"Sure looks it. Warner got that lot?"
She nodded.
"And gave some to you?"
"He had the dress made for me," Gwen said.
"Why?"
"None of your business."
"The devil it's not," Rick said.
"Captain Galloway, I have not asked you to be my protector. I don't ask now."
"Sure, Gwen. I thought Caradoc was sweet on you."
"He likes me."
"Seems to me you encouraged him, back when you were pregnant."
"I might have-"
"And now Warner. Gwen, I need both of them. You play them off against each other, and you'll get one killed sure as hell!"
"No, that won't happen."
And there's not a lot I can do anyway. Keep them apart? Nonsense. Warner and Gwen are needed at the University, and Caradoc goes there to see her whenever he gets the chance, and how do I stop him?
"There's more news," she said.
"All right. What?"
"I know of a village where they make drugs out of surinomaz."
"Somebody else mentioned that. Warner?"
"Probably. Anyway, there is such a place. One of the travelling medicine-show teams came in with the news."
"Which one?"
"Doesn't matter. The merc with the outfit was Beazely, but it was an acolyte, Salanos, who had wits enough to come tell me."
"That could be important. If there's some local use for the stuff it might be easier to get people to grow it."
"Yes. I'll check that out, shall I?"
"Please. And the balloon; that's a great idea. It could be decisive in the Roman civil war. Observation of the enemy, command and control of our own forces, artillery spotting-Gwen, it could really be the winning factor."
"Thank you."
"You don't look too happy."
"Should I be? More battles-"
"They'll be fought anyway," Rick said. "And people will starve no matter what we do, too. But at least we can save some of them, this time, and we can get civilization spread so far across this planet that the Shalnuksis and their goddam skyfire can't root it out."
"We can try," Gwen said.
5
Tylara stared at the roughly whitewashed door of the farmhouse. The one-eyed image of Vothan stared back. She waited until she heard a faint click and saw movement behind the one eye.
"Who seeks entry to the House of the Wolf?" a voice demanded.
"Tylara do Tamaerthon, Eqetassa of Chelm."
"Enter, lady," said a rough voice, followed by the sound of a lock turning.
Tylara stepped into the house, stamped the mud off her riding boots, then glared at the man who'd let her in. "What are your orders about tending the door, Bartolf?"
The man turned the color of a winter sunset. He swallowed. "To recognize all who come, and let them enter with hands open and empty."
"Did you ask me to open my hands?"
"No, but-"
"But nothing. I might have been a spy disguised as the Lady Tylara. If I had been-" Her right hand darted into the full left sleeve of her riding tunic. Then she raised it. As the sleeve fell back, it exposed her husband's Gerber Mark II combat knife. She'd borrowed it for just this sort of demonstration.
"You'd have been dead from that mistake, Bartolf."
"Perhaps, Lady Tylara," he said. "But an enemy in your place wouldn't have lived enough longer to do hurt or learn much." He raised his voice. "Bennok! The berries are ripe."
The tapestry on the opposite wall of the antechamber rippled, then rose as a dark-haired, pimple-faced youth slipped through a waist-high opening it had concealed. He held a small crossbow, the sort noblewomen used for shooting birds and rabbits. Not enough, thought Tylara, then saw that the thin point of the quarrel was barbed and glistening with something green and sticky.
"Poison?" she asked. "And the point has been made small enough to enter ringmail."
Bartolf nodded. "That was Monira's idea. The rest was all his." He reached down to tousle the boy's hair.
The boy carefully sidestepped out of reach.
"That was a very good idea, Bennok," said Tylara. "Are there others who keep watch?"
"Oh yes, lady. With the poison on the quarrel, any of us can do the work. So we all take turns."
"Very good." She reached into her purse and pulled out a silver piece. "This is for your good work."
Bennok didn't reach for the silver. "Will there be one for all the others, lady? I can't take it unless there is."
Tylara tried not to sound as confused as she felt. "I think there will be silver for all of you."
"Oh thank you, lady. Now maybe we can buy those longbows ourselves if Bartolf goes on saying he won't give them to us." He darted back under the tapestry and vanished.
Bartolf was red-faced again. "I'm sorry, Lady Tylara. I should have told you. They've all eleven of them sworn an oath to be as brothers and sisters and have all their wealth in common. The only things they'll call their own are weapons and clothing."
"And Monira was the leader in this, I'll wager?" said Tylara, smiling to show that she wasn't offended.
Bartolf returned her smile uncertainly. "She spoke for them all when they told us. I don't know if that was her idea, though."
"And you don't think you ever will?"
"No. They are good at keeping even the secrets we don't want them to keep."
Someday that might make trouble. Now it proved to Tylara that her idea was succeeding beyond anything she'd expected.
Thoughts sometimes took on a life of their own. This one was born in bitter sleeplessness during the early days of pregnancy. She lay awake, unable to sleep, unable to stop torturing herself with restless thoughts. She was certain that Rick had not fathered Gwen's child, but her mind would not let go of the matter. Let her think of stars and star weapons, and it would end with that question. That night it began simply enough, when Rick musingly told her that the star-folk would come and it might be useful to capture one of their ships.
Tylara could scarcely conceive of a starship. She never expected to see one. Yet certainly something had brought Rick and the others to Tran. All the priesthoods agreed that mankind had not been created here. If humanity came from another world, then there must be ships to travel between the worlds.
And Rick wanted one. He wanted one badly.
If he had a ship, would he leave her?
Or would he first teach everyone on Tran the secrets of star weapons and starships, as he said he would do? It scarcely mattered. There was no way to capture a starship. Rick had laughed at his own idea. His star weapons would be useless.
And Tylara lay pondering stars and starships and weapons and children-There were no dangerous weapons. Only dangerous men-and women, and children. If the starmen were all like Rick, reluctant to kill, sentimental, fastidious to the point of squeamishness…
How would you take a ship of the sky-folk? You would certainly need to surprise them, so they would not be able to use their fire weapons.
But suppose, suppose half a dozen children could get aboard such a ship. Not ordinary children. Children well trained, dedicated, fanatic followers devoted to service… Then at a signal they pulled out knives and fell on the crew. That would be surprise indeed. No one thinks that an eight-year-old girl can be dangerous, unless she is a trained warrior, and maybe not even then. The Shalnuksis, according to both Rick and Gwen, would not be sending trained warriors. They would send merchants, easily surprised and once surprised easily killed.
But you would need to have the children trained and ready long before the sky-folk came. And they would have to be kept a secret from everyone until then. There were those on Tran who might warn the sky-folk if they could. Lady Gwen could be one of those. And Rick surely would not approve of this. Why should he know?