He could never marry her or even lie with her. But that didn't mean that he couldn't like her—to some extent, anyway. If she were a male cannibal, she could be his friend. So why should her being a woman make a difference?
For some undefinable reason, it did.
Some time later, they were on a branch high up in a tree. This was reachless, though it did have some tiny pesky ants. They could see everything within the stockade. It looked as if almost the entire population was getting drunk. The exceptions were the dogs, chickens, pigs, the four guards, and the
Yawti. Even the children, babies at the breast, were being plied with alcohol. In addition, a bonfire in front of the shaman's house was covered from time to time with some kind of plant This burned, emitting a greenish smoke through which the people walked slowly from time to time. Evidently, they were breathing it in. And they found it even more exhilarating than the liquor.
Neither Deyv nor Vana knew what the plant was. It certainly wasn't anything like the drugs their tribes used.
At each corner of the square stockade wall was a roofed platform holding a guard. Ladders led from each guard post to the grounds inside the stockade. The guards were, aside from the prisoner, the only unhappy ones in the village. They didn't like it at all that they couldn't join in the celebration. Deyv wished that they could. It would make it easier for him and Vana to get over the walls.
In the middle of the open square was a tall vertical post, across the top of which was a shorter post. From one arm of the T, two ropes had been attached. The other ends of the ropes held the dead man by his waist and the Yawtl by his. The latter was face to face with the corpse, his wrists bound to its. His toes were just touching the ground.
So far, only the children were allowed to touch the Yawtl. Encouraged by their laughing elders, they beat on his legs and buttocks with light sticks or threw mud and pig dung at him. Once, a toddler drenched him with the liquor, but he was reprimanded for wasting it.
As time went by, the drummers and flutists fell into rhythms of their own, each wrapped up in his small tight world, ignoring or unaware that he was out of beat with the others. The shaman's dance became a series of staggers, and the bullroarer he'd been whirling above his head sometimes struck the ground. A
woman fell into the fire and had to be dragged out. She was lucky that anyone noticed her.
"I'm glad that smoke isn't blowing our way," Deyv said. "If it was, we'd probably fall out of the tree."
They munched fruit and brushed off the ants. Jum and Aejip waited patiently at the foot of the tree. One by one, sometimes by twos, the tribespeople dropped off. The children were first. Then the men and women. The shaman kept up the travesty of a dance, stumbling over bodies, laughing, striking the fallen with the bull-roarer. Perhaps it was the exercise that kept him going after everybody else was out. But the time came when he could go no longer. He toppled while breathing in the greenish smoke.
Deyv, coining down the tree, saw this just before the top of the stockade cut off his line of sight.
When they got to the edge of the open area, Deyv ordered Jum and Aejip to wait. He planned to return to this spot, where the animals could ambush any pursuers.
The guard nearest them had been looking outward. It seemed a futile duty. If he did see attackers and gave a warning, he'd be able to alert only the other sentinels. Ten warriors could have taken the village easily and butchered the sleepers at leisure. Deyv left Vana and circled the open area, keeping behind the foliage, until he was opposite her. Then, summoning up his courage, he stepped out. Vana came out of the bush a second later.
He had expected to be seen at once, but just as he emerged he saw the two guards on his end of the stockade turn away. They were shouting and gesturing with their spears at something inside the walls.
The dogs were barking as if they'd cornered a tree-lion.
11
DEYV didn't know what was causing the agitation. He didn't care. This was a lucky break which he was going to take advantage of. Holding his blowgun in one hand, he sped toward the stockade. Through the dim light he could see Vana's white body, her legs moving, a long blowgun in one hand. They'd planned to dash up and shoot the nearest guards with the poison darts. If they missed, they'd have to dodge some thrown spears. But they might be able to entice the two guards to pursue them.
If that happened, which really wasn't likely, Deyv would lead them to Aejip and Jum. Or if one took off after Vana, he would have to follow her into the jungle, if he was foolish enough to do so. Vana could get him with her dart then.
The plan had a lot of if's, all fueled by desperation. It wasn't hopeless, though, because there were only four men to deal with. And now the gods favored him. For a little while, anyway. He didn't ask for any more time than that.
The guard nearest him disappeared, going down the ladder inside. The others, however, stayed at their posts. They didn't see Deyv or Vana. Their attention was fixed on whatever was going on below. Deyv shifted his blowgun to his left hand and removed the coil of rope from his shoulder. When he got to the corner of the stockade, he threw its loop up. It caught on the pointed end of a log, and he tightened it
Vana got to her corner about thirty seconds later. She had a little more distance to cover than he did and was not as swift a runner. She placed the dart in her pipe but did not shoot at once. She had to get her wind back first.
The guard above her still hadn't seen her.
Deyv thrust the blowgun into its case and hauled himself up hand over hand, his feet braced against the rough bark. The guards were still yelling. The dogs seemed to have gone crazy.
Halfway up, he saw Vana drop the dart into her gun. When he reached the top of the stockade, he saw her lift the gun to her lips. Something whitish sped out from the pipe. He was too busy then to watch the aftermath.
His hands gripped the conical top of the log, and he pulled himself up and over. He rolled onto the platform but did not get up. The guards at the other comers might see him. Here, in the half-light under the roof, he might be unnoticed as long as he didn't silhouette himself.
He looked to his right. The guard there was visible only as a dim motionless bulk on the floor behind the railing. Vana had got him with her first shot. The poison of the striped hole-beetle had taken almost instant effect. The guard would have felt the sting of the sharpened point and would have whirled, startled. Before he could cry out a warning, his muscles would have been locked. A second or two later, he would have fallen. And now he would be close to death, his heart convulsing.
Deyv would have liked to raise his head to look over the wall. Vana, however, would be running toward his corner now. He'd been lucky enough that he wasn't seen when he'd come over the top.
The guard who'd left his post was in the middle of the village now. He was doing something with the
Yawtl. Ah! The prisoner had somehow gotten one arm loose; it flailed out for a moment. Now the guard had grabbed it again and was trying to tie it back to the dead man's wrist. The Yawtl had twisted his head around, and he'd bitten the guard on the nose.
Screaming, holding his nose, the guard backed away and fell backward over one of the dogs. The other two guards were coming down the ladders now to help.
Another lucky break. Deyv rose, crouching, and went quickly down the ladder. On the ground, he ran alongside the wall until he came opposite the shaman's hut Then he dashed down the lane between two rows of huts to the back side of his goal. It had no rear doorway, and the windows were too small for him to crawl through. Like it or not, he had to use the front entrance.
He spared a second to look up over the conical roofs. There was Vana, outlined vaguely against the light. Suddenly she was gone. She had come up the rope like a squirrel and was on her way. Wherever and whatever it was.
He raced around the shaman's house. He glimpsed the guard whose nose had been bitten. On his feet now, the man was surrounded by barking and snarling dogs. His spear was raised, butt first, ready to c
ome down on the back of Yawtl's head. The other guards were almost to him.
The interior of the shaman's hut was dark, its only light feeble, coming from the two back windows and the doorway. He blundered around, feeling with his hands, tripped over something, and swore. He rose and began groping along the walls, thinking that if the bag of eggs was here it would be on a shelf. And then he almost cried out with exultation. His hand had closed on leather and within it were at least ten round objects which had to be the soul eggs. But he had to make sure.
He took the bag to the doorway, untied the leather thong, and brought out what he'd hoped for. Since he didn't want to take the time to search for and put on his own egg, though the temptation was almost overpowering, he put the egg back in the bag. Before running out, he paused to look the situation over.
It had changed unbelievably fast The guard about to hit the Yawtl over the head was down among the dogs. Deyv guessed that the prisoner had kicked backward into the man's stomach or crotch.
There went the Yawtl, somehow freed from his bonds. The fellow must be double-jointed or as slippery as a wet rock. Behind him came the two guards and close at their heels a pack of dogs. One man hurled a spear. Deyv couldn't see if it struck its target, but he didn't think so. The guards weren't shouting triumph, though it would have been hard to hear them over the uproar of the dogs.
Now those dogs that had been concerned with the fallen guard were chasing after the others. They left an open space in which Deyv could see the man. He was on his knees and holding his belly with both hands.
From the direction in which the Yawtl had run, Deyv guessed that he would make for the ladder of the sentinel Vana had shot. That was good. Their entrance route was open for an exit. But where was the woman?
No sooner thought of than she appeared. Panting, she stepped around the comer. Deyv came out of the doorway, grinning, holding up the bag. She squealed with delight and threw her arms around him. He turned his head so that she kissed him on the cheek, not the mouth. He couldn't help thinking, even in this triumph, that those lips had eaten human flesh.
She drew back and said, "Give me my egg!"
"As soon as we get out of here and away from the guards," he said. "We can't spare the time."
She looked hungrily at the bag, but she nodded. "Let's go, then!"
Without asking him which way they should take, she ran around the hut and back down the lane. He would have preferred going to the wall in which the gates were set and then along it back to the guard post. That way there would be less chance of encountering the guards or the dogs. It angered him a little that she hadn't waited for his decision, but there was nothing he could do about it. He went after her, his sword in hand. She still gripped her blowgun.
Before she reached the end of the lane, the Yawtl dashed in front of it. A moment later, some of the big yellow dogs raced barking after him. Then the two guards, and behind them more dogs.
Vana dodged into a house. But one or more of the canines at the rear must have caught her scent. A big brute stopped, whined, then dashed back, barking at the house she'd entered. Five dogs followed him; the others kept on the original chase.
Silently, Deyv sped up to the now-snarling beasts. Two were in the doorway, then one suddenly yelped and fell down. Vana must have shot it or struck it with her tomahawk. By then he was slashing at the three still outside. One died, its spine severed. Another staggered under a slash alongside its neck. The third whirled and bounced away, snarling, its teeth white, dripping saliva.
Deyv glanced sideways. The other dog in the doorway was also crumpled, and Vana was stepping out over the two bodies. Deyv charged the dog, which ran away, then stopped to face him again. Something small shot over and past him and ended in the dog's side. Its legs gave way under it, its eyes rolled up, and it was dying.
Deyv waited for Vana. He said, "Good shooting. But you've got only six darts left. Save two for the guards."
Vana said, pointing, "There they go again."
The Yawtl flashed by. Somewhere in his run he'd picked up a spear. Dogs bounded after him, then the two tribesmen. But one of them looked aside and saw the two strangers. His alarmed yell trailed after him down the lane.
From a house nearby a man, head hanging, crawled out.
"Some of them will be waking up," Deyv said. "Follow me!"
He ran between the houses to the right of the broad lane. Vana's feet thudded behind him. They broke out from the cluster and angled toward the comer guardhouse where Deyv had tied his rope. But the
Yawtl came around the corner of a house, the dogs snapping at his heels. Some of them were wounded.
The Yawtl whirled and plunged his spear into the neck of his nearest pursuer. The others dodged around him, trying to hamstring him. And then some of them saw Deyv and Vana.
That helped the Yawtl for a few seconds, but the two guards, their chests heaving, sweat-covered, appeared.
Deyv ran at the dogs, his sword raised.
The Yawtl hurled his spear, and its stone head drove into a guard's shoulder. He spun then as Deyv sped by him.
A reddish hand reached out and yanked the bag from Deyv's grasp. The Yawtl's howl of triumph faded as he ran down a narrow lane between the houses.
Deyv was shocked. And he couldn't pursue the thief because he was surrounded by dogs. His blade slashed out as he turned to keep them from his legs.
During one of his swift circles, he saw the remaining guard clutch his chest and fall on his face.
Four dogs lay dead from his sword, and two had limped off howling. One fell from Vana's dart. Another.
The four survivors fled his charge.
"Did you see that?" he gasped.
She shook her head. Her face was pale.
"Go after him! I'm out of breath!"
The man who'd awakened staggered out from between two houses. He held a spear, but he didn't seem to know what to do with it. Deyv chopped its head off with his blade, and he half-cut the man's arm off with another stroke. Breathing heavily, his legs feeling a little tired, he ran after Vana. He found her lying on the ground, face up. A bruise across her forehead showed where the Yawtl had struck her with the butt of his spear.
Her unconsciousness lasted only a minute. Still, she didn't know where she was or who Deyv was until he had helped her halfway to the sentinel platform. He told her what had happened.
"Our eggs! They're gone!" She began sobbing.
He didn't say anything. He felt a burning anger. At the same time, he felt humiliated. The Yawtl had made a fool of him.
She had to be supported to the ladder. When he saw she couldn't get up without falling, he hoisted her on his back and carried her up the ladder. She sat on the platform a minute or two, then said, "I can get down the rope by myself."
Deyv blew on his bone whistle. Jum and Aejip burst out of the foliage and came running. Vana stood up unsteadily, but she successfully slid down the rope to the ground. In the village, a few people were beginning to stir. He thought of setting some houses on fire. That would keep them busy for a while and delay any pursuit. However, he didn't want to spend the time on arson. Besides, they really weren't in any condition to chase him. By the next sleep-time, maybe, and he'd be long gone before then.
He untied the rope and dropped it, his weapons, and the blowgun case. He climbed over the pointed ends of the log, hung from his hands, and dropped. The soft mud eased the impact to his feet. He rolled over, and just as he stood up, the animals arrived.
Deyv set Jum and Aejip on the Yawtl's tracks. They sped off silently. He and Vana followed at a leisurely pace until she was fully recovered. They found the animals on the bank of a creek. Jum was running up and down it trying to pick up the scent. Aejip was sitting on her haunches and looking disgusted. Deyv took Jum across the broad shallow stream, but the dog could find no traces anywhere.
For a long time, all four went up and down both banks before giving up.
Deyv was sick with the pain of his loss. Yet
he could not help admiring the wily, slippery-slick thief.
12
SLOOSH was walking in the middle of the ancients' highway as if he owned it. Hearing Vana's whistle, he stopped and turned slowly. If he was surprised, he had no way of showing it. It was impossible to see any expression on that cabbage-head face—if there was a face under the leaves. For all Deyv knew, the head contained no bones.
"So, you got out alive," the Archkerri buzzed.
"But without our eggs," Vana whistled.
"I knew some time ago that you didn't get them," Sloosh said.
Deyv and Vana stared open-mouthed. Deyv asked, "How could you know that?"
"I saw the Yawtl just before the last sleep-time. He was carrying the leather bag with the eggs."
The thief had come up softly behind him and then run swiftly past him. "
"He had the effrontery to slap me on my rear as he went by," Sloosh said. He added a modulated buzz, an abrupt rising and then slow falling to express his indignation. "What's more, he laughed at me."
Deyv ignored that remark. He had just thought of something that worried him. "What about your prism?
If he finds out how to work that, he'll always be able to keep ahead of us. We won't be able to sneak up on him because he could see us in it."
Sloosh replied calmly, "He might find out how to operate it. But he won't be able to interpret what he sees in it. However, he might just throw it away if he thinks it's of no value to him. Still, the Yawtl are not only thieves, they're magpies. They find it difficult to abandon anything that looks interesting, even if it is not utilitarian for them. On the other hand, the crystal is heavy, and he might feel that it weighs him down too much. It would then be a battle between his desire for survival and his cupidity. Still ..."
Deyv waited, impatiently, until the Sloosh had considered all possibilities. Then he asked, "Aren't you interested in what happened to us?"
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