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of the fire on her face. As she sagged and swayed Khateyat jumped up and
caught her. Holding her steady, the Shemqya said softly,  Do you know what
you ve said, hes Aleytys?
Aleytys nodded wearily.  I heard the words, though I didn t say them. I have
to talk to you. Please? Later?
 Yes, of course, but answer the haryo-tep, child.
She leaned back against the Shemqya, legs feeling like wet string.  Yes, she
said tiredly.  Give me a mount and I ll take you to them.
Head spinning, Aleytys felt herself hoisted on the back of a sesmat. Myawo
rode up beside her, his aura glittering so that she saw him less as a man than
a great reptilian jewel.  Go, he hissed.
She closed her eyes. Surrounded by that odd amber glow, a pull like a string
tied to her mind lined away to the west. Without hesitation, she led the
attack party toward the dry camp where the tanchar dozed unaware of the
approaching danger. After about a half hour s steady plodding, she pulled up
and pointed.  There, she mumbled.  Just over that rise.
Thasmyo shoved past her and slid off his mount. He brought his hand down in a
taut, angry gesture and the men dismounted, gathering in steaming silence
around him. Myawo sniffed at the air.  No wards, he grunted.  Stupid. He
dismounted also and jerked his head at Aleytys.
Reluctantly she slid off the sesmat and joined the group. The men opened
their ranks and let her through them until she stood in front of Thasmyo.
 What more do you know? he asked quietly.
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 Nothing. She flicked an uneasy glance at the scowling, angry faces ringing
her.  Only that the ones you want are there. She nodded at the top of the low
knoll.
 Come. Thasmyo swung his arm at the top of the rise. They crept up the back
of the knoll until they could peer over the top, partially screened by knots
of long grass. Below, sleeping in pools of moonlight, huddled forms of about
twenty men lay stretched out with their heads toward the tethered sesmatwe.
Thasmyo squatted beside Aleytys and peered intently at the standard fluttering
from a pole stuck in the ground.  Tanchar, he grunted.
Aleytys swallowed.  You have them, she whispered.  Let me go back to camp.
 No, Myawo hissed.
Thasmyo nodded.  Healer, he said softly.  We need you if some are injured.
You will?
Reluctantly Aleytys nodded.
 Good. He looked grimly around at the men.  Go, he whispered.
The zabyn around him nodded silently and began creeping down the hill.
Aleytys knelt and wrapped her arms over her breasts, her hands cupped over her
shoulders, shuddering at the violence in the air.
When the ragged line of men reached the bottom, she saw sabers glinting
silver in the moonlight, then red as they hacked at the sleeping figures. The
tanchar scrambled blearily out of then blankets but the surprise was too
complete. Before they managed to get on their feet, the shimmering lunar
curves of the sabers slashed across their throats. Howling mad in fighting
blood fury, the zabyn cut the surprised men into bloody fragments.
Forgotten on the crown of the little hill, Aleytys crouched on hands and
knees, vomiting until her body was one great ache.
7
Raqat pulled the leather doorflap back and looked down. In the darkness of
the chon Stavver was a pale blur against the dark leather. She tied the flap
open and moved on her knees back to the sleeping man, bending over him to
stare into his night-veiled features.A secret face , she thought.I was sure I
knew him once. Before that woman came . She touched his cheek.Now, maro, you
look at her& You don t look at me like that& . She s carrying another man s
child and you can t keep your eyes off her .
Abruptly the chon seemed to be closing in on her. She pulled on a sleeveless
tunic and crawled outside.
The night was still warm. Aab had already set and Zeb was just a silver bead
resting on the dark line of the horizon. The stars hung low enough to pluck
like flowers. Raqat took a deep breath. Moonset meant that dawn was close. She
looked around. The yd rwe were a vast cloud spreading like an inkstain across
the gently rolling plain. The Shemqyaten herret loomed just to her left with
Aleytys s chon huddled close beside it. Since the raid on the tanchar, the
redheaded witch held a peculiar position in the clan, not one with the zabyn
but not counted as a stranger either. Raqat snorted with sudden rage and ran
out from between the circle of tents.
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She ached to be alone, to have no one smothering her with the effluvia from
their night thoughts, to have no snoring in her ears, no paining-pleasing
presence beside her. She snatched up a heavy stick and ran up the shallow
slope of a small elevation, not a hill scarcely more than a mosquito bite in
the earth, just a gentle rise up a long slope breaking off like a wave to drop
straight down two meters at the crest.
At the top of the rise she tramped the grass down, beating around with the
stick to drive away snakes and stinging bugs. Then she slumped down into the
grass, dropped her head on her knees, and began crying& huge soft,
half-stifled sobs that shook her whole body. As Zeb slipped down behind the
western edge of the world, she pulled in a deep unsteady breath and wiped her
eyes.  Khas, she muttered. Feeling a presence, she looked up. Myawo stood a
few feet away, hands on hips, watching her.
She glared defiantly at him.  You come to mock at me too, Khem-sko? To her
disgust her voice broke on the last word. She cleared her throat and spit at
his feet  No, R eRaqat.
She stiffened with surprise and suspicion. His voice was gentle and he even
gave her the respect title. Peering through the heavy darkness, she tried to
read his expression.
 After all, he murmured,  you re zabya. He moved closer and dropped beside
her.  I m a cross-grained man with little to recommend him to a woman. His [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]