“Careful,” Clete said as I stepped aboard. I accepted children as he started handing them across. “I picked you a good one, boss, but it will lean over if you don’t keep the weight balanced. Ma’am.” He helped Sahra. She acknowledged his courtesy with a dazzling smile.
“Thanks, Clete. See you tomorrow night.”
“Right. Round up some cattle and dancing girls.”
“I’ll check around.”
“Kneel down. You got to keep the center of gravity low so the damned thing don’t tip.”
I glanced around. We were ready to go.
Six Nyueng Bao men were aboard. They would paddle over. Five would bring the raft back. Other than them, Rudy and I and one gimp Nyueng Bao about fifty were the only adult males aboard. There were fifteen or sixteen kids and half as many women. We were crowded but Nyueng Bao make a light load. I volunteered to help paddle but the men on the job lost their capacity to understand Taglian.
Rudy said, “If they want to be dicks and bust their nuts, no sweat off our asses.”
“You’re right. But keep it down. We’re doing a sneak here.”
It turned out the Nyueng Bao were skilled boatmen. Which should have been no surprise considering their origins.
They remained as quiet as falling feathers. And made rapid headway. The rafts immediately ahead had Taglian paddlers who not only made a lot of noise, they were slow. With just a whispered word my paddlers swung right and began passing.
It was not much of a sneak, overall. Paddles splashed. People bumped, grunted, banged around and occasionally managed to collide with other rafts. But those were noises that came off the water every night and tonight the drizzle was deadening some of the racket. And, of course, we were headed straight away from the city. The light inside the opened tower served as a navigational beacon.
My paddle men maybe did not keep the best watch on the light. We drifted way off line and lost it altogether.
Somebody hissed.
Paddles stopped dipping. Even the murmur of the little ones stilled as mothers placed hands over their mouths or pulled lips to teats.
I heard nothing.
We waited.
Sahra rested her hand lightly upon my arm, sharing reassurance.
Then I heard the clumsy paddling. Somebody was farther off course than we were... Only this raft was headed the other way.
It was too early for that.
The sounds grew louder.
The other raft came abreast, so close that it seemed they had to see us despite the darkness and rain.
A voice said something softly, just a few words edged with anger. In the language of Gea-Xle. I had picked up maybe twenty words, none of which I recognized now.
I did not need to know words. I knew the voice.
That was Mogaba.
He had not been spotted leaving during the day. From the north and west barbicans it was possible to watch most of the lake surface.
Which meant that he had been away at least since the previous night. Which, in turn, would explain why there had been no response to our capture of the barbicans.
What business could Mogaba possibly have over there?
The Nar paddled on into darkness. We resumed our journey. I remained lost in thought till the raft ran aground and tossed me forward.
Sahra and I took up To Tan and our burdens and marched ashore. The little guy was sleeping like his aunt’s arms were a palace bed.
In moments I discovered that my companions, although utterly ignorant of the Taglian language, expected me to be in charge on this side, too. Uncle Doj’s idea, no doubt, and in effect only till he arrived.
“Rudy. Take charge of getting camp set.” We had swung back into the general course of the fleet and had made landfall where others joined us in savoring the miracle of life outside Dejagore’s walls.
Hanging around in a rainstorm in the middle of the night did not seem much of an improvement to me.
“Let’s go, people. We can’t just stand here. Start putting up those shelters.” We had the tents the Nyueng Bao had carried on pilgrimage. We had blankets, wrapped inside those same tents so they would stay dry. “Somebody collect some brush and get some fires going.” Maybe easier said than done in this weather. “Bubbado. Take some men and set a perimeter. You. Joro? That your name, sergeant?” I was talking to one of the Taglian soldiers. “Get patrols out. Come on! Come on! We don’t know that there aren’t people over here who want to kill us.” But it gets hard to care when you are cold and wet and tired.
I was tired to the point of collapse but I made myself an example. Sahra followed and helped. While I barked at people we took turns caring for the baby. I had visions of some major historical asskicker like Khrombak the Terrible ordering his hordes about while he had a smelly baby tucked into the crook of his arm.
To Tan was a good kid but he always needed changing.
Soon everyone was bustling industriously. Shelters went up. Brush got cut. Small fires took life and spawned others until there were enough to heat water to cook rice. The water we gathered using some tents to collect rain into the pots. It was going to be difficult for any of us to get wetter than we were already.
We even sent several small loads of brush over to the city on returning rafts. Our friends might get to do a little cooking, too.
79
We had known so much misery for so long that night became just another sad chore. And in time there was poor shelter, bad food, and feeble warmth for all. But by then it was getting light and the rain was just an occasional sprinkle. Sahra and To Tan and I crept into our tent and bundled up. For a while I was almost happy.
That To Tan was remarkable. He was almost as quiet as Sahra most of the time, though he could get a good fuss going when he wanted. He was content to sleep right then. For the first time in a week his tummy was full.
Mine, too.
I got four hours of perfectly wonderful sleep before disaster interrupted.
First it took the shape of Ky Gota. I had not seen Sahra’s mother since Uncle Doj cajoled her out of my quarters. I had not missed her, either.
Because I was asleep I did not witness the part where she ripped open the end of the tent. When I awoke she was spitting and howling in a mix of Nyueng Bao and really bad Taglian. Sahra was sitting up already, her mouth open and tears starting.
To Tan began to cry.
Ky Gota was not immune to baby tears. The soul of a granny did lurk behind all the ill temper. Way behind. She said something to the toddler. Gently!
Rudy hurried up. “You want I should throw this one back in the lake, Murgen?” “What?”
“She crawled out of the water a while ago. Claimed somebody tried to murder her. Supposedly pushed her off the raft she was riding. Looks to me like maybe she asked for it.”
“She probably did.” Sahra looked at me in surprise. Despite her tears. “But I got to be nice. She’s almost family.” “Man,” Rudy said. He walked off shaking his head. Sahra began gesturing exasperatedly at her mother. To Tan stared at his granny, sucked his thumb. I caught a whiff. “Go to Nana,” I whispered. “Show her how good you can walk.” He did not understand me but she did and held her arms out.
Near as I could tell To Tan was the only person in the world who cared for Ky Gota. He toddled and his
