Shadowkill

##

Though she was uncomfortable there and increasingly ambivalent in her attitude toward the Matja Allina, wanting to dislike her, unable to dislike her, Kizra had to spend part of each day in the landrover amusing her. With Kulyari glaring at her, then turning her back on her, she knelt beside the Matja’s bed playing the arranga.

When Matja Allina felt strong enough, she whistled tunes for Kizra, sang the words once Kizra had the tune right, teaching them to Kizra and smiling with pleasure when Kizra sang back to her. She enjoyed the teaching; it was something to do to make the hours, pass, difficult hours for Allina since the landrover was only a degree more comfortable than the truck and she was worn out by the jolting and the boredom.

Most days Tinoopa was there, too, spinning tall tales when the Matja was too tired to sing, tales about Shimmaroh real and mythical.

Kizra watched this and listened, enjoying the stories and absorbing the lesson. Tinoopa had her charm going full blast; she wasn’t missing a beat as she contrived to make herself valuable. It was an education in how to deal with power when you’ve got none yourself.

Kizra heard a flurry of sharp cracks, a rattle against the landrover’s sides, one of the windows starred but didn’t break; the pellet that hit it went whining off. She stopped playing. “Wha…”

Matja Allina’s lips tightened to a thin line. “Tumaks,” she said and motioned for Kizra to keep playing. “Nothing to worry you. We’re well protected.”

Tinoopa sat cross-legged, her back against the sidewall-the one away from the main thrust of the attack. “What are tumaks?” she said. “Better we know so we can help against them.”

Matja Allina sighed. “Tumaks are hired fighters. Before you ask, no, I don’t know who did the hiring. Procagharadad Family is in Kirtaa with several other Families at this moment. It could be any of them.” Before Tinoopa could ask, she laughed and went on. “Yes, yes, Kirtaa. Private war. Mostly an exchange of snipings. It’s juvenile nonsense and… be quiet, Kulyari, I don’t care to hear you rant… and desperately wasteful, but that’s the way things happen here.” The landrover picked up speed and the jolting increased exponentially. Matja Allina ignored the difficulty, spoke around the major jounces. “There’s… nothing much you can… do, chapa Tinoopa… just learn to… find shelter quickly… when the shooting starts. Ungh! No, no, I’m all right. That was a bad one, wasn’t it.” She lay pallid, sweating and breathing hard, silent for several breaths, then took up where she’d left off. “You’ll have to watch for Brushies, too, the organized tribes don’t bother us…” she paused as the landrover slowed, settled to,a more sedate progress. “There, that’s over for the moment… but there are always outcasts ready with a knife or poison dart, so you should stay behind the Kuysstead walls. Ah yes, there were no natives on this world, the Brushies are either Contracts who left before term or the land-tied who untied their knots.” She smiled again, shook her head. “Not a good life, chapa, no way a good life. You’ll be far better off staying with us.”