Ice and Shadow (40 page)

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Authors: Andre Norton

Tags: #Space Opera, #General, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Fiction, #Short Stories

BOOK: Ice and Shadow
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Taynad had a blade which was near the length of a short sword encased in a sheath once covered with a grimy brocade which was now peeling from it in strips. At the top of the scabbard showed also the hilts of two small knives and she had worked one out of the damaged sheath to show, unrusted, an almost needle-thin weapon perhaps as long as her hand. Such were perhaps meant for eating purposes but they were close to those weapons the Sisters were well-known to hide in hair coils or hanging sleeves, and Jofre had no doubt that she would be able to put them to the best service. She also had a Makwire chain, which she was twisting about now inch by inch to test it, for there were stains of rust on her fingers where she handled it. However, beneath that surface flaking it appeared to be strong enough to satisfy her.

“Gentlehomo and—Gentlefem—” The salesman looked at Taynad as if she were indeed an oddity in such a place, or else her air of knowing exactly what she wanted from this dingy heap was a surprise to the seller. “Have you made some discovery—? But this—this is of second rating. You would be better with the swords from Lanker, or the ruby-headed daggers of Grath. Now those are proud weapons.”

“They are,” Jofre returned, “but not to our purpose—”

“No,” Taynad struck in, “we do not seek weapons of fine show, but rather ones we can use to demonstrate various forms of fighting. We think to display combat for show.”

“So? Are you then from the Arms Court of Assherbal? It is known that his battle displays are very lifelike—close to the real—blood spilled, even.”

“Something like is what we aim to do.” Jofre picked up her hint quickly. “No, Gentlehomo, what price is put on these?” He indicated what they had set aside. The salesman eyed their selections with a disdain he did not attempt to conceal. Certainly his attitude had become brusque—that of one dealing with persons below the social rating of those he commonly served.

He quoted a price well within the credits Zurzal had transferred to Jofre’s new account and for the first time Jofre made use of that ever-present aid to off-world living.

Their selections were bundled into a sack in a hurry as if the salesman did not want it seen that such dingy wares were going out of his shop, and they returned to the open street.

They were passing by one open-fronted shop where there was a sprouting of tables edging out into the thoroughfare and for each some stools. The aroma of food was strong enough to combat and defeat the scents wafting from a place of perfumes across the way.

Jofre nodded towards one of the tables. “It smells good,” he said simply. For it did, better somehow than the exotic dishes which were constantly offered them at the inn. Taynad gave a heavy sniff and then showed him again that very fleeting smile.

“So it does, and no Shadow food either. Yes, let us try it to see if it tastes as good as it smells.”

They seated themselves at one of the tables, Jofre allowing the package of weapons to lie on the floor between his feet, and consulted the menu printed in trade and displayed as part of the tabletop between them.

Not too far away a woman in a spacer’s uniform chose a table and settled into a seat there. The occupant who was already there greeted her with a nod. He was humanoid to about the fifth degree, but his heavily furred body, erect pointed ears, and wide well-toothed mouth, showed he did not share his companion’s Terran breed.

“Those then.” He did not look at Jofre and Taynad, and his voice was very soft, nearly a growl.

“Those. I pass them on to you, Lenoil. She wants them well watched. And do not take them lightly, they are of a trained-for-fighting breed—the most feared on their home world.”

“One world among many,” her companion replied. “We all have our champions. Sometimes such do not survive—”

“No! No interference with them, only watching,” the woman said swiftly. “Watch and report—you are staying at the Auroa as are they; therefore, you have better chance to keep an eye on them. Be sure that eye is ever there.”

CHAPTER 22

THE ZACATHAN
walked in upon a scene of concentrated industry. His three companions were seated on the floor and each was busy. The Jat was drawing back and forth through a length of oil-stained cloth a supple chain. Beside him Taynad honed the narrow blade of a very small knife and opposite them both Jofre was fitting another chain, thicker, well able to support such a burden, with a series of wicked-looking hooks, pausing now and then to test his work with a swing or two of the metal line.

“Luck, Learned One?” They had all three looked up at his coming but it was Jofre who asked that.

“As yet none. Almost one could believe that there was some pattern we are not able to understand—” He paused as if not knowing just how to put his thoughts into words.

“A warn off by the Patrol!” Jofre suggested.

“I hardly think so. We seek Free Traders, and they do not take kindly to official warning unless those are delivered with force. Two such ships have planeted within the last ten days. One is already chartered by a party of engineer-techs to transport them and their equipment to Helga. The other carries no passengers and is mainly an asteroid mining ferry.”

“It may be a long wait, Learned One.” Taynad had not halted work on her knife while she listened. “It seems you deal with the whims of fortune now and that is always sheer chance.”

“Yet there is no better place to await any transportation than here,” Zurzal returned. “I have spread the word as to what I wish. And this is on route to Lochan—which is why I chose it as a base in the beginning. Have you consulted those?” He indicated the three tapes lying on the tabletop beside the reader.

“It seems a place about which very little is known,” Taynad commented, “if that is all which we have to consult, Learned One.”

“A barren land,” Jofre struck in, not that that was any deterrent as far as he was concerned. The northern stretches of Asborgan were certainly sere and stripped enough. “It seems to be mainly desert—”

“As far as we know. Yes, that is all the information on file,” Zurzal assented. “It does not have too promising a reputation—there is no great trade to be found there—small stuff—some strange furs, odd minerals—”

Taynad fitted the newly sharpened knife into a small sheath of her own devising, one actually woven from strands of her hair. “Then why should anyone go there—or is it that this Lochan might have other uses for outworlders—a hidden base, perhaps?”

“Guild dealings?” Zurzal shook his head. “It was well combed for any off-world activity after the failure of Desmond’s expedition. There is no defense against Patrol sensors, unless the establishment would be a major one and Lochan certainly could not support such.”

“Treasure?” Taynad submitted another surmise.

“Not the kind which would draw the average trader. Though it was the matter of some artifacts turning up in the cargo of such a one which first directed us to Lochan. What we seek there is another kind of treasure than would draw Guild interest—knowledge. There is good reason to think there may be one of the Forerunner repositories there.”

“The Guild seeks knowledge, too—” Taynad commented. “Is it not rumored that they discover what they can which may be put to their own uses?”

“The scanner!” Jofre had fastened his last hook and was coiling the chain to accommodate those additions.

“Which will not serve them,” Zurzal answered. “We learned long ago to protect our tools from wrongful use. Were any other to attempt to use the scanner, it would destruct. That is built into every tool of the sort which we lift from our own world.”

“How long a wait then, Learned One, until such a ship as you wish sets down here?”

“Not too long. There is one which made the run to Lochan five planet months ago. It has made two runs and each time to a near planet. The ship is old, the captain not one, I have been told, who is ready to push into any other territory. We can expect the
Haren Hound
to be in port soon if all goes to the past pattern.”

Jofre had moved to the wide window-door which gave upon the balcony servicing this portion of the floor.

“We are being watched,” he said flatly. “I do not think we are off the Patrol’s hook yet.”

“The watcher?” Zurzal demanded quickly.

“Differs. We could slip them if we wish. We would rather learn who they are and why eyes and ears are set on us. To learn that perhaps it is well to let them go about this Shadow business for a space longer.”

Tetempra was already seated at the head of the table in the wide room which could be entered only through her personal office. There were five of her staff flanking her and at the other end of the table, awaiting any orders, Ho-Sing.

“They have rearmed themselves, this guard and the woman, with barbarian weapons—such as can only be used in hand-to-hand combat. Doubtless they prepare so for the wastes of Lochan. Our people cannot penetrate into their suites because of the Jat—it is very quick to sense anyone who is not friendly to its bondmates.”

“It can be removed—” came the suggestion from an obese and warty-skinned member to her right.

“And give them warning? Nusa, have your brains begun to addle already? I thought your skin-shed season was yet well off. No, we do not move against them. But there is this other matter—the message—the order to be given to the Asborgan woman. So far we have not been able to separate her from her companions. But a bargain is a bargain and this one must be carried out. Ho-Sing, have you any new thoughts on reaching the woman long enough to pass a message without the others knowing what has happened?”

“This morning the room maid spoke to her of the Fragrance baths—she showed interest. The maid receives a percentage of what any guest spends at the Tri-lily—she will endeavor to send this woman there. The maid’s in debt to Dabblu; she may be reached through that—though the hotel staff are supposed to be incorruptible.”

“Excellent. This you will move on, Ho-Sing. When this one goes to the Tri-lily one will meet with her—seemingly by accident—to the beholders—but for our purposes. Let it so be arranged.”

“The ship, Veep Tetempra?” Salanten being officious once again, her eyes slitted to mere threads though she did not turn those on him, rather focused her attention on a small com before her.

“The Learned One is waiting for the
Haren Hound.
We have prepared the way very well in that direction. Gosal is due in very shortly—the new drive we installed in his bucket of rusted bolts has delighted him; he is very willing to be able to pay for it in service. Which is well since any cargo he has lifted in the past could not pay for a wind wheel!”

“Do the Patrol have a watch on them?” One of silent others spoke. “The Tssek business could not have made the authorities happy.”

“Ho-Sing?” Tetempra looked to the head of her Shadow service.

“None we have picked up and Everad has scanned for them. But—”

“But what?” Tetempra demanded when the other continued to hesitate.

“I think that they—at least the guard—the woman—guess that they are under observation. We have been using the utmost care and they have done nothing to throw us off—”

“Still you sense it yourself, Ho-Sing?” the Veep concluded for her. “Very well, have one of your force make some error which will suggest he is Patrol or planet force inspired. They may well be expecting that and will go about their business freely. I can leave that well to you.”

“Why does that priesthood on Asborgan want the guard so much they offered us such a price ?” Again it was Salanten pushing himself forward.

“He has been outlawed by them. All these priesthoods and religious overlords turn vicious if any of their followers begin to think for themselves. I gather they wish to make an example of him. He seems to be on passable terms with the woman at present but once we pass on Zarn’s message we may cause complications for them all.”

“It is a thing that travelers indulge themselves in,” Taynad said as they shared their meal on the terrace. “I think,” she continued, “that the maid is probably paid a small fee for suggesting that one goes—if one
DOES
go thereafter.”

“We are not just travelers,” Jofre said sharply. Their few excursions into the whirl of the city round them had been all for very practical reasons, the obtaining of weapons, clothing, finding out from information sources what they could about possible transportation and the planet Zurzal wanted to explore.

“This might be a chance,” the Zacathan said slowly, “to discover more about those shadows you believe are hovering around your trail. Yes, I know it would mean that Taynad would take off on her own, but I believe that there is that in issha training which favors the individual over even a duo. By all means, Jewelbright, try this new sensation, you may have something to import to Asborgan on your return.”

He did not like it. Jofre was opposed to her going out alone even at midday and in a city so well policed that no casual crime had existed for years. Nothing must disturb the well-being and peace of the travelers on whom all Wayright’s industry was centered. Why did he have this inner warning? Did he fear some improbable attack on Taynad? Certainly all his training would turn him against such a thought—issha did not doubt the skill and ability of issha—she was very well able to take care of herself.

Then—what was it? The fact which had been nibbling at him now for days, that she seemed to accept the Zacathan’s offer of employment with no thought that her home Lair might see matters very differently? She had not been oathed to this as was he, and without the oath—Then there was a freedom which could turn to enmity on the demand of a Lair Master. That she could not return to Asborgan without assistance was true. But it would take time for the happenings on Tssek to filter back to that world and meanwhile she had to live. There was the Jat and the linkage; Jofre kept coming back to that for assurance. Surely the creature linked so to them both would display uneasiness, perhaps even more, if Taynad did not mean exactly what she had said to Zurzal. Still—

There was no use in following her to this Tri-lily for it was a luxury establishment for females only. He was also somehow sure that she would know what he was doing if he tried to follow her, at least to the door. For the moment there was nothing Jofre could do and he resented it.

To escape his own thoughts he started a practice session, concentrating on learning just what could be done with his new weapons, the Jat squatting on a cushion to watch him with very round eyes.

The establishment of the Tri-lily was imposing but in an oddly discreet way, as might a Jewelbright slide into a mixed company and subtly let her presence there dawn slowly on those about her. There was a living doorguard, not a robot voice box, to bow Taynad into a room which somehow wrapped one around with a feeling of relaxation and peace. How this effect was accomplished she had no idea, and indeed her issha suspicion tightened. There would be no wearing away of her own core of control, no matter what outward signs of enjoyment she might need to summon.

“Gracious and Illustrious One—” A slender female shape moved from between two misty blue-green wall hangings.

They were prepared to pile it on; Taynad’s professional interest sifted it all. Greeting suitable to some highborn, but delivered with apparently complete sincerity. She gave several points to the manager here—perhaps even a Jewel House Mistress might be impressed.

“Bright day,” she responded pleasantly, but allowed to creep into her voice a faint tone of uneasiness as if indeed she were a little daunted by such ceremony. “I have heard—there is a maid at the Auroa who spoke highly of the restful value of your services. Such are new to me—but—”

“You were interested enough, Illustrious, to come and see what there is to be offered? We have many services—but since you have not visited us before, perhaps it is well that you begin by making your season choice—”

“Season choice?”

“Yes, it is known that beings differ greatly in their reaction to environmental changes. Perhaps on your world spring is the season which holds the strongest meaning for you—during which you feel at the best. Or you may look forward to the ripeness of summer—the soothing warmth—the cloudless skies under which living things rise to their fruitfulness. There are those also who find autumn stimulating—the first crispness of freshening winds, the savor of the land which has been touched faintly by frost. And there are those, though they are fewer in number, who like the bracing of storms, the clear cold of mornings when ice begems twigs and branches. We have these, Illustrious, ready for your service.”

Taynad was intrigued. For a moment she held a flash of memory—of being young—running barefooted across a dew-wet strip of tiny mountain meadow to sniff the first star flowerets of the year.

“I think I choose spring,” she found herself saying.

“If you will come this way, Illustrious, you shall meet spring—”

One of the curtain panels on the wall was looped aside and she stepped ahead of the attendant into a narrow corridor not more than three strides long, and so came into a second room. Or was it a room? She could not actually see any walls except a fraction of the one embracing the door behind her. There was a mass of greenery to the sides, and, centering, a pool into which flowed liquid. She might have come out into the open of one of those mountain valleys she knew so well, except this had no skin roughening winds tunneling down it, and the softness of the air was a caress on her flesh. There were fragrances carried by those lightest of breezes, clean, fresh scents of newly awakened growth reaching for new life and renewal.

The attendant beckoned her on to the side of the pool. There were places there for sitting, cleverly hollowed into the seeming stone. Some were so placed they would allow entrance into the pool. The attendant indicated one larger rock.

“You place the fingers so, Illustrious. Within is the spring robe for your use, also there are certain balms and essences. The spring maid will be with you when you are ready—only touch this,” she touched another spot on the rock chest, “and she will come at once. What is your pleasure, Illustrious, as to other refreshment? We can offer the spring drinks of near a hundred worlds—”

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