The silence broke. Thyle Vowe was all affability once more. ‘Ever met Don Furz?’
‘No, sir. I haven’t had that pleasure.’
‘Well, why don’t we find out where you can maybe find Don Furz. Gereny, would you mind?’
The roughly clad, gray-haired woman gave him a quizzical look and went to the wallcom. After a few muttered phrases, she returned, a puzzled, half angry expression on her face.
‘Don’s been sent on a short trip up to the Redfang Range and is expected to return tonight. Something about an alternate route?’ She exchanged a quick look with both Vowe and Middleton.
Thyle Vowe seemed very thoughtful at this, turning to rummage among the papers on the nearby table. Tell you what, Tasmin. The Redfang’s only a few hours from here. Why don’t you and your young friends ride up that way and meet Don? I’ll give you a map so you won’t go astray.’ He rummaged a moment more, than handed Tasmin a small chart, pointing at it with a plump, impeccably manicured finger. Take the road back of the citadel, ride straight east for about half a mile, then take this turning north. Stay on that road, and it’ll deliver you right at the foot of the Redfang canyon by the time it gets dark, if you don’t run into Don on the road. Better get a quick start.’ He was moving them toward the door.
Jem Middleton interrupted. ‘Just a minute, Ferrence. I wouldn’t want you to run into any trouble up that way you couldn’t handle. Rarest thing on Jubal, next to red meat, is crystal bears, but darned if I didn’t get word there’s been a crystal bear sighted up toward Redfang. You’d better take a stun rifle along, just in case.’ And he was on his feet, pulling a rifle out of a tall cupboard and thrusting it into Tasmin’s hands. ‘You can return it whenever you get back.’ Then they were in the corridor once more with the door shut firmly behind them.
‘What does he think he’s playing at?’ Jamieson demanded, outraged. ‘Crystal bears! Nobody’s seen a crystal bear for fifty years.’
‘Shhhh,’ Clarin demanded. ‘Something’s going on here, Reb. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. Do you trust the Grand Master, Master Ferrence?’
Tasmin gave her a grateful look of concurrence. Something was indeed going on here. ‘Trusting the Grand Master would be my inclination,’ Tasmin replied, a little tentatively. The four people in the room behind them might have been playing welter, but those open, paper-stuffed cases argued they had been doing something else. As did the fact that some of the face-down hands had had four cards while others had had six. As for the rifle, Tasmin had only fired a stun rifle during the annual proficiency shoots. Rifles were not even routinely supplied to caravans any longer, though they had been standard issue some twenty years ago. The story about crystal bears was nonsense. No one had seen a crystal bear for decades. There was some question as to whether anyone had ever seen a crystal bear or whether they were entirely mythical, and everyone in that room knew it. Unless – one were to substitute Crystallite for crystal bear. In which case they had been telling him something without telling him anything….
‘Yes,’ he said in a grim decision. ‘I trust him.’
‘Well, then let’s trust him. Let’s do what he suggested.’ Clarin looked at the rifle with dismay. ‘We don’t want to walk around carrying that.’
‘Put it under your robe, Clarin. Yours is stiffer than mine. You can wait at the gate while Jamieson and I bring the mules.’ Tasmin shook his head at himself as he hurried away across the compound, turning back to see Clarin lounging casually against one wall, the rifle tucked behind her.
The mules were eager to travel after their half day in the trailer. When they had ridden far enough from the city that the rifle would not occasion comment, Tasmin fastened it to the rings of his saddle, trying twice before he got it right. Lord, no one except the military used rifles anymore.
‘Crystal bears,’ mumbled Jamieson, still seething. ‘Who does he think you are, Master? Everts of the Dawn Patrol?’ This was a favorite holodrama of Jubal’s children. ‘When was the last time anyone saw a crystal bear?’
‘There’s some doubt anyone ever did, actually,’ said Tasmin drily. ‘Fairy tale stuff. Early explorers claimed to find a lot of things back in crystal country. Crystal bears were just one of the menagerie. Some of the earliest explorers said viggies could talk and mice could sing.’
‘Well, they can,’ Clarin objected, patting her pocket. A muffled chirp followed the pat. ‘At least sort of. Why would Jem Middleton have had a rifle right there in his office?’ Clarin asked.
‘Exactly,’ Tasmin replied. ‘Why?’
They rode through ascending lands, scattered fields of human crops giving way to Jubal country, the ramparts of the Redfang rising before them as the sun sank behind their left shoulders and the road grew narrower and dimmer. After the last of the farms they passed no one.
‘No Don Furz,’ said Jamieson, giving voice to the obvious.
‘Do you get the idea that maybe the Grand Master and the others were afraid of that?’ Clarin asked.
‘The road tops a ridge just ahead,’ Tasmin answered, his voice carefully unemotional. ‘We’ll probably get a look down into Redfang canyon from there.’
From the ridge top, the road dropped into a basin surrounded on three sides by mixed stony outcroppings and the ’lings and ’lets of the Redfang, then curved to the right around a flat-topped pillar of stone.
There was someone on the pillar!
A gray clad figure scurried back and forth, toppling stones down the precipitous sides. Even from this distance they could hear the grunts of effort, the shattering rattle of stone on stone.
At the foot of the pillar, half a dozen shadowy figures were attempting to scale the rocky walls. The intent of the attackers was clear, and there was desperation in
