“Bormas wanted those herds killed off, long since.”
“Bormas was right to urge it.” Koma Nepor mused, “The general should have listened to him. Well, if the fliers have taken the animals, they haven’t taken them to a Talons. Nothing for grass eaters in those rocky places. No. They’ll have them on pasture somewhere. Most likely on the steppes, or in the badlands. Whichever, they’ll have to be found.” He scratched himself reflectively, thinking. “Bormas says we must send Jondarites. I told him no, it would be better to get the Noor to find them. Bormas asked why the Noor would bother, considering what use had been made of them in the past. To which question, of course, one cannot give convincing answer. Still, I think no Jondarites. Too much room there for conflict of an undesirable kind. Perhaps we had better consult with Tharius Don?” He left it as a question. Both of them knew what such consultation would mean-an hour’s lecture on the morality of the situation. Still, better Tharius Don than Mitiar, who disliked unpleasant news and retaliated against those who brought it. Better than Bossit, who would definitely seek a scapegoat to take responsibility for the disappearance.
They postponed the decision in desultory chat, “And what of your researches?” Ezasper asked. “What new and remarkable things have you found?”
Nepor giggled again. “I’ve been experimenting with blight, Joro my boy. There are, ah … interesting applications. Applications I do not intend to reveal to General Jondrigar. Oh, by the moons, none of us would be safe if he knew them.”
Ezasper turned his wide face toward the other, held up a cautioning fist. “Careful, Koma. If you have found something like that, be very careful speaking of it. To anyone at all.”
The other shifted uncomfortably. He never knew exactly what Ezasper meant. Perhaps he meant not to speak of it at all; perhaps he meant to speak to no one except Ezasper himself. Sometimes Nepor felt he did not understand what was going on. Experimental situations were very different from people. In experiment, one could control what happened–or, if not what happened, the conditions under which it happened. Results could be duplicated time after time. With people, very little was controllable. They acted quite unpredictably. It seemed wisest to let the subject go, for now. Still, it was quite remarkable what a sprayer full of blight could do to a living person.
23
The lady Kesseret prepared to depart from Highstone Lees. On the morning she would go to the top of Split River Pass and down the other side, carried in a palanquin by Noor slaves while she meditated upon the evil of their slavery. Slavery, like Awakening, would vanish on the day. Until then, she could not appear to disapprove of it without coming under suspicion. More suspicion, she told herself, sure that she was already suspected of much.
“Have you any word?” she asked Tharius Don.
“The man who played the role of Fatterday did his job well. Queen Fibji will send an expedition to the South shore.”
“When? How soon?”
“Probably not until late summer. Still, that is only a little time. When she does so, we will see that the fliers hear of it. It will give them something to think about besides Rivermen. Also, I’ve sent an envoy to ask her to search for the missing beasts. The envoy will plant the idea that such beasts should be taken on any voyage, in case there are none beyond the River. They will steal the beasts-if they find them. And this, too, will draw the fliers’ attention.”
She was not sure this feint would have its desired purpose. The fliers were subtle, more subtle, she thought, than Tharius realized. “When the time conies, Tharius, do you really think the fliers will capitulate? Do you really think they will give up their wings? Become like the Treeci? Legendary Treeci, I should say. We don’t even know if they really exist.”
“There are books in the palace library that say they do, Kessie. Old books, which have stood on those shelves for hundreds of years, talk about the Treeci islands. Books no one looks at but me. Luckily, Glamdrul Feynt cares for nothing but his files. Strictly speaking, the books should be his responsibility, yet I thank whatever gods may be that they are where I can read them. And yes, to answer your question, I think the Thraish will capitulate. Rather than see us die or themselves. Once they have experienced the other kind of life, I think they will prefer it.”