“The trick is to be the swittler,” Mikkal said.
Fraina’s gaze fell tenderly on Ivar. “Or to be smart enough to keep what you’ve been strong enough to earn,” she murmured.
His heart knocked. She was more beautiful than she ought to be, now in this moment of his victory, and in the trunks and halter which clad her. Mikkal wore simply a loincloth and crossed shoulderbelts to support knives, pouch, canteen. Those coppery skins could stand a fair amount of exposure, and it was joy to feel warmth upon them again. Ivar struck to loose, full desert garb, blouse, trousers, sun-visored burnoose.
That plateau known as the Dreary of Ironland was behind them. There would be no more struggle over stonefields or around crevasses of a country where nothing stirred save them and the wind, nothing lived save them alone; no more thirst when water must be rationed till food went uncooked and utensils were cleaned with sand; no more nights so cold that tents must be erected to keep the animals alive.
As always, the passage had frayed nerves thin. Ivar appreciated the wisdom of the king in sequestering firearms. At that, a couple of knife fights had come near ending fatally. The travelers needed more than easier conditions, they needed something to cheer them. This first successful hunt on the eastern slope of the Ferric Mountains ought to help mightily.
And, though the country here was gaunt, they were over the worst. The Waybreak Train was headed down toward the Flone Valley, to reach at last the river itself, its cool green banks and the merry little towns snuggled along it, south of Nova Roma. If now the hunters laughed overmuch and over-shrilly while they butchered the crag bull, Ivar thought it was not beneath a Firstling’s dignity to join in.
Moreover, Fraina was with him, they were working together. … Their acquaintance was not deep. Time and energy had been lacking for that. Besides, despite her dancing, she behaved shyly for a tineran girl. But for the rest of his stay in the troop— I hope I’ve honor not to seduce her and leave her cryin’ behind, when at last I go. (I begin to understand why, no matter hardships, sharpest pain may be to leave.) And Tanya, of course, mustn’t forget Tanya.
Let me, though, enjoy Fraina’s nearness while I can. She’s so vivid. Everything is. I never knew I could feel this fully and freely, till I joined wanderers.
He forced his attention to the task on hand. His heavy sheath knife went through hide, flesh, gristle, even the thinner bones, much more quickly and easily than did the slender blades of his comrades. He wondered why they didn’t adopt the nord model, or at least add it to their tool kit; then, watching how cunningly they worked, he decided it wouldn’t fit their style. Hm, yes, I begin to see for my self, cultures are unities, often in subtle ways.
Finished, meat loaded on stathas, the three of them went to rest by the spring which had attracted their quarry. It made a deliciously chilly bowlful in the hollow of a rock, the shadow of a bluff. Plume trava nodded white above mossy chromabryon; spearflies darted silver bright; the stream clinked away over stones till the desert swallowed it up. The humans drank deep, then leaned luxuriously back against the cliff, Fraina between the men.
“Ay-ah,” Mikkal sighed. “No need for hurry. I make us barely ten clicks from the Train, if we set an intercept course. Let’s relax before lunch.”
“Good idea,” Ivar said. He and Fraina exchanged smiles.
Mikkal reached across her. In his hand were three twists of paper enclosing brown shreds. “Smoke?” he invited.
“What?” Ivar said. “I thought you tinerans avoided tobacco. Dries mouth, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, this’s marwan.” At the puzzled look he got, Mikkal explained: “Never heard of it? Well, I don’t suppose your breed would use the stuff. It’s a plant. You dry and smoke it. Has a similar effect to alcohol. Actually better, I’d say, though I admit the taste leaves a trifle to be desired alongside a fine whiskey.”
“Narcotic?” Ivar was shocked.
“Not that fierce, Rolf. Hell-near to a necessity, in fact, when you’re away from the Train, like on a hunting or scouting trip.” Mikkal grimaced. “These wilds are too inhuman. With a lot of friends around, you’re screened. But by yourself, you need to take the edge off how alone and mortal you are.”