The Way Into Chaos (36 page)

There was a moment of silence. Then Hent barked out a loud, long laugh. Kell and the other woman joined in, and Cazia could see that they all had filed their teeth down to points, too. It was ghastly.
 

Mahz settled back onto her cushion, scowling at Cazia. Then she glanced over at the younger warriors by the door and shook her head as if to say,
Can you believe this?
 

“There was once the time,” Mahz said, “when all of the clans of the Sweeps were fierce and feared. Plow-pullers and rock-breakers made to send their families to hide in the wilderness when we strode over the horizon. Then the empire came. The passes were blocked with pink stones. Alligaunts grew in strength and numbers in the west. There’s little room for the free people in the world.”

“We are a free people,” the princess said.
 

“
You
might be free, little devil,” Mahz answered, wagging her finger. Cazia had broken her performance, somehow, and now she seemed like an old woman with too many responsibilities and too little sleep. “Your hands are soft enough, both of you, and your chaperone does not appear to have ever gone hungry in her life.”

Cazia rolled her eyes. “Great Way, spare me.”
 

“Oh, do not complain! You will make to grow up to be quite the woman! I’m sure you will find the strong husband, the way you look. We might even find one for you here, provided you can prove you know how to work. But you do not make to understand what I am saying, children: we are being driven out. There’s no place for the free people any more.”
 

Cazia suddenly understood. “You know what happened to the camp, don’t you?” She glanced over at the warriors by the door. The woman with the red-rimmed eyes hadn’t laughed with the others, and now she looked as though she wanted to hug Ivy to her breast and cry again. “It’s happened to you, too. That’s why you’re so close to the pass and the fort; you’re driving your herd out of the Sweeps to escape from something, aren’t you?”
 

“It was not my decision,” Mahz said. “I would have made to stay and die out in the wind. But we have many little ones, and they deserve the chance to grow up. So, we must sell our herd and find new lands to live in.”
 

Cazia tried not to think of little children with filed teeth. “You can’t sell your herd at Fort Samsit.”
 

“Oh? And why is this?”
 

No flying carts had come north through the pass. “Because it’s been overrun. Peradain has been invaded by grunts...by monsters. The fort has been lost. If you take your people there, they will all die.”
 

There was a long stretch of silence again, but this time, no one broke it with laughter. Mahz hissed and looked at the floor, her fists clenched at her side. Finally, Kell said, “That news is valuable to us. Thank you for making that kind gift.”
 

Ivy looked up at Cazia. Gift? She didn’t know what that meant, either.
 

“Of course...” Mahz said, her face turned toward the floor and her expression stormy. “Of course, I will repay such the gift in kind. You have corrected the error that would have ended my clan forever.”
 

Cazia watched her carefully. Did this mean they weren’t going to kill her and Ivy? It hardly seemed likely that things could have taken such a sudden turn. What had they done?

“Can we talk about the camp?” the princess asked. “I would like to make a trade, if you would be so kind.”
 

Cazia looked at the little girl with her peripheral vision. She had suddenly become very polite, probably because she was just as flummoxed by Mahz’s change in demeanor as Cazia was.
 

“What sort of trade?” Mahz’s accent sounded rougher than before; the words were almost a growl.
 

“I would keep any coin found in the camp, and whatever tools or provisions Cazia and I can carry. You would get all the rest--the cloth, clothes, toys, tools, weapons, all of it. In exchange, you would help us bury the bodies.”
 

Mahz’s answer was almost listless. “We will not make to touch the serpents.” Something strange was happening here, and Cazia wished she knew what it was. “That is impossible.”

“If your people will dig the graves--one for each human or serpent--Cazia and I will put the serpents in.” She looked up at Cazia, who nodded to her.
 

Mahz looked up at the ceiling. “I agree.”
 

“Thank you,” the princess said demurely. The chieftain only nodded without looking at them.
 

“Come,” Hent said to the girls. Her tone and expression had become much softer, almost affectionate. “There is stew for you to share. We will make to eat under the stars together, and we will do it before darkness falls. Tomorrow, we will see to the dead.”
 

Cazia and Ivy stood. The old chieftain wouldn’t look at them, but that was fine. Cazia wasn’t in the mood to feel sorry for Mahz.
 

Hent led them onto the narrow deck beyond the door. She took her long, slender spear from the rack. Cazia and Ivy’s two iron-tipped spears had been placed there, too. No one objected when they took them. They followed Hent across the backs of the herd, heading north.

Ivy looked back at the camp as though she was afraid it would be gone in the morning. Cazia wished she could say something reassuring, but the truth was that there was nothing reassuring about their situation. The Ozzhuacks had let them take their spears, but Cazia half expected to be murdered during the night.
 

“Keep that spear tip up,” Hent said. Cazia was holding her point above the horizontal, but she copied the older woman and pointed it straight up. At the edge of the herd, they leaped down into the grasses.
 

“This way to the food,” Hent said, leading them toward the front of the herd. “You do not want to be downwind of the okshim while you are trying to eat.”

The princess looked at the herd, packed so close together. “Do they step in each other’s...messes, being so close to each other?”

“Yes,” Hent answered. “When the okshim kicks you, it leaves you broken
and
filthy. They eat it, too.”
 

“What?” The princess’s face turned pale.
 

“It is true. The lead animals eat grass, but they can not make to digest it in one pass through. The ones in back--especially the young ones--get more value from plants that have already been through Mommy and Daddy’s guts.” She laughed at Ivy’s expression, showing those horrifying teeth. “Do not worry. We do not make to feed our young ones the same way.”
 

“What will we be having?” Ivy asked, her lips pursed.
 

“Roast okshim, mostly. More tea as well, and you had better make to drink it. It is the only clean water you are going to get.”
 

“We will,” Cazia said.
 

Hent gave Cazia a sidelong look. It made her uncomfortable, and she looked away, watching the older woman from the side of her eye. “You really played old Mahz in there.”
 

Cazia wasn’t sure if she was being criticized or not. It didn’t seem like it, but with those teeth, everything that woman said seemed like a threat. “I don’t know what you mean.”
 

“Oh, no?” Hent gave Cazia another long look. After a moment, her sly smile showed some surprise. “You are telling the truth, yes? You really do not know what you did.”

“Are you going to kill us?” Cazia asked. Hearing
yes
as an answer would have been horrifying, but not knowing was becoming unbearable. “Ever since--Kell, was it?--took our spears, I assumed you were going to kill us. But honestly, at this point, I have no idea what you’re doing.”
 

“I wish Mahz could hear you say that. No, girl, we are not making to kill you. I do not know what you are used to down in the southlands, but in the Sweeps, we prize hospitality. We have to, considering the dangers we face. That is why property and gifts are so important to us.”
 

Ivy huffed. “Then why was your chieftain pressing us to relinquish our claim to the camp? Why did she threaten us?”
 

Cazia was grateful that Ivy kept using
we
and
our
, even if it was just because she needed someone older to support her claim. Hent’s response was delivered in a flat tone, “We are desperate. Alligaunts have been bad enough. Grass lions we can handle. But these birds have made things impossible, may they rot from their guts. We have lost six children in the past eight days alone, and four strong warriors.”
 

“Great Way, I didn’t know.” Cazia remembered the woman with the red, puffy eyes. How many more like her were there? The image of that huge raptor flying over Samsit flashed through her mind, and she shuddered. “I’m so sorry.”
 

“We have not managed to take the single one of theirs in return. At first, we did not even know what was happening. We would wake in the morning and discover the empty flat with ripped bedclothes in the middle of the camp. Just as we figured out what was happening, we discovered the Poalo clan’s cart, fully wrecked like the carts in your camp. The herd was gone, the people destroyed, their goods scattered.”
 

“That is why you are hurrying to Fort Samsit,” the princess said. “To sell the herds and the goods you have collected, and try to start a new life.”

“Whatever life I can find down there,” Hent answered bitterly. “What freedom does an unmarried woman have in the empire? Do you think I could find a husband with a smile like this?”
 

She grinned with those horrible pointed teeth, and Cazia’s first instinct was to say,
No chance of that,
but after a moment’s thought, she realized she had seen stranger things in the palace. “Well, not a good husband, maybe, but I’m sure you could find someone.”
 

Hent rolled her eyes. “The real reason you took the sprint out of Mahz was by the gift you gave her.”
 

“Kell said something about that,” Cazia said. “But I don’t understand. How is telling you about the problems at the fort a gift?”
 

“Because news is vital, and hospitality is the way of life for us. Mahz didn’t expect… You southlanders always respond to arrogance with threats or pleas for mercy. She expected you to drink her tea and then violate her hospitality; she would have then made free to take the camp. Instead, you shared news that will save all of us and you did not even try to bargain first. You see? If someone gives to you when you are in need, you must repay them.”
 

“Ah,” Ivy said. “I think I understand. Hospitality enhances the giver and weakens the recipient. If Mahz can not return a gift of equal value, she will be in our debt, and that is a mark against the honor.”

“Very good, little girl. And of course it is only made worse by the fact that we have been weakened by these attacks; Mahz is desperate for the way out, ashamed of the way she bullied you, and not only was the bargain you made so much in her favor, it was practically the act of charity itself, but she was forced to balk at the serpents and demand even better terms.”
 

It was almost as though Hent was accusing them of manipulation. “We weren’t trying to embarrass her,” Cazia said, trying to hide her resentment. “We were just trying to be decent.”

“We shall try to return the kindness. Believe it.”
 

They had reached the front of the herd. There were three old men tending a fire, laying spits of meat across the flames and squabbling about the best placement of them. Six adults slept on little wooden pallets laid in the grass, while children ran in circles, playing the same chase games all small children enjoy. Two older kids were cutting grass and laying it in front of the herd, feeding the lead okshim.
 

A full dozen warriors, armed with spear and bow, patrolled the edges of the camp, watching the grass and the skies.

Hent led them to the fire, where she gave the old men orders in her own guttural language. Cazia wasn’t sure if she should reach for her translation stone in case the words
Poison them
came up, but her moment of indecision cost her the opportunity.
 

Hent promised to return to talk more, then left to confer with the guards. The old cooks brought a pallet for the girls to sit on, then brought them skewers of meat, mushroom, and wild onion. Cazia didn’t try to understand their language, but they were clearly competing to see whose cooking would be most pleasing.
 

The princess made a sour face when she accepted her skewer, but Cazia said, “Eat it and smile.”
 

“There is a reason spoiled twelve-year-old girls do not make good diplomats,” Ivy responded. “I’d almost rather have some of your salt-crusted jerky bread.”
 

“Oh, please. It’s not actually crusted with salt. And we had better accept whatever they offer us, not only so that our own provisions last. I don’t want to insult them. Having them in our debt is a good thing.”
 

“Until it goes to far and they kill us both.” Ivy tried to slide a piece of meat off the skewer, but it was too hot to touch. The shortest and leanest of the old cooks leaned over her, smiling and miming that she should eat with her fingers. She smiled back and blew on the piece, then popped it into her mouth. “This is actually pretty good!”
 

The cook took her response as vindication and returned to the fire to taunt the others.
 

Ivy ate an onion next. “Even after everything Hent told you, you still do not trust them?”
 

I don’t even trust you anymore.
But Cazia couldn’t say that. That was too cruel. She ate from her skewer. Ivy was right; it was delicious.
 

The other cooks forced them to finish two more skewers, even though they were full after the second. They also brought cups of tea, which tasted better alongside the food. When Hent returned, she conferred briefly with the cooks, then said in Peradaini, “They want to know which you liked best.”