Rebel Ice (17 page)

The center cave had been built around the opening of a vent shaft, which provided some warmth for the beasts and their handler. Someone had fashioned a crude heatarc over the opening, and on it sat a salvaged pot and several other odd items, including some chunks of stone.

Resa first picked up a scrap of cloth and removed one of the stones, wrapping the cloth around it before offering it to Hurgot.

"Hold," she said when he frowned at the bundle. "Make hands warm."

Hurgot felt foolish—men did not feel the cold as women did—but he could indulge her this much. As soon as he clasped the cloth-wrapped stone between his mitts, the heat radiated into his palms and fingers. The mild ache he usually felt when on the ice vanished.

Resa was busy with filling the makeshift cook pot with meltwater and adding clumps of damp tea plant. "Make hot tea," she said, glancing over at him. "Soup, yes?"

Hurgot frowned. "Someone brought you food?" He would have expected Sogayi to give orders to starve the girl. Surely Egil could not have brought down any game, and if he had, it would have been taken to the skela and made fit
for
the camp's use.

"Cats bring." Resa reached over to run her fingertips around the ears of one jlorra's massive head. "I cook. You sit here, please?" She indicated a pile of furs to one side of the heatarc.

Hurgot sat. The furs were warm from being in close proximity to the shaft opening, and although they "Make fur," Resa said, following his gaze. "Keep me warm in night."

"You are learning to speak Iisleg," he said, just now realizing how well she was able to communicate.

"I speak some, not good," Resa told him as she brought over a cup of tea and presented it. "We talk, yes?"

"Yes." Hurgot sampled the tea, which was weaker than he liked, and had obviously been brewed several times before. "Resa, who brought these things here for you?"

She looked around. "Fur here. Cats bring food. I find things."

He did not want to think about the food aspect, so he asked, "Where do you find things?"

"Pile things." She gestured toward the south side of camp, where, Hurgot recalled, the gjenvin dumped whatever material could not be salvaged. She went back to the heatarc and poured some of the contents of another, odd-looking vessel into a smaller, bent piece of alloy with a shallow indentation like a bowl. She then brought the bowl to him. "Meat only," she said, rather apologetically. "Not know good plants here."

The bowl held a strong-flavored broth with small chunks of meat in it. Because it had no vegetables or spices it was bland by Iisleg standards, but otherwise hot and filling.

To give himself time to think rather than dwell on the origins of what was in the bowl, Hurgot ate slowly. Resa went back to her place by the heatarc and crouched there, warming her hands and sometimes petting one of the cats, who had piled all around her like sleepy, contented children.

"I brought you something," he said finally, when she took the empty bowl and cup from him. "Here." Feeling embarrassed, he took the food and tea from his pack.

"I thank you," Resa said, clearly delighted. She went to the bundle of patchwork furs, pulled one side up, and hid the food beneath it. When she saw Hurgot's expression, she made a face. "I put here or Egil eat all."

Refusing to give food to a man was a serious offense, one for which she could be beaten severely. Yet Hurgot found himself only admiring her ingenuity. Also, like every other man, Egil was well fed every night in camp. It appeared that Resa had been left to fend for herself.

He had to be sure, however. No need to jump to conclusions when someone else might be supplying Resa's needs. "Did anyone bring you food and furs from the camp?"

She shook her head. "Cats, I find, I make. That all." She looked directly into his eyes. "I not die, Hurgot."

Was she reassuring him, or was she telling him that Sogayi's plan had failed?
She could not know
. "I will see to it that food is brought to you. It will not be much, but you will not starve." He was beginning to wonder if anything could kill her.

"That kind." Resa refilled his cup. "I thank you."

"Aren't you afraid of the jlorra?" Hurgot asked her as he watched her sit down and idly stroke the

blue-white fur of the largest male's ridged back. "Cats? No hurt me." Resa surveyed the animals around her as if they were nothing more than small children. "Cats like me." She began to say something else, and then frowned.

"What is it?" "Egil beat them." Her dark brows drew together in the center. "I no like that." "Egil beats the jlorra?" A wave of nausea swept over Hurgot at the thought of the beast master being so

foolhardy.

"Sometime," Resa said. "Cats no like. I try, tell Egil no? Hit me." She rubbed the side of her head, ruffling her short, sheared hair. "Cats no like when Egil hit me." "Hurgot?" A young man in heavy, unkempt furs entered the cave. "I thought I heard your voice, old man.

What are you doing here?"

The change in Resa was instantaneous. She immediately put aside the implement in her hand and bent over until her nose touched the shabby boots on her feet, and stayed in that position, unmoving. "Egil." "You should have told me you were going to visit; I'd have brought something out with me." Egil's eyes

darted from Hurgot to the empty dish and cup Resa had given him. "She didn't make you eat this swill she cooks, did she?"

"It was acceptable." Egil went around the heatarc, kicking Resa out of his way with no more thought than if she were a bundle of furs. "I can hardly stomach the stuff." Giving lie to his statement, he hunched down and helped himself to the contents of the cook pot. Resa remained curled up to one side, in the position she had landed, still unmoving. The cats, however, shifted their positions, silently moving until they formed a living wall on three sides of her. They also watched Egil with menacing intensity.

"Why come all the way out here, old man?" Egil asked between mouthfuls.

Many of the young men of the camp referred to Hurgot as an "old man," but rarely to his face. "I came to gather some ice plants," he lied. "I stopped in here to warm myself at the vent shaft." "Ah." Egil nodded, drank the last of the broth from the pot, and produced a loud belch. Hurgot nodded toward Resa. "What is the ensleg doing here?" "Nothing of use to me," Egil said. He used the rest of Resa's meltwater to wash his face and hands. "I

keep the caves clean, and the beasts hunt for themselves. She does nothing but eat and sleep."

Resa lifted her head and glared at the back of Egil's before noticing Hurgot watching her. She returned to her curled-up position, but her expression was one of anger. Hurgot had been to the jlorra caves before this day. In the recent past, he had noticed considerable piles

of gnawed bones and other remnants of the beasts' kills. They were gone now, and he felt certain that Resa had been the one to clear them out when she had gathered the fur scraps to make her bed.

"The rasakt's—the rasakt does not want her polluting the other women with her ensleg ways," Egil said. "I was told that she is to remain here."

By Sogayi, no doubt. The rest of this conversation could not take place in front of a woman. "Walk outside with me," he said to Egil. "We must talk."

Egil went with him reluctantly. "I do not know why you bother with her. She is useless."

"Navn does not know about this, does he?" Hurgot gestured toward the cave. "About her being brought here."

The younger man gave him a stricken look. "Yes. Yes, he does."

"Then I will speak to Navn when I return to camp," Hurgot decided, "and ask him to bring her back to work in the sheds."

Egil pasted a false jovial smile on his face. "Healer, is that entirely wise? With the burdens the rasakt bears for us, he may have forgotten this trivial matter. It is best not to remind him and irritate him."

"He does not know she is here at all, does he?" Hurgot watched the young man's mouth open and close a few times. "A man who takes orders from a woman may as well be a woman himself," he suggested. "If this is made known, you will never hold a bow again."

Egil flushed. "You don't know what it is like. What can be done to one who goes against what is asked of him. Being beast master is not the worst work a man can do."

Hurgot thought for a moment. He had no great affection for Egil, but the younger man was simply trying to preserve his hide. "Navn must be informed of this. I think he has plans for this ensleg."

"I will not tell him," Egil said adamantly. "Unless you wish to spend the rest of the few years left to you curing hides or digging out privy holes, you should not, either."

The image of Ygrelda's pleading face came into Hurgot's mind. "Perhaps we will not have to." He glanced over Egil's shoulder, and saw Resa standing at the entrance to the cave. She had been listening to them talk for some time, he suspected, and if the younger man turned around, he would grab the ensleg and beat her within an inch of her life.

Resa knew this. Hurgot could see it in her eyes. Yet she stood, and she listened to them. She possessed the kind of courage that neither he nor Egil had, and it shamed him so much that he almost went around Egil to beat her himself.

"What are you going to do?" Egil demanded.

"Something," the shame made Hurgot say. "Soon."

Resa turned and walked back into the cave.

"What do you mean, Stuart's launch
crashed
?" Orjakis rose abruptly, spilling warm, perfumed water over the sides of the carved crystal tub. He thrust the attending drone aside and strode naked across the inlaid tile floor until he stood before his cowering notch.

"I see Janzil Ches—" "Defense reported that the launch lost control in midflight." The notch fixed his desperate eyes on Orjakis's chin. "It apparently experienced engine failure. A partial distress signal was transmitted by Trader Aledver before the ship crashed. The transmission is unintelligible."

Aledver, one of his most trusted internals. Orjakis felt his rage sink deeper. "Where is it now?"

The notch had to consult his pad. "In the disputed area, Kangal. Defense has sent patrols to search for it, but there has been no success as of yet."

"It has been days since Stuart left Skjonn," Orjakis said through clenched teeth. "And they cannot locate it?" He didn't wait for an answer, but brushed the notch aside and strode into his dressing room. More attendants rushed at him, eager to array him in sky white silken trousers and a matching tunic heavily encrusted with tiny emitters. The emitters, programmed to flash sequenced patterns, were already activated and projecting images of wings, jewels, and other finery.

He ripped the tunic from the attendant's hands and tore it in half. The drone turned and went back to the garment room to select another ensemble.

Orjakis went to stand before the large window overlooking the city. Beneath him, several citizens walking outside the palace stopped at the sight of him. Two women and a man crumpled to the ground, overcome.

I should send for them
, he thought.
Make them my ministers. They would kill themselves to please me
.

"We will see Defense in our receiving room," Orjakis told the notch, who had crept in after him. "In two minutes. With answers."

It took longer than two minutes for Orjakis to calm himself, and to select his colors and scents for the day. On his way from the chamber, he said to the Provisions drone, "Have a surface woman here awaiting our pleasure when we return."

Gohliya was waiting on his knees in the receiving room. Orjakis noted the old man's fixed stare and wondered if the notch was becoming more efficient than was entirely necessary. A general warned of the Kangal's ire was a general prepared to make excuses.

"The launch," Orjakis said, too agitated to take his customary seat. "Where is it?"

"I see Janzil Ches Orjakis, Kangal of Skjonn," Gohliya said. "The launch has crashed on the surface, somewhere within rebel-controlled territory."

The Kangal strode up to the general and grabbed him by the front of the tunic. "That is not the answer we wish, Defense. Where are they?"

"They are dead, Kangal."

Orjakis struck the older man in the face and turned his back on him. Denying Gohliya the sight of his beauty was only a minor punishment, and not a very satisfying one. He would have the decrepit fool strung up in the courtyard and whipped. He would have him made into a bath slave. A toilet slave. A bed warmer for the garrison—
wouldn't the soldiers love that
? The possibilities were endless. He summoned a drone to clean off the hand that had struck Gohliya.

"We should have cut out your tongue when our father died." Orjakis walked to the throne and sat down. He made a regal gesture. "Speak, then."

"The League will not hear the news of Colonel Stuart's loss with happiness," Gohliya said. "If such tidings are delivered correctly, they will come here. They will look for him. They will see the rebels and how they have made the innocent below suffer. They will act as our allies."

"If Stuart was League, which we find very hard to believe, we do not need his superiors to control our planet," Orjakis reminded the general. "That is your job, and you have failed miserably at it."

"I was not permitted to send an escort with Stuart," Gohliya said. "By your orders, he and Aledver went alone."

"Aledver was going to ferret out his true reason for coming to Akkabarr, and then slit his throat and leave him as a feast for the carrion eaters." Orjakis had never bedded Aledver, either. He had died, ignorant of the ultimate of all pleasures.

The ache in Orjakis's head made him gesture blindly for an attendant, who approached the throne and knelt before him. He pointed to his temples, and the female went around the throne to stand behind it and begin a gentle massage of his scalp and neck.

"The Kangal has long desired to strengthen ties with the League," Gohliya said, his tone more considerate now. "This provides the opportunity for the Kangal to do so, if the Kangal is willing to invite League troops to Akkabarr."