The hoop holder now got to his feet, the net in one hand. He was taller than I by a head. While his arms and legs were thin, his barrel body suggested strength. His face was far from human, resembling more one of the demon masks of Tanth.
The eyes were deep-set under extravagantly bushy brows, so that while one believed them there, one did not see them. The nose was a fleshy tube, unattached save at its root, moving up and down and from side to side in perpetual quest. Below that appendage was a mouth, showing two protruding fangs and no real chin, the flesh, wattled in loose flaps, sweeping straight back from the lower set of teeth to join the throat.
Any traveler of the space lanes becomes inured to strange native races. There are the lizard-like Zacathans, the Trystians, who have avian ancestors, and others- batrachian, canine, and the like. But this weird face was repellent – at least to me – and I felt aversion.
When he reached the far end of the tree, which swayed under his weight, he moved with caution, trying each step before he put his full weight on it. Then he settled down, to lie full length, staring intently into the scummed water, the webbed hoop clasped in his left hand.
I did not dare yet to move. To skirt the edge of this lake meant coming into the sight of the fisherman, and I shrank from that. As I hesitated, Eet saying nothing though he watched the creature intently, the arm of the fisherman swept down and up again, scooping in his hoop a scaled thing about as long as my forearm.
He grabbed it out of the net, knocked it sharply against the tree trunk, and then knotted its limp length to a tie of his kilt.
“Go right-“ Eet’s thought came.
The fisherman was left-handed, his attention on that side. Right it was. I moved slowly, trying to put a screen of brush between us. But even when I was able to do so I felt no safer. It would be easy to become mired in a bog patch, and thus helpless prey for the club. My cutting knife was sharp but the native had the longer reach and knew this swamp. Also, to work any deeper into this flooded land and perhaps become lost in it was folly. And I said as much to Eet.
“I do not think this is a true swamp,” he observed. “There are many signs of a great past flood. And a flood can be born of a river-“
“What is the advantage of a river- here?”
“Rivers are easier to follow than game trails. And there is this – civilizations are born on rivers. Do you presume to call yourself a trader and not know that? If this planet can boast any civilization, or if it is visited by traders from off world, you would find evidence of that along a major river. Especially where it meets a sea.”
“Your knowledge is considerable,” I observed. “And you certainly did not learn it all from Valcyr-“
Again I felt his irritation. “When it is necessary to learn, one learns. Knowledge is a never-emptied storehouse. And where else can one learn better of trade, traders, and their ways, then on such a ship as the Vestris? Her crew were born to that way of life and have a vast background of lore-“
“You must have spent some time reading their minds,” I interrupted. “By the way, if you know so much – why did they take me off Tanth?” I did not really expect him to answer that, but he replied promptly.
“They were paid to do so. There was some plan there -I do not know its details, for they did not. But that went wrong and then they were approached and well paid to get you off planet and deliver you at Waystar-“
“Waystar! But- that’s only a legend!”
If Eet could have snorted perhaps he would have produced such a sound.
“It must be a legend of substance. They were taking you there. Only they insisted upon following their regular schedule first. And when you took ril fever they decided prudence was in order. They would get rid of you lest you contaminate the rest. They would just not turn up at Waystar, but send a message to those who had arranged it all.”
“You are a mine of information, Eet. And what was behind it – who wanted me so badly?”
“They knew only an agent. His name was Urdik and he was not of Tanth. Why you were wanted they did not know.”
“I wonder why-“
“The stone in the ring-“
“That!” My hand went to the pouch where I carried it. “They knew about that?”
“I do not think so. They wanted something you or Vondar Ustle carried. It is of great importance and they have been searching for it for some time. But can you not say now that the ring is your most important possession?”
I clutched the bag closer. “Yes!”
Then, startled, I looked down at the pouch. It was moving in my hand, and there was heat. We had come into the open and there was daylight around, but I thought I could also detect a glow.
“It is coming alive again!”
“Use it then for a guide!” urged Eet.
I fumbled with the seal on the pouch, slipped the ring on my finger. But the band was so large it would have fallen off if I had not closed my fist. My hand, through no volition of mine, moved out, away from my body, to the right and ahead. It would seem that once more the stone used my flesh and bone as an indicator. And I turned to follow its guidance.
NINE
“We are followed,” Eet informed me.
“The fisherman?”
“Or one of his kind.” My companion did nothing to relieve my mind with that report. “But he is cautious- he fears-“
“What?” I demanded bitterly. “This knife is no adequate defense, except at close quarters. And I have no desire to stand up to him as might a Korkosan gladiator. I am no fighter, only a peaceful gem trader.”
Eet disregarded most of my sour protest. “He fears death-from-a-distance. He has witnessed such- or knows of it.”
Death from a distance? That could mean anything from a thrown spear or slingshot propelled rock, to a laser beam, and all the grades of possible “civilization” in between.
“Just so.” Eet had picked up my thought. “But “ I caught a suggestion of puzzlement. “I can read no more, only that he fears and so sniffs us prudently.”
We holed up in a mass of drift thrust into a corner between two downed trees, eating from our supply of seeds, drinking from the ship’s flask. The seeds might be nutritious, but they did not allay my need for something less monotonous. And I had seen none of them growing since we had come into the dripping country, so that I rationed carefully what we had. As I chewed my handful, I watched our back trail for any sign of a tracker.
I sighted him at last. He had gone down on one knee, his head almost touching the ground as that trunk-like, mobile nose of his quivered and twisted above my tracks. If it was not the fisherman, it was one enough like him to be his twin.
After a long sniffing, he squatted back on his heels, his head raised, that trunk standing almost straight out from its roots as he turned his head slowly. I fully expected him to point directly at us, and I readied my knife desperately.
But there was no halt in that swing. If he did know where we were, he was cunning enough to guess we might be alert, and did not betray his discovery. I waited tensely for him to arise and charge, or to disappear into the brush in an attempt to circle around for an ambush.
“He does not know, he still seeks-“ Eet said.
“But- if he sniffed out our trail, how could he miss scenting us now?”
“I do not know. Only that he still seeks. Also he is afraid. He does not like-“
“What?” I demanded when Eet paused.
“It is too hard, I cannot read. This one feels more than he thinks. One can read thoughts, and the cruder emotions. But his breed is new to me; I cannot gain more than surface impressions.”
At any rate, though my trail led directly from where the sniffer now squatted, he made no attempt to advance. Whether I could leave the cover we had taken refuge in without attracting attention, I did not know.
Two trees, not the huge giants of the forest, but ones of respectable girth, had fallen so that their branched crowns met, their trunks lying at right angles. We were in the corner formed by the branched part, a screen of drift piled not too thickly between us and the native.