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came to a small stream, bubbling out from a mossy patch under a bush. This
seemed as good a stopping point as any and better than most. Gently he lowered
the woman to the ground, almost gasping at the relief to his half-numb
shoulder. The woman was small and comparatively light, but there is no really
light weight for carrying seven miles through a dark forest on one shoulder.
As the woman touched the ground, her eyes opened and her breathing quickened.
But she made no effort to rise or even move. Blade took off his tunic, soaked
one sleeve in the spring, and mopped her face with it. Then he rummaged in her
pack until he found a small tin cup, filled it with water, and gave it to her.
She practically snatched the cup from his hands, spilling half the water in
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the process. She gulped the rest thirstily, like an animal, without taking her
eyes off Blade. He saw there was stark animal terror in those eyes, and almost
by reflex his hand moved toward the hilt of his sword. The girl looked ready
to risk almost anything to get away or failing that, to kill him.
He would have liked to stay here long enough to find some way of reassuring
the girl. But he still wasn't sure that they were safe from meeting other
parties of huntresses or other parties of Senar. Blade didn't care to risk a
fight with the huntresses, and he did not really want to fight the unfortunate
wild men.
The Senar seemed to have enough troubles of their own without his adding to
them.
So he once more dug into the pack and pulled out one of the weighted throwing
lines. Cutting it into pieces with his knife, he tied the girl's hands behind
her. Then he tied the other, longer piece around her neck.
Finally he packed up all the loose gear and hauled the girl to her feet.
"We must go on," he said. Blade spoke slowly and carefully, without raising
his voice, as he might have spoken to a frightened child. He did not trust the
girl yet, nor would he do so for quite a while. But he wanted to get it across
to her that he was not going to treat her the way the Senar no doubt treated
captured women. The terror in the girl's eyes told him how vicious that
treatment must be.
"We must go on," he repeated, in the same tone. "I do not want to meet any
more of the women of
Brega for a long time. But I am not of the Senar. So I do not want to meet
them either. You should not try to run away. If you do, you might meet the
Senar. If you did, you would have nothing to fight them with. And I would not
be there to kill them and save you. I am a hunter in my own lands, and I can
use
bow and sword. I will protect you from the Senar, I promise you, as long as
you stay with me."
At this point the girl burst into half-hysterical sobbing and dropped to her
knees in front of Blade.
When her sobbing had subsided to faint whimpering, she was able to choke out,
"Thank you, for Mother
Kina. Thank you, for Mother Kina. You are not of the Senar, not of the Senar."
"No, I am not of the Senar," Blade repeated firmly. "And I will not let them
catch you or harm you.
Now stand up, and let us go away from here, before the Senar find us."
Those last words made the girl spring up as if she had been stung by bees.
Blade grabbed the end of the rope around her neck and wound the last foot of
it around his hand. Then he nodded, and the girl stepped out to the full
length of the rope and turned away into the trees.
However careless they might be, the huntresses of Brega were certainly in good
condition. The girl kept pace with Blade almost every foot of the day's
travel, with no sign of effort or strain except for a sheen of sweat on her
tanned skin. Blade kept them going all day, with stops every two hours or so
for rest and water. He took advantage of one of those stops to shoot two large
black squirrel-like beasts that incautiously peered down on him from a branch
above.
They had to keep going for nearly an hour longer than Blade had intended in
order to reach water. It was nearly dark when they found a small, rushing
stream and Blade indicated they would make camp for the night. The girl looked
as though she could have gone on for several more hours. But the muscles of
Blade's legs were beginning to develop hard and painful knots. He sat down
with a sigh of relief.
After a few minutes' rest he rose, tethered the girl to a branch, and began
collecting firewood. The bank of the stream was littered with dry needles and
wind-fallen branches, and it did not take him long. A
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few sparks from the flint lighter in the pack, and the needles flared into
crackling orange flames. When the fire was going well, Blade pulled out the
two giant squirrels and began skinning and gutting them.
The girl watched him intently, never taking her eyes off the fast-moving
knife. Poor girl, thought
Blade. She's still wondering if I'm going to start on her with the knife after
I finish the squirrels.
Blade finished the first squirrel, thrust it onto a stick, and braced the
stick over the fire. Then he took the knife and stepped over to the girl. She
turned pale under her tan, and a cold sweat of stark terror broke out all over
her.
"Would you like to cut up the other one?" he asked.
The girl jumped as though Blade had actually stabbed her, and stared up at
him, eyes wide open.
"Hold up your hands," said Blade, firmly but quietly. Numbly, the girl obeyed. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]