"I will be there," she promised, and turned away.
The Meddler spent the time before darkness securing a pair of riding horses from one of the fields. He tied them behind the bunkhouse. He found tack and saddlebags, and packed these with good things from the abundant gelds. He even made up a cozy bedroll, thrilling a little at the thought of what it would see that night.
After dark, the two lovers came - first Letu, then Vitzi. Both were nervous, but when the Meddler explained his plan, they looked at each other with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation, their hands reaching unconsciously to clasp.
"Can we really do this?" said Letu. "Just ride away?"
"Of course," said the Meddler. "Go to a place where there is a disdu who can link you in marriage. When you are wed by both law and by love, then your parents cannot separate you."
"I know such a place," Vitzi said shyly. "It is a small temple where I stayed when I was coming here to live. The temple is maintained by a kidisdu who prefers the company of birds to that of people, but he is a kind man, and surely he will welcome us."
"It is a good omen," rejoiced the Meddler, "for many birds mate for life. Go there and be happy."
The young pair rode away, and the Meddler slept well, with very pleasant dreams. He intended to be away shortly before dawn, for he did not wish to be questioned about the whereabouts of the young lovers.
But that night there was thunder and there was lightning. The winds howled and the rains fell in torrents. Tornadoes howled and carried cattle and horses into the sky. The Meddler feared to go out in such weather, and so Olenu found him in the bunkhouse when he sought him there in the morning.
"Where is my son?" Olenu bellowed. "Where is Vitzi? You helped them get away. Don't even try to deny it. I have found those among the servants who saw you carrying things here and there, even one who saw you leading a pair of horses. Speak from your own desire or I will have the information beaten from you!"
The Meddler did not doubt this was true, but he held his silence, thinking nobly that every word he withheld gave the young lovers more time to escape. Olenu raised a hand as if to strike the Meddler, then he lowered it. He ceased shouting, but the levelness of his tone was no less terrible.
"Let me tell you something, Traveler, for I can see in your eyes that you are one of those who would believe himself righteous for taking a beating in silence."
The Meddler straightened proudly, glad he was cutting such a noble figure.
Olenu continued. "Anyhow, I can always beat you later. Would you like to know the history of the girl called Vitzi and why I do not wish my son to marry her? I will tell it to you then. Vitzi is the love child of my wife, the fruit of an indiscretion early in our marriage."
"Early..."
The farmer smiled a touch cruelly. "Vitzi was conceived shortly after Letu was weaned. My wife was suffering mind phantoms and dark sorrows, as some women do after a child is born. In this state, she was easily seduced by a man who no longer walks this earth. There was one problem that kept my wife from hiding her infidelity from me. I was serving in the army, far from home, for the better part of a year during the time the little one must have been conceived. My wife and I had reasons to remain married, and so rather than divorce in disgrace and anger, my wife went away for a time. Vitzi was raised by strangers.
"A few years ago, Vitzi's foster parents died. My wife begged me to have the girl brought here for her final training, and in order that a good marriage could be arranged for her. I agreed. My wife had been faithful and good to me in the years that followed her one error, and the deities enjoin us to compassion and mercy. We brought Vitzi here and introduced her as the orphaned daughter of friends.
"Letu became infatuated with Vitzi, but more the fool I, I did not notice. I knew nothing of his feelings until the boy - and I call him one, though you would certainly name him a young man - came to me yesterday, begging my permission to make Vitzi his bride. I refused. He could not wed his own half-sister."
The Meddler straightened and tossed back his head. "And there you were a fool. Since when has refusal ever cooled the heart of love? I found Letu by the gate, sobbing out his heart, doubtless thinking of taking to the road to soothe his aching heart."
"Better if he had," Olenu said with ice in his voice. "I suspect rather that Letu was thinking of running off and putting his suit to his mother, hoping she would see matters differently than did I. Doubtless your finding him crying like a child put shame in him."
"Even so," the Meddler replied, no less proud, "I am glad to have helped the young couple. The deities will not punish them for their innocent love."
"What do you think this is then?" Olenu said, waving his arm wildly at the storms that still raged all around. "Don't you understand even now? I explained the situation to the boy. Vitzi is innocent, but Letu knew. He knew!"
PLIK FINISHED HIS STORY on that dramatic note, and Firekeeper highly approved. There was no need to tell more. The point was made.
"So this Meddler," she said aloud, "is not bad person, but dangerous one, even so."
Harjeedian made a disapproving sound. "Dangerous can be very bad, especially for an organized society."
'True," Firekeeper said. "What I mean is he do what he think is good, but he not learn enough and he cause harm instead. He not think."
"That's how I see it," Plik agreed. "I chose that story from those I have read, because it was fairly representative of the Meddler's actions."
Firekeeper moved to where she could see Truth.
"What about you, great cat? You are the one who may know more than any of us. Have you any wisdom with which to guide us? "
Truth did not reply with so much as a whisker twitch, but Eshinarvash, who had been so quiet for these days of travel that Firekeeper occasionally had to remind herself that he was not one of Cousin-kind, gave a great shuddering sigh and shook out his mane.
"It seems to me that whoever was buried there beneath the earth - although I still have difficulty with the idea that one could be so buried for such a long time and live - it seems to me that the person's plans were very well laid, very carefully thought out. Is this the Meddler's pattern?"
Plik spoke, and Firekeeper jumped slightly. She kept forgetting in this company, where Plik so often spoke in the human languages, that she was not the only one who had the ability. Indeed, Blind Seer had teased her that Plik spoke the human languages far better than Firekeeper did.
"Well laid if we simply look at getting him out of that place," Plik said, "but perhaps not so if we look at the larger consequences. Remember there were six figurines. Two of those are broken and represent pawns that have died. One represents a queen driven into exile and a diminishment of power. The last we know of represents a certain jaguar who, if my nose does not deceive me, feels no great love for this Voice who may also be the Meddler."
"True," Eshinarvash said, "and did he - Voice or Meddler - expect the finding of that place to also be the finding of those figurines? As the tale was told, Firekeeper found them beneath running water, hidden away as best anything could be hidden in that place. Could the Voice have known she would grow so curious about the path of running water? I think not."
Blind Seer, who had been suffering some from the heat, and so had fallen silent, spoke with a certain amount of pride. "If the Voice had known my Firekeeper, he would have expected her to look there, but I do not think he knows her - of her, perhaps, but if he knows her it is through the tools she helped to break. Melina, at least, underestimated any who stood against her and that was her undoing. Had she been content to visit New Kelvin quietly, we might never have been sent against her and her hunt for power would have been successful."
Plik raised a paw. "A moment. Our human friends grow restive."
Firekeeper was content to let Plik do the translating. She looked over at Truth. The jaguar's silence was peculiar, more than could be explained by the fact that the jaguar was traveling by day and over a greater distance than would usually be
her wont.
Firekeeper wished for a sense of smell acute enough to tell her something of the jaguar's mood. Freshly reminded that there were many who would overhear her should she ask Blind Seer his opinion, she held her questions until they should be alone.
Alone. Firekeeper went to where Blind Seer was keeping up his steady pace. He was panting hard.
"Rest," she suggested. "You can find us again come nightfall."
"Promise you won't do anything foolish?" the wolf asked, already slackening his pace and veering toward the shady growth alongside the road.
"Promise," Firekeeper replied. "At least not without you."
XI
WATCHING THE SHAGGY GREY WOLF VANISH beneath the spreading branches, Plik felt a strong desire to follow. He wasn't habitually nocturnal, but the maimalodalum rarely pushed through the heat of the day as humans seemed to do at need. But then what need did the maimalodalum have to push and hurry? Their community wasn't huge. Those of the yarimaimalom who hunted regularly shared their surplus. Remnants of orchards planted long ago still gave fruit and nuts. Foraging brought in other foods. Their own garden patches rounded out the rest.
Center Island offered ample habitations, either after the fashion of the yarimaimalom or in the towers or other semi-ruined structures. What maintenance must be done rarely forced the need for working in the heat or rain. Those of the maimalodalum who were scholarly by inclination, as Plik was, found plenty to occupy their remaining time.
In all his long life, Plik could not ever recall a time when he had continued to move on when he was weary, had gone without food or drink because there was no time to stop. Indeed, although his body might manage to masquerade as human, his habits were anything but.
But, he thought as he tried to find at least one part of his backside that wasn't saddle-bruised, there are compensations for the discomfort of these hours in the saddle. Many compensations indeed. I have heard the eagles and ospreys talk of human farms and fields, but it is another thing to see them for oneself. And the buildings! I know we have bypassed the larger towns and villages, but even the temple complexes where we have stopped are remarkable. No wonder both Harjeedian and Derian referred to the towers on Center Island as "ruins." By their standards, they were.
As the days of riding passed, Plik was relieved to find that he did adjust to this strange mode of travel. He learned to adjust to the different gaits of his mounts, and he could let go his death grip on the reins and saddle horn to drink from his canteen or snack on some of the goodies he started keeping in his pockets. He might never have Derian's unconscious comfort on horseback, but he no longer felt quite so punished.
Once they crossed the border out of Liglim into the city-states, things changed. The people of the city-states had heard of the yarimaimalom, many had even seen them, but they did not have the Liglimom's familiarity and trust of the intelligent beasts. Blind Seer and Truth inspired a certain amount of apprehension. Eshinarvash awakened envy and covetousness. The ravens simply kept their distance, knowing full well that a raven high overhead was nothing more than black against sky.
However, Harjeedian and Derian proved very competent in dealing with the authorities in each location. Alone but for the watchful ravens, they would enter the governing city. The rest of the expedition was left outside, where the presence of the jaguar and wolf - and Firekeeper poised nonchalantly "in charge" - meant that any local soldiery did not come close enough to penetrate Plik's disguise.
Occasionally, they were taunted by some of the locals who felt a need to prove that their land was not in awe of the looming power across the river. In these cases, Plik was fairly certain that Firekeeper alone could not have guaranteed they remained untouched, but even when they moved farther from the border, stories of the Liglimom's intense reverence for the Wise Beasts had spread. Not even the most arrogant solider would invite certain war to prove that he or she was not afraid of a big, spotted cat.
But despite careful research at each stop, they did not find what they sought in the first city-state they visited, nor in the second, or third. Truth was their guide in choosing each destination, but she was hardly a reliable one.
"How can I guide you to what I myself have not seen? " she snarled one evening when questions at the archives in the second city had garnered them nothing. Firekeeper was restive, and as was often the case at such times, less than diplomatic. "I must go by what I feel, and I feel a certainty that we are going in the correct direction. Go back to Misheemnekuru. Run and howl with the wolves if you do not have the patience for a great hunt."
Needless to say, Firekeeper did not leave, nor did Trudi's harsh words soothe her bruised nerves. She took to avoiding the jaguar, hinting less than subtly that she felt the great cat knew far more than she was admitting. Plik agreed with Firekeeper, but he felt it was less than tactful to say so, even obliquely.
Keeping his own doubts to himself, Plik continued his masquerade, wearing a selection of hats and cloaks. He told Meddler tales to distract his companions. When they needed no distraction, he constructed the stories he would tell when he returned to Center Island.
But Plik worried as he watched the tensions build. Everyone knew that when a wolf fought a jaguar, the wolf lost, but what if the combatants were two wolves against one jaguar?
All he knew was that if the matter came to that point, whoever might win the battle, all of them would have lost.
DERIAN WAS ASTONISHED to discover how quickly and efficiently he and Harjeedian worked out a routine for finding out what they needed to know while giving away very little themselves.
At their first stop, the riverside city-state of u-Itura - that is, the Borders - they had very little difficulty getting cooperation. Indeed, the residents were so like the Liglimom that Derian had to remind himself that they were not. Here Harjeedian's prestige as an aridisdu and his relationship to Rahniseeta opened both doors and archives to them. They were able to learn a great deal more about the other nearby city-states, for many of these preferred to trade with the Liglimom through u-Itura rather than do so themselves.
From u-Itura, Truth directed them toward Amseeta - or Rich Earth - a city-state almost directly south. Here the land was nearly flat and very fertile. However, it was poor in metals, and a long policy of clear-cutting for fields meant they were poor of fuel as well. They dried horse and cattle dung for their fires, and lived in a symbiotic state with the next city-state Truth guided them to.
This was Jekuseeta - or Hard Earth - a city-state more to the west. Here much of the soil was rocky, but rich in metals and valuable minerals. Timber, too, was plentiful, for who would cut down forests to create rocky fields? Derian wondered aloud why the two lands did not merge and learned more than he wished about their longstanding religious - or was it political? - differences. As long as each could view itself as getting the better of any deal, the residents lived in a peculiar harmony, but when either drew ahead, then there was ample excuse for war.
Really, it's not all that unlike the situation between Hawk Haven and Bright Bay, Derian thought. What kept us apart for so long other than the fact that those who founded the lands had reasons to hate each other? No wonder there are times Firekeeper looks at humans as if we all have rabies.
In each of these city-states, the burden for investigation fell on the two human members of the expedition. Usually, the greater part of the group would wait outside of the city itself - for true to the name the Liglimom had given them, one city ruled the surrounding region, with the majority of the population maintaining a residence of some sort within the city boundaries. Each "country," if they could so be called, was hardly larger than a day's ride in each direction.
I bet the Norwood Grant alone is larger than most of these "states," Derian thought a trace complacently. It was good to know that not every foreign power was immediately a rival.
In the city, Harjeedian would request direction to the nearest temple complex dedicated to the worship of the Divine Elements. There
he would usually be welcomed with a mixture of warmth and respect, the one moderating the other depending on those in charge. Harjeedian would begin by explaining that he was traveling as escort to not merely one, but five of the Wise Beasts.
He usually didn't need to say anything more. Quarters would be found for them and the yarimaimalom, and if Harjeedian requested a certain amount of privacy be given his companions, it would be given. In some cases, Derian thought their hosts were just as glad not to be asked to provide lavish hospitality.
In Truflad - the first place they had been where the name did not derive from Liglimosh - they had been offered a lovely river meadow in which to camp. Nor had they been expected to make do with what they had carried with them. The resident disdum had provided several pavilion-style tents, carpets, heaps of pillows, cots, and would have provided servants as well if Harjeedian had not declined.
Somewhere along the line, their hosts would politely inquire about Derian's foreign appearance - Firekeeper and Plik usually kept out of sight as much as possible - and in the process of explaining, Harjeedian would manage to slip in something that would make the resident aridisdum realize Harjeedian's own relationship to the new junjaldisdu. The already ample hospitality would reach near hysterical levels, for no one wanted to offend the brother of one of the rulers of the much larger power to the immediate north - or the ambassador from the still mysterious but evidently warlike powers farther up the coast.
At first, Derian felt a little uncomfortable about letting these people assume he was the ambassador rather than an assistant, then he realized that it didn't matter. Ambassador Sailor had sent him. Moreover, Ambassador Sailor wasn't present. Derian was the one they saw, the one they needed to impress.
Once the expedition was settled in their quarters or camp - the presence of the yarimaimalom, and a desire to cater to their comfort, meant they camped as often as not - Derian and Harjeedian would start making inquiries after both a place where people dressed after the style of the two unidentified figurines, and after the flame within a flame emblem.
Wolf Hunting Page 17