The Well of Darkness (21 page)

He had come so close that I could see the slight rise of the tissue that formed the scars on his face, smell barut on his breath.

“Hold him steady!” he commanded my captors, and lifted Rika over his head.

I was desert-hardened and mad as hell at this little, mangled man who had made so much trouble for us. I was desperate to survive because, without me, I knew Tarani would die. (I didn’t have to fear she’d be hurt in the way Obilin so badly wanted to hurt her—I knew she’d find a way to die.) Rage, a living and separate thing, took over my body and fought for my life.

I made such a show of struggling that both men clutched my arms tightly. Then, as the sword started down, I jumped, folded, and kicked—straight into Obilin’s face. The sword came down through the air in front of me. I had jumped off-center, to throw my weight against one man; the movement pulled the other man around in front of me. Rika sliced through the back of his calf, and he screamed, hanging on to my arm with one hand and clawing at my face with the other.

Obilin had recovered and was shouting at him to move out of the way. I shifted my weight again and shoved the three of us into Obilin. We all went down in a furious tangle. I was closer to the top. I placed some hurtful punches and pulled myself out of it. I grabbed the table—Pornon was watching from halfway up the stairs—and tipped it over on the struggling group.

For a few seconds I debated trying to sort Rika out of the mess, but I couldn’t spare the time. Obilin was driving the other two off of him with fists and sword and curses; he would be free in seconds.

I ran toward the door.

Two of the bar clientele were picking up Tarani, with a studied indifference about where they put their hands.

I stiff-armed into them, knocking them back against the wall. I pulled Tarani away from them and fought the blind rage that was urging me to kill this pair.

The real enemy
‘
s behind you
, I told myself.
These guys
—
it was nothing personal; she
‘
s just a woman to them.

It was a triumph of rationality that I reached for my dagger and cut open Tarani’s money pouch. Coins spilled and scattered on the floor. The men against the wall and in the bar’s doorway leaned forward. It was a considerable sum; Zefra had been generous.

“I just bought five minutes head start,” I said, ducking down to lift Tarani in a poorly balanced fireman’s carry. I backed out the door, holding the dagger awkwardly in front of me.

“You want the little guy killed?” the man nearest the door said.

I looked through the doorway at Obilin, who was standing, holding the steel sword. With that, with his fighting skill, with his fury, he’d have a chance, even against these odds.

“Use your own judgment,” I said, and ran for it.

I ran all night, only pausing to rearrange Tarani’s limp form across my aching shoulders. At dawn I dragged Tarani into a rocky hollow away from the road, and slept fitfully for a couple of hours. I jumped awake, startled from a grim and fading dream. Tarani lay peacefully beside me, her breathing disturbingly sharp and shallow.

She should be awake by now
, I thought.
Obilin must have given her a concussion
—
and that bouncing last night couldn
‘
t have helped her.
Panic took hold as I touched her face.
At least she
‘
s breathing
, I tried to reassure myself.
We must have a sizable lead by now. We
‘
ll stay put; I
‘
ll let her rest; she
‘
ll be all right.

I poured some water on my scarf and bathed her face, then moved my fingers gently over her skull. The size of the knot at the base of her skull frightened me, and I wished for Tarani’s healing skill.

We stayed there most of the day, except for graduated movement as the shade pattern around the tallest rocks changed. I dozed fitfully, but even asleep, I was waiting for the sound of a group of men coming up the trail. Never had I felt such appreciation for Tarani’s link with Lonna. The bird appeared now and then to hoot mournfully near her mistress, but she left without giving me any information. She could speak only to Tarani.

It was nearly dusk when Tarani made a sound. I scrabbled over the dusty rocks to crouch beside her, resisting the urge to pull her up into my arms. Her eyes opened. “What happened?” she whispered. She pulled one of her hands away from mine and touched the back of her head. “Ouch.” Then she looked me straight in the eyes and said: “Obilin.”

I nodded.

“Is he dead this time?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, and told her what had happened. “It’s money well spent,” she said, when she’d heard it all. “I hope they tore the fleason to pieces.”

Tarani must have seen how her savagery shocked me. “I think of Vasklar,” she explained more gently. “How he will feel when he knows where his good efforts have led.”

“I know,” I said, sharing her bitterness.

She looked around at the rocks. “Where are we?”

“Just east of the Zantril,” I said. “I was afraid to take you into the pass unconscious.”

“How long?”

“We’ve been here for most of a day,” I said.

“Oh, Rikardon—I’m sorry I have held you back. If Obilin is not dead—if Worfit knows you were in Chizan—”

“Lonna’s not too far away,” I said. “Can you find out if somebody’s following us?”

She closed her eyes. The bird swooped down and settled on a boulder near her, took off, returned. Tarani opened her eyes, and the pain in them shocked me.

“It must be the blow,” she said in explanation. “It hurts to speak to Lonna. But it hurts more to hear what she has to tell. A party of twenty men, wearing backpacks, is coming from Chizan, no more than an hour away. There are two men in the lead. One is Obilin, I’m sure, from your description. The other is not much taller, but wide and muscular …”

“That’s Worfit,” I confirmed, and thought furiously. “Can we sit tight and let them pass us?”

“I do not think so,” she said. “Lonna’s picture shows the main group moving at a steady pace, with others off on either side, searching.” She gripped my upper arms. “Help me up; we must get moving,” she said.

I pulled her, slowly, into a sitting position. She no more than got up there than she was pushing me away. She turned her body full against the shade rock and lay there retching for what seemed an endless time.

“You can’t travel, Tarani—that blow
hurt
you.”

“I
must
travel,” she gasped. “Help me.”

I did, hating the grayness in her face, hurting for her. I pulled her to her feet and held her around her waist. I dragged her the first few steps, but then she was walking on her own, leaning on me for support. We paused twice for retching spasms; then they went away. At the entrance to the Zantril, Tarani sent Lonna out again. The troop was still on our trail, gaining but not quickly. They had decided, apparently, that endurance was more important than speed.

They may be right
, I thought, as we clambered down the steep slope into the dust-blown chasm that was the Zantril crossing. In spite of the scarf covering Tarani’s face, the dust made her cough, and that made her head hurt more. Lonna had to fend for herself this trip; I saw her once, through the stinging dust, struggling in the wind.

It had taken three healthy people twenty hours to walk through this pass on my last trip. This time, I thought the Zantril was endless. I wasn’t sure what day or hour it was when I topped the high point that marked the other end of the pass. I was staggering under Tarani’s weight—she had passed out again, several hours ago, and she had never looked really well.

I staggered down the outer slope, relieved beyond words to see the scrubby bushes clinging stubbornly to the hillside. I found a fairly shady spot sheltered from sight of the road, lowered Tarani to the ground, and stretched out beside her. Obilin and Molik notwithstanding, we needed some rest. I drew in deep lungfuls of air, grateful that it didn’t taste of dust. After a while, I slept.

Tarani shook me awake. I resisted, clinging to the dream.

I had four legs, very satisfying claws, and tawny fur. The female was a musky presence, a pleasant nuisance with her fussy searching for the right lair. Any defensible place would do for me
—
a cave, a hollowed-out thicket. But she sniffed and pawed and dug. A nuisance.

I reached far forward with my front legs, dug my claws into the leaf-covered ground, slowly pulled my back out straight, and stretched my back legs one at a time. The sweet smell of the disturbed leaves drifted up to me. The female was off to my left. Water lay before me. I could hear it rushing over the rocks, smell its coolness …

“Keeshah!” I said, sitting bolt upright. I turned to Tarani, who was looking better, and grabbed her arms. “It wasn’t a dream,” I said. “It was Keeshah. We’re still linked, somehow.”

“Rikardon,” Tarani said, breaking gently from my hold, “I have an idea.”

I stood up and looked northward. “That’s the Valley of the Sha’um,” I said, pointing to the northwest, to the left of the dark blotch on the landscape that was called—for reasons of appearance, I supposed—the Well of Darkness.

“We’re closer here, Tarani. That must make a difference.” I turned to her, excited. I grabbed her, hugged her. “Keeshah’s still with me!” I shouted.

“And Obilin and Worfit are getting closer!” she yelled against my shoulder. She pushed me away, closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her temples. “Listen to me, Rikardon,” she said, after she had taken a few deep breaths. “Lonna woke me with her screeching. Obilin and Worfit are barely an hour short of this end of the pass. Let us send Lonna to Thagorn. We may be able to make it to Relenor safely, and wait there for Thymas.”

I forced my mind away from my welcome “dream” to consider Tarani’s plan. There was no doubt Thymas would come. If it weren’t enough that Tarani asked Thymas, through Lonna, for help, he would be bound through his oath to his father to obey the Captain’s orders. But there were bigger questions.

Did we have time to wait for their help, even considering the speed of a hundred men riding a hundred sha’um?

When I’d been named Captain, I had told the Sharith that it wasn’t time, yet, for them to go into action. Was it time now, only because the danger was personal to me?

Lastly, Obilin knew we had connections in Thagorn, and might suspect we were doing exactly what Tarani planned. He would hardly be inclined to wait around for a fang-and-claw army to descend on Relenor.

“Do you really think the ‘sanctuary’ of a Refreshment House will stop Obilin or Worfit?” I asked.

“Perhaps not them,” Tarani said. “Obilin, I know, is too determined to reach us. But the other men—the tradition will mean something to them. Obilin and Worfit will have to come in alone, or force or convince the others to violate the tradition of the Fa’aldu. It will buy us time.”

“At what cost to the Fa’aldu?” I demanded, and looked northward again.

“If not the Refreshment House,” she pleaded, “let us at least start for Thagorn, and send Lonna ahead. We can stay out of Obilin’s reach long enough for Thymas to bring the Sharith.”

I pulled Tarani down into a sitting position and faced her. I gathered my thoughts and tried to calm the growing excitement. I knew what I had to do, and I wanted her with me, not out of loyalty, but with full understanding.

“It’s no use to send Lonna to Thagron,” I said. “It’s too far; she’s too tired. We’ll go north, into the Valley.”

She started to protest, but I hurried on. “It’s not as impractical as it seems,” I said. “There’s a passage through the west wall of the Valley. It’s a hard crossing, but we can make it—it leads to Alkhum, a little town not far from Raithskar.”

She studied my face.

“Do you forget that I know something of sha’um?” she asked quietly. “They will kill us if we invade their Valley.”

“Keeshah is there!” I said fiercely. “He’ll let us through.”

“But no one else will be able to enter,” she mused. “And the Fa’aldu will not be endangered by those who follow us.”

She put her hand on my cheek.

“It is logical, my love—a measured chance. But I see the truth in your face. You wish to do this only to be with Keeshah again.”

I nodded, knowing that the decision was now hers, terrified that she would refuse me.

“It is reason enough,” she said.

She didn’t say what we both know
, I thought gratefully as we pulled out the last of our food and munched while we ran down the slope, aiming northwest.
She didn’t mention that Obilin and Worfit are too close. The odds for survival in any direction are rotten.

I hurt all over, and I knew she was even worse off. Her face was set in a steady grimace—easier than flinching with every step. We heard, faintly, the shouting behind us as the troop topped the rise and saw us moving across the scantily covered bottom of the slope. We didn’t even look back.

This could be the end of the quest
, I thought.
She knows it, too. That
‘
s why she accepted my need for Keeshah so readily.

Thoughts of the big cat called back the “dream”.
It was so real, so true
, I told myself.
It had to be coming through our link. But why haven
‘
t I felt it before this? Distance can
‘
t have that much to do with it
—
we left Keeshah two days out of Eddarta, and I could speak to him as easily as if I were riding him.

There was one aspect of the “dream” that I hadn’t mentioned to Tarani, and I didn’t want to remember now, but it seemed important.
Keeshah didn’t remember me
, I admitted.
And he didn’t know I was there.

He must have been with me all the time
, I thought,
but I
‘
ve only now realized he
‘
s there. It can
‘
t be that the link suddenly came back
—
I would have felt it, the way I felt it when I thought it left. He just … shut down this part of his life for a while.