Rod put his hands up, palms out. "Innocent, sheriff." He sat down.
"There! That's a bit better." Cholly kicked a crate into the middle of their circle and set the tray down on it, then picked up platters and began to fill them with eggs and sausage, muffins, toast, steak, and fried potatoes. "It's a local bird does these eggs, now, not yer average Terran hen. But she's a good fowl, and takes pride in her work. Lower in cholesterol, too." He set the plate on Yorick's lap. "And I won't tell yer what the steak was in its earlier incarnation. Just relax and enjoy it."
"Good, though," Yorick mumbled around a mouthful.
Rod eyed the sausages warily as they passed him, bound for Chornoi. "What's in the cartridges?"
"Pork." Cholly heaped a platter for him. "Naught but good old pork, Major. Where yer finds human folk, yer finds pigs. And why not?" He passed the plate to Rod and began to load another. "They're tasty, portable, and thrives on yer garbage. So what if they're ornery, and got nasty tempers? Just give 'em some mud, and they'll rest content." He set the plate in front of Gwen and turned to serve Yorick and Chornoi, but found they'd served themselves while he wasn't looking. "Ah, well-a-day!" he sighed, and folded his arms, watching the Gallowglasses dine with enthusiasm. "Eh, it does my old heart good to see the young'uns tuckin' into their tucker like that!"
"Couldn't be more than a few years older than we are," Rod mumbled.
"Don't bet on it, laddie." Cholly wagged a forefinger at him. "I'm all of fifty."
"Why, he is ten years my senior!" Gwen said brightly.
"A positive antique," Rod agreed. "But he cooks well, so we won't hold it against him."
"Have it as you will, it does my heart good to see folk enjoy my food." But Cholly's face puckered into a frown. "Yer surely do seem the carefree pair, don't yer?"
"What?" Rod looked up, surprised. "Oh. Just because we don't seem particularly worried?" He shrugged and turned back to his plate. "We aren't."
"Wherefore ought we be?" Gwen looked up in wide-eyed innocence.
"Well…" Cholly coughed delicately into his fist. "There is this little matter of a million or so wild savages who're thirsting fer yer blood."
"He's so clinical with his descriptions, isn't he?"
"Aye, my lord. Dry and bare of emotion."
"It don't worry yer." Cholly tipped his head toward them, eyebrows lifted.
Rod shook his head. "Why should they? We can always escape."
"We do excel at quick disappearing," Gwen confirmed. "Tis merely a matter of waiting thine opportunity."
Cholly looked astounded. "Then why not escape now?"
Rod shook his head. "Don't want to create an incident."
Gwen nodded. "When we do depart, we'd liefer not leave a war in our wake."
"I mean," Rod explained, "if we don't go to that trial, what's going to happen to Wolman-colonist politics here?"
Cholly was still for a moment, gazing off into space. Then he said, "'Tis a point well-taken—and 'tis good of yer to care. But ought yer not have some concern fer yer-selves?"
"We do," Gwen assured him.
"We meant what we said—if push comes to shove, we can always disappear, fade into the woodwork. But there would still be the little problem of getting off this planet," Rod explained.
Cholly leaned back on one leg, scratching where his sideburn had been. "Aye. There'd be some difficulty to that. That's why they made the whole planet a prison, now that yer mention it. Mind yer, there's a-plenty of places to hide here on Wolmar; there're some patches of mountains that not even the Wolmen would bother to go to, but as would have game enough to support just a man and his wife, and mayhap even a family."
Gwen shook her head and swallowed. "Nay. Tis this matter of family, even as thou sayest. I must needs return to them, look thou."
Cholly just gazed at her, brooding, his lower lip thrust out. "Aye, I can understand that. But where be they, Missus?"
Gwen opened her mouth to answer, but Rod said quickly, "On another planet, far away."
"Aren't they all!" Cholly sighed. He set his hands on his hips and stared up at the ceiling beams. "Aye, then, 'tis needful indeed. But I can't give yer any help if y're out to launch, in a manner of speakin'. My men only work dirt-side."
"'S okay." Rod shrugged. "We weren't really expecting anything."
"Yet 'tis good of thee to offer thine aid," Gwen said softly.
Chornoi looked up from her plate and shifted a mouthful of food over into her cheek. "That reminds me, speaking of people hiding out in Wolman territory…"
Cholly's attention shifted to her, with total intensity. "Say," he commanded.
"Strangers." Chornoi finished chewing and swallowed. "I've spent most of the last month wandering around among the Wolmen…"
"That, I know." Cholly said. "And I'll not argue that they're more considerate, and more mannerly than our colonists—and if a lady says 'No,' they'll agree, and not take exception. After all, they've plenty of women on hand. But how did this bring you knowledge of strangers?"
Chornoi shrugged. "It takes one to know one. I'm sure their disguises fooled the Wolmen, but I saw through them— maybe because I was looking from the outside."
"Indeed," Cholly breathed. "And what have these false Wolmen been doing?"
"Nothing much. Claiming a free lunch, and a place in the shade for a few hours, which the Wolmen were glad to supply—that good old primitive code of hospitality…"
"Members of the same tribe, no doubt," Cholly breathed.
"Oh, sure, if they'd come from a different tribe, that would have been a horse of a different color! But being of the same hue, if you follow me, they had the green-carpet treatment…"
"The green carpet being grass?" Rod asked.
"Of course." Chornoi gave him an irritated glance. "So the visitors just sat down, filled up, and discussed the fate of the world."
"For some hours, yer said?"
"Two or three. Then they drifted on. But afterwards I heard the occasional Wolman talking against General Shacklar and us colonists."
"Not exactly what I'd call a positive symptom," Yorick said.
"Nay, certes," Gwen breathed.
"What complaints had they?" Cholly asked. "The Wolmen hailed Shacklar as the voice of reason, right from the start. The only gripes about him came from Terra, and she was only objecting, because our good General-Governor didn't need her!"
"Ever the way with women," Yorick sighed, and Chornoi favored him with her skewerest glance.
"Of course, she hasn't been complaining lately." Cholly noted. "How can she, when she's cut us off?"
Yorick started to answer, but Chornoi snapped, "Can it!"
Rod shrugged. "Okay, so there are a few kvetchers out beyond the Wall. Why let it bother you? There are always a few malcontents."
But Yorick looked doubtful now, and Cholly shook his head. "Malcontents stay in their own villages, but Ms. Chornoi's seen several of 'em wandering about."
Chornoi nodded. "All different tribes, too."
Cholly shook his head again. "That smacks of organization."
"Plus a lot of body-paint," Rod added. "Could be the same agents, just changing their colors each time."
"Like enough." Cholly shook his head. "I'D have to apprise the General of it."
"If you have to." Chornoi was suddenly as tight as a wire. "Just don't tell him who did the noticing, okay?"
"Be easy," Cholly assured her. "I've only to refer to 'my sources,' and he never questions."
"Of course." Chornoi relaxed. "All those traders. What difference would it make which one brought the news?"
"None, to him." Cholly frowned. "Some, to me." He turned to Rod and Gwen. "But I take her point. It's worth talking, fer yerselves."