If anyone noticed me cross the square, which I doubted, they took me for just another Dry-town vagabond, curious about the world of the strangers from beyond the stars, and who, curiosity satisfied, was drifting back where he belonged. I turned down one of the dark alleys2 that led away, and soon was walking in the dark.
The Kharsa was not unfamiliar3 to me as a Terran, but for the last six years I had seen only its daytime face. I doubted if there were a dozen Earthmen in the Old Town tonight, though I saw one in the bazaar5, dirty and lurching drunk; one of those who run renegade and homeless between worlds, belonging to neither. This was what I had nearly become.
I went further up the hill with the rising streets. Once I turned, and saw below me the bright-lighted spaceport, the black many-windowed loom6 of the skyscraper7 like a patch of alien shadow in the red-violet moonlight. I turned my back on them and walked on.
At the fringe of the thieves market I paused outside a wineshop where Dry-towners were made welcome. A golden[34] nonhuman child murmured something as she pattered by me in the street, and I stopped, gripped by a spasm8 of stagefright. Had the dialect of Shainsa grown rusty9 on my tongue? Spies were given short shrift on Wolf, and a mile from the spaceport, I might as well have been on one of those moons. There were no spaceport shockers at my back now. And someone might remember the tale of an Earthman with a scarred face who had gone to Shainsa in disguise....
I shrugged10 the shirtcloak around my shoulders, pushed the door and went in. I had remembered that Rakhal was waiting for me. Not beyond this door, but at the end of the trail, behind some other door, somewhere. And we have a byword in Shainsa: A trail without beginning has no end.
Right there I stopped thinking about Juli, Rindy, the Terran Empire, or what Rakhal, who knew too many of Terra's secrets, might do if he had turned renegade. My fingers went up and stroked, musingly12, the ridge13 of scar tissue along my mouth. At that moment I was thinking only of Rakhal, of an unsettled blood-feud, and of my revenge.
Red lamps were burning inside the wineshop, where men reclined on frowsy couches. I stumbled over one of them, found an empty place and let myself sink down on it, arranging myself automatically in the sprawl14 of Dry-towners indoors. In public they stood, rigid15 and formal, even to eat and drink. Among themselves, anything less than a loose-limbed sprawl betrayed insulting watchfulness16; only a man who fears secret murder keeps himself on guard.
A girl with a tangled18 rope of hair down her back came toward me. Her hands were unchained, meaning she was a woman of the lowest class, not worth safeguarding. Her fur smock was shabby and matted with filth19. I sent her for wine. When it came it was surprisingly good, the sweet and treacherous20 wine of Ardcarran. I sipped21 it slowly, looking round.
If a caravan22 for Shainsa were leaving tomorrow, it would be known here. A word dropped that I was returning there would bring me, by ironbound custom, an invitation to travel in their company.
When I sent the woman for wine a second time, a man on a nearby couch got up, and walked over to me.
He was tall even for a Dry-towner, and there was some[35]thing vaguely23 familiar about him. He was no riffraff of the Kharsa, either, for his shirtcloak was of rich silk interwoven with metallic24 threads, and crusted with heavy embroideries25. The hilt of his skean was carved from a single green gem26. He stood looking down at me for some time before he spoke27.
"I never forget a voice, although I cannot bring your face to mind. Have I a duty toward you?"
I had spoken a jargon28 to the girl, but he addressed me in the lilting, sing-song speech of Shainsa. I made no answer, gesturing him to be seated. On Wolf, formal courtesy requires a series of polite non sequiturs, and while a direct question merely borders on rudeness, a direct answer is the mark of a simpleton.
"A drink?"
"I joined you unasked," he retorted, and summoned the tangle17-headed girl. "Bring us better wine than this swill29!"
With that word and gesture I recognized him and my teeth clamped hard on my lip. This was the loudmouth who had shown fight in the spaceport cafe, and run away before the dark girl with the sign of Nebran sprawled30 on her breast.
But in this poor light he had not recognized me. I moved deliberately31 into the full red glow. If he did not know me for the Terran he had challenged last night in the spaceport cafe, it was unlikely that anyone else would. He stared at me for some minutes, but in the end he only shrugged and poured wine from the bottle he had ordered.
Three drinks later I knew that his name was Kyral and that he was a trader in wire and fine steel tools through the nonhuman towns. And I had given him the name I had chosen, Rascar.
He asked, "Are you thinking of returning to Shainsa?"
Wary32 of a trap, I hesitated, but the question seemed harmless, so I only countered, "Have you been long in the Kharsa?"
"Several weeks."
"Trading?"
"Did you find him?"
"Her," said Kyral, and ceremoniously spat34. "No, I didn't find her. What is your business in Shainsa?"[36]
He narrowed his eyelids37 as if he suspected me of mocking him, but personal privacy is the most rigid convention of the Dry-towns and such mockery showed a sensible disregard for prying38 questions if I did not choose to answer them. He questioned no further.
"I can use an extra man to handle the loads. Are you good with pack animals? If so, you are welcome to travel under the protection of my caravan."
I agreed. Then, reflecting that Juli and Rakhal must, after all, be known in Shainsa, I asked, "Do you know a trader who calls himself Sensar?"
He started slightly; I saw his eyes move along my scars. Then reserve, like a lowered curtain, shut itself over his face, concealing40 a brief satisfied glimmer41. "No," he lied, and stood up.
"We leave at first daylight. Have your gear ready." He flipped42 something at me, and I caught it in midair. It was a stone incised with Kyral's name in the ideographs of Shainsa. "You can sleep with the caravan if you care to. Show that token to Cuinn."
Kyral's caravan was encamped in a barred field past the furthest gates of the Kharsa. About a dozen men were busy loading the pack animals—horses shipped in from Darkover, mostly. I asked the first man I met for Cuinn. He pointed43 out a burly fellow in a shiny red shirtcloak, who was busy at chewing out one of the young men for the way he'd put a packsaddle on his beast.
Shainsa is a good language for cursing, but Cuinn had a special talent at it. I blinked in admiration44 while I waited for him to get his breath so I could hand him Kyral's token.
In the light of the fire I saw what I'd half expected: he was the second of the Dry-towners who'd tried to rough me up in the spaceport cafe. Cuinn barely glanced at the cut stone and tossed it back, pointing out one of the packhorses. "Load your personal gear on that one, then get busy and show this mush-headed wearer of sandals"—an insult carrying particularly filthy45 implications in Shainsa—"how to fasten a packstrap."[37]
He drew breath and began to swear at the luckless youngster again, and I relaxed. He evidently hadn't recognized me, either. I took the strap46 in my hand, guiding it through the saddle loop. "Like that," I told the kid, and Cuinn stopped swearing long enough to give me a curt39 nod of acknowledgment and point out a heap of boxed and crated47 objects.
"Help him load up. We want to get clear of the city by daybreak," he ordered, and went off to swear at someone else.
Kyral turned up at dawn, and a few minutes later the camp had vanished into a small scattering48 of litter and we were on our way.
Kyral's caravan, in spite of Cuinn's cursing, was well-managed and well-handled. The men were Dry-towners, eleven of them, silent and capable and most of them very young. They were cheerful on the trail, handled the pack animals competently, during the day, and spent most of the nights grouped around the fire, gambling49 silently on the fall of the cut-crystal prisms they used for dice50.
Three days out of the Kharsa I began to worry about Cuinn.
It was of course a spectacular piece of bad luck to find all three of the men from the spaceport cafe in Kyral's caravan. Kyral had obviously not known me, and even by daylight he paid no attention to me except to give an occasional order. The second of the three was a gangling51 kid who probably never gave me a second look, let alone a third.
But Cuinn was another matter. He was a man my own age, and his fierce eyes had a shrewdness in them that I did not trust. More than once I caught him watching me, and on the two or three occasions when he drew me into conversation, I found his questions more direct than Dry-town good manners allowed. I weighed the possibility that I might have to kill him before we reached Shainsa.
We crossed the foothills and began to climb upward toward the mountains. The first few days I found myself short of breath as we worked upward into thinner air, then my acclimatization returned and I began to fall into the pattern of the days and nights on the trail. The Trade City[38] was still a beacon52 in the night, but its glow on the horizon grew dimmer with each day's march.
Higher we climbed, along dangerous trails where men had to dismount and let the pack animals pick their way, foot by foot. Here in these altitudes the sun at noonday blazed redder and brighter, and the Dry-towners, who come from the parched53 lands in the sea-bottoms, were burned and blistered54 by the fierce light. I had grown up under the blazing sun of Terra, and a red sun like Wolf, even at its hottest, caused me no discomfort55. This alone would have made me suspect. Once again I found Cuinn's fierce eyes watching me.
As we crossed the passes and began to descend56 the long trail through the thick forests, we got into nonhuman country. Racing57 against the Ghost Wind, we skirted the country around Charin, and the woods inhabited by the terrible Ya-men, birdlike creatures who turn cannibal when the Ghost Wind blows.
Later the trail wound through thicker forests of indigo58 trees and grayish-purple brushwood, and at night we heard the howls of the catmen of these latitudes59. At night we set guards about the caravan, and the dark spaces and shadows were filled with noises and queer smells and rustlings.
Nevertheless, the day's marches and the night watches passed without event until the night I shared guard with Cuinn. I had posted myself at the edge of the camp, the fire behind me. The men were sleeping rolls of snores, huddled61 close around the fire. The animals, hobbled with double ropes, front feet to hind11 feet, shifted uneasily and let out long uncanny whines62.
I heard Cuinn pacing behind me. I heard a rustle63 at the edge of the forest, a stir and whisper beyond the trees, and turned to speak to him, then saw him slipping away toward the outskirts64 of the clearing.
For a moment I thought nothing of it, thinking that he was taking a few steps toward the gap in the trees where he had disappeared. I suppose I had the idea that he had slipped away to investigate some noise or shadow, and that I should be at hand.
Then I saw the flicker65 of lights beyond the trees—light from the lantern Cuinn had been carrying in his hand! He was signaling![39]
I slipped the safety clasp from the hilt of my skean and went after him. In the dimming glow of the fire I fancied I saw luminous66 eyes watching me, and the skin on my back crawled. I crept up behind him and leaped. We went down in a tangle of flailing67 legs and arms, and in less than a second he had his skean out and I was gripping his wrist, trying desperately68 to force the blade away from my throat.
In the light of the fallen lantern, lips drawn71 back in a snarl72, he looked almost inhuman73. He strained at the knife for a moment, then dropped it. "Let me up," he said.
I got up and kicked the fallen skean toward him. "Put that away. What in hell were you doing, trying to bring the catmen down on us?"
For a moment he looked taken aback, then his fierce face closed down again and he said wrathfully, "Can't a man walk away from the camp without being half strangled?"
I glared at him, but realized I really had nothing to go by. He might have been answering a call of nature, and the movement of the lantern accidental. And if someone had jumped me from behind, I might have pulled a knife on him myself. So I only said, "Don't do it again. We're all too jumpy."
There were no other incidents that night, or the next. The night after, while I lay huddled in my shirtcloak and blanket by the fire, I saw Cuinn slip out of his bedroll and steal away. A moment later there was a gleam in the darkness, but before I could summon the resolve to get up and face it out with him, he returned, looked cautiously at the snoring men, and crawled back into his blankets.
While we were unpacking74 at the next camp, Kyral halted beside me. "Heard anything queer lately? I've got the notion we're being trailed. We'll be out of these forests tomorrow, and after that it's clear road all the way to Shainsa. If anything's going to happen, it will happen tonight."
I debated speaking to him about Cuinn's signals. No, I had my own business waiting for me in Shainsa. Why mix myself up in some other, private intrigue75?
He said, "I'm putting you and Cuinn on watch again. The old men doze4 off, and the young fellows get to daydreaming[40] or fooling around. That's all right most of the time, but I want someone who'll keep his eyes open tonight. Did you ever know Cuinn before this?"
"Never set eyes on him."
"Funny, I had the notion—" He shrugged, turned away, then stopped.
"Don't think twice about rousing the camp if there's any disturbance76. Better a false alarm than an ambush77 that catches us all in our blankets. If it came to a fight, we might be in a bad way. We all carry skeans, but I don't think there's a shocker in the whole camp, let alone a gun. You don't have one by any chance?"
After the men had turned in, Cuinn patrolling the camp, halted a minute beside me and cocked his head toward the rustling60 forest.
"What's going on in there?"
"Who knows? Catmen on the prowl, probably, thinking the horses would make a good meal, or maybe that we would."
"Think it will come to a fight?"
"I wouldn't know."
He surveyed me for a moment without speaking. "And if it did?"
"We'd fight." Then I sucked in my breath, for Cuinn had spoken Terran Standard, and I, without thinking had answered in the same language. He grinned, showing white teeth filed to a point.
"I thought so!"
I seized his shoulder and demanded roughly, "And what are you going to do about it?"
"That depends on you," he answered, "and what you want in Shainsa. Tell me the truth. What were you doing in the Terran Zone?" He gave me no chance to answer. "You know who Kyral is, don't you?"
"A trader," I said, "who pays my wages and minds his own affairs." I moved backward, hand on my skean, braced78 for a sudden rush. He made no aggressive motion, however.
"Kyral told me you'd been asking questions about Rakhal Sensar," he said. "Clever. Now I, for one, could have told you he'd never set eyes on Rakhal. I—"
He broke off, hearing a noise in the forest, a long eerie79[41] howl. I muttered, "If you've brought them down on us—"
He shook his head urgently. "I had to take that chance, to get word to the others. It won't work. Where's the girl?"
I hardly heard him. I was hearing twigs80 snap, and silent sneaking81 feet. I turned for a yell that would rouse the camp and Cuinn grabbed me hard, saying insistently82, "Quick! Where's the girl! Go back and tell her it won't work! If Kyral suspected—"
He never finished the sentence. Just behind us came another of the long eerie howls. I knocked Cuinn away, and suddenly the night was filled with crouching83 forms that came down on us like a whirlwind.
I shouted madly as the camp came alive with men struggling out of blankets, fighting for life itself. I ran hard, still shouting, for the enclosure where we had tied the horses. A catman, slim and black-furred, was crouched84 and cutting the hobble-strings of the nearest animal. I hurled85 myself on him. He exploded, clawing, raking my shoulder with talons86 that ripped the rough cloth like paper. I whipped out my skean and slashed87 upward. The talons contracted in my shoulder and I gasped with pain. Then the thing howled and fell away, clawing at the air. It twitched88 and lay still.
Four shots in rapid succession cracked in the clearing. Kyral to the contrary, someone must have had a pistol. I heard one of the cat-things wail89, a hoarse90 dying rattle91. Something dark clawed my arm and I slashed with the knife, going down as another set of talons fastened in my back, rolling and clutching.
I managed to get the thing's forelimbs wedged under my elbow, my knee in its spine92. I heaved, bent93 it backward, backward till it screamed, a high wail.
Then I felt the spine snap and the dead thing mewled once, just air escaping from collapsing94 lungs, and slid limp from my thigh95. Erect96 it had not been over four feet tall and in the light of the dying fire it might have been a dead lynx.
"Rascar...." I heard a gasp70, a groan97. I whirled and saw Kyral go down, struggling, drowning in half a dozen or more of the fierce half-humans. I leaped at the smother98 of[42] bodies, ripped one away with a stranglehold, slashed at its throat.
They were easy to kill.
I heard a high, urgent scream in their mewing tongue. Then the furred black things seemed to melt into the forest as silently as they had come. Kyral, dazed, his forehead running blood, his arm slashed to the bone, was sitting on the ground, still stunned99.
Somebody had to take charge. I bellowed100, "Lights! Get lights. They won't come back if we have enough light, they can only see well in the dark."
Someone stirred the fire. It blazed up as they piled on dead branches, and I roughly commanded one of the kids to fill every lantern he could find, and get them burning. Four of the dead things were lying in the clearing. The youngster I'd helped loading horses, the first day, gazed down at one of the catmen, half-disemboweled by somebody's skean, and suddenly bolted for the bushes, where I heard him retching.
I set the others with stronger stomachs to dragging the bodies away from the clearing, and went back to see how badly Kyral was hurt. He had the rip in his arm and his face was covered with blood from a shallow scalp wound, but he insisted on getting up to inspect the hurts of the others.
There was no one without a claw-wound in leg or back or shoulder, but none were serious, and we were all feeling fairly cheerful when someone demanded, "Where's Cuinn?"
He didn't seem to be anywhere. Kyral, staggering slightly, insisted on searching, but I felt we wouldn't find him. "He probably went off with his friends," I snorted, and told about the signaling. Kyral looked grave.
"You should have told me," he began, but shouts from the far end of the clearing sent us racing there. We nearly stumbled over a single, solitary101, motionless form, outstretched and lifeless, blind eyes staring upward at the moons.
It was Cuinn. And his throat had been torn completely out.[43]
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1
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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bazaar
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| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
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loom
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| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
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skyscraper
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spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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hind
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musingly
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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sprawl
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| vi.躺卧，扩张，蔓延；vt.使蔓延；n.躺卧，蔓延 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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watchfulness
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| 警惕，留心； 警觉（性） | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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treacherous
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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vaguely
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metallic
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embroideries
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gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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swill
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| v.冲洗；痛饮；n.泔脚饲料；猪食；（谈话或写作中的）无意义的话 | |
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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crated
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| 把…装入箱中( crate的过去式 ) | |
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48
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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49
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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50
dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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gangling
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| adj.瘦长得难看的 | |
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beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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53
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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55
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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56
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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indigo
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| n.靛青，靛蓝 | |
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59
latitudes
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| 纬度 | |
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60
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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whines
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| n.悲嗥声( whine的名词复数 )；哀鸣者v.哀号( whine的第三人称单数 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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63
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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flailing
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| v.鞭打( flail的现在分词 )；用连枷脱粒；（臂或腿）无法控制地乱动；扫雷坦克 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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71
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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insistently
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| ad.坚持地 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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talons
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| n.（尤指猛禽的）爪( talon的名词复数 )；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物；锁簧尖状突出部 | |
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slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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91
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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collapsing
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| 压扁[平]，毁坏，断裂 | |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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98
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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99
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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100
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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101
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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