Shadow

and nothing worked below his waist; he was not a pleasant patient to tend. Was this divine punishment for a failed bodyguard? A lifetime of exile and horrible drudgery?

    'Well!' the president said. 'That's what we wanted to suggest. Who speaks for the church?' Again he looked hopefully at Karaman, but again the old man shook his head, and it was a plump, matronly lady who rose. The president sat down quickly. Even this apparent formality of having the speaker stand was observed only so that the eagles could tell which one was talking.

    Perhaps Potro was regretting his eagerness; he rubbed his fingers to ease them.

    'The church would be much against turning over a refugee!' the woman said fiercely. 'We would rather hope to have Citizen Vindax's help in overthrowing this Jarkadon and freeing all the birds in Rantorra, as we should have done eight kilodays ago! Would you agree to that, Citizen? If we can put you back on your throne, would you free the eagles?'

    'Not the throne of Allaban!' two or three said together. Potro glanced around angrily.

    She started a lecture about moral obligations, and eventually the president suggested that perhaps they should hear from Citizen Vindax.

    Vindax raised one of his hand stumps, and the eagle's eyes flashed toward him.

    'Explain that I cannot stand, please,' he said. His voice had changed tone but not timbre. It was still deep and commanding, but the arrogance had gone.

    'I did,' Potro said. 'I said your legs are broken.'

    'Then I ask the representative of the church:Canyou put me on my throne? Is your army capable of it?'

    The woman rose again, looking pink. 'We can probably persuade a lot of men to help. We would need the government to help us with money and weapons. But you would give up any claim on Allaban, wouldn't you? For yourself and your...successors?' She turned much pinker and sat down quickly; she had almost said 'heirs.'

    'Good archers?' Vindax asked.

    'They'd need practice,' she admitted weakly.

    'And the mounts?'

    The president jumped up. 'Let's hear from the eagles.'

    Potro's fingers flickered and went still. He translated. 'She says that the eagles should be free. It would be an updraft...a good thing to free all the eagles. The birds of Allaban mourn their friends who are slaves.' He signaled, probably telling her to go more slowly. 'But she says that you would kill them, not free them. The men would ride out on them to fight, and they would all die. Many eagles of Allaban would die also in the fighting. That would be a big downdraft.'

    'Does she understand about law?' the prince asked. 'How a royal command works?'

    'Gramps?' Porto said urgently.

    Karaman chuckled. 'Tell her this. The-one-with-broken-legs is the highest man in Rantorra. If he goes back, then all other men will be lower than he and must do what he signals. He could tell them to free their eagles.'

    'She wants to know why he doesn't,' Potro muttered for the benefit of the rest of the company.

    'Tell her...' Then Karaman decided to tell her himself, and flickered his fingers for a few minutes. 'I explained about the brother. It's a hard idea for them.'

    The eagle was scanning the sky, studying the discussion going on up there. Then she put her menu- inspecting glare back on Potro.

    'She says would it be like the last time? Would many-many-many eagles die?'

    'Yes,' Karaman said.

    'The High Ones say that that is a big downdraft to kill many-many-many eagles to free not-so-many eagles,' Potro announced.

    Vindax seemed to shrink inside his homespuns.

    The president stood up. 'We talked about this in the government. We can't fight, because we have no mounts. I think we need your decision, Citizen: go or abdicate as we suggested. The eagles won't help.'

    'Shadow?' Vindax muttered. The gaunt and ruined face swung around to him. The heavy brows were still there, and the dark eyes had sunk back into the skull, pits of agony and despair. 'What can I do? Advise me.'

    'Jarkadon will kill you,' Shadow said. Here was the loyalty test, then--he must make the sacrifice and the offer. 'Accept the land and stay in exile.'And I must tend that disgusting lump of flesh until eventually its life of pain comes to an end.'Perhaps one day the kingdom will tire of his excesses and send for you.'

    Vindax reached out a flipper hand to touch his arm; if there was expression on that mask of scar tissue, then it was compassion. 'I will not impose on you, my friend. If I go to Ninar Foan? The duke would not hand me over, I think.'

    That was a possibility; there would be many servants to care for the cripple, and surely the duke's conscience would be stricken by the sight of this horror his daughter had created. But it meant a once-proud prince throwing himself on the mercy of his disowned father. Where was the arrogance now?

    'We do not know that the duke is there,' Shadow said. 'He may be in Ramo; so may Elosa. And if Jarkadon has her as hostage, then the duke is a dry pond.'

    Vindax nodded miserably and looked away. 'I was just hoping,' he mumbled, 'that you might work one of those miracles of yours, think of something that no one else had. Some other way.'

    Shadow shook his head. It was easy enough to display fake brilliance when surrounded by marble-minded aristocrats like Lord Ninomar, but these Allaban farmers were deeply practical souls themselves. Unless the equation would work in reverse...

    He was a skyman, a trooper, a soldier. Was there something that he should be seeing that they might have missed? He pondered and then realized that everyone was waiting for him, watching him. Yes, perhaps there was something.

    'I cannot restore your health,' he said. 'Within the limits of the practical, though, what do youwant?'

    The deep-buried eyes flamed with a fury as fierce as that of the eagles. 'Justice!' said Vindax.

    'That's all?' Shadow asked.

    The eyes searched his. 'What else could there be?'

    Karaman was peering curiously at Shadow. So were the others. Shadow stood up, thinking of Potro's arrival at Pharmol.

    'Can the birds understand experiment?' he said. 'I would have to try something, and I'm not sure it would work.'

    'No, they can't!' the old man snapped, as though he felt responsible for this failing in his beloved eagles. 'They're nothandylike us, and their world is unchanging.' He signaled. 'I've told her you think there may be an updraft but you won't know until you go to look.'

    Shadow knew that NailBiter's beak could reach almost any part of him except his head, but there was one movement he could not recall seeing in all his years of skyman training. 'Ask her if she can put her head back like this,' he said, looking straight up at the sky. Then he looked back at the eagle and recognized the flicker. 'No, not chick signals. I'm serious.'

    'Hey, good!' the busy-fingered Potro muttered, approving of his pupil.

    The eagle bent its head back briefly in imitation and then glared down at Shadow again.

    'Now--could she fly like that for a while? Could she land, maybe even just on the flat--but could she?'

    The humans seemed just as irritated and puzzled as the bird. Potro scowled and started to signal.

    'She says it could be done. Sometimes it would cause an accident, but it could be done usually. And why are you asking?'

    'They're inquisitive devils, Shadow,' Karaman whispered. 'You've got them all twiddling up there.'

    'I have another question,' Shadow said, mentally crossing his fingers. 'Sometimes eagles will carry their kill in their talons. So they could carry rocks--if they dropped them, could they make the rocks land where they wanted them to?'

    'Holy Ark!' Karaman was staring at Shadow in stupefaction. 'Sure they could! They don't think geometry, they live it. Why did I never see that?'