The Steerswoman's Road (86 page)

“Those horrible creatures that live around the Archives?”
Bel’s distaste was immense; and the wood gnomes had found her equally unadmirable.

“They stand halfway between humans and animals. They resemble
humans more than they do other animals. They have their own language. And they
exist only in the Inner Lands.”

Efraim drew himself up to speak. “As the gods went about
their doings,” he said, “their power was such that it spilled over, spreading
across the worlds. They did not care that this happened. But it caused much
damage, and many strange things to occur. The spilled power entered objects,
and they became alive: all the plants, the animals, and humankind. But of all
living things, only humans could think and know. When the gods noticed this,
they hated the humans for being aware, and seek always to destroy us. They tell
us to lie down and die; but we will not. We fight them.”

Rowan considered the life Efraim had previously led, and
thought his legend not at all surprising. The Outskirts, indifferent and dangerous,
showed no kindness to humans.

A week later, Fletcher’s morning prayers were interrupted.
The tribe was in fair pastures, planning to stay only a week. Fletcher had removed
himself from camp, seeking a private place where he would be hidden from casual
view, as was his habit. Rowan watched him depart, then turned to see about
breakfast. She passed a relay on duty, but stopped when she saw the woman
signal: “Understood.” The relay then signaled wider, to a person farther distant:
“Position seven,” and the signal meaning direct address, and one requesting
confirmation of previous information. While waiting for reply, the relay
glanced away briefly and spoke to the person nearest, who was Rowan. “Get
Kammeryn.”

By the time Rowan returned with the seyoh, the relay was
hard at work receiving signals from three different points. Fletcher was visible,
wading through the grass toward camp. “Report,” Kammeryn said to the relay.

“Fletcher spotted some movement on the veldt, far off, between
positions seven and six. Shortly after, outer seven confirmed. Now outer six,
seven, and eight have three sources of motion, one of them recognized as human.”

The seyoh nodded curtly, then spoke to his aide. “Have the
word passed to twelve-side. Take three people from Kree’s band as extra relays.”
The aide went, at a run. Kammeryn gestured to a nearby mertutial. “Tell Anniss
to gather the children.”

Fletcher arrived at the camp, loping along in his usual
gait. Rowan was not fooled by his nonchalance; his eyes were a shade wider, and
when he reached her side she saw the tension in his muscles. He was nervous.

The news was now all across the camp. Warriors were assembling
nearby, their chiefs waiting for the seyoh’s instructions.

Orranyn’s band and the rest of Kree’s were nearest. Rowan
heard Jann ask someone, “Where did he spot the movement?”

“Between six and seven,” someone replied, aggrievedly, as if
Jann had been told already.

“No, how far out?”

“Near the outer circle,” one of Kree’s band replied a bit
smugly.

Rowan spared a glance from the signaling and noted Jann glowering
in Fletcher’s direction. But beside her, Jaffry was reluctantly impressed. “Sharp
eyes,” he commented.

“Fletcher, what do you say?” Kree’s warrior called. “Did
your god tell you where to look?” But it was a friendly gibe, almost a boast on
Fletcher’s behalf.

Fletcher ignored the man. He was reading the signals
intently. He caught Rowan watching him. “I’m thinking,” he explained. “Three
people. Depending on how they’re deployed, it might be three scouts from an
approaching tribe. We’d see their outer line soon.”

Bel joined Kree’s people. “There’s nothing on twelve-side,”
she informed Kammeryn. The seyoh nodded abstractedly.

Eventually, more signals: a fourth person was sighted, and a
moment later, three more beyond. “It’s a tribe,” Kammeryn said.

And a moment later, his eyes narrowed. Bel translated the signal
Rowan had missed: “They’re making camp.”

Under such circumstances, Kammeryn’s tribe must move or
fight. Rowan helped in the preparations around the camp for both eventualities,
and the tribe waited for Kammeryn’s decision.

Rowan’s first clue that something new had occurred was the
sight of Jann striding angrily by, hissing with fury to a comrade following
her, who seemed perplexed by her anger.

Rowan watched them pass, thought, and returned to where she
had left Kammeryn.

He was still there, with Kree and three more of her band, including
Bel. “What’s happening?”

Bel nodded toward position seven. “They sent one man in our
direction, alone. It looks like they want to talk. Kammeryn sent Fletcher to
meet him.”

This was the source of Jann’s outrage: Kammeryn’s respect
for the Inner Lander made even more manifest.

Fletcher was far beyond sight. His experiences were communicated
by relay: outer circle, to inner, to the woman on duty beside Kammeryn.

The first signal was from Fletcher himself, stating that he
had reached outer seven’s position. Outer seven then signaled that Fletcher had
passed and was approaching the waiting stranger, and that the two members of
Kree’s band who had accompanied him were moving into hidden positions.

Fletcher’s next signal stated that the proper forms for approaching
a member of a strange tribe were being observed.

There was a long pause as Fletcher conducted his
conversation with the unknown person. Then came: “Meeting requested stranger.
Approach to camp requested.”

“For what reason?” Kammeryn said to the relay; and the question
was sent across the veldt.

Reply consisted of that special signal which indicated that
no existing signal corresponded to the requested information.

Kammeryn thought. “Is this man absolutely alone?” The signal
went to seven, to six and eight, to a scout posted past eight, to the hidden
guards. Confirmation was received from all except the guards, who would break
cover only to reply in the negative. “Is there still no sign of more strangers
elsewhere around our perimeter?” The question crossed the camp, spread outward in
all directions. There was no sign of others. “Ask Fletcher for his own opinion.”

The necessary terseness of the reply lent the distant
Fletcher the illusion of authority. “Comply.”

An hour later, Fletcher, the guards, and the stranger neared the
edge of camp. The stranger was a Face Person.

When they arrived, Kammeryn stepped forward to meet the man;
but Fletcher, with a wry expression, told him, “He’s not looking for you,
seyoh.”

The small man stopped and planted his feet firmly. “I am looking
for Rowan, called the steerswoman,” he said.

Rowan exchanged a glance with Bel, then stepped forward. “I
am Rowan.”

The envoy looked up at her. “You must come and speak to my
seyoh.”

Rowan considered. “Why?” she asked cautiously.

“I do not know. He says to me, bring the steerswoman.”

“I’m sorry,” Rowan told him, “but I’ll need a good reason.
You must excuse me for being cautious, but I don’t want to walk into some sort
of trap.”

“He promises no danger to you. You may come, and then you
may go.” He looked askance at Bel, Fletcher, Kammeryn, the many other watchers
all around. “I wish to leave now. I do not like to be here.”

Rowan turned to Bel. “What’s your opinion?”

Bel addressed the Face Person directly. “Was it your tribe
that we met at Rendezvous?”

“Rendezvous?”

“Yes.” Bel became exasperated. “Two weeks ago.”

“We were there.”

Bel’s mouth twisted. “I don’t like it,” she told Rowan, “but
perhaps this means that their seyoh has changed his mind. He’d want to tell us
personally.”

“That may be the case ...”

“All right, then. But let’s bring some reinforcements. Kammeryn?”

The seyoh nodded, scanned the people nearby. “Fletcher,” he
said immediately, “and Kree—”

“No,” the stranger said, brows knit. “Only the steerswoman.”

There was silence. “Certainly,” Rowan said to the man, “this
concerns Bel, as well. And I’m sure you can understand that we’d be more
comfortable with just a few of Kammeryn’s people nearby.”

“No. My seyoh says, only the steerswoman.” He squinted at
her. “That is you.”

The steerswoman sighed, and thought. Bel watched her a moment.
“Don’t,” the Outskirter said, definitely.

“Kammeryn?”

The seyoh shook his head. “I cannot command you. But I advise
that you send this man on his way.” Fletcher contributed no advice; but his
eyes showed his evaluation of the idea.

“A hostage,” a voice said, from behind Rowan.

She turned. It was Efraim. “You must ask for a hostage,” he
stated, “to guarantee the promise. Ask for a woman, or a girl child.”

The envoy seemed to recognize Efraim as one of his own kind
and gaped at him in outraged betrayal. “No!”

“They will never harm you, if we have their woman.”

The threat decided the envoy. He thrust out his chin. “You
refuse. I will leave now,” he announced, and turned to depart.

“Wait,” Rowan called. He halted, watching with narrowed
gaze. The steerswoman said to her friends and to Kammeryn, “I think I should
go.”

“No,” Bel said, all glower.

Fletcher was equally suspicious. “Why only you? Why can’t
you bring at least Bel, or me, or someone?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t think this fellow can tell me.
But I’m curious; there’s something about the seyoh of that tribe ..” Trying to
identify the source of her impression, Rowan reconstructed in her mind the
meeting of the seyohs at Rendezvous. She had it. “At the meeting,” she said to
Bel, “he never refused my questions.”

Bel considered the fact irrelevant. “And?”

“He refused yours, and Kammeryn’s—everyone’s at some point;
but never mine.”

“You’re willing to trust him simply because he answered all
your questions?” Bel clearly considered the notion mad.

“Well,” Rowan said, “yes. Some of those questions were ones
he wasn’t pleased to answer; but he did, and only at my request. Why would he
now, suddenly, wish me ill?”

Bel glared and planted her fists on her hips. “Now he
regrets saying anything at all, and wants to kill you to keep his secrets
quiet. You know that he and his tribe, and all the Face People have come Out of
the Face to prey on the rest of us. He doesn’t want the news spread.”

Rowan shook her head. “But you know it, and the other seyohs.
That can’t be his motivation.” She spoke to the nervous envoy. “I’ll come back
with you.”

But Kammeryn stepped between them and addressed the man. “We
will send two warriors with the steerswoman,” he announced. “They will wait
outside your camp. They won’t enter.”

“No. Only her.”

The seyoh set his mouth. “One warrior, who will stop and
wait on this side of your inner circle.”

“No.” The envoy dismissed Kammeryn. “Do you come?” he asked
Rowan.

She drew a breath and spread her hands apologetically to her
friends. “Yes,” she told the Face Person, “I come.”

The Face People’s camp looked deserted. The only signs of human
presence were sounds: a few quiet voices, rising from somewhere beyond her
sight, or perhaps from within the tents. The fire pit, when she and her escort
reached it, was doused but still warm, cooking implements set nearby, as if
abandoned the instant Rowan entered the camp.

At the seyoh’s tent, she finally found more people: guards
at either side of the entrance. Recalling her first meeting with Kammeryn, she
relinquished her weapons to them without their needing to ask.

Inside were the familiar Outskirter furnishings: patterned
rug and cushion, stiff fabric box, a bedroll folded out of the way against one
wall. The decoration was simpler than in Kammeryn’s tribe, and shades of blue
and red predominated; Rowan surmised abundances of lichen-towers and flatwort
out on the Face.

The seyoh of the tribe sat on the carpet, again toying with
his queue, pretending nonchalance. He glanced up at her once, then gestured
her to a seat.

Rowan searched for an appropriate opening statement to make
under such circumstances; she failed, and reverted to Inner Lands politeness. “And
how may I help you?”

“I will ask you some things,” the seyoh declared, seeming to
address the statement to his braid. He paused, then spoke less definitely.

. and you will answer with the truth, always?” He puzzled,
studying the knotted end of the queue.

She found his habit annoying. “That’s correct,” she replied.
“Because I require that people always speak the truth to me, I’m bound to
always speak the truth to them. Because I require them to answer any question I
ask, I must answer any question they should ask. It’s the way my honor works,
and the honor of all steerswomen.”

He considered this. “You know that the names of all Outskirters
are guarded. If I asked you the names of persons in the tribe with which you
travel, if I dared to do such a thing, would you then answer me?”

The steerswoman sat quite still. If he did ask, and she
supplied the names, he or one of his men could use the information to gain
entry to the camp, under the deception that the owner of the name had trusted
him and gave it freely. He could attempt to assassinate Kammeryn, or the
children; or to signal his own tribe when conditions favored an attack.

Kammeryn’s people were her friends; she would not willingly
cause them to come to harm.

Years earlier, while she had been a candidate at the Steerswomen’s
Academy, there had been a rumor in circulation among the students: the tale of
a steerswoman who had been captured by bandits and required to explain in detail
the defenses of a nearby village. Since the steerswoman could not know if the
person asking had previously lied to a steerswoman, she had no right to refuse
and was faced with a choice.