by Sharon Green
"I don't believe those people," Tamrissa muttered as she came over to seat herself under the canopy near them. She carried a cup of tea and was being careful not to spill it. "Do you believe that some of them are demanding to be taken back to Gan Garee? They've decided that this all has to be some sort of mistake, and they want to go back to get it straightened out."
"That doesn't surprise me," Meerk said, now sounding distracted. "I've heard of people who were arrested and tried and sentenced to the deep mines who refused to believe that it was actually happening to them. Those people were awake through the whole process, and they still refused to believe. What can you expect of people who were put to sleep without warning and are only now waking up?"
"I expect them to take the word of the people who are trying to save them," Tamrissa replied, the statement slow and cold. "I also expect them to pitch in and help with those who aren't yet awake, not sit there and demand to be taken care of. Jovvi and I just walked away, because Rion and Valiant's patient explanations—repeated patient explanations—were getting on our nerves."
"Maybe it's time to do something else for a while," Lorand mused, his attention having been taken by one of their sleeping prisoners. "That guardsman over there is beginning to wake up, so why don't we ask who the leader of this convoy is? Then we can wake that one up, and ask a few other questions."
"Let me get Jovvi before you do that," Tamrissa said, starting to get to her feet. "With Grath having been put to sleep to save her the trouble of keeping him under control, she can take control of the convoy leader instead."
"There, you see what I mean?" Meerk said after letting out a sharp breath, his accusing gaze on Lorand again. "None of us likes the idea of being controlled, but we don't hesitate to do it to others. If that isn't wrong, I don't know what is."
"Then let me tell you what is," Tamrissa said to Meerk just as sharply before Lorand could reply. "Wrong is taking innocent people and destroying their lives because you're afraid of them. Wrong is keeping everything good for yourself and your friends, and leaving nothing for the people who work hardest to produce that good. Wrong is refusing to do whatever it takes to change that horrible condition, simply because you're too good to fight fire with fire. I'll live with being called bad, if that's the terrible price I have to pay to save people from having to go through what we suffered. If you can't live with it, I just feel sorry for you."
Meerk stared up at her for a moment, his expression wounded and vulnerable, then he was on his feet and striding away. Lorand briefly looked after him, then shook his head.
"I think friend Meerk is feeling outnumbered," he said to Tamrissa, who was also watching Meerk's disappearance. "He and I were having the same sort of argument just before you got here, but I don't expect that either of us changed his mind. If you feel guilty about not being willing to fight, you seem to be compelled to find reasons why fighting is wrong for everyone else as well. Why can't people just pay attention to their own lives, and leave everyone else's alone?"
"They say misery loves company, so possibly that's the reason," Tamrissa replied after taking a deep breath. "I think I'm getting to the point where I don't know anything for certain any longer ... I'll go get Jovvi."
Lorand nodded, then watched her walk away toward the third wagon, still carrying her cup of tea. She paid no attention at all to the rain, even though it was getting closer to sundown. It would soon be too chilly to enjoy being damp, even just on faces and hands. But there were only the people in the last two wagons who still had to be cleared of the lethe, and some of them were already sitting up and trying to come out of it on their own. Once that major chore was done, they could see about setting up rainproof accommodations for everyone.
Jovvi came out of the wagon slowly and carefully, but she seemed to be doing at least as well as Lorand was if not better. There was joy for Lorand in just sitting and watching her, though he would have enjoyed a few minutes of privacy with her even more. He couldn't yet think about how close he'd come to losing her to some horrible, nameless fate, not without being filled with the most terrible rage. What had been done to him might eventually be overlooked and forgotten about, but what they'd almost done to the woman he loved... No, Lorand wasn't about to come around to Meerk's way of looking at things.
"Well, don't just sit there being lazy," Jovvi said to him with a smile when she and Tamrissa stopped near him. "If we're going to do some questioning, let's do it."
"At your service, dama," he replied with a grin, then patted the tarpaulin to his left. "Sit and join me, and we can have the ones we question come to us. It's the least they can do, since they're the ones responsible for making us feel like this."
"That's a good idea," she agreed with a small laugh. "Except for one thing: they're all chained in place. If we have one of them come over, the rest have to come with him."
"All right, then I suppose we'll have to do the going," Lorand pretended to complain as he levered himself to his feet. "Let's get it over with, so we can come back and sit down again."
Jovvi nodded with complete understanding and agreement, and also took his hand as they walked toward the unconscious guardsmen. Tamrissa walked with them, of course, still holding her cup of tea. The guardsman who was struggling to awaken was in the far row in the center, so Lorand stopped and prodded at him just a little with his talent.
"This is the one we want to ask the first question of," he said. "Did you catch his reaction?"
"I certainly did," she agreed, then turned her head to look over at Tamrissa. "Tamma, dear, would you be so kind as to ask the questions once I have him and the next one under control? I'm really too tired to do it myself, and I think Lorand is in the same condition."
"I'll also try to make it as short as possible, so you two can rest for a while," Tamrissa agreed, putting her hand briefly to Jovvi's arm. "Go ahead and get started, so we can be finished faster."
Jovvi smiled her agreement, and a moment later they had the identity of the leader of the convoy. Lorand put the guardsman back to sleep, and they all walked the five feet to where the leader lay. There was a difference in the collar decorations of his uniform, which was obviously supposed to tell people that he was in charge, but Lorand and the others hadn't the least idea of what any of the insignia meant. This man was one of those whom Lorand had had to put more deeply asleep, so now he reversed the process and then Jovvi took over. That became clear when the man sat up, looking at Tamrissa expectantly.
"You were in charge of this convoy?" Tamrissa started with, returning the man's gaze coolly. "If so, tell me where it was going."
"Yes, I am in charge the man corrected at once, very little friendliness to be seen in his manner. "Our destination was and still is Quellin." _
"What's at Quellin?" Tamrissa asked next, apparently having no interest in arguing with the man. "And I'm also curious about where it is, so tell me everything you know about the place."
"Quellin is a small town built up around the depot we're taking these segments to," the man replied with a nod. "It lies less than a full day's travel from here, along the northwest fork. The Rolris Fork, as you ought to know, is about four hours up the road, and it branches southwest and northwest for a while before both roads turn westerly again."
"I know the Rolris Fork!" Lorand exclaimed, interrupting the narration. "I came to Gan Garee from along the southwest branch, which isn't more than two days from my home district."
"It's the northwest fork I've been asked about," the convoy leader said with mild reproof in his voice. "Quellin is the main depot from which our army has segments supplied, and where they're sent from there depends on where they're needed the most."
"I thought the empire didn't have an army," Tamrissa said, abruptly forgetting about the sip of tea she'd been about to take. "If we do and it needs ... segments, what is it using them for?"
"It's using them for the purpose of extending our borders, of course," the man replied, making it soun
d as though Tamrissa were totally ignorant and innocent. "The barbarians of Astinda, our neighboring realm to the west, are trying to resist becoming civilized, and we certainly can't allow that. So our army takes their realm a few miles and acres at a time, and soon there won't be anything left that isn't part of our empire."
"Are they doing the same with Gracely to the east?" Jovvi put in, apparently forgetting about how tired she was supposed to be.
"Of course," the man answered, still using that same superior tone of voice. "No empire that intends to survive will allow itself to be surrounded by barbarians. Once they're all under our control, our safety will be assured."
"Is that the way you make what our people are doing a good and acceptable thing?" Tamrissa asked, anger clear in her voice. "By calling anyone who isn't part of our empire a barbarian? Just how barbaric are they supposed to be? What do they do to earn the name of barbarian?"
"That isn't any of my concern," the man returned, the expression on his middle-aged face totally uncaring. "My superiors tell me they're barbarians in those places, and I have no reason to doubt that. I only care about what's best for my own country, and leaving potential enemies free to cause trouble isn't in my country's best interests."
"How do you know they'd become our enemies?" Lorand was forced to put in himself, just as disturbed as the women were. "And how do you know that they'd make trouble? No, don't bother answering me, I already know what the real answer is. Your ... superiors want to take over their countries, and as the people there probably tried to resist, that makes them enemies. So what are we going to do about all this? Just because they won't have this group of us to fight for them, that won't do anything to stop them from using the people they've already taken control of."
"We'll have to have a talk with the others," Jovvi said, she and Tamrissa both knowing that the last of his words had been addressed to them. "In fact, we'll probably do best having a general meeting. If you'll put this one back to sleep, we can see about arranging it right now."
Lorand nodded and put the convoy leader back to sleep as requested, then he followed Tamrissa and Jovvi as they went to speak to Rion and Valiant. It would have felt better to go back and sit down, but Lorand had the feeling that none of them were going to be sitting around relaxing for quite some time....
Twenty-seven
Our proposed meeting was delayed when it began to rain hard again. Most of the newly awakened—which meant almost all of the former prisoners—were having trouble getting around, and there wasn't anything like a tarpaulin big enough to make a reasonably dry meeting area. Lorand finally came up with the idea of rearranging the entire camp, since the guardsmen and drivers—our new prisoners—had to be sheltered from the weather along with everyone else. Leaving those particular prisoners to drown wouldn't have bothered too many people, but if you're going to kill someone it ought to be on purpose, not by accident.
So we moved all the wagons around until they were backed into a semicircle, as close a one as we could manage, and used the single tarpaulin over our sleeping prisoners. Everyone attending the meeting clustered around the opening in the back of their respective wagons, and we five stood in the open space in the middle. Or at least Rion, Valiant, and I stood. Jovvi and Lorand sat on wooden crates we'd found in the supply wagon, and Rion thickened the air above us to keep us dry.
"All right, people, we have two decisions that need makin' right now," Valiant said loudly enough for everyone to hear. He had the loudest voice among us, so he was the natural choice to run the meeting. "We know there's pursuit comin' from Gan Garee, and because of a spy in our midst, they know where this place is. We have to leave as soon as possible and find a safer place to rest for a while, so that's the first of your decisions. Who's comin' with us, and who's goin' back to give them a second chance to make the slavery work this time?"
A lot of voices spoke at the same time, much of it in protest, and then one voice rose above the rest.
"You're just trying to frighten us!" that voice, coming from a thin, balding man, insisted. "We have nothing but the claims of a group of strangers to say that that was what the officials were doing, and nothing at all to show that our being here isn't a mistake. I say we all have to go back and ask someone to straighten out the mistake."
"All right, let's say it was a mistake," Valiant granted, but not in a gentle, friendly tone. "Someone somewhere made a big mistake, and if you go back they'll fall all over themselves fixin' it. But on the other hand—What do you plan to do if it wasn't a mistake, and they tell you to drink what they give you and then lie down like a good slave?"
"That can't happen," the man persisted, his own tone completely inflexible. "This is the capital and our government we're talking about, not some group of rabble. It has to be a mistake, and if we go back they'll straighten it out."
"In other words, you're not capable of imaginin' anythin' that doesn't fit into the idea you've already made up your mind about," Valiant told him very flatly, without the least bit of gentleness. "In that event I suppose you should go back, and they'll make sure you don't pass on that very dangerous trait to any children. Is there anyone else foolish enough to go along with this man? If there is, I suggest you all get together in the same wagon."
"He isn't foolish, and there are too many of us for just one wagon," a woman said stiffly, a woman who looked young but had an air of command about her. "We aren't just anyone, we're important, so they aren't about to just ignore what was done to us. The empire needs us, and just because some fool made a stupid error is no reason not to let his superiors correct it. They'll be very relieved when we get back safely, and we'll be comfortable while the rest of you run and hide like mindless animals."
"Ah, so it's a mistake because you're important," Valiant said, looking at her in the same way he'd looked at the man. "If you really were all that important, you would have noticed by now that the 'stupid mistake' happened to an awful lot of people. But you aren't important, not really, not to the nobility in Gan Garee. What you are is a High talent, and they're afraid of Highs, so they deliberately got rid of you. If that's what you want to go back to, be my guest. Just don't try lyin' to yourself out where I can hear it. I spent too long a time there not to know the truth."
The woman clamped her lips together stubbornly, the thin man beside her showing the same expression, but some of the others were looking less certain. Three of them, a woman and two men, had been whispering together, and now the woman stepped forward.
"They won't need quite as many wagons as they think," she said, only glancing at the stubborn two. "Some of us have been talking over what you said, and it might have been a mistake if only a few of us were Highs. But with every one of us the same, it can't possibly be the fault of one ignorant underling. Our being here is deliberate, and we're not about to give them a second chance at us."
Quite a few mutters of agreement came after her words, and the first couple looked offended and affronted. They seemed to be the sort who had to be right all the time, no matter how ridiculous a stance they'd taken. They glared around at some of the others, apparently trying to get people to back down and change their minds, but the tactic didn't work.
"Now I'm hearin' some common sense," Valiant said after the second woman had finished speaking, giving her a supporting smile as well. "At one time or another everyone steps into it accidentally, but only a damn' fool does it on purpose. But here with us, you two and anyone else has the right to be as big a bunch of fools as you like, so I suggest you get goin' back to Gan Garee right now. How many wagons will you be needin'?"
"I'll let you know as soon as I see how many are going to be smart and return with us," the woman said, her tone still stiff as she turned to look around at everyone. "I need a show of hands, please, to get an accurate count."
The thin man beside her raised his hand deliberately, but he turned out to be the only one who did. Some avoided meeting the woman's gaze and some stared straight at her, bu
t no one else raised a hand.
"Looks like there are fewer fools here than either of us thought," Valiant drawled, not quite showing his amusement. "Since there are only two of you, you can have one wagon. And since we'll be discussin' things we don't want passed on to the guardsmen who'll be greetin' you soon, you'd better take the wagon and leave now."
"But how are we supposed to handle a wagon this size all alone?'' the thin man complained, righteous anger mixed in with dismay. "I've never driven myself anywhere in my life, and Galeen here certainly can't manage it. You'll have to send someone with us to do the driving."
"If any of these people were foolish enough to let me send them anywhere, they'd already be goin' with you," Valiant pointed out. "If you don't think you can handle a wagon, you can take the coach some of us came here in. Or you can have a couple of the saddle horses those guardsmen were usin'. Just make up your minds and get goin', so the rest of us can finish this meetin' and get on our own way."
"A coach would be just as bad as a wagon, and I can't ride a horse," the woman, Galeen, announced very flatly and angrily. "You're doing all you can to keep us here, and I, for one, resent it furiously. You have no right to—"
"Stop right there," Valiant interrupted, even more flatly than she'd spoken. "I've given you all sorts of options to let you leave us, but you've found somethin' wrong with all of them. That means you know how stupid your idea of goin' back is, but you refuse to admit it. We have no time to deal with spiteful little children, so either grow up and start actin' responsibly, or walk away and let us do it alone. Whichever, it has to be done now."
Once again the woman's lips tightened, but this time she said nothing. The anger in her eyes had been joined by disturbance that looked out of place, as though no one had ever made her be responsible for her own actions before. The thin man glanced at her in uncertainty, but when she failed to return that glance he shifted his gaze to the bottom of the wagon he stood in and didn't say another word.