Aufors was not positive what had been given to the Old Friends, but he had a hunch he had some of it in his breast pocket: the lichen he had allowed to eat his own, male blood during his hike across the desert to Mahahm-qum. Though the guards had patted him down, the packet of lichen powder was so thin they had not felt it.
The sentries changed their post in early evening. Obrang, the same soldier who had beaten Aufors over the head previously was the one assigned to the post where he was chained. Aufors showed no recognition. In the evening, both he and the guard were provided with a meal. The guard gave Aufors a sneering look while taking half of Aufors’s ration to add to his own. He ate greedily, with much lip smacking aimed in Aufors’s direction, then began gaping almost as soon as the meal was over, his normally torpid wits damped further by too hearty a meal.
Interrupting Obrang’s yawn, Aufors said softly, as though talking to himself, “My woman is in south. I would give much to rejoin my woman, my children.”
The guard stopped gaping and grinned. “Yeah. And whatmuch might you have to give, shit-toter?”
“Everyone here is looking for long-life stuff, very rare, very valuable. I have some. I would give that.”
The guard’s grin vanished. He came nearer Aufors and knelt down. “Yeah? And where would that be?”
“Not here. I will show where, if you let me go.”
The guard stared at him for a moment, his dull wits struggling with the dimly recognized possibilities.
“I can search you,” blustered the guard.
“I don’t have it here. But close.”
“Tell you what,” the guard said after some time had passed. “I put a shackle on you. I lock the other end to me. You take me to the place, if the stuff is there, I let you go.”
“You have to use it right away,” murmured Aufors. “It’s already more’n two days old, and it’s only good for three days. I had more, but your commander took it.”
Obrang’s eyes swiveled. “The Prince? Terceth? Him?”
Aufors nodded.
The guard dithered. Terceth was known to be a good deal smarter than the average Aresian. Besides, he was the Chieftain’s son. Keeping his voice affable with some difficulty, Obrang said, “All right. You show me where.”
“Bring water,” murmured Aufors. “You have to use it right away.”
The guard fetched his water bottle, giving Aufors a chance to take the packet from his pocket and hide it up his sleeve. The guard shackled Aufors to him, pocketing the key, and they moved away from the guard post to the nearest dune that hid them from the city. There Aufors pretended to look for landmarks, finally settling on a dead bonebush, where he fell on his knees and dug into the sand at its root to come up with the packet.
The guard tried to snatch it, but Aufors turned away.
“I’m not fightin’ over it,” said the guard, with an evil grin. “We go back and I lock you to your post again. Then I’ll just take it.”
“You try, I yell,” said Aufors. “Guards come running. They’ll take that away from you. This is too valuable for me to give for nothing. You let me go first.”
The guard took a moment to arrive at a conclusion in which Dunnel and General Terceth both figured prominently. “All right,” he said with false geniality. “But I’ll use it first, then I’ll unlock you.”
“Pour water into cup,” said Aufors, waiting until the guard had complied to lean forward and sprinkle half the powder.
Obrang sniffed it, then gulped it down, grinned his evil grin, and started to move away.
“Be still,” said Aufors. “You have to be still for minute, let it work. Otherwise no good.”
The guard sat, staring ominously at Aufors and jingling the chain between them like a threat. Aufors hummed in time to the jingling. First an impatient quick time march.Chink chink chink chink. Then an adagio:chinkle . . . chinkle . . . Then a dirge:clunk . . . silence . . .clunk . . . silence . . .