Ambition and Alavidha (15 page)

“You think some
of the people of Argyll, thwarted in their desire to colonise the
islands will try to come west, despite the Accords.”

“I do.”

“They
can’t!”

“They will! It
is going to happen my young vadeln, if not in our lifetimes then in
the lifetimes of our children. I fear that the Lind will be forced
ever westwards, even unto Dagan itself. I am very much afraid
Thalia, very much afraid.”

“How do you
know all this?”

“My brother is
Foreign Secretary on the Council of Argyll,” he answered, “he keeps
me informed.”

“What’s his
name?” she inquired, “I studied in Stewarton. I might know of
him.”

“Francis
Durand,” he answered.

* * * * *

-13-

DOMTA OF THE
GTRATHLIN – CLOSE TO THE MOUNTAINS OF THE NORTHERN CONTINENT –
WITHIN THE RTATHLIANS OF THE LIND

Drellor’s
caravan made its ponderous way through the wooded foothills that
surrounded Domta Gtratha, the location where the High Council (a
human description) of the Lind met; a council made up of the oldest
and wisest from the packs and known as the Elda.

Chad was very
careful to contain his excitement, keeping his plans submerged deep
within his outer consciousness. He had tried to explain the
peculiarities and abilities of the Lind to Zeb during the journey,
emphasising the fact that Zeb too must try to do the same.

Zeb had grasped
the concept quickly and it was obvious to Chad that he had been
practicing. His face was openly showing that he was concentrating
on just that.

This wouldn’t
do.

“Try to relax,”
commanded Chad, “act natural.”

“Natural to our
profession or natural boy-like?” Zeb asked with an impish
smile.

Chad bit back
the words he wanted to utter. This boy was too quick by half.

“The latter,”
he hissed and Zeb nodded. He began to chatter and laugh, telling
Chad a story (Chad had no idea if it was true or not, with Zeb you
couldn’t always tell but he suspected the latter) about a joke he
and his little friends had once played on one of his teachers at
school. One of the caravan guards edged closer so he could hear.
During the journey Zeb had earned quite a reputation as a
storyteller. It was how he told them, with a perfectly straight
face and engaging smile. People wanted to listen.

Chad would have
preferred silence so that he could think but he could cope with the
chatter, at least for a bell or so. After that Zeb’s talking and
endless questions usually got on his nerves.

He reinforced
his inner consciousness, that of a jovial, yet shrewd, jewellery
merchant. He was in fact very good at assuming a character and even
Drellor was beginning to believe that Chad was a bona fide merchant
and not a thief as he had first suspected.

“Is it far
now?” asked Zeb of the guard, having finished his story.

“Not far now,”
the guard answered with a good-humoured smile, “just over that rise
there, see?”

“I thought the
Lind might have been here to welcome us,” complained Zeb, jiggling
his body in the saddle with feigned excitement. Or was it feigned?
Chad wasn’t sure. Zeb was only a little boy after all, excitement
would be natural.

“That’s not
their way,” explained the guard, “but they know we are here.
They’ve been watching us for a while.”

“I didn’t see
anything,” said Zeb, almost but not quite managing to keep the
chagrin from his voice. He prided himself on his observation
skills, a necessary accomplishment for a successful thief and he
had thought himself good at it.

The guard
didn’t notice the infinitesimal change in the boy’s voice. Zeb had
managed to retain a countenance of wide-eyed innocence. He still
appeared to be what he wasn’t; a young apprentice trading-boy on
his first visit into the Rtathlians of the Lind.

“You never
do
see them,” continued the guard, “this is my fifth time
here and I’ve only spotted them a couple of times.”

“What’s this
Gtratha like?” Zeb asked.

Chad applauded
the question. Local knowledge was important and the guard, in its
absence, was the next best thing.

“Much like
other Lind domtas,” the unsuspecting guard answered, “but bigger.
You won’t see much of where the Lind live. There’s an enclave for
humans north of where the Elda meet and the Lind dagas are, that’s
their word for their homes. Vada Supply Station is there too, we
get to use it because we bring in goods and luxuries those who live
there can’t get anywhere else. Spent a month there once, time I
broke my foot.”

“Where will we
set up camp, in the enclave?”

“In the third
section of the enclave. You look disappointed boy.”

Zeb’s face had
indeed fallen.

“I so much
wanted to see around,” he said, “do we have to
stay
in the
enclave?”

The guard
laughed, “no, not at all. You’ll be able to explore to your heart’s
content, the Lind don’t mind, just as long as you don’t interfere
with what they’re doing and behave yourself.”

Zeb’s face
brightened, “that’s okay then,” he said with satisfaction.

The guard
laughed again, “just remember what I told you. Drellor’ll have your
guts for garters if there are any complaints. He’ll fine your
master and then you’ll be in a rod and a pickle.”

“I’ll
remember,” Zeb promised in a fervent voice, his eyes gleaming
behind his eyelashes as he ducked his head to avoid a low hanging
branch.

* * * * *

By nightfall
camp had been set up in that part of the enclave dedicated to its
trading visitors.

As usual Chad
and Zeb’s tent was close to the one belonging to Drellor. It would
have looked strange if they hadn’t pitched it there, next to the
guard tents. His merchandise was of high value, lightweight and
traders in jewellery always took advantage of this extra
security.

Trading would
begin in the morning. Only a foolish (and poor) merchant bargained
when tired.

“Do you want me
to start looking around tonight?” asked Zeb as he set out his
bedroll, “there’s just enough light.”

“Best wait
until morning; breakfast, dishes and help me set up then you can go
take a look. Find the cave, but remember, don’t make your interest
too obvious. We know that it is guarded so make a note of where the
Lind guards are and how many.”

“Consider it
done,” said Zeb as he wriggled into his bed and made himself
comfy.

“Confidence
misplaced is a sure route to the gaol-house,” Chad warned.

“I know,”
agreed Zeb, “but I don’t think there are any gaols round here, are
there?”

“Probably
someplace much worse,” answered Chad, blowing out the candle, “so
be careful.”

“I’m always
careful,” yawned Zeb, closing his eyes.

* * * * *

Next morning
Zeb was up with the malinon. He hurried through breakfast and the
dishwashing then looked expectantly at Chad.

“Oh, off with
you boy,” said Chad, silently applauding Zeb’s demeanour and
flapping his hands in a shoo’ing gesture. “I can manage, not be
much doing this day.” He rubbed his hands together. Much as he was
a master of the art of relieving certain people of their
possessions, he did enjoy a bit of bartering. His face showed this
inner excitement and for once it wasn’t assumed. Zeb, who didn’t
know about these wheels within wheels decided that he simply must
practice his acting skills a lot more. At this point in his young
life his ambition was to become the greatest thief on the
continent. That would change (and sooner than he could ever had
imagined) but he didn’t know that. He was also, as his uncle had
told him he would, learning a lot from Chad.

He nodded his
thanks and scurried away, quite as if here was a boy who couldn’t
quite believe his luck at the unexpected holiday and if he didn’t
get out of sight quick enough his master might change his mind.

Now, where
first? Might be best to begin away from the cave.
It might
look suspicious if I go there first
. He composed his face into
an expression he thought it should be like, one of interest and
excitement at getting this marvellous chance to explore.

He spent the
first part of the morning looking round the dagas of the Lind,
nodding with polite interest to the greetings. He spent over a
quarter bell watching some ltsctas playing, laughing aloud at their
antics. They were very small ones and they were very comical and
didn’t appear to be at all sure of their balance. As they batted at
each other with their paws, one especially fell down more than the
others, tail wagging and panting with joyous glee.

He left the
dagas, not without some regret and walked over to the copse of
ancient allst trees, where the Elda met. He didn’t spend more than
a few moments there however, there wasn’t much to see anyway. Also,
he was hungry, his stomach was complaining and it began rumbling as
soon as he thought of food. He would come back later.

Over a cold
lunch he told Chad about his morning, being careful to describe it,
ltsctas and all, just in case anyone was listening.

“Do you need me
this afternoon?” he asked in a pleading voice, not altogether
feigned, he really wanted to go look some more. Chad replied in the
negative so as soon as lunch was over off went Zeb again.

He knew where
the cave was. He and Chad had spent bells poring over the map Chad
had been given by Baron Erik Halfarm.

He walked back
to where the Elda met, casual-like as he would have put it and
stopped beside an allst tree, not quite liking to step inside. He
had the feeling it wouldn’t be polite and even he felt that there
was something special about this place, a sense of peace going back
for eons.

His intuition
was correct. Lind appreciated good manners. As Zeb gazed, a Lind
trotted over.

“Dedta,” he
greeted Zeb

Zeb didn’t know
any Lindish so he bowed.

This show of
respect seemed to please the Lind. He wagged his tail.

“Would you like
to look around?” asked the Lind in reasonable Standard.

Zeb’s face
broke into a genuine smile.

“Oh yes, yes I
would.” He clapped his hands.

The Lind
grinned and Zeb stepped back. He had so many teeth! ‘All the better
to eat you with’ the phrase came unbidden into his mind as he
remembered his grandmother’s words as she told him his favourite
bed-time story when he had been a little boy.

“I will show
you,” said the Lind.

* * * * *

Zeb learned a
lot during Redei’s tour. He found out exactly where the cave was
located (the map had been slightly askew in terms of locations and
distances), where the paths ran to and from it, the positions of
the dugo bushes that grew around it and more importantly where the
entrance was. Redei was talkative, he was proud of the cave and he
told Zeb that inside there were many things, important things of
great significance. It was also not very large, Redei informed
him.

“Have you been
inside?” asked Zeb.

“No, but I do
not need to,” Redei answered.

Zeb took note
of the position-stances of the two Lind guards. Redei told him that
there were always two, night and day.

“Have you
guarded the cave?” asked Zeb.

“I have.” He
looked proud.

Zeb deduced
that it was a great honour to guard the cave of the Gtrathlin. He
also realised that to get into the cave the guards would have to be
lured away.

It shouldn’t
take him too long to get in there, find the box and get out again.
He wondered if Chad could make a diversion.

When Zeb told
Chad about what he had learned Chad decided that Zeb was right. It
had to be Zeb who went into the cave, he was light on his feet and
they did need a diversion.
Fire would be good
, he thought,
fire and a lot of noise
. He set his mind to planning how to
do it while Zeb prepared supper.

The following
morning, at the start of their last full day at the domta, Zeb
spent helping Chad at the stall; performing the tasks any trader’s
boy would perform, running to and fro on errands, keeping a wary
eye on the merchandise and acting as a porter if necessary. He did
it very well Chad had to admit, he was indistinguishable from the
other boys in the caravan.

They would
steal the box that evening.

* * * * *

When evening
came Chad insisted Zeb rest before they made their respective
moves. Zeb demurred a bit, he didn’t feel in the least tired but
after a short sleep had to admit he felt the better for it.

At last they
were ready. Zeb was dressed in black, but not black all over. He
wore old clothes, faded in places, with wash-stains and
country-marked, the best camouflage for flitting in and out of
trees in the dark.

He had a face
mask, all of wool with two holes for his eyes and a supple pair of
zarova leather gloves. He would put them on before he set out. On
his feet he was wearing a special pair of shoes, thin soled,
special because Chad had had them specially made for the job.

Once Nonder had
informed Chad that Zeb would be accompanying him on the trip Chad
had realised that Zeb would in all probability be the one who would
be entering the cave. He had had the shoes made in Stewarton once
he had taken the measure of the boy’s small feet.

Soft and
foot-hugging they were, they looked like dancer’s shoes but the
soles were imprinted (using quilted stitchery) with the pattern of
a Lind paw. Imitation chelas, made of jezdic teeth (the closest
Chad could find to a chela in shape) had been sewn on. As Zeb
walked, they would leave an imprint that would, unless scrutinised
be as close to a Lind paw print as possible.