oarmaster and several sailors from Angie Queen going through the town, and they’d asked Ruser the jeweler if he had seen anyone from Lord’s Town. “You’re not armed,” Regapisk said.
Saziff laughed. “No, and I’m alone. I haven’t come to take you back! I couldn’t, you know, even if I wanted to. I’ve had to keep all the rowing crew in chains the whole time we’ve been here. If one of them gets outside the dock area, he’s free. It’s the law here—didn’t you know that?”
“No.”
“Well, it is! You, sir, do you speak Condigeano?”
“Some.” Black Stone kept his arm around his daughter. “What is all this?”
Saziff explained.
The old man nodded. “It is as he says. Crescent City has no slaves and allows no one else but the Emperor to hold slaves beyond the docks. You are safe here. If anyone tried to take you by force, we would send for the watch.” He eyed Regapisk coldly. “I had wondered where you gained those muscular arms.”