7
Witches' Meat
He might be recklessly endangering all of them, Ross knew. But if Ashewas immured somewhere in that rock pile over their heads, then the riskof trusting Loketh would be worth it. However, because Ross was chancinghis own neck did not mean that Karara need be drawn into immediate periltoo. With the dolphins at her command and the supplies, scanty as thosewere, she would have a good chance to hide here safely.
"Holding out for what?" she asked quietly after Ross elaborated on thissubject, thus bringing him to silence.
Because her question was just. With the gate gone the Terrans werecommitted to this time, just as they had earlier been committed toHawaika when on their home world they had entered the spaceship for thetake-off. There was no escape from the past, which had become theirpresent.
"The Foanna," she continued, "these Wreckers, the sea people--all atodds with one another. Do we join any, then their quarrels must alsobecome ours."
Taua nosed the ledge behind the girl, squeaked a demand for attention.Karara looked around at Loketh; her look was as searching as the one thenative had earlier turned on her and Ross.
"He"--the girl nodded at the Hawaikan--"wishes to know if you trust him.And he says to tell you this: Because the Shades chose to inflict uponhim a twisted leg he is not one with those of the castle, but to them abroken, useless thing. Ross, I gather he thinks we have powers like theFoanna, and that we may be supernatural. But because we did not kill himout of hand and have fed him, he considers himself bound to us."
"Ritual of bread and salt ... could be." Though it might be folly tomatch alien customs to Terran, Ross thought of that very ancient pact onhis own world. Eat a man's food, become his friend, or at least declarea truce between you. Stiff taboos and codes of behavior marked nationson Terra, especially warrior societies, and the same might be true here.
"Ask him," Ross told Karara, "what is the rule for food and drinkbetween friends or enemies!" The more he could learn of such customs thebetter protection he might be able to weave for them.
Long moments for the relay of that message, and then Loketh spoke intothe micro-disk of the analyzer, slowly, with pauses, as if trying tomake sure Ross understood every word.
"To give bread into the hands of one you have taken in battle, makes himyour man--not as a slave to labor, but as one who draws sword at yourbidding. When I took your bread I accepted you as cup-lord. Between suchthere is no betrayal, for how may a man betray his lord? I, Loketh, amnow a sword in your hands, a man in your service. And to me this isdoubly good, for as a useless one I have never had a lord, nor one toswear to. Also, with this Sea Maid and her followers to listen tothoughts, how could any man speak with a double tongue were he one whoconsorted with the Shadow and wore the Cloak of Evil?"
"He's right," Karara added. "His mind is open; he couldn't hide histhoughts from Taua and Tino-rau even if he wished."
"All right, I'll accept that." Ross glanced about the ledge. They hadpiled the containers at the far end. For Karara to move might be safe.He said so.
"Move where?" she asked flatly. "Those men from the castle are stillhunting drift out there. I don't think anyone knows of this cave."
Ross nodded to Loketh. "He did, didn't he? I wouldn't want you trappedhere. And I don't want to lose those supplies. What is in thosecontainers may be what saves us all."
"We can sink those over by the wall, weight them down in a net. Then, ifwe have to move, they will be ready. Do not worry--that is mydepartment." She smiled at him with a slightly mocking lift of lips.
Ross subsided, though he was irritated because she was right. Themanagement of the dolphin team and sea matters were her department. Andwhile he resented her reminder of that point he could not deny thejustice of her retort.
In spite of his crippled leg, Loketh displayed an agility whichsurprised Ross. Freed from his ankle bonds, he beckoned the Terran backto the very niche where he had hidden to watch Karara. Up he swung intothat and in a second had vanished from sight.
Ross followed, to discover it was not a niche after all but the openingof a crevice, leading upward as a vent. And it had been used before as apassage. There was no light, but the native guided Ross's hands to thehollow climbing holds cut into the stone. Then Loketh pushed past andwent up the crude ladder into the dark.
It was difficult to judge either time or distance in this black tube.Ross counted the holds for some check. His agent training made one partof his mind sharply aware of such things; the need for memorizing apassage which led into the enemy's territory was apparent. What thepurpose of this slit had originally been he did not know, butstrongholds on Terra had had their hidden ways in and out for use intimes of siege, and he was beginning to believe that these aliens hadmuch in common with his own kind.
He had reached twenty in his counting and his senses, alerted bytraining and instinct, told him there was an opening not too far above.But the darkness remained so thick it fell in tangible folds about hissweating body. Ross almost cried out as fingers clamped about his wristwhen he reached for a new hold. Then urged by that grasp, he was up andout, sprawling into a vertical passage. Far ahead was a gray of faintlight.
Ross choked and then sneezed as dust puffed up from between hisscrabbling hands. The hold which had been on his wrist shifted to hisshoulder, and with a surprising strength Loketh hauled the Terran to hisfeet.
The passage in which they stood was a slit extending in height wellabove their heads, but narrow, not much wider than Ross's shoulders.Whether it was a natural fault or had been cut he could not tell.
Loketh was ahead again, his rocking limp making the outline of his bodya jerky up-and-down shadow. Again his speed and agility amazed theTerran. Loketh might be lame, but he had learned to adapt to hishandicap very well.
The light increased and Ross marked slits in the walls to his right, nowider than the breadth of his two fingers. He peered out of one and waslooking into empty air while below he heard the murmur of the sea. Thisway must run in the cliff face above the beach.
A click of impatient whisper drew him on to join Loketh. Here was aflight of stairs, narrow of tread and very steep. Loketh turned back andside against these to climb, his outspread hand flattened on the stoneas if it possessed adhesive qualities to steady him. For the first timehis twisted leg was a disadvantage.
Ross counted again--ten, fifteen of those steps, bringing them once moreinto darkness. Then they emerged from a well-like opening into acircular room. A sudden and dazzling flare of light made the Terranshade his eyes. Loketh set a pallid but glowing cone on a wall shelf,and the Terran discovered that the burst of light was only relative tothe dark of the passage; indeed it was very weak illumination.
The Hawaikan braced his body against the far wall. The strain of hiseffort, whatever its purpose, was easy to read in the contorted line ofhis shoulders. Then the wall slid under Loketh's urging, a slow move asif the weight of the slab he strove to handle was almost too great forhis slender arms, or else the need for caution was intensified here.
They now fronted a narrow opening, and the light of the cone shone onlya few feet into the space. Loketh beckoned to Ross and they went on.Here the left wall was cut in many places emitting patches of light in away which bore no resemblance to conventional windows. It was likewalking behind a pierced screen which followed no logical pattern in thecutaway portions. Ross gazed out and gasped.
He was standing above the center core of the castle, and the life belowand beyond drew his attention. He had seen drawings reproducing the lifeof a feudal castle. This resembled them and yet, as Ross studied thescene closer, the differences between the Terran past and this becamemore distinct.
In the first place there were those animals--or were theyanimals?--being hooked up to a cart. They had six limbs, walking onfour, holding the remaining two folded under their necks. Their harnessconsisted of a network fitted over their shoulders, anchored to thefolded limbs. Their grotesque heads, bobbing and weaving on lengthyne
cks, their bodies, were sleekly scaled. Ross was startled by aresemblance he traced to the sea dragon he had met in the future of thisworld.
But the creatures were subject to the men harnessing them. And theactivity in other respects ... Ross had to fight a wayward andfascinated interest in all he could see, force himself to concentrate onlearning what might be pertinent to his own mission. But Loketh did notallow him to watch for long. Instead, his hand on the Terran's arm urgedthe other down the gallery behind the screen and once more into the bulkof the fortress.
Another narrow way ran through the thickness of the walls. Then a patchof light, not that of outer day, but a reddish gleam from an openingwaist high. There Loketh went awkwardly to his good knee, motioning Rossto follow his example.
What lay below was a hall furnished with a barbaric rawness of color andglitter. There were long strips of brightly hued woven stuff on thewalls, touched here and there with sparkling glints which werejewel-like. And set at intervals among the hangings were oval objectsperhaps Ross's height on which were designs and patterns picked out inpaint and metal. Maybe the stylized representation of native plants andanimals.
The whole gave an impression of clashing color, just as the garments ofthose gathered there were garish in turn.
There were three Hawaikans on the two-step dais. All wore robes fittingtightly to the upper portion of their bodies, girded to their waistswith elaborate belts, then falling in long points to floor level, thepoints being finished off with tassels. Their heads were covered withtight caps which were a latticework of decorated strips, glittering asthey moved. And the mixture of colors in their apparel was such as tooffend Terran eyes with their harsh clash of shade against shade.
Drawn up below the dais were two rows of guards. But the reason for theassembly baffled Ross, since he could not understand the clickingspeech.
There came a hollow echoing sound as from a gong. The three on the daisstraightened, turned their attention to the other end of the hall. Rossdid not need Loketh's gesture to know that something of importance wasabout to begin.
Down the hall was a somber note in the splash of clashing color. TheTerran recognized the gray-blue robe of the Foanna. There were three ofthe robed ones this time, one slightly in advance of the other two. Theycame at a gliding pace as if they swept along above that paved flooring,not by planting feet upon it. As they halted below the dais the menthere rose.
Ross could read their reluctance to make that concession in the slownessof their movements. They were plainly being compelled to renderdeference when they longed to refuse it. Then the middle one of thecastle lords spoke first.
"Zahur--" Loketh breathed in Ross's ear, his pointed finger indicatingthe speaker.
Ross longed vainly for the ability to ask questions, a chance to knowwhat was in progress. That the meeting of the two Hawaikan factions wasimportant he did not doubt.
There was an interval of silence after the castle lord finishedspeaking. To the Terran this spun on and on and he sensed the mountingtension. This must be a showdown, perhaps even a declaration of openhostilities between Wreckers and the older race. Or perhaps the pausewas a subtle weapon of the Foanna, used to throw a less-sophisticatedenemy off balance, as a judo fighter might use an opponent's attack aspart of his own defense.
When the Foanna did make answer it came in the singsong of chantedwords. Ross felt Loketh shiver, felt the crawl of chill along his ownspine. The words--if those were words and not just sounds intended toplay upon the mind and emotions of a listener--cut into one. Ross wantedto close his ears, thrust his fingers into them to drown out that sound,yet he did not have the power to raise his hands.
It seemed to him that the men on the dais were swaying now as if thechant were a rope leashed about them, pulling them back and forth. Therewas a clatter; one of the guards had fallen to the floor and lay there,rolling, his hands to his head.
A shout from the dais. The chanting reached a note so high that Rossfelt the torment in his ears. Below, the lines of guards had broken. Aparty of them were heading for the end of the hall, making a wide detouraround the Foanna. Loketh gave a small choked cry; his fingers tightenedon Ross's forearm with painful intensity as he whispered.
What was about to happen meant something important. To Loketh or to him?Ashe! Was this concerned with Ashe? Ross crowded against the opening,tried to see the direction in which the guards had disappeared.
The wait made him doubly impatient. One of the men on the dais haddropped on the bench there, his head forward on his hands, his shouldersquivering. But the one Loketh had identified as Zahur still fronted theFoanna spokesman, and Ross gave tribute to the strength of will whichkept him there.
They were returning, the guards, and herded between their lines threemen. Two were Hawaikans, their bare dark bodies easily identifiable. Butthe third--Ashe! Ross almost shouted his name aloud.
The Terran stumbled along and there was a bandage above his knee. He hadbeen stripped to his swimming trunks, all his equipment taken from him.There was a dark bruise on his left temple, the angry weal of a lashmark on neck and shoulder.
Ross's hands clenched. Never in his life had he so desperately wanted aweapon as he did at that moment. To spray the company below with amachine gun would have given him great satisfaction. But he had nothingbut the knife in his belt and he was as cut off from Ashe as if theywere in separate cells of some prison.
The caution which had been one of his inborn gifts and which had beenfostered by his training, clamped down on his first wild desire foraction. There was not the slightest chance of his doing Ashe any good atthe present. But he had this much--he knew that Gordon was alive andthat he was in the aliens' hands. Faced by those facts Ross could planhis own moves.
The Foanna chant began again, and the three prisoners moved; the twoHawaikans turned, set themselves on either side of Ashe, and gave himsupport. Their actions had a mechanical quality as if they were directedby a will beyond their own. Ashe gazed about him at the Wreckers and therobed figures. His awareness of them both suggested to Ross that if thenatives had come under the control of the Foanna, the Terran resistedtheir influence. But Ashe did not try to escape the assistance of histwo fellow prisoners, and he limped with their aid back down the hall,following the Foanna.
Ross deduced that the captives had been transferred from the lord of thecastle to the Foanna. Which meant Ashe was on his way to anotherdestination. The Terran was on his feet and headed back, intent onreturning to the sea cave and starting out after Ashe as soon as hecould.
"You have found Gordon!" Karara read his news from his face.
"The Wreckers had him prisoner. Now they've turned him over to theFoanna--"
"What will _they_ do with him?" the girl demanded of Loketh.
His answer came roundabout as usual as the native squatted by theanalyzer and clicked his answer into it.
"They have claimed the wreck survivors for tribute. Your companion willbe witches' meat."
"Witches' meat?" repeated Ross, uncomprehending.
Then Karara drew a gagged breath which was a gasp of horror.
"Sacrifice! Ross, he must mean they are going to use Gordon for asacrifice."
Ross stiffened and then whirled to catch Loketh by the shoulders. Theinability to question the native directly was an added disaster now.
"Where are they taking him? Where?" He began that fiercely, and thenforced control on himself.
Karara's eyes were half closed, her head back; she was manifestly aimingthat inquiry at the dolphins, to be translated to Loketh.
Symbols burned on the analyzer screen.
"The Foanna have their own fortress. It can be entered best by sea.There is a boat ... I can show you, for it is my own secret."
"Tell him--yes, as soon as we can!" Ross broke out. The old feeling thattime was all-important worried at him. Witches' meat ... witches' meat... the words were sharp as a lash.