Star Hunters

by Clayton, Jo;

  Chapter V

  The hares moved slowly over the plain, a great white flood eating anything their teeth could tear out of the red earth. They swarmed over planted fields, stripping the plants from the earth, digging out even the roots. They tore at the juapepo, ignoring the blasts of pain and fear that ordinarily drove off attackers. They flowed along, leaving desert behind, eating, eating, eating, day and night, never stopping, swarming over the empty Holdings, leaving only the poison-thorned emwilea, turning the fragile valley from dry land to desert, on and on, endlessly, mindlessly moving north, flowing toward Kiwanji.

  In the Fa shrine, high above the valley floor, the Fa-men gathered and beat their drums and looked down at the creeping hoard with fear and a queasy satisfaction. For them Fa was purifying the land, purging from the Sawasawa the weak-willed and the evil, leaving the strong survivors to throw aside the last remnants of corrupting technology. When the great haremarch was done, they would start the Vodufa again, living by the work of their hands, working with stone and iron and bronze. The Fa-men watched and saw themselves as the inheritors of the people, the blessed of Fa, the pure ones divinely destined to mould the remnant into a great people. And in the meantime, the Kichwash of the Fa-bands maneuvered subtly for higher places in the pecking order.

  On the plain the two wings of the hare herd creeping down both sides of the river began to curve around to circle Kiwanji, visible in blue distance a day or two away.

  Aleytys sat still for some time after Manoreh had charged off. The breeze was cool and the sharp green smells of the garden pleasant. She was very tired. The trip out had been difficult. Grey had been distantly friendly, a colleague not a lover. As if he’d never been a lover. She found it harder to flush out of her memory the good times and the bad. Especially the bad times. The quarrels and his demands on her, demands she could not really understand or respond to, that she was unwilling even to try to respond to. Sitting in the garden she felt again the suppressed anger and depression. No one to talk to about it. The Three.…

  She stroked her temple. For the first time they refused to talk to her, those captive spirits of the diadem. Her friends. “I need you. Harskari? Shadith? Swardheld? I need you. Please?” She closed her eyes and sought them in the darkness of her head. Nothing.

  Sithing, she unpinned her braids and combed her fingers through the red-gold mass, smiling with pleasure as the breeze lifted fine strands and blew them about her face. It was good to be back in touch with the feel and smell of living things. She pushed down her discomfort and tried to enjoy the moment of quiet. The garden was filled with quiet night noises, the rustling of the plants, the humming of invisible insects. She stroked the cool grass and felt her brief pleasure draining away. The bushes began stirring on their multiple stems, rattling seed pods in disturbing arrhythmic patterns that had little connection with the gusting of the breeze. They picked up her disturbance and tossed it back to her, snatched it again, and built it and built it until she was alone, unloving, unloved.…

  She jumped up and ran to the long window-door, the garden turning sour behind her. Where the thick drape hung, the glass was a pale mirror. She touched her face and frowned, examining her features in the ghostly reflection. Her mouth was pinched, looked lipless. Her eyes were dull, set in spreading dark stains. She ran her hands nervously over her body. Her breasts sagged as her shoulders curved forward. There was a roll of flesh around her waist. She stood like a lump.

  Shaking, chilled, hands and feet numb, mind numb, feeling bloated, ugly, she turned from the window and moved uncertainly about the garden. Her knees shook. She collapsed in a heap in the center of the grass, holding tight to herself, tears slipping silently down her cheeks, clinging to her skin.

  She wept on and on, wallowing in her miseries, the cycle repeating over and over until her body chilled into a physical depression as deep as the mental one.

  “Aleytys!” Harskari’s annoyed voice cut sharply through the diadem’s chime. “Stop this nonsense.” In the heavy darkness of Aleytys’s mind, the narrow austere face of the long dead sorceress formed around snapping amber eyes.

  Aleytys shivered. The diadem was once again the agonizing trap it had been for her in the beginning of her involuntary custody of this soul trap created by a jealous man a million years dead. And the three souls trapped inside were hell-born sprites haunting her, spying on her, never leaving her alone. She tried to block out the waves-of fear, anger, hate, despair that washed over her in beats, round and round on an ascending spiral that surged toward infinity.

  “Aleytys!” Harskari’s disembodied voice was filled with disgust. She waited a moment. “Stop this, daughter.” Then the imaged face nodded slowly. “So. I must. Obviously you can’t help yourself.”

  Aleytys felt a nudge. Then she was plunged into silence and darkness, shoved aside in her own body. She protested feebly and was ignored. Crouched in darkness, bathing in pain and horror, she felt her body rise and cross to the glass door.

  The door clicked shut behind her and her body dropped heavily onto the couch. Harskari withdrew her control. “Take hold, daughter!”

  Weakly Aleytys fitted herself back into her body. The experience in the garden had shaken her badly. In all the trials of a turbulent life she’d never come so close to losing herself. She sat gazing down at hands that opened, closed, and opened again. “You waited long enough to say something.”

  “You were letting yourself drown.” Harskari ignored the complaint and frowned impatiently. “That was wholly unnecessary.”

  “I suppose so.” Aleytys spoke aloud even though the other voice existed only in her head. “Well?” She touched her face, then crossed her arm over her breasts and closed her eyes.

  Harskari’s amber eyes seemed to retreat and the lines of her face grew hazy. Then other eyes opened. Purple eyes in an elfin face surrounded by flyaway red-gold curls. Shadith the poet-singer. And black eyes in a rugged scarred face. Swardheld Weaponmaster.

  “I think it’s time.” Harskari’s voice was taut with distaste. The others nodded.

  With her eyes closed Aleytys saw them standing as if in a dim room with guessed-at walls lost in deep shadow. The three were watching her. She had a sense of being on trial. “What is this?”

  Shadith and Swardheld glanced at Harskari then retreated into shadow. Harskari’s eyes narrowed. “Aleytys,” she said, “we’ve been with you for over five years now.”

  “What can any of us do about that?”

  “If I knew.…” A narrow, dark hand lifted and fell, a quick expression of her frustration. “I’m only an approximation of what I was.” Another swift pass of her hand wiped this away. “We wish to make sure that the damage we do to you is minimized.”

  “Damage?” Aleytys frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand. We are friends. Aren’t we?” She swallowed. “We’ve talked a lot the past few years.”

  “Ween you needed us.” The golden-eyed sorceress did not soften her grim expression.

  “There were times when I’d have gone crazy without someone to talk to, someone I didn’t have to.…”

  “Didn’t have to pretend courtesy and calm with, didn’t have to protect yourself from when you couldn’t endure the sight and feel of yourself.”

  “You helped me.”

  “You turned us off and on like your vid set.”

  “No, it wasn’t like that.…”

  “We were your crutch. You didn’t need to go out and exert yourself or expose your weaknesses and your ugliness to people who might reject or ridicule you. You didn’t need to let yourself be vulnerable. We were there. As you said, we were always there.” Harskari sighed and relaxed. Her image wavered, then she smiled.

  Aleytys felt a warmth flow through her body as she responded to the smile. She started to sit up, thinking the scolding had ended.

  Harskari sighed again. “I like you, Aleytys. If we’d met another way, we might really have been friends.” The amber eyes moved to meet purple and b
lack. “Perhaps that’s true for all of us. Nevertheless, we have seriously damaged you in spite of our good will. Remember what you shouted at Grey that last time you quarreled?”

  I don’t need you, I don’t need anybody. The memory hung between them for a moment, then Aleytys said, “I was angry, I didn’t really mean it.”

  “Even if you didn’t mean it, you wanted it to be true. You’re terrified of depending on anyone you can’t control. And we’ve pampered that terror.” Harskari looked rueful. “We enjoyed too much our talks with you. We enjoyed too much experiencing life again through you. We encouraged you to depend on us.”

  “There was so much I had no way of knowing, so many situations I simply couldn’t cope with.”

  “Exactly. So much you couldn’t cope with.” Harskari’s amber eyes sparkled with annoyance. “On Jaydugar you took your first steps from the womb of your childhood. You survived many difficulties on your own. Then.…” She sighed, her eyes went dull. “Then we came. After a while it was easier for you to lean on us, to let us pick up after you like overindulgent parents. Instead of continuing to mature, you retreated to the safety of your childhood where there was always someone to protect you from the consequences of your errors and stupidities.”

  Aleytys twisted her head back and forth against the couch cushions. “No,” she whispered. “It wasn’t you. My mother said.…”

  “Ah!” Once again the amber eyes were flashing. “We’ve heard that excuse a thousand times. Forget it. You weren’t raised in your mother’s culture. And you’ve disproved what she said a dozen times. Think, Aleytys! Remember your past! Cold and loveless, hah! Only when you had us to spend your affection on! Take responsibility for yourself, Aleytys. You’re the sum of what you think and feel. Your mother, nonsense! You never even knew her. Think of Vajd. He raised you. He holds more of you than your mother ever will. Learn who you are, Aleytys. Open your eyes. Don’t let others set your limits.” Harskari grew calmer. She glanced once again at the others. A sadness flowed between them. One by one they nodded.

  “Head’s concern kicked us out of our complacency,” Harskari went on. “We chewed the situation to shreds but finally came to a painful decision. We must break this dependency of yours, force you to stand on your own feet. Pick up the threads of your life where we broke them, Aleytys. We will not speak to you again. We will not come to your call. In short, daughter, you’re on your own. Farewell.” The word trailed off as her image melted away.

  Aleytys clutched at the couch, drenched with sweat in her sudden panic. “Shadith,” she called urgently. “Don’t leave me. Not all alone. I need you.”

  “Farewell, Lee.” The purple eyes closed and she was gone.

  “Swardheld, teacher.…”

  The Weaponmaster looked tired. “Freyka, I’ve got very fond of you.” He grinned like a hungry bear. “Been times …” He shook his head. “Never mind. Good faring, little one. You can handle anything you set your mind to.” The black eyes closed and he was gone with the others.

  Aleytys dug her hands into the cushions and twisted them, sobbing and afraid. The comforting sense of presence that had eased her for so long was gone. She was alone.

  “Lee, what.…” Grey’s voice.

  She brushed hastily at her eyes and sat up. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “You were too busy talking to them.” He turned away, bitter.

  She felt a flare of anger burning, ready to burst at him. “Be glad, then. It’s the last time.” Her low voice was full of pain.

  Without a word he was across the room and beside her on the couch. He pulled her against his chest and held her until her shaking stopped. “Want to talk about it?” he murmured, his breath blowing warm across her hair.

  She shook her head, her face still buried in the tunic of his shipsuit. “Not yet.”

  He stroked her hair, then settled her back against the cushions and slid away himself to the far end of the couch where he could watch her. “What did you learn from the Ranger?”

  Chapter VI

  The hares came on endlessly, creeping through the night. Some were laboring now and would soon die, unnoticed cells dropping from the body of the vast beast. The herd across the river plunged in, swimming and drowning indifferently, moving around the city to settle on the north side. The other herd narrowed and lengthened as the great valley narrowed. Beyond Kiwanji a series of escarpments sealed off the plain and beyond them the mountains rose in pale blue waves. The leaders began to curve about Kiwanji to meet the other hares.

  They crouched wearily, licking at bleeding paws and ragged fur, then closed their bulging brown eyes and slept for the first time during the long march. Behind them, still coming on, the great herd crept along, stirring up vast clouds of red dust.

  Manoreh glulped at the hot cha but it did nothing to warm the stony chill from his body. He set the mug down on the arm of his chair and relaxed. Across the long common room Faiseh stood looking out a window.

  Manoreh slid his fingers up and down the hot glaze on the mug. “See any hares on the coast last time you were there?”

  Faiseh turned, looking mischievous. “You come roaring in here like a sand rat’s got his teeth sunk in a tender spot. Then you don’t say a word for a double handful of minutes. Now you come out with this.” He shook his head. “No, couz, I haven’t seen any hares on the coast. Nothing much for them there anyway. Lot of rock, no water. Only water’s on the islands. ’Less the hares swim, the island settlements are safe enough.” He chuckled. “Given they don’t kill each other off.”

  “That bad?”

  “Like nothing you ever saw, couz.” He moved to a chair and sat down, lifting his feet to rest them on the other end of the same table. “You going to tell me why you asked?”

  “I saw one line of hares after another coming out of the mountains.”

  “Hunh! So you think Haribu could be in the mountains. Where’d you see them?”

  “Going down foothills near the Chumquivir.”

  “So.” Faiseh slapped both hands down on his thighs. “Meme Kalamah, first bit of luck since those walks started.” Then he scowled. “We got to get out and go after him. If we have to crawl over the testre Dallan.”

  Manoreh drained his cup. “He has to let me out to swallow the ghost.”

  “How you doing?”

  “Could be better, couz.” He massaged his arm. “Feeling is going. Mmh. Pick up mounts at Kobe’s Holding?”

  “Why not here?”

  “Groundcar. We’ve got to get through the hares fast.”

  “You should have left hours ago.”

  “I know. I meant to.”

  “But got sidetracked.” Faiseh looked down at his broad, blunt hands. “Dallan can be a bastard. He don’t like admitting the ghost thing can be done.”

  “When I hit the guardian of our morals for the groundcar, I’m going to be walking stone.” Manoreh grinned tiredly. “He’ll come through, bet you.”

  “Hunh. No chance. Last time I tried betting you I walked away with my skin and lucky to keep it. What about the Hunters?”

  “No.” Manoreh began pacing up and down the narrow room. “Sending a woman!”

  Faiseh shrugged. “That one’s worth having with us. Eat Haribu and spit out the bones.”

  “I don’t want her along.”

  “Never thought splitting off a ghost rotted the brain. At best we can’t leave before morning. Want to guess how many hares will be out there then? Got a feeling we’ll need the Hunters, her for sure, to get us through. You got any better ideas?”

  Manoreh flung out his hands. “All right, couz, they come. Satisfied?”

  “Happier than I was. I don’t fancy trying to sneak up on Haribu with a couple of darters and a lot of hope.”

  “Fool.”

  “Start practicing, couz. You got to get it right, got to look like you’re about to freeze solid, or Dallan will miss the point. He’s not too bright, the dear little man.”

  Mano
reh grinned. He began walking again, his movements getting stiffer and more unnatural. When Faiseh pronounced him convincing enough to be sure Dallan would notice something was wrong, Manoreh grinned at his friend then stalked stiff-legged out of the room.

  Chapter VII

  The predawn morning was cool and quiet. In the flickering light from the single torch, the groundcar was a featureless shadow humming quietly beside the dark guardtower. Aleytys rubbed her hands along her arms, a little chilly but enjoying the crispness of the air. She felt apprehensive and elated at the same time, anticipating the beginning of her first Hunt. She glanced at Faiseh who was shifting uneasily from foot to foot, mustache twitching, watching the silent line of small individual houses where the teachers and apprentices lived.

  “What’s keeping us here?” Grey sounded impatient. Aleytys smiled to herself. He was as jumpy as she was, wanting to begin, resenting the need to hang around waiting uselessly.

  “Manoreh,” the Watuk Ranger said crisply. His eyes lifted to the sky, paling very slightly along the line of roofs. “I’ll go see what’s holding him up.” Without waiting for an answer he trotted off toward a house on the far end of the line. Its shape was a dark smudge in the deep shadow beside the taller stable.

  Aleytys watched the chunky little man fade into the shadow and felt another chill that had nothing to do with the bite of the air. She walked briskly back and forth beside the groundcar with Grey watching quietly, saying nothing, standing deliberately still. He kept his back to the green glow strengthening gradually above the roofs. Aleytys smiled tentatively at him. “Grey.…”

  “Get the back door open.” Faiseh was coming back, supporting his taller friend. Manoreh was moving with considerable difficulty. The stiffness he’d counterfeited before was becoming real. Faiseh muscled him along toward the ground-car. “Move,” he grunted.

  As Aleytys set her hand on the latch, a slender figure came through the narrow crack in the gate and moved quickly, gracefully to the group by the car. A watuk woman with shimmering silver highlights gleaming along her cheekbones and a long elegance of bone and a grace of movement that enchanted Aleytys and at the same time made her feel once more a lump of mud. The woman wore a long rectangle of patterned material wound around her body and tied in a roll knot over her breasts. “I’m going with you,” she said quietly. Aleytys felt the intense emotion behind the smooth face, but the woman spoke without emphasis and stood gently relaxed as she confronted them. “We both are.” A small boy came shyly around her and stood looking up at Manoreh.