things.'
'Things?'
'I mean daily things. Setting up the tent. Taking down the tent. Sleeping. Eating. Helping with the chores at the Veselov tribe. Watching the children. I'm not sure we have anything in common.'
'Besides blond hair and handsome faces, you mean?' She made a face at him. He chuckled. 'Can't sharing a life full of daily things be something shared in common?'
'Oh, of course they can. But…' She swung the chest into the wagon and watched as Gwyn hoisted the poles and her carry bag into the bed as well. She piled the pillows on top. 'Sometimes I talk about acting, and sometimes he talks about war. We listen politely to the other one, but I don't care about strategy and how his uncle sent the right flank, or was it the left flank-you know. I don't think he cares that much about acting. I think he thinks that it's some kind of mystery he's not supposed to know the secrets of.''
One of the Telyegin sisters walked down the line of wagons, checking the harness and the beasts-Diana thought of them as oxen although they were called glariss-hitched to the tongue. Diana waved to her, and the older woman waved back but kept walking. Ahead, at the edge of the field, the first wagons started westward, the rising sun at their backs. 'Do you want to ride with me?' Diana asked as she clambered up to the seat and took the reins.
'Honored, I'm sure,' said Gwyn with a flamboyant bow. 'This will keep Anahita off my back. She's very insistent about having an affair with me, and I'm getting tired of it.'
'Oh, my. Is that an edge to your voice that I hear? I've never heard you ruffled before, Gwyn.'
As he climbed up, they were hailed by Hal and Quinn. 'Can we come along with you?' Quinn yelled from a distance. They broke into a run and arrived, panting and breathless, and managed to climb into the bed, scrambling on top of the pillows, just as the line lurched forward. 'We're saving Hal from his dad. They got into a roaring argument.'
Diana glanced back to see Quinn bright with the excitement of having witnessed the altercation. Hal looked morose and angry.
'He's so damned patronizing,' muttered Hal. 'He treats these people like they're experimental subjects-'
'We're all experimental subjects to Owen,' said Gwyn.
'— yes, but we chose-well, at least you three chose-to participate in the experiment. I mean, look at what's going on around us. Does he even notice? People dying. Children starving. Cities destroyed. I swear he only thinks of it as a canvas for him to work on, and work against. Did you see what my mother is doing? She's recasting Lear with Lear as a jaran headwoman, and then the rest is pretty much the same, and rendering it all into khush.'
'Oh.' Diana felt a sudden, obliterating sense of discovery. 'That's marvelous. I think it'll work, too.'
Hal swore. 'What gives us the right to tamper with their own tales, their sense of history? We've already performed Mekhala's story, and now we're working on the second one, which if you ask me is a damned sight risky.'
'What?' demanded Quinn. 'The old myth about the daughter of the sun who comes to earth? You can't imagine they'll ever suspect the truth, can you?'
'Isn't that patronizing? This is supposed to be an interdicted planet. We shouldn't be here at all!'
'They can't stay interdicted forever,' said Gwyn softly.
'They haven't!' exclaimed Hal. He lapsed into a sullen silence.
The wagon bucked and heaved up over the line of earth that demarked the field from untilled earth. In the distance, a burned out village stood silent in dawn's light. A few walls thrust up into the air, blackened, skeletal. Nothing stirred in the ruins.
'And you know what else?' said Quinn in a low, confiding voice. 'I think Hyacinth has a boyfriend.'
Diana snorted. 'According to Hyacinth, he has a thousand boyfriends, and as many girlfriends, too.'
'Hyacinth does tell a good story,' said Gwyn.
'Oh, come on,' said Quinn. 'Phillippe says that Hyacinth has slept in their tent every single night since we switched tent mates. Well, he said there were three nights that Hyacinth didn't sleep there, but he knows it was a woman Hyacinth went to because-well, anyway, he knows.'
'Because he was sleeping with her himself,' muttered Hal.
'Oh?' asked Quinn tartly, 'and you haven't been propositioned, Hal? Are you telling me that you haven't slept with even one jaran woman since we got here?'
Hal pursed his mouth mulishly and refused the bait.
'But anyway,' continued Quinn, 'Phillippe thinks Hyacinth has a real boyfriend.'
'Isn't that dangerous?' Diana asked.
'Well, you have one. Hell, you have a husband.'
'Quinn.' Diana sighed, disgusted. 'Don't you use your eyes?''
'I don't want to talk about it anymore,' said Quinn, seeing that her audience was not prepared to amuse her. 'And anyway.' Diana glanced back again to see Quinn undoing her carry. Quinn looked furtively to each side, and once behind, and then drew out her slate. 'I have the first act of the recast Lear. Do you want your lines?''
So as they advanced across the countryside, they studied their lines and exclaimed over the twists Ginny had worked in to the basic plot. They passed a second burned village, and a third. In the early afternoon the walls of a city loomed in the distance. Carrion smells drifted to them on the breeze. A pall of smoke obscured the horizon. Diana had to concentrate on her driving as the wagon bumped and pitched across a succession of trampled fields.
'How are these people going to eat if all their crops are gone?' Hal mumbled.
'Oh, Goddess,' Quinn gasped. 'Look.'
There, a stone's throw away from the path of the wagons, lay a mound of corpses. A vulture circled lazily in and settled on a dead man's chest, and began to feed. Rats scurried across the tumbled bodies. Diana wrenched her gaze away and kept her eyes on the back of the wagon in front of her. A blond child lay on the pillows in the bed, blissfully asleep. But the two women in the front glanced only once at the corpses and then away, as if the sight did not interest them.
More bodies littered the fields, in heaps, mostly, as if they had been rounded up and slaughtered en masse, although now and again a single body could be seen fallen in the midst of trampled corn, an arm outstretched- defiant or pleading, Diana could not tell. Quinn had her hands over her eyes. Hal stared with haunted eyes at the destruction.
'It's been worse,' said Gwyn softly, 'these last fourteen days. They must be taking revenge for that curse they say the Habakar priests put on Bakhtiian.'
Ahead, the city lay lit with fire, but as they came closer, Diana could see figures on the walls. She could see a pall like smoke sheeting the air between the walls and the vast army stretched out below. This time arrows shot out from the jaran side, too. A billow of black cloud rose up from inside the city, tinged with the stench of burning.
A crowd huddled out beyond them, in a field flattened by the advance of the jaran army. 'At least there are some survivors,' said Diana, and then she saw what they were doing: jaran riders were slaughtering their captives. Mercifully, it was too far away for her to see what they were doing in detail, and she averted her eyes in any case. The wagons trundled on. Ahead, the jaran camp grew up out of range of missile fire from the city walls, but they did not stop. Their line of wagons went on, circling the city at a safe distance and heading on. Everywhere was devastation. The army had swept through with a scythe of utter destruction, leaving nothing in its wake. Once or twice they passed a pitiful huddle of refugees, exclusively women and small, terrified children, but mostly they saw no one, as if this fertile land were uninhabited. Once a small troop of mounted women passed, herding a great mob of bleating goats and cattle and sheep-not the kind the jaran kept, but different breeds-and once again they saw a troop of riders killing prisoners. Mostly the land was empty, and emptied.
By dusk, the city was a glow on the horizon behind them. If it did not fall tomorrow, then it would fall next week, or the week after. They made camp alongside a sweetly-flowing river. Diana went down to the river to wash, as if she could somehow wash the day's horrors from her.
A number of jaran women had flocked to the river's edge, and many of them simply stripped and waded into the water while others took clothing downstream to wash.
'Diana!' Arina beckoned to her from the shore, where she stood watching a naked Mira splash in the shallow water.
