Chapter 10

They were six days out of Putl’ko and their supplies were almost exhausted. The country, once they were away from the mountains, became more fertile, an undulating pampas of grass with enough streams and herds of beasts to assure that they did not starve. It was fuel that mattered, and that afternoon Jason had opened their last jar. They stopped a few hours before dark since their fresh meat was gone, and Snarbi took the crossbow and went out to shoot something for the pot. Since he was the only one who could handle the clumsy weapon with any kind of skill in spite of his ocular deficiencies, and who knew about the local game, this task had been assigned to him. With longer contact his fear of the caroj had lessened, and his self-esteem rose at his recognized ability as a hunter. He strolled arrogantly out into the knee-high grass, crossbow over his shoulder, whistling tunelessly through his teeth. Jason stared after him and once again felt a growing unease.

“I don’t trust that wall-eyed mercenary, I don’t trust him for one second,” he muttered.

“Were you talking to me?” Mikah asked.

“I wasn’t but I might as well now. Have you noticed anything interesting about the country we have been passing through, anything different?”

“Nothing. It is a wilderness, untouched by the hand of man.”

“Then you must be blind, because I have been seeing things the last two days, and I know just as little about woodcraft as you do. Ijale,” he called, and she looked up from the boiler over which she was heating a thin stew of their last krenoj. “Leave that stuff, it tastes just as bad whatever is done to it, and if Snarbi has any luck we’ll be having roast in any case. Tell me, have you seen anything strange or different about the land we passed through today.”

“Nothing strange, just signs of people. Twice we passed places where the grass was flat and branches broken as if a caroj passed two or three days ago, maybe more. And once there was a place where someone had built a cooking fire, but that was very old.”

“Nothing to be seen, Mikah?” Jason asked with raised eyebrows. “See what a lifetime of krenoj hunting can do for the sense of observation and terrain.”

“I am no savage. You cannot expect me to look out for that sort of thing.”

“I don’t. I have learned to expect very little from you beside trouble. Only now I am going to need your help. This is Snarbi’s last night of freedom whether he knows it or not, and I don’t want him standing guard tonight, so you and I will split the shift.”

Mikah was astonished. “I do not understand. What do you mean this is his last night of freedom?”

“It should be obvious by now--even to you--after seeing how the social ethic works on this planet. What did you think we were going to do when we came to Appsala--follow Snarbi like sheep to the slaughter? I have no idea what he is planning. I just know he must be planning something. When I ask him about the city he only answers in generalities. Of course he is a hired mercenary who wouldn’t know too much of the details, but he must know a lot more than he is telling us. He says we are still four days away from the city. My guess is that we are no more than one or two. In the morning I intend to grab him and tie him up, then swing over to those hills there and find a place to hole up. I’ll fix some chains for Snarbi so he can’t get away, then I’ll do a scout of the city...”

“You are going to chain this poor man, make a slave of him for no reason!”

“I’m not going to make a slave of him, just chain him to make sure he doesn’t lead us into some trap that will benefit him. This souped-up caroj is valuable enough to tempt any of the locals, and if he can sell me as an engine-mechanic slave his fortune is made.”

“I will not hear this!” Mikah stormed. “You condemn the man on no evidence at all, just because of your nasty minded suspicions. Judge not lest ye be judged yourself! And you play the hypocrite as well, because I well remember your telling me that a man is innocent until proven guilty.”

“Well this man is guilty, if you want to put it that way, guilty of being a member of this broken down society, which means that he will always act in certain ways at certain times. Haven’t you learned anything about these people yet? Ijale!” She looked up from contented munching on a krenoj, obviously not listening to the argument. “Tell me, what is your opinion? We are coming soon to a place where Snarbi has friends, or people who will help him. What do you think he will do?”

“Say hello to the people he knows? Maybe they will give him a krenoj.” She smiled in satisfaction at her answer and took another bite.

“That’s not quite what I had in mind,” Jason said patiently. “What if we three are with him when we come to the people, and the people see us and the caroj...”

She sat up, alarmed. “We can’t go with him! If he has people there they will fight us, make us slaves, take the caroj. You must kill Snarbi at once.”

“Bloodthirsty heathen...” Mikah began in his best denunciatory voice, but quit when he saw Jason pick up a heavy hammer.

“Do you understand yet?” Jason asked. “By tying up Snarbi I’m only conforming to a local code of ethic, like saluting in the army or not eating with your fingers in polite society. In fact I’m being a little slipshod, since by local custom I should kill him before he can make us trouble.”

“It cannot be, I cannot believe it. You cannot judge and condemn a man upon such flimsy evidence.”

“I’m not condemning him,” Jason said with growing irritation, “Just making sure that he can’t cause me any trouble. You don’t have to agree with me to help me, just don’t get in my way. And split the guard with me tonight. Whatever I do in the morning will be on my shoulders and no concern of yours.”

“He is returning,” Ijale hissed, and a moment later Snarbi came up through the high grass.

“Got a cervo,” he announced proudly, and dropped the animal down before them. “Cut him up, makes good chops and roast. We eat tonight.”

He was completely innocent and without guile and the only thing guilty about him was his shifty gaze which could be blamed completely on his crossed eyes. Jason wondered for a second if his assessment of the danger was correct, then remembered where he was and lost his doubts. Snarbi would be committing no crime if he tried to kill or enslave them, just doing what any ordinary, decent slave-holding barbarian would do in his place. Jason searched through his tool box for some rivets that could be used to fasten the leg irons on the man.

They had a filling dinner and the others turned in at dusk and were quickly asleep. Jason, tired from the labors of the trip and heavy with food, forced himself to remain awake, trying to keep alert for trouble both from within and from without. When he became too sleepy he paced around the camp until the cold drove him back to the shelter of the still-warm boiler. Above him the stars wheeled slowly and when a prominent one reached the zenith he estimated it was midnight, or a bit after. He shook Mikah awake.

“You’re on now. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything stirring and don’t forget a careful watch there,” he jerked his thumb at Snarbi’s silent form. “Wake me up at once if there’s anything suspicious.”

Sleep dropped like a heavy curtain and Jason barely stirred until the first light of dawn touched the sky. Only the brighter stars were visible on the eastern horizon and he could see a ground fog rising from the grass around them. Near him were the huddled forms of the two sleepers and the farthest one shifted in his sleep and he realized it was Mikah.