Free Fire Time by Poul Anderson Page B

be false, and there are some about their having done things jointly with mortals, which may all be true. Would it not be wonderful to have the friendship of a daur?
    ‘I lifted the tree off him, not too heavy for me. I bore him to a cave nearby, treated his wound as best I was able, made him a bed of lia. For days thereafter I brought him water, and food of his kind. I say “him” but know not if “her” would be right, or “it”, or what. Nor do I know if we became friends as mortals do. Who can tell what a daur thinks, deep in his belly or petals or wherever his soul abides, if he has a soul? I do know we lost shyness of each other and began to swap a few words. I could not utter histrills and squeals well, though I did better than he did at my speech. Yet we learned the meaning of certain signs and noises.
    ‘When he was healed, he gave me no treasure or magical power as I had hoped. He only made me understand that he wished me to come back whenever I could. I went home mightily thoughtful. Of course I said naught to anybody of what had happened.
    ‘I did return often. Most times nobody met me, but now and then I would go off with a whole little band of those beings. They used no metal, and gave me tools of stone, useless to my size and shape of hand but finely chipped and perhaps lucky to carry. For my part, I guided them around – remember, they did not live here, they just came south over the Desolation Hills and along the Worldwall on brief trips – and I helped them catch the small game which could not nourish me, and gave them bones from my larger kills to make into tools. I think that must be one thing they sought. Animals in the Starklands are all dwarf, as I would learn long afterward.
    ‘Meanwhile I began courting a female. In rashness I boasted to her at last of my comradeship with the dauri. Less bold than I’d supposed, she fled from me in terror. Soon two of her brothers sought me out and accused me of trying to cast a spell on her. Anger kindled anger till they were stretched dead. Parents on both sides were quick to compose the quarrel, before a feud could start. I’ve since wondered if that’s not the real reason fathers have absolute power over sons and grandsons, mothers over daughters and granddaughters, till the age of sixty-four – not “upbringing”, not “rightness”, not the word of a god, whatever we believe today – but simply that before this law, too many young were getting slain.
    ‘Regardless, my father saw he had best give me leave to depart. I went right blithely. For the next hundred years or such, there were more exciting things to do than run on Mount Fang with the dauri. I was a hunter, and brought skins to Tarhanna for trade. When I heard that the out-landers paid better for phoenix wood, I became a lumberjack.We would raft our logs down to Port Rua, and thus I got to know that town. What its soldiers, sailors, and merchants told me about South-Over-Sea fired me and I took to the water myself.
    ‘At first I was a buccaneer. But that was a poor trade in those days. We dared raid no island that held a legionary post, and most did. Soon I shipped as a deckhand on a Sehalan freighter.
    ‘Long I wandered the lands of the Gathering, taking what work I found, until I joined a legion. I liked that, but when my octad was over I didn’t re-enlist; for I had grown thoughtful. No, I went to Sehala itself and lived on my savings while I read books – I had learned to read; it’s not a wizard’s art, whatever you’ve heard – and hearkened to wise folk.
    ‘You will understand. Year by year the Burner was brightening.
    ‘They grew troubled in Sehala. Always civilization had gone under, in flood, storm, famine, breakdown, and the onset of wild peoples driven out of countries still more ruined. Nevertheless, they had hope. In the last two cycles, legionary organizations had saved something, more the second time than the first. Aye, several of the legions are that old, the