Helliconia Winter h-3 Read online

  Next moment, a long black sledge shot by, teamed by ten dogs. A bell dangling over the driver jangled madly. Several men sat aboard, twelve possibly, all crouching masked against the cold. It was by in a flash.

  “Military,” Fashnalgid said. “Could they be after us?”

  “After you, you mean. What does it matter? With them travelling ahead, clearing the way, this is our best chance to get out of the tunnel safely. Unless you like thousand-foot jumps, you’ll come too.”

  He started off again. After a while, the running became automatic. He could feel the knock of his lungs against his ribs. Ice formed on his chin. The lids of his slitted eyes froze. He lost count of time.

  When the brightness came, it assailed him. He could not prise open his eyes. He jogged on before realising that he had at last left the tunnel. Sobbing, he staggered to one side and clung to a boulder. There he lay, panting as if he would never stop. Two sledges passed nearby, horns blowing, but he did not look up.

  A lump of falling snow forced him into action. He scrubbed his face with the snow and peered ahead. The light still seemed brilliant. The wind had dropped. There was a break in the cloud. Only a short distance away, people were strolling, smoking veronikanes, wearing blankets. A woman was buying something at a stall. An ancient bowed man was driving horned sheep down the street. A welcoming sign said PILGRIM LODGE: No Ondods. He had reached Noonat.

  Noonat was the last stop before Kharnabhar. It was nothing more than a halt in the wilds, a place where teams could be changed. But it had something else to offer. The trail between Kharnabhar, Northern Sharagatt, and Rivenjk followed the contours of the chain, taking every advantage of the protection against the polar winds which the mountains provided. But at Noonat there was a junction, and a road led westward, over the great falls and valleys and plateaux of the western chain, to enter at last into the plains of Bribahr. Kharnabhar was now nearer than those plains. But the plains were nearer than Rivenjk, by a long measure.

  The state of hostility which existed between Uskutosh and Bribahr might account for an increased number of military uniforms visible in

  Noonat, and for the fact that an imposing new wooden building, which would face westwards, was being built.

  Shokerandit was almost too exhausted to take much care for himself. But he had the presence of mind to stagger behind the boulder that had sheltered him and follow a footpath uphill until he came to a stone- built goat shed. He climbed in with the goats and fell asleep.

  When he woke, he felt refreshed, and was angry with himself for wasting time. He could not greatly care what had happened to Fash-nalgid, so great was his need to find Toress Lahl and to get the sledge on to Kharnabhar. Once there, his problems would be over.

  The straggle of Noonat lay below him. Its poor houses clung to the mountainside like burrs to an animal’s flank. Most of the houses took advantage of eldawon trees, a species with thin multiple trunks, and cowered against them or were actually built into them. Since most of the houses were constructed from the timber of the eldawon, it was difficult to distinguish habitation from vegetation.

  Cottages crouched here and there, linked by trails followed by humans, animals, and fowls. They stood higgledy-piggledy, so that one man’s doorstep came level with the next man’s chimney. Fields were coterminous with roofs. Every homestead boasted a pile of chopped logs. Some piles leant against the houses, some houses against the piles. Woodmen could be heard, busy with axes, adding to either the number of piles or the number of homesteads.

  For a short while, the air was free of cloud and possessed a brilliance unique to high mountain places. Batalix shone over a distant crag. Boys in the stoney fields, supposedly herding sheep and goats, flew kites instead.

  A crowd of pilgrims had just arrived on foot from Kharnabhar. Their voices carried in the clear air. Most had shaven heads, some went barefoot, despite the hard snow on the ground. All ages were represented among them; there was even an old yellowed woman being carried in a wicker chair to which shafts had been attached. A few local traders were watching them attentively, but without great interest. This lot had already been fleeced on their way northwards.

  Having travelled the trail before, Shokerandit knew that Uuundaamp would have to stop here. He and Moub would rest. All the asokins would be staked separately and fed, with extra meat for Uuundaamp, the leader. Sledge and harness would be thoroughly overhauled for the last lap of the journey if the Ondods intended to go on to Kharnabhar. And what would they do with Toress Lahl?

  Not murder her. She was too valuable. As a slave, she could be sold; but few humans would buy a human slave from an Ondod. Ancipitals on the other hand … He was frightened for her, and forgot Fashnalgid.

  Although the ancipital kind were rare in Sibornal as a whole, those who escaped slavery often made their way to Shivenink, finding in the wilderness of the chain congenial habitation. Having experienced slavery themselves, they were the more inclined to use human slaves. Once she vanished into the hills with them, Toress Lahl would be lost to human knowledge.

  Negotiating the paths at the rear of the houses, he covered the whole village. On its outskirts, he came to a palisade. Furious barking sounded on the other side as he approached. He peered over and saw trail asokins, staked out separately, or in cages. They launched themselves as far as chain and mesh would allow as he appeared.

  This was unmistakably the staging post. He remembered it now. It had been snowing the last time he was through, when almost nothing could be seen in the blizzard. Something like fifty half-starved asokins were waiting in the pound.

  Without provoking them further, he moved cautiously round by the side.

  The staging post was the last building to the north of Noonat. A shout indicated that he had been sighted, although he saw no one. The Ondod were too cautious to be caught unawares.

  Three of them appeared immediately, carrying whips. He knew how deadly they were with whips, halted, made the sign of peace on his forehead.

  “I want my friend Uuundaamp, give him loobiss. Speak him loobiss, ishto?”

  They were surly. They made no move.

  “No see Uuundaamp. Uuundaamp no want loobiss together you. Uuundaamp fat lady plenty kakool.”

  He said. “I know. I bring help. Moub give birth, yaya?”

  Sullenly they let him through. He told himself it was a trap, and that he should be ready for anything.

  At the entrance to a barnlike building, the Ondods clustered, pausing, giving each other sullen eye glances. Then they motioned him to go in. The interior was dark and unwelcoming. He smelt occhara.

  They thrust him in from behind and slammed the door.

  He ran forward and threw himself flat. The sharp tongue of a whip passed lightly across his shoulder. He rolled over and dived to a side wall.

  With one swift glance he observed Moub naked except for the blanket he had given her, which was now wrapped round her breasts. She lay on a plank, legs spread wide. Toress Lahl crouched over her. Toress Lahl was tied by the upper arm, in such a way that she could use her hands. The other end of the rope was held by one of three dehorned phagors who stood motionless against the wall opposite the one against which Shokerandit crouched. Uuundaamp’s lead dog, Uuundaamp, was staked in the middle of the barn, snapping savagely at the end of his leash in a futile attempt to eat the nearest portion of Shokerandit.

  And Uuundaamp. He had heard or seen—for the barn had slit windows—Shokerandit’s approach. With the ability of his kind, he had jumped above the lintel of the door, and stood poised there, about to lash out with his whip again. He smiled as he did so, without mirth.

  Shokerandit had his gun in his hand. He knew better than to point it at the Ondod—the gesture would have provoked both Uuundaamp and phagors. Nor would any threat to Moub halt Uuundaamp in his present state of mind.

  Shokerandit pointed the gun at the dog.

  “I kill you dog dead, finish, gumtaa, ishto? You fall down here smart, drop whip. You come
here, boy, you Uuundaamp. Else your dog plenty kakool one second quick!”

  As he spoke, Shokerandit rose up, pointing the gun with both hands down the throat of the raging dog.

  The whip fell to the floor. Uuundaamp jumped down. He smiled. He bowed, touched his forehead.

  “My friend, you tumble off sledge in tunnel. No gumtaa. I very worry.”

  “You’ll have a dead lead dog if you give me that sherb. Untie Toress Lahl. Are you all right, Toress?”

  In a shaky voice, she said, “I have delivered babies before, and here comes another. But I am greatly relieved to see you, Luterin.”

  “What was the plan here?”

  “The phagors were going to do something for Uuundaamp. I was the exchange gift. I’ve been terrified but I’m unharmed. And you?” Her voice trembled.

  The phagors never moved. As he worked at the knots in the cord, Uuundaamp said, “This very nice lady, yaya. Shaggie he much enjoy… give him chance, yaya. No harm.” He laughed.

  Shokerandit bit his lip; the creature had to be allowed to save face. Almost penniless, they were forced to rely on him to get them to Kharnabhar.

  When she was free, Toress Lahl said to Uuundaamp, “You very kind. When your baby is born, I buy you and Moub pipes of occhara, ishto?”

  Shokerandit marvelled at her coolness.

  Uuundaamp smiled and whistled through his teeth. “You buy extra pipe for baby too? I smoke three pipe together.”

  “Yaya, if you will kick out these shaggy brutes while I perform the delivery.” Her face was white as she confronted him, but her voice no longer shook.

  Still Uuundaamp felt that honours had not yet been made equal.

  “You give money now. Moub go buy three pipe occhara now. Better leave Noonat before is darkness.”

  “Moub’s water broken, give birth directly.”

  “Baby no come maybe twenty minutes. She go buy fast. Smoke, give birth.” He clapped his eight- fingered hands and laughed again.

  “The baby is almost hanging out of her.”

  “That woman lazy bag.” He grasped Moub by the arm. She sat up without protest. Toress Lahl and Shokerandit exchanged glances. When he nodded, she produced some sibs and gave them to the woman. Moub wrapped her entire body in the red and yellow blanket and waddled out of the barn without protest.

  “Stay there,” Shokerandit said. Toress Lahl sat on the water-stained bench. The lead dog settled down on its haunches, its red tongue lolling. At a gesture from Uuundaamp, the phagors filed out of the far end of the barn, pushing through a broken door. Outside, by the dog cage, stood Uuundaamp’s sledge, unharmed.

  “Where your friend grow tail on face?” Uuundaamp asked innocently.

  “I lost him. Your plan did not work well.”

  “Ha ha. My plan work fine. You still want go Kharber?”

  “Are you going that way? You’ve been paid, Uuundaamp.”

  Uuundaamp held his hand wide in a gesture of frankness, exposing his sixteen black-gleaming nails.

  “If your friend tell police, no gumtaa. Hard for me. That bad man no understand Ondod like you. He want smrtaa. Better we go fast, ishto, once that bag throw her baby from her bottom-part.”

  “Agreed.” No point in quarrelling now. He tucked his gun into his pocket. The apparent friendship of the trail could be resumed.

  They remained watching each other, and the asokin waited at the end of its leash. Moub padded back, still swathed in the blanket. She gave two pipes to Uuundaamp and resumed her place on the plank by Toress Lahl, the third pipe in her mouth.

  “Baby now come. Gumtaa,” she said. And a small Ondod male was born into the world without further ado. As Toress Lahl lifted it, Uuundaamp nodded and then turned away. He spat into a corner of the barn.

  “Boy. Is good. Not like girl. Boy do much work, soon have biwack, maybe one year.”

  Moub sat up and laughed. “You no make good biwack, you fool sherb. This boy belong Fashnalgid.”

  They both burst into laughter. He went across and hugged her. They kissed each other over and over.

  This scene so much took everyone’s attention that thev did not heed whistles of warning from outside. Three police carrying rifles at the ready entered the barn from the road end.

  The leader said coolly, “We have offence orders against you all. Uuundaamp, you and that woman have a number of murders to your name. Luterin Shokerandit, we have followed you from Rivenjk. You are an accomplice in blowing up an army lieutenant, and killing a soldier in the course of his duties. Also guilty of deserting from the army. In consequence of which, you, Toress Lahl, slave, are also guilty of escaping. We have a dispensation to execute you at once here in Noonat.”

  “Who these humans people?” asked Uuundaamp, pointing indignantly at Shokerandit and Toress Lahl. “I no see them. They just come here one minute, cause plenty kakool.”

  Ignoring him, the police leader said to Shokerandit, “I have orders to shoot you if you try to escape. Throw down any arms you have. Where is your recent companion? We want him too.”

  “Who do you mean?”

  “You know who. Harbin Fashnalgid, another deserter.”

  “I’m here,” said an unexpected voice. “Drop your rifles. I can shoot you and you can’t hit me, so don’t try. I’ll count three and then I shall shoot one of you in the stomach. One. Two.”

  The rifles dropped. By then they had seen the revolver poking through one of the slit windows.

  “Grab the guns, then, Luterin, look alive.”

  Shokerandit unfroze and did as he was told. Fashnalgid entered by the rear door, setting all the asokins barking.

  “How did you come so providentially?” Toress Lahl asked.

  He scowled. “I imagine the same way these dummies did. By following that unmistakable red-and- yellow striped blanket. Otherwise I had no idea where you were. As you see, I’m going in for disguise.”

  They had noticed. Fashnalgid had had his immense moustache shaved off and his hair cut short. He kept his revolver levelled at the police in a professional manner as he spoke.

  “Rifle get much money,” Uuundaamp suggested. “Cut these man throat first, ishto?”

  “Never mind that, you little scab-devourer. If your shaggie was here, I’d drop him. Luckily he is not, because this place is swarming with police and soldiers.”

  “We’d better leave fast,” Shokerandit said. “Excellent timing, Harbin. You’ll make an officer yet. Uuundaamp, if we keep these three police quiet, can you and Moub get the dogs harnessed up really quickly?”

  The Ondod became very active. He got the two women to drag the sledge into the barn and grease the runners, which he insisted was necessary. The police were made to stand with their trousers round their ankles and their hands up the wall. Everyone stood back as lead dog Uuundaamp was unleashed and he and the other seven asokins were secured to the traces, each in its appropriate place. As he worked, Uuundaamp cursed each of them in different tones of affection.

  “Please hurry,” said Toress Lahl once, betraying her nervousness.

  The Ondod went and sat down on the plank where his wife had recently given birth.

  “Jus” take small rest, ishto?”

  They waited it out, no one moving, until his honour was satisfied. Snow came in through the rear door as he methodically checked over the harness.

  From the direction of the street they could hear shouts and whistles. The three police had already been missed.

  Uuundaamp picked up his whip.

  “Gumtaa. Get on.”

  The rifles were tucked hastily under the sledge straps as they jumped aboard. Uuundaamp called encouragingly to Uuundaamp, and the sledge started to move. The police at once began to shout at the top of their voices. Answering shouts came. The sledge bumped out of the rear door.

  Outside, ravening asokins leaped furiously against the mesh of their cage. Uuundaamp raised himself, twirled his whip, sent its tip flying towards the cage door. The hasp of the cage was secured
in position by a thick wooden wedge. The whip end flicked the wedge free as the sledge went by.

  Under the weight of the dogs, the cage door crashed open, and the brutes hurled themselves to freedom in a torrent of fur and fangs. Into and through the barn they rushed. Ghastly cries came up from the police.

  The sledge gathered speed, bumping across rough ground, swinging round. Uuundaamp shouted commands, plying his whip expertly, licking each dog with it in turn, arms tireless. The passengers hung on. The barking and sounds of pain from behind died as they went over the hillside and jarred down onto the northward road.

  Shokerandit looked back. No one was following. Faintly through the snow, sounds of growling still reached his ears. Then the road turned. Toress Lahl clutched him. Under one arm, wrapped in a bundle of dirty rag, she sheltered the newborn babe. It looked up at her and grinned, showing sharp baby teeth.

  A mile along the trail, Uuundaamp slowed and turned.

  He pointed the handle of the whip at Fashnalgid.

  “You, kakool man. You jump off. No want.”

  Fashnalgid said nothing. He looked at Shokerandit, grimaced. Then he jumped.

  Within a few yards, his figure was concealed in a whirl of snow. His last words reached them faintly— the terrible oath: “Abro Hakmo Astab!”

  Uuundaamp turned to scan the trail ahead. “Kharber!” he cried.

  Avoiding Noonat, Fashnalgid met up with a group of Bribahrese pilgrims, returning from Kharnabhar and Noonat and making their way home, down the winding trails to the western valleys. He had shaved off his moustache in order to avoid identification and had every intention of disappearing from human ken.

  Hardly had he been with the pilgrims for twenty-five hours when the group met another party climbing up from Bribahr. The latter had such a tale of disaster to tell that Fashnalgid became convinced that he was heading in the wrong direction. Perhaps right directions did not exist anymore.

  According to the refugees, the Oligarch’s Tenth Guard had descended on the Great Rift Valley of Bribahr, with orders to take possession of or destroy the two great cities of Braijth and Rattagon.