Ambition and Alavidha (17 page)

Tanalya was the
Gtrathlin. She was old, even by the standards of the Lind, her coat
was pure white. Her mind was however, as sharp as it ever had been
and she had a quite astonishing ability to see through a problem
and to take steps to rectify it. In this she was very like Duke
Paul Hallam.

She heard Redei
out, outwardly calm but her heart was thrumming.

“Sure
definitely you are Redei?”

Redei was lying
on the ground in front of Tanalya’s front paws, ears flat; in the
most submissive and apologetic pose Tanalya had ever seen (and she
had seen a lot during her hundred and sixty seasons).

“I am,” Redei
replied, “the box is a different box. It is not the one Haru the
Lai gave us to guard.”

“I see,”
answered Tanalya. She did not doubt Redei’s news was true. If he
said the box was gone then gone it was. “Do you have any idea when
it was taken and by whom?”

“We have
discussed it My Gtrathlin and we are resolved that we cannot tell
you of the when. The person who took it replaced it with another
and it was only when, at your bidding, we entered your cave to look
for the items Susa Freya asked us to look for that we realised it
was not the box it should have been. We are sorry.”

“The blame is
not to you. We must not worry about what cannot be changed. Instead
we must concentrate on finding the box. It has not been moved to
another place within the cave?”

Redei’s answer
was answer enough. He and the other guards had searched the cave
from top to bottom, left to right again and again but to no avail.
The box was gone.

“I will look
myself,” said Tanalya as she got to her paws but it was obvious to
Redei that she did not think she would be able to find it either.
“We must assume however that you are correct. We must consider the
question of who has taken it.”

“There have
been two trade caravans this season,” said Redei, “and other humans
too.”

They knew that
the thief would have to have been a human. A Lind would have been
physically incapable of lifting any box out of the cave. Moving it
yes, carrying it, no.

“The humans of
the trade caravans are the most likely,” agreed Tanalya, “but the
theft might have happened before the humans you speak of came and
we did not realise. We must try to remember others who have visited
our domta. The taking must have been planned. The humans must have
been looking for it; humans ask questions when they want to know
things. They will have questioned one or some of us; simple
questions which we Lind have answered, not realising why we were
being asked. Drinan and Kathya for example, they are in charge of
the area where the humans put their dagas when they come here. The
human we seek will questions have asked, even as far back as many
seasons ago.”

“I will ask
Kathya. She will remember.”

“Ask
everylind,” Tanalya instructed, “even the ltsctas.”

That last word
joggled Redei’s memory.

“There was a
ltscta, a human ltscta, in the last caravan. The caravan of
Drellor. He asked a great many questions.”

“All ltsctas
ask a great many questions. It is how they learn. Even though you
ask, do not pay too much attention to the questions and answers of
the very young Redei. This is a theft planned and done by those who
carry more than a few seasons on their paws.”

“Yes My
Gtrathlin,” said Redei,” but that one had a very old head on a
young body. I will make enquiries about him too.”

* * * * *

When questioned
Drinan and Kathya remembered many visitors who had visited during
the previous seasons.

“Almost too
many to count,” said Drinan to Redei. “There were the trade
caravans for a start, but Kathya tells me she sensed nothing
unusual in any of the traders but there
was
that man last
summer, said he was a notary. Kathya suspected he might be one of
these prospectors that are always roaming around. Haven’t seem that
particular one since though and they usually pop in at least once a
year. He
might
be a possibility. Actually it was me and
Kathya who showed him around. I don’t recall him asking any
questions. Seemed a decent enough chap if a little withdrawn.”

“Any person
else?” asked Redei.

Drinan shook
his head.

Kathya butted
into the conversations and asked, “have you thought that perhaps
the fire in the Holad and the bangs in the fires might be connected
with the theft?”

“Firecrackers,”
Drinan corrected, “but she may have a point. Both might have been
started as diversions, to get our attention while the someone went
into the cave to steal the box.”

“The guards
did
report that they had gone to investigate,” mused Redei,
“but they weren’t away long.”

“Wouldn’t take
long if the thief knew what he was looking for.”

“There were no
tracks,” said Redei,” no human prints.”

“Are you sure?
Absolutely sure?”

“Yes. None at
all.”

“Then I don’t
know then,” said Drinan, “it’s a mystery and no mistake.”

* * * * *

-16-

THE NORTH
CARAVAN ROUTE

“Blast and
double blast it,” Chad cursed in Zeb’s ear, “but this is going to
delay us.”

“Master Drellor
can’t help it if a horse goes lame,” Zeb answered, in a low murmur.
“It won’t delay us long. He said we’d be able to set out again come
morning. Anyways, what’s the hurry?”

“I’m feeling a
mite edgy,” admitted Chad, “It’s all gone so well so far. No
pursuit yet but the longer we are delayed the more chance there
is.”

“Can’t do
nothin’ about it,” was Zeb’s un-soothing comment. “As my
grandmother allas said, what will be will be.”

“Such
philosophy from one so young,” Chad retorted, “still, you may be
right.”

“We’re still
safer staying with Drellor,” said Zeb, “that hasn’t changed. If
they’ve found out the box is gone they’re gonna be looking for
someone riding fast away, not here. Anyways, I’m sure enjoying the
trip, nice change from back home.”

Chad growled,
still not quite reconciled to the enforced delay.

There was a
moments silence then Zeb opened his mouth.

“Chad? What’s
philosophy?”

Chad groaned.
Zeb was the most curious person he had ever come across.

Why me?
he asked himself.

* * * * *

-17-

THE UNIVERSITY–
STEWARTON - ARGYLL

“I’ll see to
the lights,” said the head librarian, a fussy little man Thalia
would have recognised as he unlocked the door and led Artem
inside.

Artem almost
gagged. The room was as musty as sin; that indefinable smell that
spoke of little use and lackadaisical and infrequent cleaning,
coupled with the aroma of old paper and parchment. He managed to
turn the gag into a cough.

“Not many come
in here,” apologised the old man. He wasn’t coughing and Artem
supposed that he was used to it.

“I can
understand that,” said Artem, looking around. It was very dark.

“It doesn’t
have any windows you see,” continued the librarian, “helps keep the
collections in good condition. Some of them are very old. Now what
exactly are you looking for Vadeln Artem, perhaps I can help?”

“I’m interested
in any papers dating from the beginning of the seventh century,”
replied Artem, “the decade of the Dglai Wars and perhaps to about
twenty or so years after.”

“We’ll look in
the book,” his guide informed him, “it’s the book which lists every
item added to the collection, in the chronological order of when it
arrived.”

He shuffled
over to one of the shelves and took down a dusty volume. Placing
his lamp to one side and opening it on the table he began turning
the pages, peering over what Artem assumed were lists, page by
page.

“Now let me
see,” the old man muttered, “AL 598, too early.” He turned another
few pages, still muttering to himself, “AL 605, right, here it is,
next page.”

“I’m looking
for any additions to the collection provided by a Professor Angus
specifically,” said Artem.

“The brilliant
mathematics professor, yes, yes,” the librarian’s head was bobbing
up and down, “yes, yes indeed.”

“Is there
anything?”

The old man
turned the page and began to read, one bent forefinger rubbing
along the lines of entries. At last his finger stopped moving.

“Here it is, It
says ‘PC’, I don’t know what that means, ‘WCCS
Argyll
’. Is
this what you’re looking for?”

“It might be,”
Artem replied, “I won’t know until I take a look at it. Can you
find it for me?”

His guide
looked affronted at the question, aggrieved and testy.

“I can find
absolutely
any
thing in this collection,” he boasted, “as
long as I know where to look. It must be papers, it’s in drawer
number sixteen.”

Picking up his
lamp he went over to where Artem assumed drawer sixteen was. There
was a click and Artem watched as a large shallow drawer opened.

“Hold the light
closer,” the librarian ordered and Artem lifted his lamp high to
illuminate the drawer’s contents. His guide began flicking through
the items. He grunted when he reached the bottom of the pile and
began again. His angry face gleamed up at the watching Artem.

“It’s not
here,” he exploded, “this is intolerable, quite intolerable!”

“Could it have
been placed in another drawer?”

A shake of an
untidy grey haired head answered Artem’s question but he added,
“too big. As you can see, drawer sixteen is twice the size of all
the others. It’s the biggest we have. If it was put there in the
first place it means that its pages were too large for any of the
others. Someone has stolen it!”

“Any way you
could find out who had looked in drawer sixteen recently?”

“Well,” the old
man pondered, “no, but we do keep a record of every student, member
of staff and visitor who comes in here.”

“I would like
to see that.”

The old man
closed the drawer and looked round the room, tut-tutting to
himself. “I must send in some assistants to make sure it is indeed
missing and it has definitely not been misplaced. I’ll have his or
her vuz for garters if it has, we never fold old documents.”

“A bit of
dusting might not come amiss either,” said Artem.

* * * * *

In the main
office of the library the old man handed him the visitor’s
book.

“Goes back
thirty years,” he told him, “will that be enough?”

Artem nodded,
looking round until he spied a vacant desk. “I’ll go sit over there
and take a dekko.”

“Right. Let me
know if there’s anything else I can do for you. I’ll be around
arranging a full search of the room. Why! There might be any number
of items gone and we never knew. Quite intolerable.”

And with that
he bustled away, every inch the picture of an indignant cat.

* * * * *

Artem began
with the most recent entries and worked back.

He saw that
each visitor was required to enter his or her name, their
occupation, their address and their reason for wishing to visit.
One or two had even written down the actual document or documents
they intended to examine.

: Any luck?
:
asked Larya, who was waiting for him in the foyer in front of
a large number of admiring students and not a few members of
staff.

: Not so far.
All looks pretty innocent to me. Most of them are Professor This or
Professor That or students doing research. I’m done with this year.
Now for AL 807 :

It was as he
was finishing AL 807 and preparing to go back to AL 806 when Artem
thought he might have found what he was looking for.

An outsider’s
name had been a rarity on the pages he had perused so far and here
was a name of someone not connected to the university. He came from
outside the country too. A visitor from the islands if what he was
reading was to be believed, by name John Smith. The hairs on the
back of Artem’s neck began to prickle.

Couldn’t he
have found a more original alias? Wonder who he really was.
Galliard too. Why would someone from Galliard wish to look up
something in the collection? Can’t think of any reason. Personal
research too, could be anything.

The reason? It
covered a multitude of sins and Artem rather thought he had found
the person who had purloined Professor Angus’s donation.

He did go back
to AL 805 but found no other names which piqued his curiosity so
much.

He closed the
book, thanked the old librarian for his courtesy and help and after
trying to ascertain who had been on desk duty that day, he had no
luck there and no-one present remembered the island visitor. He
left the building after securing the promise that if the papers
turned up then a message would be sent to him.

Via Larya’s
telepathic link, Artem reported his findings to the Susalai of the
Avuzdel.

A message from
the old man never arrived.

* * * * *

-18-

THE WESTERN
COAST - THE NORTHERN CONTINENT

As they waited
for the Holad to arrive, Thalia busied herself with her patient,
growing increasingly worried about his vital signs, which were
indeed weak.

Daniel Ross sat
sunk in misery beside the fire. He wasn’t really aware of his
surroundings.

At least we
didn’t reach Dagan,
he was thinking
, international incident
averted I think Father would say but what a way to do it.