The Blood-Rage (8) They destroyed all evidence of the cooking fire; and, with the stranger mounted again in front of her, Erendria rode off with her parents in the lead. But now, she observed, their searching gazes had an increased vigilance. Much to her disgust, the rest of the afternoon and early evening were uneventful. Except for the circling day-bats, not another living thing was seen. She felt that suddenly all of Agon's creatures were hiding from her anger. CHAPTER 8 When one narrows another's choices down to dishonor or death, only one choice is really viable if survival is paramount. However, if ego is paramount, sometimes a wrong choice is made. -From the Thoughts of Night Mist- Erendria was again the first to awaken. Unlike the previous night, she had spent this one sleeping inside her cupola with the stranger, and the night had been peaceful and without worry. The cupola gave them almost complete protection, for although any living thing that was moving slowly enough could pass through the wall of the dome, none would. Animals were frightened by the strange tingle of the energy field, and uninvited rationals would never break the Fifth Law, the one that sentences any rational to death if they violate the privacy of another's dome. She rose and removed the lok-band from around her forehead and the mindless one’s. But, also unlike the last time, she didn't linger to look into his open eyes. She was uneasy that his effect on her was increasing, a puzzling factor that was worrying her more and more. When she collapsed the cupola, the cold air engulfed them; and she saw the stranger rise to his feet without a command. She found this interesting and made a mental note to tell her father about it. Otherwise, she choose to ignore the stranger and started the day as she had every morning since she was a small child: the endlessly sought after perfection of the way of combat, the ver. Three-quarters of an hour later she was done, and every muscle in her body felt warm and alive. She brought her breathing under control and knelt for the period of meditation and examination. She opened her mind to the invisible river. As her mind-lock relaxed, she felt strange warmth. What's this? she wondered, but let the warmth embrace her mind and soon even expanded herself outward to greedily gather in more; the feel of it excited her. Slowly there drifted into her awareness a mental vision of two purple eyes in a background of gray, far away but approaching and growing in size. They rushed in toward her faster and faster. Quickly her mind was filled with the purple color, and a vibration of some sort seemed to be shaking her mind . . . or was it her soul? Suddenly she became afraid and tried to force her mind-lock closed. Unlike in the past, the effort was not easy, as if something was resisting the closure. She concentrated hard, gritting her teeth unconsciously. Sluggishly, like a heavy door swinging shut, she cut off the vision, blotting out the strange light and bringing back the relative silence of her inner-self. Her eyes jerked open. She turned her head and looked up. There stood the stranger ten feet away, a hint of a smile on his lips and his eyes staring back . . . purple eyes . . . so purple. She stood quickly and backed away, drawing her dagger. There was no smile in his face now, only the blank look of yesterday. She shook her head and sheathed the dagger. Stupid to connect the two, she thought. He can't think, much less mind-touch. And she turned away to watch the suns-rise, her body still tight with tension. What was that vision? Am I going crazy? She shook her head. No, maybe it’s just stress, stupid stress. She looked at the stranger again. Or perhaps my hatred for this animal. She heard a sound behind her and turned quickly. Emerging from his cupola, Gravestone called, "May your enemies fear you this morning, daughter." "And may yours fear you, father-teacher," she returned. Just greeting him relaxed her. Gods! What a change that was. He walked to them, inspected the appearance of the male, and asked, "How's our stranger today?" "Strange," she answered with a frown. Gravestone had always been able to read her and apparently saw the uneasiness she was trying to hide. "What has he done?" he asked. She related the stranger's unusual behavior: the rising without a command and the smile she saw on his face for a short time. But she did not tell of the strange mind-touch. She needed more time to ponder that. Am I being foolish going that? She wondered. Gravestone looked at the stranger carefully, then said, "I have the lok tuned to teach him to speak our language. This should take about sixty turns. But until he has a language with the mental pictures that goes with each noun, verb, and modifier, until he understands the logic of grammar and syntax, he'll not be able to form concepts and reason clearly, in other words, think." "Then why did he smile?" "I don't know. Perhaps for the same reason a baby smiles. He was happy or felt good." "Yes, of course," she agreed and felt better. Still, I wonder? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her parent's dome suddenly disappear, exposing Patra as the older woman rose to clip the small cupola cylinder to her weapons-belt. Patra then approached them and spoke directly to her, "I said yesterday that we would share in the responsibility of caring for the stranger. Therefore, if it's agreeable, you mind-search for mu-lynxes this morning, and I'll exercise him." She turned her gaze on the stranger, looking him up and down. Well, Erendria thought, that's a switch. She actually asked for my concurrence rather than just ordering me. "Fair enough," she readily agreed and walked quickly away to be alone to concentrate. Although in the past she had conveyed the feeling that she didn't want to be near him, that was no longer true. Yet by the very act of wanting, she tried to reject the desire, as if it was a weakness to want something. Patra turned to her weapon's-complement. "She appears subdued this morning. The stranger again?" Gravestone nodded, then said, "And again he's doing things a mindless brain would not. When we reach Rasp's camp tonight, I'm going to mind-probe him once more before his mind-lock becomes automatic. I want to look again into that mind block. We should be able to do that until he becomes rational." She shivered. "It's traumatic to look into a mind and find it void. It tends to drag one's mind down into nothing, sucking it dry." "I know. Two turns ago I got slightly sick when I looked into his. Do you remember when our daughter's mind-lock formed?" "At fifteen months," Patra answered, smiling at the cherished memory. "An orbit and an a half," he mused. "It was enjoyable to feel her mind grow during that time, remember?" "Yes," she agreed and looked at the stranger. "I have a feeling it won't be pleasant to feel this one's grow." Gravestone laughed and clasped her shoulder. "Of course it will. He's just like a child. You let his appearance color your judgment." He shook her slightly. "Isn't it time you exercised him?" Her smile seemed forced to him as she nodded and said, "I wonder if he's learned the word 'follow' yet?" "Try it," he suggested. She nodded again, tugged momentarily at the stranger's hand, and then ran down the gentle slope of the hill, calling, "Run! Follow me" The stranger stood still; he just looked after her. With the back of his hand, Gravestone slapped the young man on the chest. The stranger turned his head to look at him. Gravestone, in turn, immediately pointed toward Patra and said, "Follow!" The stranger looked in the direction of the pointed finger, paused, and then took off in quick pursuit. Gravestone watched him overtake Patra and then run with her, side-by-side. He noticed that the stranger's coordination was superb, his initial speed phenomenal. Gravestone became thoughtful, stroking his chin and frowning again. The man's progress was too fast, somehow. What am I missing? he wondered. Thirty minutes later three mu-lynxes bounded into their camp. Gravestone walked to Erendria and patted her on the shoulder, saying, "Well done again, my tall dagger." To him she appeared surprised; probably because not once this morning had he criticized her. This was her second turn as an adult, and for her to be treated as one was pleasant, he was sure. She bowed to him slightly to show her pleasure and respect. Gravestone grinned and then looked outward to scan the plains until he sighted Patra and the stranger. He motioned to his mate with his arm, requesting their return. Patra saw and headed back. When the two came to a stop before Gravestone, Patra was breathing hard while the stranger appeared not to be winded at all. "This one," Patra gasped, "could outrun an ice-tiger." Gravestone looked at the stranger and agreed. The three-hour test-run of yesterday had also given evidence to that. Gravestone then indicated the campsite with a sweep of his arm and said, "Erase all signs of our presence here, if any. We must be on our way. I'd like to be at Rasp's camp by early nightfall." Erendria obeyed him, and her short check of the site found nothing. They all walked toward the mu-lynxes. This time the stranger mounted Erendria's beast without assistance; he merely leaped on the animal. Gravestone felt this was incredible but was even more puzzled by the fact that the mu-lynx did not appear nervous at having a human on its back that did not mind-touch, as had the mu-lynx of yesterday. The stranger's latest actions were becoming more and more unpredictable, and that, Gravestone could tell, made them all uneasy. He shrugged. What will be will be, he thought fatally. As they rode off the hill, Friosan and Ardent warmed their left sides. Gravestone was aware of Erendria's continued and obvious annoyance as Patra did the hunting again that morning. His mate came back an hour later with four small foxes, the animal's heads gone and the soft fur of their bodies skinned. However, to his daughter's approval, the stop to cook and eat the animals was short; and they were soon on the move again. By mid-afternoon, almost all the chill was out of the air, and Patra noticed that everyone felt good. They rode up a small hill and stopped in unison on its crest. Below them, spread out in a straight line, stood nine mu-lynxes with a silent warrior on the back of each. Patra sucked in her breath and held it. "Dismount the stranger," Gravestone whispered immediately out of the side of his mouth. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, Patra helped the stranger slide off the mu-lynx, and then she and Gravestone moved their beasts together to block the silent band's view of him. Her heart hammered in her chest, and the familiar rush of adrenalin made her body hot. To meet strangers, particularly in such numbers, was always dangerous. Grimly she and her family sat quietly for many minutes, looking at the other group. To her there seemed to be an ambiance of spilled blood about their countenance. This was a band up to no good. Finally a sword spoke from within the center of the group- of-nine. She saw that he was huge, with unruly black hair and about a hundred small scars crisscrossing his body. "Suns-rise," he said slowly with his left fist held high. This one has fought many 'daggers' . . . and won, Patra observed with some dread. This was very rare. Gravestone returned the greeting, and then said, "It's not often that I see a group as large as yours. What do you seek?" The large warrior's brow furrowed as his eyes shifted downwards. "What are you hiding?" "What are you seeking?" countered her weapon's-complement again, his voice now sharp. "I seek weakness. I seek revenge." "To what end?" The big warrior lifted his eyebrows and said, "An Agonian needs to ask that? Why, to destroy it, of course." "Then seek elsewhere," Gravestone ordered. "We'll handle any weakness among us." A small rider, almost wizened-looking, kneed his mu-lynx closer to her and Gravestone. The little man said, "My brother and I have made it our life's sport to hunt out the impure upon Agon. For us it's a form of entertainment, sport if you will." He snickered before continuing. "We presently search for a dagger who wears a diode-cloth during all seasons and thus hides from our eyes." "That's no reason to kill someone. Unless, that is, your sport is perverse." "She has done us wrong, killing some of our band. Now, we insist that you show us who it is that you hide." "Insist?" Gravestone inquired, one eyebrow raised. His tone made the hairs behind Patra's neck rise. She thought: This little fool doesn't know whom he angers. The bigger warrior said, "Perhaps you cannot count? Don't be foolish in your arrogance. We're tired and hungry and have little patience left." "It's you who are foolish to assume that mere numbers can defeat the clan of Kalt. We deal with our own weaknesses, and we have no knowledge of the dagger you have just described. Move aside!" There was anger in the big one's voice now. "By your very actions, I'm now certain that weakness rides with you in some form. And since you harbor it willingly, you all must be weak also. But if you show it to us now, we'll purify Agon for you and let the rest of you ride free. This isn't a request but an order. Beware!" Gravestone growled, "Listen to our reasons for harboring weakness; it's important. We seek only to serve Agon. And we aren't, damn you, weak."
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