Warriors Of Latan

Chapter 9

Blade never found out what kind of recommendation the Wise One and Ellspa gave his telepathy, but they must have spread glowing reports of his virility. In the next few days, it seemed that half the unattached women of the Rutari asked him for sex, and a fair number of the attached ones as well.

Blade tried to be a gentleman. He accepted as many of the propositions as he thought would be safe, mostly from the unmarried women. He'd proved himself in the kerush-magor, in bed, in the hunt, and in the pit against the Great Hunter, but not in war. Until he'd done that, at least some of the husbands would feel they couldn't honorably ignore his bedding their wives.

However, the problem of his having no reputation as a warrior looked like it was about to be solved. The air of the village was thick with rumors that the Rutari would soon march against the Uchendi. It would not be all-out war, but it would be the biggest raid in years against the ancient foe, with many prisoners for cleansing or other rites. There would also be all the chances Blade could ever want to distinguish himself as a warrior.

He might also find out more about the Uchendi. Everyone seemed to know two things: that their telepathic powers were better than the Rutari's, and that they were unworthy of keeping the mysterious Idol. If anybody knew anything else, they weren't talking. Piecing snatches of conversation together, Blade understood that the Uchendi lived in the plains farther down the River of Life, and depended more on agriculture than hunting. He also got the impression that they had better lizard-horses than the Rutari, but didn't tame or use the Great Hunters.

In a few more days, Blade saw men repairing harnesses and sandals, filling provision bags, sharpening spears and knives, and exercising lizard-horses and Great Hunters. The Wise One and Ellspa were busily supervising a large gang of workers of both sexes, cleaning the prison caves and laying in supplies of kerush and everything else needed for cleansings.

Three days before the raid was set to depart, Blade learned from Teindo that he would not be allowed to fight. To do him justice, the Blue Hunter seemed ashamed both of the messages and of having agreed to bring it to Blade. This didn't make him any the less firm in laying down the law to Blade, including promising him a harsh fate for disobedience.

«Being cleansed before the Great Hunters as Awgal was is the least you can expect if you disobey,» Teindo said soberly. «There are other fates that might be yours, which I shall not describe. They are too ugly. Also, none of them have been used for so many years that I do not know all about them.»

«Thank you for your kindness,» said Blade.

Teindo ignored the sarcasm. «This is not my wish or that of either the Blue or Red Hunters. It is the wish of-those who think you have more to teach the Rutari than things about war.»

«So-the Wise One says I'm too valuable to be exposed to Uchendi spears?»

«She has not said it exactly that way, but that is a good way of saying it-yes.»

«Well, if the Wise One will punish any warrior who calls me coward, no harm will be done. If she does not do this there will be no peace between us. No one can ask me to hold my honor as a warrior lightly, no matter what they want to learn from me. This I swore before I left my own land, long before I ever heard of the Rutari or they of me!»

Teindo looked uneasily around as Blade raised his voice. But he seemed to be sincere when he replied, «I will bear your message to the place from which I brought mine. Indeed, I do not think they are so foolish as to ask otherwise.»

«It is best that it be so,» said Blade, and turned away to walk off briskly. His anger wasn't entirely an act. Was he a guest of the Rutari or a guinea pig for the Wise One?

Well, so much for his chances of learning about the Uchendi and their telepathy first-hand, unless he wanted to risk offending the Wise One. And he still didn't know much about telepathy among the Rutari!

The kerush would improve whatever telepathic powers you had, but how much it would improve was rather unpredictable. It would make almost anyone capable of receiving telepathic messages, in a muddled sort of way. He'd been to one orgy with everyone on kerush and knew just how muddled the messages could be. He and Cheeky communicated more clearly the first time they ever had a telepathic conversation! A fair number of Rutari could get up to the normal telepathic level of the Wise One and Ellspa with the help of massive doses of kerush. But the two women seemed to be the only really powerful telepaths in the whole tribe.

Blade might not have been so frustrated if he'd been able to talk freely with Cheeky. Unfortunately, Cheeky seemed to be spending all his time making love to Moyla and gorging himself on fruits and nuts the Wise One fed him. He was living a life of ease, and if he ever gave Blade or the Project a thought, Blade certainly didn't know it. He did know that Moyla didn't like him-she'd told Blade to «Get lost!» more often than he cared to remember.

Cheeky, Blade realized, was in the position of a boy in love for the first time with a beautiful, willing, but rather dumb girlfriend. All his brains had flowed down into his sex organs, and were going to stay there for a while.

Cheeky sat on top of the hut of Moyla's mistress and watched the human fighters ride out of the village. Moyla was beside him and a bowl of nuts between them. They were his favorite kind of nuts, so Moyla got them from her mistress whenever she could. She did this sort of thing often, which proved to Cheeky that she liked him. It was almost the first time a female like him had felt that way.

The Master Blade did not like Moyla, Cheeky knew. He also knew that Moyla did not like the Master Blade. She thought he meant harm to her mistress, or perhaps would take Cheeky from her if he went away from the village.

Cheeky saw Blade standing in the shadow of a hut, watching the fighters ride past. Blade's face showed that he was not happy. Cheeky wished he could enter the Master's mind and find out more about his unhappiness. However, Moyla did not like spirit speech between Cheeky and Blade. When he tried to talk to the Master, she would be angry for days at a time.

If he could only learn how to reach his master to find out what he was thinking without either his Master or Moyla knowing! But he did not think he could do that without his Master's help in the first place. This was not good. Also, if his Master was angry with him about Moyla, would the Blade help him at all? The Master did not think like a female, but he seemed to think that he and Cheeky were as littermates to one another.

Perhaps if Cheeky brought to the Master some of what he wanted to know, he would forgive? Perhaps. What did the Master want most to learn?

Of course! The thing the Mistress Wise One called «the Idol.» What was it? The Wise One herself had gone to it, taking Moyla with her. So Moyla should certainly know.

(«I tell you about where I go, Moyla. Always I tell you. Now you tell me about when you went with the Mistress to the Idol.»)

Moyla said and thought nothing. Instead she stroked Cheeky's crest in a way that always made him feel good and said she felt good, too. Then she cracked a nut and popped the meat into his mouth. He gave her paw an affectionate nip.

(«The truth, Moyla. You say I do what you do not want me to do. I say, you do the same. I want to talk. Where did you go?»)

(«You do not like me if you ask that sort of question. If you do not like me, I do not like you.»)

Cheeky glared at Moyla. She looked really angry, and all he could read in her mind was the anger. But there was something else there. She wasn't angry just because she thought he didn't like her as much as before. She was angry because she'd been told not to answer this question. If she'd been told this, then she must know the answer.

Again, Cheeky wished he could talk with the Blade about this. The Master was much wiser about asking questions, for it was his whole life. But the Master might not talk to Cheeky until Cheeky found the answer himself!

Cheeky was so angry he wanted to pull the feathers out of his head. He did not, because that would tell Moyla that he was angry, without her even reading his thoughts. Then she would tell the Mistress Wise One, and Cheeky knew the Wise One could spirit-speak to him whenever she wanted to even if he did not want to hear her.

That might be bad for the Master Blade.

So Cheeky decided he would do as well as he could with what Moyla told him without knowing she was telling him. That might be quite a lot, since most of the time she trusted him. Then, when he had learned everything he was going to learn, he would go to the Master Blade. The Master Blade was kind; he would understand why Cheeky had made his mistake and forgive him for it.

Then they would talk again as they had before. They might even talk about what had come into Cheeky's mind, so that his thoughts seemed clearer and faster. There were old tales that at one time all the Feather People had been the way Cheeky was now. But the tales were so old that no one had ever met anyone who knew one of these Feather People with strong thoughts. Cheeky himself had never believed the tales, until suddenly his thoughts were also strong.

Surely the Master Blade would know more about this. If he did not, some other one of the Master People might know. The Master People always thought strong thoughts. They also lived much longer than the Feather People. Blade might have been alive in the time when the Feather People's thoughts were strong!

Cheeky stopped himself before he got so excited that Moyla would hear and then tell the Mistress Wise One about Cheeky's strong thoughts. That would be bad for him and for the Master Blade.