your taste."
Ifness gave a resigned acquiescence. "Bring our pacers around to the front; we depart as soon as possible."
CHAPTER 5
The Kash Blue-worms. were stirring when Ifness, Etzwane, and Fabrache rode forth. One man growled a malediction; another half rose to look after them; but they were in no mood for exertion.
From Shagfe the three rode west across the Wild Waste, an alkali flat stretching out to the limits of vision. The surface was a hard bone-white crust, powdered with a soft, acrid dust. Across the waste marched a dozen wind-devils, back and forth like dancers of a pavane, out to the horizon and back again, some tall and stately against the brilliant sky, others low to the ground, scurrying without dignity, presently collapsing into purposeless puffs and wisps. For a period Fabrache kept a watch to the rear, but when the huddle of huts disappeared into the dusty lavender distance and no bounding black shapes came in pursuit, he showed a somewhat more confident disposition. Looking sidewise toward Ifness, he spoke in a cautious voice, "Last night we struck no formal contract, but I assume that we travel in confederacy and that neither party will attempt subjugation of the other."
Ifness endorsed this point of view. "We have no particular interest in slavery," said Ifness. "We sold a pair of prime Somkhs on our way into Shagfe, but to speak frankly, the life of a slaver is too precarious and unrewarding, at least in the Mirkil district."
The region is over exploited," said Fabrache. "Since Hozman Sore-throat became active the population has diminished by a half. At Shagfe Inn we would see many strange faces, many different costumes and styles. Each Hulka clan maintained from three to seven fetish groups; then there would be Sorukhs from Shillinsk district, Shovel-heads and Alulas from Lake Nior, folk from over the Kuzi Kaza. A small slaver such as myself could earn a modest livelihood and keep a girl or two for his own use. Hozman Sore-throat has put an end to all this. Now we must scour the countryside for sheer sustenance."
"Where does Hozman Sore-throat market his merchandise?"
"Hozman keeps good secrets," said Fabrache with a spiteful sniff. "Someday he will go too far. The world is going sour; it was not thus when I was a boy. Think of it! Spaceships in battle; Red Devils looting and killing; Hozman Sore-throat and his illusory boon of inflationary prices. Then when he destroys us and depopulates Mirkil district, he will move on and work the same outrage elsewhere."
"I look forward to meeting Hozman," said Ifness. "He must have interesting tales to tell."
"To the contrary; he is as terse as a costive chumpa."
"We shall see, we shall see."
As the day progressed, the air quieted and the wind-devils disappeared; the three crossed the flat with no discomfort other than the baking heat/ By midafternoon the first slopes of the Orgai bulked ahead and the Wild Waste lay behind. As the three suns dropped behind the mountains, they rode over a hill and saw before them the broad Vurush, flowing from behind the Thrie Orgai and north into the haze. A grove of gnarled yews grew down to the water's edge, and here Fabrache chose to camp for the night, though chumpa traces were evident along the shore.
"They cannot be avoided, no matter where we camp," said Fabrache. "Three men with firebrands can keep them at a distance, if such a need arises."
"Then we must keep watch during the night?"
"Not at all," replied Fabrache. "The pacers will watch, and I will keep the fire ablaze."
He tethered the pacers to a tree and built a fire on the shore. Then, while Ifness and Etzwane collected a stack of resinous yew branches, Fabrache snared a dozen mud crabs, which he cracked, cleaned, and toasted, and meanwhile cooked meal cakes on hot, flat stones. "You are highly efficient," said Ifness. "It is a pleasure to watch you at work."
Fabrache gave his head a dour shake. "I know nothing else but this; a skill acquired across a
Margaret Weis;David Baldwin