CHAPTER 7
Ross whirled the rope which had been meant to bring him down around Lal.He lashed the tribesman's arms tight to his body before he knelt to cutloose his fellow time traveler. Lal now huddled against the far wall ofthe cup, fear in every line of his small body. So apparent was this fearthat Ross felt no satisfaction at turning the tables on him. Instead hefelt increasingly uneasy.
"What is this all about?" he asked McNeil as he stripped off his bondsand helped him up.
McNeil massaged his wrists, took a step or two, and grimaced with pain."Our friend seeks to be an obedient servant of Lurgha."
Ross picked up his bow. "The tribe is out to hunt us?"
"Lurgha has ordered--out of thin air again--that any traders who escapedare to be brought in and introduced to him personally at the sacrificefor the enrichment of the fields!"
The old, old gift of blood and life at the spring sowing. Ross recalledgrisly details from his cram lessons. Any wandering stranger or enemytribesman taken in a raid before that day would meet such a fate. Onunlucky years when people were not available a deer or wolf might serve.But the best sacrifice of all was a man. So Lurgha had decreed--from theair--that traders were his meat? What of Ashe? Let any hunter from thevillage track him down.
"We have to move fast," Ross told McNeil as he took up the rope whichmade a leading cord for Lal. Ashe would want to question the tribesmanabout this second order from Lurgha.
Impatient as Ross was, he had to mend his pace to accommodate McNeil.The man from the hill post was close to the end of his strength. He hadstarted off bravely enough, but now he wavered. Ross sent Lal ahead witha sharp push, ordering him to stay there, while he went to McNeil's aid.It was well into the afternoon before they came up the stream and sawthe fire before the cave.
"Macna!" Ashe hailed Ross's companion with the native version of hisname. "And Lal. But what do you here, Lal of Nodren's town?"
"Mischief." Ross helped McNeil within the cave and to the pile of brushwhich was his own bed. "He was hunting traders as a present for Lurgha."
"So--" Ashe turned upon the tribesman--"and by whose word did you gohunting my kinsman, Lal? Was it Nodren's? Has he forgotten the bloodbond between us? For it was in the name of Lurgha himself that that bondwas made----"
"Aaaah--" The tribesman squatted down against the wall where Ross hadshoved him. Unable to hide his head in his arms, he brought his facedown upon his knees so that only his shaggy topknot of hair was exposed.Ross realized, with stupefaction, that the little man was crying like achild, his hunched shoulders rising and falling with the force of hissobs. "Aaaah--" he wailed.
Ashe allowed him a moment or two of noisy grief and then limped over tograsp his topknot and pull up his head. Lal's eyes were screwed tightlyshut, but there were tears on his cheeks, and his mouth twisted inanother wail.
"Be quiet!" Ashe shook him, but not too harshly. "Have you yet felt thebite of my sharp knife? Has an arrow holed your skin? You are alive, andyou could be dead. Show that you are glad you live and continue tobreathe by telling us what you know, Lal."
The woman Cassca had displayed a measure of intelligence and ease attheir meeting upon the road. But it was very plain that Lal was ofdifferent stuff, a simple man in whose head few ideas could find houseroom at one time. And to him the present was all black. Little by littlethey dragged the story out of him.
Lal was poor, so poor that he had never dared dream of owning forhimself some of the precious things the hill traders displayed to thewealthy of Nodren's town. But he was also a follower of the GreatMother's, rather than one who made sacrifices to Lurgha. Lurgha was thegod for warriors and great men; he was too high to concern himself withsuch as Lal.
So when Nodren reported the end of the hill post under the storm fist ofLurgha, Lal had been impressed only to a point. He was still convincedit was none of his concern, and instead he began thinking of thetreasures which might lie hidden in the destroyed buildings. It occurredto him that Lurgha's Wrath had been laid upon the men who had ownedthem, but perhaps it would not stretch to the fine things themselves. Sohe had gone secretly to the hill to explore.
What he had seen there had utterly converted him to a belief in the furyof Lurgha and he had been frightened out of his simple wits, fleeingwithout making the search he had intended. But Lurgha had seen himthere, had read his impious thoughts....
At that point Ashe interrupted the stream of Lal's story. How had Lurghaseen Lal?
Because--Lal shuddered, began to cry again, and spoke the next fewsentences haltingly--that very morning when he had gone out to hunt wildfowl in the marshes Lurgha had spoken to _him_, to Lal, who was lessthan a flea creeping upon a worn-out fur rug.
And how had Lurgha spoken? Ashe's voice was softer, gentle.
Out of the air, even as he had spoken to Nodren, who was a chief. Hesaid that he had seen Lal in the hill post, and so Lal was his meat. Butnot yet would he eat him, not if Lal served him in other ways. And he,Lal, had lain flat on the ground before the bodiless voice of Lurgha andhad sworn that he would serve Lurgha to the end of his life.
Then Lurgha had told him to hunt down one of the evil traders who washiding in the marshes, and bind him with ropes. Then he was to call themen of the village and together they would carry the prisoner to thehill where Lurgha had loosed his wrath, and there they would leave him.Later they might return and take what they found there and use it tobless the fields at sowing time, and all would be well with Nodren'svillage. And Lal had sworn that he would do as Lurgha bade, but now hecould not. So Lurgha would eat him up--he was a man without hope.
"Yet," Ashe said even more gently, "have you not served the Great Motherall these years, giving to her a portion of the first fruits even whenthe yield of your one field was small?"
Lal stared at him, his woebegone face still smeared with tears. It tooka second or two for the question to penetrate his fear-clouded mind.Then he nodded timidly.
"Has she not dealt with you well in return, Lal? You are a poor man,that is true. But you are not gaunt of belly, even though this is thethin season when men fast before the coming of the new harvest. TheGreat Mother watches over her own. And it is she who has brought you tous now. For this I say to you, Lal, and I, Assha of the traders, speakwith a straight tongue. The Lurgha who struck our post, who spoke to youfrom the air, means you no good----"
"Aaaah!" wailed Lal. "So do I know, Assha. He is of the blackness andthe wandering spirits of the dark!"
"Just so. Thus he is no kin to the mother, for she is of the light andof good things, of the new grain, and the newborn lambs for your flocks,of the maids who wed with men and bring forth sons to lift theirfathers' spears, daughters to spin by the hearth and sow the yellowgrain in the furrows. Lurgha's quarrel lies with us, Lal, not withNodren nor with you. And we take upon us that quarrel." He limped intothe outer air where the shadows of evening were beginning to creepacross the ground.
"Hear me, Lurgha," he called into the coming night, "I am Assha of thetraders, and upon myself I take your hate. Not upon Lal, nor uponNodren, nor upon the people who live in Nodren's town, shall your wrathlie. Thus do I say it!"
Ross, noticing that Ashe concealed from Lal a wave of his hand, wasprepared for some display meant to impress the tribesman. It came in aspectacular burst of green fire beyond the stream. Lal wailed again, butwhen that fire was followed by no other manifestation he ventured toraise his head once more.
"You have seen how Lurgha answered me, Lal. Toward me only will hiswrath be turned. Now--" Ashe limped back and dragged out the white wolfskin, dropping it before Lal--"this you will give to Cassca that she maymake a curtain for the Mother's home. See, it is white and so rare thatthe Mother will be pleased with such a fine gift. And you will tell herall that has chanced and how you believe in her powers over the powersof Lurgha, and the Mother will be well pleased with you. But you shallsay nothing to the men of the village, for this quarrel is betweenLurgha and Assha now and not for the meddling of othe
rs."
He unfastened the rope which bound Lal's arms. Lal reached out a hand tothe wolf skin, his eyes filled with wonderment. "This is a fine thingyou give me, Assha, and the Mother will be pleased, for in many yearsshe has not had such a curtain for her secret place. Also, I am but alittle man; the quarrels of great ones are not for me. Since Lurgha hasaccepted your words this is none of my affair. Yet I will not go back tothe village for a while--with your permission, Assha. For I am a man ofloose and wagging tongue and oftentimes I speak what I do not reallywish to say. So if I am asked questions, I answer. If I am not there tobe asked such questions, I cannot answer."
McNeil laughed, and Ashe smiled. "Well enough, Lal. Perhaps you are awiser man than you think. But also I do not believe you should stayhere."
The tribesman was already nodding. "That do I say, too, Assha. You arenow facing the Wrath of Lurgha, and with that I wish no part. Thus Ishall go into the marsh for a while. There are birds and hares to hunt,and I shall work upon this fine skin so that when I take it to theMother it shall indeed be a gift worth her smiles. Now, Assha, I wouldgo before the night comes if it pleases you."
"Go with good fortune, Lal." Ashe stood apart while the tribesman duckedhis head in a shy, awkward farewell to the others, pattering out intothe valley.
"What if they pick him up?" McNeil asked wearily.
"I don't think they can," Ashe returned. "And what would you do--keephim here? If we tried that, he'd scheme to escape and try to turn thetables on us. Now he'll keep away from Nodren's village and out of sightfor the time being. Lal's not too bright in some ways, but he's a goodhunter. If he has reason for hiding out, it'll take a better hunter totrack him. At least we know now that the Reds are afraid they did notmake a clean sweep here. What happened, McNeil?"
While he was telling his story in more detail both Ashe and Ross workedon his burns, making him comfortable. Then Ashe sat back as Rossprepared food.
"How did they spot the post?" Ashe rubbed his chin and frowned at thefire.
"Only way I can guess is that they picked up our post signal andpinpointed the source. That means they must have been hunting us forsome time."
"No strangers about lately?"
McNeil shook his head. "Our cover wasn't broken that way. Sanford was awonder. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn he was born one ofthe Beaker folk. He had a network of informants running all the way fromhere into Brittany. Amazing how he was able to work without arousing anysuspicions. I suppose his being a member of the smiths' guild was a bighelp. He could pick up a lot of news from any village where there wasone at work. And I tell you," McNeil propped himself up on his elbow toexclaim more vehemently--"there wasn't a whisper of trouble from hereclear across the channel and pretty far to the north. We were alreadysure the south was clean before we ever took cover as Beakers,especially since their clans are thick in Spain."
Ashe chewed a broiled wing reflectively. "Their permanent base with thetransport _has_ to be somewhere within the bounds of the territory theyhold in our own time."
"They could plant it in Siberia and laugh at us," McNeil exploded. "Nohope of our getting in there----"
"No." Ashe threw the stripped bone into the fire and licked grease fromhis fingers. "Then they would be faced with the old problem of distance.If what they are exploiting lay within their modern boundaries, we wouldnever have tumbled to the thing in the first place. What the Reds wantmust lie outside their twentieth century holdings, a slender point inour favor. Therefore they will plant their shift point as close to it asthey can. Our transportation problem is more difficult than theirs willever be.
"You know why we chose the arctic for our base; it lies in a section ofthe world never populated by other than roving hunters. But I'll wageranything you want to name that their point is somewhere in Europe wherethey have people to contend with. If they are using a plane, they can'trisk its being seen----"
"I don't see why not," Ross broke in. "These people couldn't possiblyknow what it was--Lurgha's bird--magic--"
Ashe shook his head. "They must have the interference-with-history worryas much as we have. Anything of our own time has to be hidden ordisguised in such a way that the native who may stumble upon it willnever know it is man-made. Our sub is a whale to all appearances.Possibly their plane is a bird, but neither can bear too close anexamination. We don't know what could result from a leak of realknowledge in this or any primitive time ... how it might changehistory----"
"But," Ross advanced what he believed to be the best argument againstthat reasoning, "suppose I handed Lal a gun and taught him to use it. Hecouldn't duplicate the weapon--the technology required lies so farbeyond this age. These people couldn't reproduce such a thing."
"True enough. On the other hand, don't belittle the ingenuity of thesmiths or the native intelligence of men in any era. These tribesmenmight not be able to reproduce your gun, but it would set them thinkingalong new lines. We might find that they would think our time right outof being. No, we dare not play tricks with the past. This is the samesituation we faced immediately after the discovery of the atom bomb.Everybody raced to produce that new weapon and then sat around andshivered for fear we'd be crazy enough to use it on each other.
"The Reds have made new discoveries which we have to match, or we willgo under. But back in time we have to be careful, both of us, or perhapsdestroy the world we do live in."
"What do we do now?" McNeil wanted to know.
"Murdock and I came here only for a trial run. It's his test. The sub isto call for us about nine days from now."
"So if we sit tight--if we _can_ sit tight--" McNeil lay downagain--"they will take us out. Meanwhile we have nine days."
They spent three more days in the cave. McNeil was on his feet andimpatient to leave before Ashe was able to hobble well enough to travel.Though Ross and McNeil took turns at hunting and guard duty, they saw nosigns that the tribesmen were tracking them. Apparently Lal had done ashe promised, withdrawing to the marsh and hiding there apart from hispeople.
In the gray of pre-dawn on the fourth day Ashe wakened Ross. Their firehad been buried with earth, and already the cave seemed bleak. They atevenison roasted the night before and went out into the chill of a fog. Alittle way down the valley McNeil joined them out of the mist from hisguard post. Keeping their pace to one which favored Ashe's healingwound, they made their way inland in the direction of the track linkingthe villages.
Crossing that road they continued northward, the land beginning to riseunder them. Far away they heard the blatting of sheep, the bark of adog. In the fog, Ross stumbled in a shallow ditch beyond which lay astubbled field. Ashe paused to look about him, his nostrils expanding asif he were a hound smelling out their trail.
The three went on, crossing a whole series of small, irregular fields.Ross was sure that the yield from any of these cleared strips must bescanty. The fog was thickening. Ashe pressed the pace, using hishandmade crutch carefully. He gave an audible sigh of relief when theywere faced at last by two stone monoliths rising like pillars. A thirdstone lay across them, forming a rude arch through which they saw anarrow valley running back into the hills.
Through the fog Ross could sense the eerie strangeness of the valleybeyond the massive gate. He would have said that he was notsuperstitious, that he had merely studied these tribal beliefs aslessons; he had not accepted them. Yet now, if he had been alone, hewould have avoided that place and turned aside from the valley, for thatwhich waited within was not for him. To his secret relief Ashe paused bythe arch to wait.
The older man gestured the other two into cover. Ross obeyed willingly,though the dank drops of condensing fog dripped on his cloak and wet hisface as he brushed against prickly-leafed shrubs. Here were walls ofevergreen plants and dwarfed pines almost as if this tunnel ofyear-round greenery had been planted with some purpose in mind. Once hiscompanions had concealed themselves, Ashe called, shrill but sweetly,with a bird's rising notes. Three times he made that sound before afigure
moved in the fog, the rough gray-white of its long cloak meltingin the wisps of mist.
Down that green tunnel, out of the heart of the valley, the other came,a loop of cloak concealing the entire figure. It halted right in back ofthe arch and Ashe, making a gesture to the others to stay where theywere, faced the muffled stranger.
"Hands and feet of the Mother, she who sows what may be reaped----"
"Outland stranger who is under the Wrath of Lurgha," the other mockedhim in the voice of Cassca. "What do you want, outlander, that you dareto come here where no man may enter?"
"That which you know. For on the night when Lurgha came you alsosaw----"
Ross heard the hiss of a sharply drawn breath. "How knew you that,outlander?"
"Because you serve the Mother and you are jealous for her and herservice. If Lurgha is a mighty god, you wanted to see his acts with yourown eyes."
When she finally answered, there was anger as well as frustration in hervoice. "And you know of my shame then, Assha. For Lurgha came--on a birdhe came, and he did even as he said he would. So now the village willmake offerings to Lurgha and beg his favor, and the Mother will no morehave those to harken to her words and offer her the first fruits----"
"But from whence came this bird which was Lurgha, can you tell me that,she who waits upon the Mother?"
"What difference does it make from what direction Lurgha came? That doesnot add nor take from his power." Cassca moved beneath the arch. "Ordoes it in some strange way, Assha?"
"Perhaps it does. Only tell me."
She turned slowly and pointed over her right shoulder. "From that way hecame, Assha. Well did I watch, knowing that I was the Mother's and thateven Lurgha's thunderbolts could not eat me up. Does knowing that makeLurgha smaller in your eyes, Assha? When he has eaten up all that isyours and your kin with it?"
"Perhaps," Assha repeated. "I do not think Lurgha will come so again."
She shrugged, and the heavy cloak flapped. "That shall be as it shallbe, Assha. Now go, for it is not good that any man come hither."
Cassca paced back into the heart of the green tunnel, and Ross andMcNeil came out of concealment. McNeil faced in the direction she hadpointed. "Northeast--" he commented thoughtfully, "the Baltic lies inthat quarter."