Chapter 5: Low Lands

The heat grew more oppressive as the caravan rumbled on southward. Shantar often longed for the cool hills, where a man needed a blanket at night even during the hottest part of the year. Princess Ashaia continued to sleep in the wagon at night, helping Gortai with the gronches during the day. The stain on her hands and face was gradually replaced with honest suntan.

"You don't need any more of my dye," Shantar observed one evening, looking her over critically. "You'll be a long time regaining your fashionable pallor."

"If I do it, it's fashionable," she replied, gaily. "All of the court ladies will be brown as berries by the time I've been back a ten day."

"If you get back." He wasn't smiling now. "Just what are you doing out here, and who's after you? Not that I want to get mixed up in any of your court intrigues, but I need to know what kind of dangers to guard you against."

Instantly sober in one of the flashing changes of mood that he was beginning to expect from her, she thought for a moment before answering.

"My brother trusts me. Trusts my judgment as much as he does anyone's. He sent me to Weilin," she mentioned a small city that lay some two thirds of the way up the coast from Talai to Sian. "There were rumors that the local priests were conspiring with Orzad, the chief of all the hill tribes, to revolt against their King."

"And just what did you find out? Other than the fact that Orzad isn't the chief of all the hill tribes."

"Of course he is! What do you mean?"

"Just that while he may have a great deal of influence in the High Hills, each village chief is his own boss. No one man is chief of all the villages."

"Well, anyway, I didn't find any sign that Orzad and the priests were conspiring," she continued. "But I did find proof that the priests are trying to stir the northern cities to revolt. The only trouble was that the priests were suspicious of me. Two of my servants died rather horribly, of poison that was meant for me, and soon after that the High Priest of Weilin called me to worship at their Temple of Kathool. I knew that if I went I'd never be seen again, so I decided to make a run for it. One of my women took my place, with orders to stall as long as she could, and I slipped out of the city in the night. Bort, an old soldier who had guarded me since I was a child, went with me. It was his idea to wear the green robes of priests. We made it to where you found me, and then we met the tiger lizard." She shuddered at the still fresh memory.

Then, maybe those priests weren't just looking for me back at that temple," Shantar exclaimed softly. "I thought that they were making an awful of fuss about one poor heretic."

"So, where does that leave us?" Ashaia asked.

"In a heap of trouble," Gortai put in. Tomorrow night or the next day, we reach OtlaVillage, our last trading stop before Talai. There's a large temple there, and I don't see how we can hope to get by them without getting caught. Balik has to take the caravan there. Avoiding the place would only call the priests' attention to him."

"What if we meet a troop of my brother's soldiers?" Ashaia ventured. "We could call on them for protection."

"It might work," Shantar grunted, pessimistically. "But only if it was a good sized force whose commander was known to you personally. A small force wouldn't be strong enough to do us any good, and I wouldn't like to bet on how they might act if they didn't believe your claim to be Princess Ashaia."

"They would treat me with courtesy, at least!"

"Maybe," Gortai grunted. "But I'd bet the other way if it was my money. Or my daughter."

"All right, then. What should we do?" She dropped the argument in favor of more practical considerations.

"The first thing we've got to do is leave the caravan," Shantar decided. "They can make it just fine without us, now that we've passed the real bandit country. If we stay with the caravan, our chances are just about nil, and if they caught us here they'd grab the whole caravan, arrest everyone. The two of us can make good time by traveling light, and staying away from villages."

"What do you mean, the two of you?" Gortai bristled. "I'm going along. Three's a lot stronger party than two."

"But your wagon," Shantar objected. "And what about your pay?"

"Ain't my wagon. I'm just hired to drive it. My pay, I can live without. You're giving up your pay, too."

"Don't worry about money," Ashaia put in. "If we make it, there'll be enough reward for everyone... Hush! Someone's coming!"

Shantar sprang to his feet, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"It's me, Ch'Wing." The stocky scout strode up to their fire. "Did you know that Snurl's been listening to everything you said? I've been keeping my eyes open, figuring that whatever you're up to, you might need a little help."

"Where is he?" Shantar's voice was a growl of ferocity barely held in check.

"He sneaked off over that way." Ch'Wing pointed to a low hill, not far from their camp. "Took something out of his wagon, and went off with it under his jacket.

Shantar hurried through the deepening twilight, easily avoiding the sentries. Ch'Wing, Ashaia and Gortai trailed along behind. He found a faint game trail leading off toward the hill, and took a chance on following it. He caught up with his quarry at the top of the hill, finding the wagon master bent intently over a small cage woven from strips of reed.

"What have you there, friend Snurl?"

Snurl jerked erect, whirling to face Shantar. In the dusk, his ugly face was a mask of fury. "What are you doing here? Get back with the wagons where you belong!"

"Softly, friend Snurl. I think that what you do here concerns me and my friends. Now, let me see that box!"

"It concerns you, dog of a heretic! You, and your Royal Slut!" The box fell open at his touch, and something gray fluttered out. It circled the two men, then started off to the south. Shantar pulled his knife from its scabbard, throwing it with a smooth continuation of the motion, and the thing crumpled and fell.

"Aieeh!" With a scream of animal fury, Snurl drew his sword and flung himself forward. There was no science to this battle in the twilight, only cut and slash, and try to ward off half seen blows. It was over in seconds. Snurl's sword spun away as Shantar's heavier sword sheared through his arm and bit deep into his body. Snurl pitched forward onto his face. Shantar rolled him over onto his back, but he was already dead.

"Did you get him?" Ch'Wing asked calmly, as though twilight duels were an everyday part of his life.

"He's dead, and I think that I may have kept him from sending out a message." He walked over to where he thought that the target of his knife had fallen, peering down at the brushy ground. "Ah, here it is. It was a lucky throw."

"Why, it's a bat!" Ashaia exclaimed.

"Just like the ones you always see around temple towers," Shantar agreed. "Only, this one has a note tied to its leg. I'll bet anything you like that this is the way the priests send messages back and forth so fast. 'The Gods tell us, ' indeed!"

"Let me see the message." Ashaia peered at the rows of cryptic markings on the tiny slip of parchment.

"You can read it?" Shantar was amazed.

"I was taught to read as a child. Let me see if I can make it out." She studied the parchment carefully in the gloom, puzzling at it until Gortai struck a spark to a bit of tinder for her to see by. "Thanks. 'To Sholim, High Priest of the Temple of Talai. In the name of the Great God Kathool, whom we both serve. I, Snurl, second ranking priest of the Temple of Sian, send greetings. Princess Ashaia is hiding in the caravan of Trader Balik. She is in the company of the condemned heretic, Shantar of High Village. When the Princess is taken, see that both Balik and Shantar are sent to serve Kathool. The caravan will be in OtlaVillage on the fourth of this ten day. May the Great God Kathool remain long asleep in his home under the sea." That's all that it says."

"It's enough. This changes our plans, somewhat," Shantar mused. "Ch'Wing, see if you can get Balik out here without being seen. He needs to know about this, but it would be better if nobody else did."

Ch'Wing slipped away into the gathering darkness, picking his way by the light of the Lesser Moon that was dropping toward the horizon in its swift passage even as they watched. The Great Moon would not show its face until almost the end of the first watch of the night, so by the time they heard footsteps approaching it was completely dark. They could see brief flashes of light from a hooded lantern, but three figures loomed up where there should have only been two!