“Nurses conveniently supplied by the mothers of changelings whom the villagers have killed,” Gar grunted. “The Fair Folk are looking more and more unsavory by the minute.”
“Hey, these are just guesses! We might be doing them an injustice.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Gar sighed. “As the centuries passed, I suspect the Fair Folk began to half believe they really were fairies, or some sort of superior being.”
“They certainly do seem to have a condescending attitude,” Dirk agreed. “On the other hand, they can’t believe in their own superiority too much, or they wouldn’t be so careful to make sure the outside world doesn’t hear the truth about their mortality and their ‘magic.’ ”
“They certainly are exploiting the Milesians as thoroughly as they can,” Gar said grimly. “They have rejected their responsibility toward their fellow beings, indulging themselves in leisure and pleasure, and are paying the price: inbreeding, decadence, and a diminishing population.”
Dirk nodded. “Given another few centuries of such living, they’ll die out.”
“I’d hate to see that,” Gar said, frowning. “After all, the Fair Folk have a lot to recommend them.”
“Yes. Culture and education, something resembling a legal code, and a minimal form of government, not to mention connection to the rest of human history. The Milesians have forgotten all that.”
“Including technology,” Gar reminded.
“Yeah, but that includes more than weapons: food synthesizers and medical diagnostic systems, things the rest of the people on this planet really need. Can’t we find some way to save them from themselves?”
“Of course,” Gar said. “Persuade them to save the rest of their world.”
“I think I see what you mean,” Dirk said slowly. “They could provide the absolute bare minimum of government and law, and enforce it with their high-tech weapons.”
Gar nodded. “They could also look up modern agricultural methods, and boost production of food a hundred times in one generation.”
“Malthus’ Law,” Dirk warned. “Population increases much faster than food supply.”
“No matter how fast you increase the food supply,” Gar said grimly. “But I think the Fair Folk are past masters of population control.”
“Yes, I expect they have that kind of technology, too,” Dirk agreed. “You’re right—they could save their world from this incessant warfare and the pestilence and starvation that go with it, couldn’t they?”
“Yes,” Gar agreed, “if we could persuade them to come out of their hills and involve themselves in the lives of the Milesians.”
“There is that little problem,” Dirk sighed. “How do we solve it?”
Gar stiffened, head cocked as though he were listening. “No time to think about it any more. The Hawks haven’t given up. They’re still quartering the area, in case we do come out of the Hill!”
CHAPTER 17
Dirk grabbed the lieutenant’s shoulder and gave it a shake. “Cort! Enemies coming!”
“The Fair Folk?” Cort asked, jarred rudely from his reverie of huge eyes and graceful movements.
“No, the Hawks!”
“You two run to the north,” Gar said, frowning. “I’ll go south. They won’t bother you if I’m not there.” -
“I’ve told you before, don’t be ridiculous,” Dirk snapped.
Cort nodded, glowering. “We don’t desert friends.”
Gar opened his mouth to argue, but Dirk said, “Besides, they’ve seen us with you, and they’d probably beat us until we told them where you are—and since we won’t know, they just might keep beating until we’re dead.”
“All right, we all flee together.” Gar flashed them a smile that momentarily lit his face with a warmth Cort had never seen. “I’m blessed with such firm friends.”
“Your life is our life,” Cort quoted. “That’s the motto of my company. Where do we run to?”
“Quilichen!” Dirk’s eyes lit. “It’s the only stronghold that could take us, it’s only a day away, and I know Magda wouldn’t turn us out!”
Cort glanced at him through transformed eyes, the eyes of a lover, and knew that Magda would indeed not send Dirk away, for he’d seen the same glow in her eyes that he saw in Dirk’s.
But not, he realized, the same that he’d seen in Desiree’s.
“I hate to bring the Hawk Company down on her head,” Gar said, scowling, “but we don’t have much choice, do we?”
“Hey, I didn’t think of that!” Dirk said, alarmed. “This is a grudge match now, and the Hawks won’t rest until they get you! They’ll lay siege to Quilichen!”
“They may not break it, but they’ll wreak a deal of misery in trying,” Cort said grimly. “I can send for the Blue Company to come fetch me out, but I hate to put them all at risk just for my skin.”
“Now do you understand why I want you two to leave me?” Gar challenged.
“Yeah, and I understand why we still won’t,” Dirk said, jaw setting. “Would you have Herkimer pick you up if we did?”
Gar hesitated, then said, “I’m not quite ready to give up on this planet yet, and if Herkimer set me down fifty miles away, the Hawks would find me sooner or later. Better to finish it while we’re here.”
“Who’s Herkimer?” Cort asked.
“A very strange-looking friend,” Dirk answered, “who would start a whole set of folktales going on his own.”
“He could be a major disruption to your culture,” Gar agreed, “and I don’t think the Fair Folk would thank us for the ideas he might send running rampant through your world.”
Cort frowned, not sure he liked the implication that Gar knew what was good for this world of Durvie and what was not.
“No, we’ll try to face them out, but lead them away from Quilichen,” Gar said with decision, and turned to forge ahead through the woods.
His big body did at least shove the underbrush out of the way, and Cort followed, doing his best to navigate the uneven ground with horseman’s boots. They plowed through a hundred yards of dense undergrowth before Gar stopped suddenly, head raised.
“Worse trouble?” Dirk asked.
“Yes. They’ve struck our trail,” Gar said. “After all, we haven’t been trying terribly hard to hide it, have we?”
“Go faster,” Dirk urged.
Gar shook his head. “They’re ahead of us, closing in from the east—and from the west, too.”
“Back the way we came!” Cort cried, a vision of Desiree dancing before him.
But Gar shook his head again. “They closed ranks behind us, too, as soon as the sun was up. I think they watched through the night in case we came out of the hill.”
“Just how sharp is your hearing?” Cort asked in frustration.
“Most amazingly sharp,” Gar told him. “We’re boxed in on three sides. The only way open is the mountainside, where it’s too steep for horses.”
“And on the other side of that mountain, is Quilichen.” Dirk was ashamed of himself; he was feeling jubilant again. After all, if he was thrown on Magda’s doorstep through no fault of his own …
“Time to climb, gentlemen—if we can reach the mountainside before they do. Let’s march!” Gar turned at right angles and plunged off through the underbrush again.
They were in too much of a rush to try to hide their trail, though when they came to a stream, Gar pulled off his boots and waded its length as far as he could without going in the wrong direction. It took a few minutes to dry his feet and pull stockings and boots on again, but in a matter of minutes, they were across the stream and forging uphill.