[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
fifth in quick succession. He had duplicated in light the call for help of a military drummer.
He had only sufficient material to repeat the cycle once. And then he could only wait. Reflected off
clouds, the flashes' were so brilliant to Jovian vision that they should be per-ceptible for fifty miles or
better. But were his people that close? And would they investigate? He crept tiredly back to his shelter.
Footfalls roused him some hours after dawn.
Two males were climbing the mountain. They were gaunt and dirty, but they carried Nyarran weapons.
And when they saw him they burst into a gallop.
"Reeve, oh, my Reeve!"
Theor embraced them. For a space he was joyous, he had beaten the wilderness, reached his own kind
by a road no Jovian ever trod before. Then he thought,The real fight is only begun, and said, "We had
best start back at once. This is not a good country."
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The scouts had come on forgarback, with a couple of remounts. Before turning one over to Theor, they
brought him up to date on what had happened. "Though little there is to tell, Reeve. We could not make a
stand anywhere on the plain, so we crossed the Steeps and went on for two days north, to where there is
a lake and game can be gotten. There we are still encamped, not knowing whether to return and die or
stay and become Rollarikans. Some have argued that we could swing far east of Medalon and so south
until we reached the Foresters, who might aid us. But doubtful that is, and our homeland would long have
fallen to the enemy before we could prepare an expedition."
"Yes, we have little time," Theor agreed. "Nyarr cannot stand siege much longer than foodstores last,
and they are scant at this season. Without Nyarr city and the ice works of Ath, even if we won back the
land we would be meat for the next barbarian incursion."
He pondered what to do as they traveled. There was no clear answer. But his resolution stiffened, and
he entered the camp with long strides.
It was not conspicuous. The plaited lean-tos were scattered through the woods and most of the people
were out each day on the chase. But Walfilo had had a large hut erected on the lakeshore, and his banner
flew above.
The scarred professional welcomed Theor with a genuine gladness, heard his story and was gratifyingly
impressed. But then he asked, "What have you in mind to do?"
"Return as fast as we can," Theor answered. "If we cross the Wilderwall at Windgate Pass, we will enter
Medalon not far from the Brantor River, with forests close by for the making of rafts. Thus we can
approach the city with speed, unobserved until we are near-at which time we will go ashore and attack
the Ulunt-Kharul. When those within sal-ly forth, the enemy will be caught between two hosts."
"Which he will chop into bits," Walfilo granted. "We are not the army which your demi-fathers led out.
Death, wounds, and hunger have dealt hardly with us."
"What other choice have we?"
"This. We are settling into Rollarik, already learning its ways, having daily more success at winning food.
No band of miserable woodsrunners can oppose us. Belike we can even raise a smithy on that volcano
where you were, and so continue to have cast weapons. We can establish our-selves as the germ of a
new nation."
"Leaving our kin to be devoured?"
Walfilo winced. "That is a hard necessity. But I have been a fighter all my life, Reeve. This is not the first
time I have had to sacrifice much in order to keep something vital. A march against the Ulunt-Khazul can
only end in us too being devoured; and then darkness will indeed fall over the world."
"You may know more of war than I do," Theor said angrily, "but you show little knowledge of what is
needed for a civilization. Why do the Rollarikans forever seek to spill across Medalon? Because this
country is poor. Rains leach the soil until only trees as hardy as the yorwar flourish. The plants that supply
most of our fiber would not grow here. And do you know how many octads of years it would take to
clear enough land for even the scantiest ranching? As for that volcano, the ice minerals I have seen there
are not those which make good alloys. We are too few to maintain a literate culture-and how much help
would mates be that we stole from the barbarians? I tell you, if we remain here the darkness will come
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almost as fast, and even more surely, than if we go home and hazard our lives."
"That is your judgment. Mine is otherwise. We might in time regain Medalon, you know, by the help of
allies-"
"A Medalon ruined, with its people dead or scattered or enslaved, because we were too cowardly to
help them!"
Walfilo's comb bristled. "Call me not coward," he said, "or I will cease to call you Reeve."
Theor choked off his own wrath. An inbred coolness descended; he weighed the problem, watched the
balance tilt, and said: "I take it you forbid a return." Walfilo gestured yes. "Let us assemble the army,
then, so that they may understand the case."
He spent the remainder of the day preparing his speech. His education had included rhetoric, and his
conversations with the alien Fraser had sharpened that training.
Toward sunset the host gathered by the lake. Theor mounted a tree stump and looked over them.
Spears and helmets blazed in the last light, rank upon rank; the shields were faded and battered, but he
could still make out emblems which had a proud history.
"Males and demimales of Nyarr." His voice rolled into a deep, waiting stillness, where the forest stood
black above the lake's glimmer. The least strirring went through the armed lines, like a small gust before a
storm. "Both my demi-fathers died at Gillen Beach, where you also left comrades and kin. Now I am told
I must betray them."
"What?" Walfilo started furiously. "I deny-"
"The Reeve is speaking," Theor said. "By the law of Nyarr, you shall say what you will afterward; but
none now may interrupt." He turned back to the army. "The enemy has pillaged his way to our city. He
seals it shut with edged ice, and waits for our children and mates to die. I cannot call that an evil thing to
do-not yet-not while we are doing just the same."
They roared!
When Theor had finished, Walfilo took the stump, looked coldly at the weapons which threatened him,
and cried, "If this is your will, so be it. We shall spend two or three more days gathering food, and then
we return to Medalon. Dismissed!"
He stepped down again and sought Theor. "That was a cruel and unfair word you gave them," he said
through the shouting. "You knew well that I was acting as seemed best for the people."
"Indeed I do." Theor clasped the warrior's shoulder. "But had I not the same obligation? You told me [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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fifth in quick succession. He had duplicated in light the call for help of a military drummer.
He had only sufficient material to repeat the cycle once. And then he could only wait. Reflected off
clouds, the flashes' were so brilliant to Jovian vision that they should be per-ceptible for fifty miles or
better. But were his people that close? And would they investigate? He crept tiredly back to his shelter.
Footfalls roused him some hours after dawn.
Two males were climbing the mountain. They were gaunt and dirty, but they carried Nyarran weapons.
And when they saw him they burst into a gallop.
"Reeve, oh, my Reeve!"
Theor embraced them. For a space he was joyous, he had beaten the wilderness, reached his own kind
by a road no Jovian ever trod before. Then he thought,The real fight is only begun, and said, "We had
best start back at once. This is not a good country."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
The scouts had come on forgarback, with a couple of remounts. Before turning one over to Theor, they
brought him up to date on what had happened. "Though little there is to tell, Reeve. We could not make a
stand anywhere on the plain, so we crossed the Steeps and went on for two days north, to where there is
a lake and game can be gotten. There we are still encamped, not knowing whether to return and die or
stay and become Rollarikans. Some have argued that we could swing far east of Medalon and so south
until we reached the Foresters, who might aid us. But doubtful that is, and our homeland would long have
fallen to the enemy before we could prepare an expedition."
"Yes, we have little time," Theor agreed. "Nyarr cannot stand siege much longer than foodstores last,
and they are scant at this season. Without Nyarr city and the ice works of Ath, even if we won back the
land we would be meat for the next barbarian incursion."
He pondered what to do as they traveled. There was no clear answer. But his resolution stiffened, and
he entered the camp with long strides.
It was not conspicuous. The plaited lean-tos were scattered through the woods and most of the people
were out each day on the chase. But Walfilo had had a large hut erected on the lakeshore, and his banner
flew above.
The scarred professional welcomed Theor with a genuine gladness, heard his story and was gratifyingly
impressed. But then he asked, "What have you in mind to do?"
"Return as fast as we can," Theor answered. "If we cross the Wilderwall at Windgate Pass, we will enter
Medalon not far from the Brantor River, with forests close by for the making of rafts. Thus we can
approach the city with speed, unobserved until we are near-at which time we will go ashore and attack
the Ulunt-Kharul. When those within sal-ly forth, the enemy will be caught between two hosts."
"Which he will chop into bits," Walfilo granted. "We are not the army which your demi-fathers led out.
Death, wounds, and hunger have dealt hardly with us."
"What other choice have we?"
"This. We are settling into Rollarik, already learning its ways, having daily more success at winning food.
No band of miserable woodsrunners can oppose us. Belike we can even raise a smithy on that volcano
where you were, and so continue to have cast weapons. We can establish our-selves as the germ of a
new nation."
"Leaving our kin to be devoured?"
Walfilo winced. "That is a hard necessity. But I have been a fighter all my life, Reeve. This is not the first
time I have had to sacrifice much in order to keep something vital. A march against the Ulunt-Khazul can
only end in us too being devoured; and then darkness will indeed fall over the world."
"You may know more of war than I do," Theor said angrily, "but you show little knowledge of what is
needed for a civilization. Why do the Rollarikans forever seek to spill across Medalon? Because this
country is poor. Rains leach the soil until only trees as hardy as the yorwar flourish. The plants that supply
most of our fiber would not grow here. And do you know how many octads of years it would take to
clear enough land for even the scantiest ranching? As for that volcano, the ice minerals I have seen there
are not those which make good alloys. We are too few to maintain a literate culture-and how much help
would mates be that we stole from the barbarians? I tell you, if we remain here the darkness will come
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
almost as fast, and even more surely, than if we go home and hazard our lives."
"That is your judgment. Mine is otherwise. We might in time regain Medalon, you know, by the help of
allies-"
"A Medalon ruined, with its people dead or scattered or enslaved, because we were too cowardly to
help them!"
Walfilo's comb bristled. "Call me not coward," he said, "or I will cease to call you Reeve."
Theor choked off his own wrath. An inbred coolness descended; he weighed the problem, watched the
balance tilt, and said: "I take it you forbid a return." Walfilo gestured yes. "Let us assemble the army,
then, so that they may understand the case."
He spent the remainder of the day preparing his speech. His education had included rhetoric, and his
conversations with the alien Fraser had sharpened that training.
Toward sunset the host gathered by the lake. Theor mounted a tree stump and looked over them.
Spears and helmets blazed in the last light, rank upon rank; the shields were faded and battered, but he
could still make out emblems which had a proud history.
"Males and demimales of Nyarr." His voice rolled into a deep, waiting stillness, where the forest stood
black above the lake's glimmer. The least strirring went through the armed lines, like a small gust before a
storm. "Both my demi-fathers died at Gillen Beach, where you also left comrades and kin. Now I am told
I must betray them."
"What?" Walfilo started furiously. "I deny-"
"The Reeve is speaking," Theor said. "By the law of Nyarr, you shall say what you will afterward; but
none now may interrupt." He turned back to the army. "The enemy has pillaged his way to our city. He
seals it shut with edged ice, and waits for our children and mates to die. I cannot call that an evil thing to
do-not yet-not while we are doing just the same."
They roared!
When Theor had finished, Walfilo took the stump, looked coldly at the weapons which threatened him,
and cried, "If this is your will, so be it. We shall spend two or three more days gathering food, and then
we return to Medalon. Dismissed!"
He stepped down again and sought Theor. "That was a cruel and unfair word you gave them," he said
through the shouting. "You knew well that I was acting as seemed best for the people."
"Indeed I do." Theor clasped the warrior's shoulder. "But had I not the same obligation? You told me [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]