by Hugh Cook
'Humans can't smell out the Melski,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'Come here, Yen Olass. They've tied me up.’
Yen Olass crept through the darkness, wondering if she really did stink. On reflection, she presumed she probably did. Probably everyone in the Collosnon army was reeking of dirt and sweat, but humans who live in a communal stench seldom notice it. Indeed, when people live continuously in their own sweat, the smells they become particularly sensitive to are artificial scents, perfumes and soaps, which, in a combat zone, can sometime betray a newcomer at thirty paces or more.
'Can you really tell I'm me?' said Yen Olass. 'Or were you just guessing?’
She had not been taught the word for guessing, so she used the word for gambling instead. Hor-hor-hurulg-murg understood.
'I'm good at what I do,' said the Melski.
'That's not a proper answer,' said Yen Olass.
What she actually said, struggling with her limited vocabulary, was 'Your words are smoke', but again the Melski understood.
'It's what you should expect,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'Tarish are known to be glunskoora.’
'What's tarish?' said Yen Olass, getting to work on the knots that secured him. 'What's glunskoora?’
She could not translate these two words from the Galish; they meant 'monster' and 'inscrutable'.
'Later,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg, for, like most people, he did not like having to explain his jokes.
The Melski had a very good idea of what most people thought of them, but, confident in the possession of their own river forests, their own language and their freedom, did not mind making the occasional joke at their own expense.
'Ah,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg, as Yen Olass undid the last knot binding his hands. 'That's good. I'll do the rest.’
'Me next,' said another voice, which Yen Olass recognized immediately. Draven.
'What are you doing here?' said Yen Olass.
'Lord Alagrace left late this afternoon. He was escorting some of our wounded back to Skua. He's going to draw on the reserves we've got waiting there. He wants some men behind him who haven't yet been tainted by mutiny.’
'And?’
'And what do you think?' said Draven. 'Come on, untie me.’
Yen Olass was not at all keen on the idea. She wanted to escape with her Melski friend. She did not at all fancy the company of a murderous and unprincipled pirate like Draven. Nominally, he was her slave, given to her by the Lord Emperor Khmar, but in a world of men that ruling had never meant anything, and once they were in the depths of Looming Forest it would mean even less.
'Where are you?' said Draven, impatiently.
'Here,' said Yen Olass, afraid he would start to shout if she refused him. 'But remember, I saved your life.’
'My life? Nobody's asking you to be a hero.’
'In Favanosin,' said Yen Olass, suspecting that Draven was being deliberately obtuse. 'I saved your life.’
'Did you?"
'In front of Khmar. You know I did.’
'So you saved my life. Come on!’
Yen Olass set to work, wondering what had happened. She supposed Chonjara's faction had taken the opportunity to put some of Lord Alagrace's supporters out of action while they had the chance.
'Were they going to -- what were they going to do to you?’
'Cook us and eat us for all I know,' said Draven, echoing tough-talking words which had originally been the intellectual property of the Rovac warrior, Morgan Hearst. 'They're frightened. Confused. Men are always dangerous when they're like that. The sooner we get out of here the better.’
Yen Olass was aware by now that others were awake, and waiting. She would have to take them all. But once she had set Draven free, he helped, and soon there were plenty of hands to do the work.
'Yen Olass?' said a voice.
'Here,' said Yen Olass.
'Is it really you?' said Resbit.
'It's me.’
And Yen Olass, glad to have at least one female friend in this unreasonable world of men, took Resbit into her arms and hugged her. Breast to breast and cheek to cheek, they embraced each other, protecting each other, comforting each other. Yen Olass wanted to sit down and talk right then and there, and find out everything that had happened to Resbit, but there was no time. The escapers were already slipping out of the tent one by one, and Resbit and Yen Olass had to follow or be left behind.
'Where's Haveros?' said Draven, when they were outside.
'He's not with us,' said Yen Olass.
'I know that,' said Draven, sounding irritated. 'And keep your voice down!’
Which was unfair, since he was talking louder than she was.
'Why do you care, anyway?' said Yen Olass. 'What's he to you?’
'We need him. And the princess, if we can get her. Take them east, to Skua. Lord Alagrace will reward us.’
Td've thought you'd've wanted to run back to your pirate friends,' said Yen Olass.
'It's a long way from here to the Greater Teeth,' said Draven. 'Even for a creature good at running, which isn't me.’
'We'll have a better chance in the forest,' said Yen Olass. 'If we go east, they'll ride us down.’
'We'll take horses ourselves,' said Draven. 'Can't women think of anything?’
'The Lord Khmar--’
'The Lord Khmar can't help you now,' said Draven. 'Stay here. I'm going to look for Haveros and the princess.' He slipped away into the night.
Yen Olass had been about to point out that the Lord Emperor Khmar had been a notable horse thief in his own right, in his younger days; from his youthful success, he had gained valuable experience which had saved his own armies from losing more animals than they had to. As a matter of policy, all horses were now corralled in the centre of the army at nightfall, wherever possible. On this campaign, the cavalry contingent was small, and all horses were safe in the centre; to liberate a horse would mean leading it through the tentlines. 'I can't ride,' said Resbit.
What a pair. A woman who couldn't ride, and a pirate -- Yen Olass could hear him blundering away through the night -- who had no idea at all about how to move quietly in the dark.
'I can't ride either,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'Even if I could, no horse would consent to bear me. Who chooses the river?’
'I can't swim,' said Resbit.
'I wasn't suggesting it,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'Do you choose to come north?' 'We do,' said Yen Olass.
There was a muttered consultation amongst the prisoners. Some of them, natives of Estar, were determined to try and slip away to find refuge in the south of the country, in the Barley Hills. Others thought it best to wait for Draven -- he, after all, was a man, not a woman or a monster. In the end, only Yen Olass and Resbit accompanied Hor-hor-hurulg-murg through the darkness to the bridge, across the bridge to the far bank of the Hollern River, then along that bank, following the curve of the river, which soon saw them heading north toward Lake Armansis.
Yen Olass, in captivity, was very much a creature of daydreams and imaginings. But, following Hor-hor-hurulg-murg through the forest by night -- in the dark, Melski could see better than humans -- Yen Olass felt no need to indulge in dreams. Except that, toward morning, when they were all very tired, she did think just a little bit about how good a cooked breakfast would have been. It was more than a day since she had last eaten, and she was very hungry.
CHAPTER TWENTY
An otter woke in the forest. How had it got there? What was it doing there? Why did everything hurt so much? Why was the cold so vicious? Cold, hurt, and dazed by a mix of fatigue and dreams, the otter rolled onto its hands and knees and lay there, suffering. A piteous mewling sound escaped it.
Bit by bit, it remembered.
'Oh shit,' said Yen Olass, remembering.
She opened her eyes, but shut them again. The light was vicious.
'Caltrops,' muttered Yen Olass.
But here in the forest, the light was not the blinding dazzle that glances off snow and ice. The faul
t was not with the light but with her eyes. They were dry and tired. She wanted to rub them, but saw her hands were filthy.
Yen Olass tried to sit up. On the third try she succeeded. She flexed her hands, trying to get some life into her fingers which, at the moment, were as clumsy as bear paws. Dirt stained the map-lines on the palms of her hands. What had her mother said? 'These are the tracks of the herds which roam the other country. Remember them, in the place beyond darkness.' Now what had she meant by that?
She rubbed her hands together vigorously then stuck them into her armpits. But there was no warmth there, only cold, cold, river-wet fur. Had they been through the river during the night? No. But they had marched endlessly, endlessly.
Yen Olass glanced up at the sky, which had cleared to a taunting virgin blue. It was early morning, and it was positively frosty. She closed her eyes again, then, opening them, looked at the others. Who were both asleep. The Melski was grunting and twitching in his dreams. Resbit was snoring ever so slightly, sleeping so sweetly that Yen Olass had an almost irresistible urge to give her just the tiniest poke in the ribs. Perched on a tree branch overhead, a bird poured out endless streams of exuberant song: joy joy joy!
'Shut up, bird,'said Yen Olass, the tone of her command suggesting that there would be dire consequences for disobedience.
The bird stopped singing, and started improvising a bizarre stream of squeaks, sneezes and staccato clucking. Yen Olass leaned back against a tree and stared upwards, trying to see exactly where the bird was. Could she catch it? It flew away, giving her an easy answer to that. She squinched up her eyes, which were still protesting against the daylight. Was there anything at all to eat up there? Nuts, apples, onions? What time of year did apples get born? And did they get born as little apples, or were they something else first?
Up in the trees, Yen Olass saw a bird's nest. Spring meant eggs and baby birds. And that meant breakfast. She stood up. She was still groggy, either from sleep or the lack of it. She shook her head, which protested. She hobbled over to' the bird nest tree. In spring, when visiting the hunting lodge at Brantzyn, she had sometimes seen children scrambling into the trees to plunder nests for eggs. But she had never climbed a tree herself. Oh well, there's a first time for everything.
* * *
Resbit and Hor-hor-hurulg-murg jerked awake as something crashed into nearby undergrowth. Resbit looked around wildly then screamed:
'Yen Olass! Look out! There's something in the bushes!’
From the bushes came a stream of ferocious language. 199
Resbit did not know what was being said, but she strongly suspected most of the foreign words being used were obscene. Yen Olass came blundering out of the undergrowth. She was scratched and bleeding.
'Don't laugh!' said Yen Olass.
'You're hurt! What happened?’
'Don't laugh,' repeated Yen Olass, as though it was very, very important.
But soon, Resbit was finding it very difficult to keep a straight face.
'Oh, Yen Olass! You thought a little branch like that would hold you? Surely not!’
Yen Olass, supposing that a tree was very much like a horse (if you fall off, you must get back on) was already looking for another nest. She found one, and was soon climbing for it, with both Resbit and Hor-hor-hurulg-murg shouting advice to her. Yen Olass, unable to translate from the Galish and climb at the same time, ignored them.
She was getting up quite high. From here, she could see the river, which was not far away. Clinging to a branch, another branch underfoot, she admired the view. On the far side of the river was a soldier who appeared to be admiring her.
'Yen Olass!’
'Shush!' hissed Yen Olass.
'What?' shouted Resbit. 'What was that?’
'Quiet, quiet!’
'What?' said Resbit. 'In case we scare the eggs away?’
She obviously found that very funny. Yen Olass tore off a small branch and threw it at her. What was Galish for soldiers?
'Enemy!' said Yen Olass. 'Over there!' From the far side of the river, there was a shout. 'Yen Olass!' said Resbit urgently. 'Get down out of there! There's someone across the river!' 'Now you tell me,' muttered Yen Olass. She began to climb down -- slowly -- finding, to her surprise, that it was much harder to climb down than to climb up. Now that was contrary to reason. The tree was the same tree whether she was going up or down. But she was finding it very difficult.
'Yen Olass -- no, no, don't step there!’
Too late. There was a groan of tearing wood, a scream, a crash. And, from across the river, another scream. Harsh commands in Ordhar. The baying of a dog.
'Yen Olass,' said Resbit. 'What are they saying? What are they saying?’
Yen Olass did not translate the soldiers' Ordhar. Indeed, there was no need to. There was more screaming, and Resbit understood, and said, shocked:
'They're killing people over there.’
'Let's go,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'Yen Olass, if you can't walk, I'll carry you.’
'Help me up,' said Yen Olass. 'I'm not a baby.’
And none of her bones was broken. But even so, every step cost her.
Did they see you?' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg.
'I don't know,' said Yen Olass.
The soldier who had looked in her direction might have missed her, as she had been well-hidden in the foliage.
'But they might have heard us,' said Yen Olass. 'Some of us were noisy enough.’
'Yes,' said Resbit, 'especially when we fell out of trees.’
Yen Olass grunted, said nothing.
* * *
The fugitives had no way to know if the soldiers on the far side of the river had been a patrol which had accidentally come upon some refugees, or whether their escape had been discovered during the night, leading to a deliberate manhunt through the forest. But they had to presume that, since there were soldiers on the far bank of the river, there were likely to be soldiers on their own bank of the river.
They pushed north till noon, then halted, because both Yen Olass and Resbit had absolutely had it. Hor-hor-hurulg-murg permitted them a little sleep, then woke them and made them march. They refused, but, when he threatened to go on alone and leave them, they dragged their weary bodies on for a few more leagues.
When evening came, and they halted, Yen Olass felt stuporous. She and Resbit laid themselves down then and there, and collapsed into absolute sleep.
Yen Olass had expected to sleep forever, but she woke in the night. A wind had got up, and the darkness was full of creaks and rustles, of sighs and moans, of little sounds and larger sounds which might have been animals or people or ghouls or ghosts. She felt the forest surrounding her, enclosing her, hemming her in.
'Yen Olass?’
'Yes?’
'Are you awake?’
'No. This is just a dream.’
'That's not kind, Yen Olass,' said Resbit.
'I can be kind,' said Yen Olass, 'if I try.’
'Then do try.’
They held each other close, and were comforted. They began to talk, and Yen Olass told Resbit about her plan to go west, across the mountains from Lake Armansis to Larbster Bay.
'But what will I do?' said Resbit.
'You'll come with me.’
'Oh no.’
'But you must. What would you do otherwise?' 'That's what I was asking.’
'You will come with me,' said Yen Olass firmly. 'No.’
Resbit was not to be persuaded. She made Yen Olass understand that the people at Larbster Bay were a degenerate clan of thieves, drunkards and slavers.
'They rape rats,' said Resbit.
'What?' said Yen Olass, not sure if she had heard right. 202
'Rats. Small. Four legs. Screeee! They rape them. At Larbster Bay.’
'Go to sleep,' said Yen Olass. 'You're dreaming already.’
'And when I wake, it'll be all over. Yes?’
'When you wake,' said Yen Olass, 'we'll hunt some eggs. First thing. Be
fore we go anywhere.’
'You be careful hunting those eggs. Don't let them push you out of the tree again.’
'Let me tell you a little story,' said Yen Olass, 'about a young woman who fell asleep and rolled into a river.’
'Gamos!' said Resbit, giggling.
Yen Olass realized she had once again used the Galish word for a female horse instead of the Galish word for a human female. But she still didn't see why that was funny.