Nikko walked swiftly to Nils’s tent. He wasn’t there. She turned toward Ulf’s then, and he was gone too. Nikko explained, and the principal wife sent her youngest son, a boy of nine, pelting off to look for Nils.
“He’ll ask other boys,” she said, “and before long there’ll be a small army hunting for him. If he’s anywhere near, he’ll hear their minds; it shouldn’t take long. Why don’t we go to your tent and wait for him?” She put a large strong hand on Nikko’s shoulder while giving instructions to the youngest wife. Then they left.
They sat down on the ground beside Nikko’s tent. “It’s natural to feel afraid,” the woman said. “But if your man is still alive, he may get back all right. And if he doesn’t, it will pass. You are still young and pretty. Not strong-bodied, but pretty none the less. Any man would be glad to take you into his cabin. Besides, you star people have sky boats, and ancient weapons to threaten the orcs with. Nils will know what to do. Even the chiefs turn to the Yngling for his wisdom.”
They sat in silence then, Nikko’s mind curiously calm. To the south rose the ridge that bordered the valley, at that distance looking more black than green. Along its crest she could distinguish the tops of individual pines and firs, small against the sky. The omnipresent smell of wood smoke was around her, but beneath it were the subtler fragrances of meadow flowers. And there was birdsong. She felt high and strong and sure—not afraid at all—and while she knew the feeling would prove transient, that was all right too. She was enjoying it now.
When Nils arrived she arose with composure, and the principal wife left. Nikko told him what Ram had said. Then they went into the tent and she recontacted the ship.
“This is Ram. Over.”
“Nils is here, Ram. Ilse’s husband. He’s a member of the War Council and an advisor to the Council of Chiefs—sort of an affiliate member. He speaks Anglic well.”
“Okay,” Ram said. “Do you have questions to ask him, or how will we handle this?”
“Why not just have him say whatever comes to him? If any questions come to my mind, he’ll know. He’s a telepath.” She handed the microphone to the Northman, who held it as if he used one every day.
“Tell me what the orc said, as exactly as you can,” Nils instructed.
When Ram was done, Nils took over. “Kazi ruled when I was there, and I don’t know this Ahmed. But you can be sure he’s cruel. No man could rule the orcs who was not cruel and ruthless.”
You bastard, Ram thought, did you have to say that? In front of her?
“He may be more sane than Kazi though,” Nils continued, “and therefore perhaps more predictable. And it sounds as if he wants something more from you. That’s hopeful for the hostages, for now. But when he asks for more, you’ll have to make some answer. To say ‘no’ will put the hostages in danger, but ‘yes’ may not be an answer you can give. Prepare yourself for that.
“In deciding your answer, remember that orcs love torture, and they are masters at it. They know how to torture the mind as well as the body . . . ”
And so do you, thought Ram, you barbarian son of a bitch.
“ . . . and when a hostage has served his purpose, they may use him to amuse themselves. Unless of course they’re afraid to, afraid of heavy vengeance. You might make a show of force, to make them fear you. But warn them first, so they don’t think they are being attacked and perhaps kill their captives. Don’t threaten them; just show them what you can do. Attack a herd of cattle.
“They know a lot about you from the minds of your people. Undoubtedly they have decided you are weak-willed.”
Thanks a lot.
“Show them they’re wrong and they’ll become more cautious.
“They already have a sky boat”—Nils paused momentarily, catching Nikko’s unspoken correction, “a pinnace, with its weapons, so their need for hostages is less than it would be otherwise, and they may be more willing to kill them. It would be much better if you could get the pinnace back. Maybe we could do that for you. If you would take a party of our warriors in the other pinnace, perhaps we could get it back for you.”