Red—It was a common enough color—he had caught sight of at least two feminine robes, a short jacket—even a head covering of that shade during the past few minutes. But those had been passing. Since he had settled here, surely his tracker would be more or less anchored nearby.
Red—and he could not look for it obviously. The Jat pawed at his arm—wanting another fruit? Perhaps, but Jofre's senses were alert, perhaps something more. He turned his head a fraction that he might look more closely at his small companion and saw one of those ears twitch as if an insect had dared to alight there. Red—
At that far table. And it was a red, unusual enough to rivet the attention all right, yet he dared not risk a direct glance.
Instead he turned the glass which held the dregs of the drink and went to fishing for another fruit bit. The shiny material of that container was opaque—reflective— he had a smeary sort of mirror which he could watch with impunity.
The man at the other table was humanoid in proportions and stance as far as Jofre could judge. But the general whole of his appearance was alien indeed. Instead of the usual clothing, which here planetside followed a pattern mostly akin to travel suits, this diner (for the stranger was consuming with very apparent gusto small, frantically wriggling creatures it plucked up from a platter before it) had limited wearing apparel to a kiltlike garment reaching to the knee and below that boots which were so tightly modeled to the legs and feet one could see the play of muscles through the substance of their making. The area of displayed skin was a dull black but the head, shoulders and a wedge descending the back in the form of a manelike growth were covered by long thickish bristles of a deep crimson.
That such an easily noted being could have been selected as a 'shadow' amazed Jofre now that his attention had been directed to him. The features were decidedly human in character and there were ruffles of the bristle growth over each eye. As far as Jofre could judge the other was paying no attention to either him or the Jat. Yet Jofre trusted Yan that this was someone to be watched.
If he had even Taynad here to back him, he would have departed with the attitude of one about some business and so make sure that the maned one did leave his meal to follow. But Taynad was not here and he wondered how long it would be before she did arrive. The Fragrance place was six shops farther along the avenue and it seemed to him that she had been there a very long time.
The maned man finished his plate of wrigglers, patted his middle and gave a belch. No matter what race or species he might be his public manners left much to be desired.
Jofre fished the last fruit out of his glass and presented it to Yan, leaving that drinking vessel placed so he still had a distorted glimpse of the other diner. But Yan suddenly gave a cry of pleasure, both of his ears swung forward and he wriggled off the chair to run to meet Taynad.
Fragrance indeed! Jofre picked up a mingling of scents as she came along, moving with that languorous glide that he had not seen her use since they had left the great hall on Tssek. She had slipped well back into her Jewelbright armor again.
'It was a pleasure?' he asked, rising to greet her as she arrived, the Jat holding to one of her hands.
'It was spring—' she said, and sighed. 'Truly there is much to be learned when one travels. So you missed me, little one?' She smiled down at Yan. 'Did not this tall warrior treat you well?'
'We should be getting back.' Jofre had taken a step or two closer to her, presenting his back to the maned one and making a quick signal to alert her.
'Time flees when one is at ease,' she answered. 'Yes, perhaps it is well to return. Zurzal may at last have news for us.'
She had made no sign that she had understood his signal but Jofre was sure she had. Now, for quicker passage through the crowd that was thickening on the street as the afternoon advanced, he swung the Jat up to his shoulders and felt the paw hands take a good grip on his turban. Though he had not gone back to the full head covering of the Lairs he had once-more assumed a style which made him feel more comfortable.
Taynad let him get a stride or so ahead, stopped as if to adjust a boot buckle, then she light-footedly joined them.
Her forefinger moved. The maned one was following. But for now they had no reason to try and evade him since they were only returning to their temporary quarters.
'This place is stifling,' she broke out suddenly. 'I find myself thinking with a strong desire of the slopes of Three Claws, or even the Grey Wastes. How can one live ever in such a turmoil?'
Jofre was surprised. He himself had been suffering from the feeling of one entrapped in some lord's vor stockyard with the herd turned in to share it with him. There was always something new to be seen, that he would agree, but one tires of constant change and variety. Also of this enforced idleness. Though issha discipline taught patience and he had thought that he had learned all the Lair lessons well. But perhaps what she had said gave him a chance to discover answers for a question or two which had been plaguing him.
'If there comes word from Asborgan—you are not oathed—'
'No.' Her answer was almost harshly abrupt. 'But my mission was meant to be one of some length when I left Su-ven-ugen. They will not think of me as being free now and the message which the Patrol promised to deliver will take some time to reach the First Sister. Perhaps because I am without funds, since those of Tssek saw fit to confiscate what I had, I am in debt to the Learned One and it may well be that in the end the Elders will decide that I must work out what is owed. Anyway, oathed or not, I have promised the Zacathan that I will return service for service as long as he needs me.'
'It will be a different kind of service than that you trained for—' Jofre was partly convinced that she meant exactly what she had just said.
'It is well to have more than one kind of experience,' she remarked. 'Do you think that the Learned One will succeed in what he wishes? I know that his scanner showed the past on Tssek, but what of Lochan? It seems to me to be as much of a gamble as when one tosses kust stones for wager.'
The Zacathan was not in the suite when they entered and Jofre made his meticulous search through the rooms and across their section of the balcony terrace as he always did, the Jat trotting behind him as if it too could sniff out any hidden danger. Was the red-maned one lounging in the lobby below? And what did whoever set him on their trail want? Was it a ploy of the Guild? That was a point to be very well considered. From all he had ever heard Jofre rated the Guild very, very high as a potential enemy.
