“I like this knife,” Temuchin said. “I will keep it.”
“I was about to present it to you,” Jason said, bowing to hide his scowl. He should have realized that this would happen. Well, it was just a knife.
“Do your people know much of the old science?” Temuchin asked, dropping the knife for a servant to pick up and clean. Jason was instantly on his guard.
“No more or lessthan other tribes,” he said.
“None of them can make iron like this.”
“It is an old secret, passed on from father to son.”
“There could be other old secrets.” His voice was as hard and cold as the steel itself.
“Perhaps.”
“There is a lost secret then that you may have heard 0f. Some call it ‘flamepowder’ and others, ‘gunpowder.’ What do you know of this?”
Indeed, what do I know of this? Jason thought, trying to read something from the other’s fixed expression. What could a barbarian jongleur know of such things?
And if this was a trap, what should Jason tell him?
9
Meta made no protest as Jason washed the dirt from her cuts and sprayed them with dermafoam. The medikit had sewn 14 stitches into the cut on her skull, but he had done this while she was still unconscious and had covered the shaved area with a bandage. She had come to right after this, but had not moved or complained when he had put two more stitches in her split upper lip.
Grif breathed a hoarse snore from the mound of furs where Jason had placed him. The boy’s wounds were mostly superficial and the medikit had advised sedation, which suggestion Jason had complied with.
“It’s all over now,” Jason said. “You had better get some rest.”
“There were too many of them,” Meta said, “but we did the best we could. Let me have a mirror. They surprised me, going for the boy first, but it was a wise plan. He went down at once. Then they came at me and I could not talk to you any more.” She took the polished steel mirror from Jason, had one brief glance and handed it back. “I look terrible. It must have been a quick fight. I don’t remember too clearly. Some of them had clubs, the women, and they tried to hit my legs. I know I killed at least three or four, one of the women, before I went down. What happened then?”
Jason took the aehadh skin and worked the hidden valve on the mouthpiece that sealed off the fermented milk and opened the reservoir of spiced alcohol that the Pyrrans favored.
“Drink?” he asked, but she shook her head. He joined himself and had a long one. “Skipping the finer details for the moment, I managed to send some of the troopers after you. They brought back both of you, and a few rat survivors, all of whom are now dead. I killed the unwounded one myself in true Pyrran, vengeance fashion, for which I do not feel too ashamed. But I had to give my knife to Temuchin, who instantly spotted the advanced level of technology. I’m very glad now that I hand, forged it and that the tool marks can still be seen. Bight away he asked me if we Pyrrans knew anything about gunpowder, which rocked me. I played it slippery, told him I knew nothing, just the name, but perhaps others in the tribe knew more. He bought that for the time being, I think. You just can’t tell with that guy. But he wants us to move in. At dawn we have to truck our camach into the camp next to his, and say good-bye to Shanin and his rats, whom we shall not miss. And in case we should change our minds, there is a squad of Temuchin’s boys waiting outside. I still haven’t decided whether we are prisoners or not.”
“I know I look terrible this way,” she said, her head nodding.
“You’ll always look good to me,” Jason told her cheeringly, then realized that he meant it. He twisted the medikit to full sedation and pressed it to her arm. She did not protest. With more than a small amount of guilt, and the feeling that he alone was responsible for their danger and pain, Jason laid her down on the furs next to the boy and covered them both. What bit of insane stupidity was it that had permitted him to involve a woman and a child in this murderous business? Then he remembered that conditions here were still far better than they were on Pyrrus, and he had probably saved their lives by getting them away. He looked at their bruises and shuddered, and wondered if they would thank him for it.
In the morning the two wounded Pyrrans had just enough strength to stumble out of the camach so that Jason could supervise its clismanding by the soldiers. They grumbled about woman’s work, but Jason would allow none of Shanin’s tribespeople near any of his belongings. After all the recent deaths, he was sure that his feud had widened its boundaries until it took in a good portion of the tribe: It was only after Jason had lubricated their spirits with a large skin of high-proof achadh that the soldiers buckled down to finish the job and to load the escung. Jason strapped Meta and Crlf in under the furs, in much the same way that he had been carried after his capture, and the small caravan set out, hurried on its way by many dark looks.
In Temuchin’s own camp, there were enough females who could be drafted for the degrading labor so that the men could stand and watch, which was their normal contribution. Jason could not stay to supervise. He left this to Meta, because a message arrived demanding his instant appearance before Temuchin.
The two guards at the entrance to the warlord’s cainach stood aside when Jason approached. At least he had some prestige among the enlisted men. Temuchin was alone, holding Jason’s knife, which was drenched with blood. Jason stopped, then relaxed when Temuchin seized the point and, with a quick snap of his wrist, sent it whistling through the air to sink deep into the carcass of a goat that he was using for a target.
“This knife has good balance,” Temuchin said. “Throws well.”
Jason nodded silently for he knew that he had not been summoned to an audience just to hear that.
“Tell me all you know about gunpowder,” Temuchin said, bending over to retrieve the knife.
“There is very little to tell.”
Temuchin straightened and his eyes caught Jason’s as he tapped the hilt of the knife against the calloused palm of his hand. “Tell me everything you know. Instantly. If you had gunpowder, could you make it blow up with the big noise instead of burning with smoke?”
This was the clinch. If Temuchin thought that he were lying, that big knife would sink into his gut as easily as it went into the goat’s. The warlord had some very specific ideas about the physical nature of gunpowder, so he was not bluffing. Time to take a chance.
“Though I have never seen gunpowder, I know what is said about it. I have heard how to make it explode.”
“I thought you might.” The knife thunked as it sank deep into the goat’s flesh. “I think you know other things that you are not telling me.”
“Men have secrets that they swear never to reveal. But Temuchin is my master and I will help him in every way that I can.”
“Good. Don’t forget that. Now tell me what you know about the people in the lowlands.”
“Why, nothing,” Jason said, astonished, The question had come as a complete surprise.
“You and everyone else. That is changing now. I know some things about the lowlanders and I am going to learn more. I am going to raid the lowlands and you are coming with me. I can use some of this gunpowder. Prepare yourself. We leave at midday. You are the only one who knows it is not a simple hunting expedition, so talk of the matter only at the risk of your life.”
“I would rather die than speak a word of this to anyone.”
Jason returned to his camach, deep in thought, and instantly told Meta everything he had just learned.
“This sounds very strange,” she said, hobbling to the fire, her muscles stiff from the beating she had undergone. “I am hungry and cannot make this fire bum.”
Jason fanned the fire, and coughed and averted his head when he caught a lungful of pungent smoke. “I don’t think you are using firstrate Inorope chips here. They have to be well dried to burn evenly. It sounded strange to me, too. How can he get down a vertical cliff over ten kilometers high? Yet he knows about gunpowder, and he certainly never found out about that here on the plateau.” He coughed again then kicked sand over the fire. “Enough of that. You and Grif need something more nutritious than goat stew in any case. I’ll crack out a couple of meal packs.”
