The Steel of Raithskar (27 page)

Enough of them had been legitimately concerned—at least originally—that the target for their threatened violence was still what it had been: Thanasset’s house. They were quiet, now, waiting. But they could be set off at any moment, and there were far too few of Zaddorn’s men to control them.

We need riot guns and tear gas
, I thought desperately. Then:
The hell we do! Didn’t I tell Thanasset that I liked his world better, where violence was a personal matter rather than a group activity? I’ll be damned if I’ll let this crowd of misguided fools prove me wrong!

They had quieted to listen to Zaddorn. But they heard from me first.

“How many of you,” I asked, using my best drill-sergeant voice, “know what this is all about?” I didn’t wait for an answer, but went right on. “I’d be willing to bet that most of you were on your way to the market, or to school, or back to work, when you saw a crowd starting here and came on over to see what was happening. Some people are angry, they say that a crime is going unpunished—maybe the people you talk to are
strangers
, even, and yet you accept their word for what has happened, and join in, adding to the noise and confusion.

“Well, I want you to
think
, now, about what you’re trying to accomplish. Does any of you, individually, want to kill me or my father?” There was a rumble, a couple of affirmative shouts that died when the shouters didn’t get immediate support from the people around them. “Then why,” I asked them, “would all of you want to do such a thing?

“Oh, you don’t want our deaths, you say?” I began to walk along the narrow rim of the wall. “All you want is justice? Fair punishment for whoever stole the Ra’ira? Well,
who made you the judges?
” I shouted at them.

“The theft of the Ra’ira is a crime against Raithskar. It’s especially a crime against the Council, and because Thanasset is
under suspicion
, the Council has suspended him until his involvement could be proved or disproved.

“This man,” I pointed back to where Zaddorn stood. He had placed himself with a hand against the wall of the house for stability when I started pacing. “This man has worn himself out looking for that proof. He has it. But he doesn’t owe it to
you.
You’re not concerned citizens of Raithskar—you’re a howling, mindless mob! Let him give his evidence to the Council, and let the Council judge us. Raithskar has thrived for generation after generation under the administration of the Council—give them your trust again. Let them decide.”

There was a restless movement and a murmur as they became people again instead of a crowd.

Then someone shouted: “Fine words from a man who turned a sha’um loose on us!” He had a point, and the crowd could see it. “And who will it be good for if we turn away now?
Him
, that’s who! He wants to save himself and his father. The Council will never rule against them! He said it himself—Thanasset’s been a Supervisor too long!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” said a voice from my right. The door of the house had opened quietly and Ferrathyn stood in front of it now, his slight old body clothed with dignity. The small porch was a couple of steps up from the street level; the crowd could see who it was.

“The Council will judge fairly, with the interest of Raithskar at heart. You know that Thanasset is an old and valued friend to me, but that would not stand in the way of any action, should be Council decide he is in any way to blame for the theft. If you have no faith of your own in the Council, then will you accept my personal guarantee that the matter will be decided according to the evidence, no matter what it may show?”

He’s got them
, I cheered to myself.
He’s turned the tide in our favor!

“I did not send Keeshah against you,” I said quietly. “You pressured him until he couldn’t be controlled. And surely, after seeing what he can do, you can have no doubt that I have returned to Raithskar willingly. I mean to stand beside my father as we face the Council’s judgment.”

“Now,” Zaddorn said at last, “all of you go on about your business. And be glad no one was seriously hurt. As soon as anything is decided, an official announcement will be made in the square. Now stop blocking up this street!”

They started to move. Zaddorn and I jumped down into the garden. Keeshah had long since gone into his house.

“You go in and join the others,” I told Zaddorn, who looked ready to fall over. “I’ll draw some water for Keeshah and come right in.”

He nodded wordlessly; we walked toward the back of the house and he turned left while I continued on toward the back buildings. Keeshah was already sound asleep on his ledge. I drew some water for him and spent a few seconds just standing near him. Then I went up to the back door of the house, comparing how I felt now with the way I had felt that first time.

I had been confused then, frightened of a world I didn’t understand, uncertain of my future here. I had a lot to learn, but I was gaining a feel for this world. Ricardo had made his own connections with the people Markasset knew; he had made
Ricardo’s
presence mean something in Gandalara.

I paused at the door, assimilating the way things had changed since that other time. While I hesitated, the door opened. Thanasset stood there, smiling a true welcome—for me, and not for Markasset. I was so touched that I couldn’t say a word.

But Thanasset, too, had seen the parallel.

“Don’t just stand there, son,” he said. “Come on in.”

With exaggerated care, I removed my baldric and hung it on one of the pegs beside the door. Thanasset laughed and slapped me hard on the back, then somehow he was hugging me, quick and hard.

I turned from him to the others, who were all standing in the great hall. Milda said, “Oh, Markasset!” and ran over to me. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted, swinging her around until she was breathless with laughter. Then I set her down and opened my arms to Illia.

“We’ve been so worried, darling!” she said, and rushed into my arms. Zaddorn or no Zaddorn, I let myself enjoy that kiss. Then, with one arm around the girl, I walked over to where Ferrathyn and Zaddorn were tactfully not watching us.

“Your timing was perfect, sir,” I told Ferrathyn. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, young man,” he said, a smile wreathing his face with more wrinkles. “You displayed a gift for oratory your father tells me he never suspected. Without your groundwork, my words would have had no effect.

“Zaddorn has just been giving me the evidence you spoke of. I have no doubts that the Council will reinstate your father with full pay for his missed time.” He shook his head. “It’s a frightening thing, the reappearance of mind-power in an ambitious man. Gharlas could make trouble for all of Gandalara.”

“What’s this?” asked Thanasset. “What about mind-power and Gharlas?”

Zaddorn repeated what Hural had told us for the others, who had been busy greeting me while he reported to the Chief Supervisor. Thanasset was horrified.

“And it was used on me? Without my knowledge? Great Serkajon, Ferrathyn, Gharlas must be impossibly strong.” He was pale. “You know, now that I know the truth, I almost wish I
had
forgotten to lock the filthy door!”

“You mustn’t feel that way, Fa—Thanasset,” Illia corrected hurriedly. “After all, this clears you of any blame. And it proves Markasset wasn’t involved, too, doesn’t it, Zaddorn? Doesn’t it?” she repeated when he didn’t answer immediately.

“Yes, Illia,” he said tenderly, and sighed. “I’d still give a week’s pay to find out just what did happen—where he got the money, why he was on the caravan in the first place (and under an alias at that), and why he wasn’t around by the time the Sharith attacked. But I’ve learned enough, about the theft and about our friend,” he said, waving a hand at me, “to convince me that he wasn’t involved in the theft. Unfortunately, that makes the rest of it none of my business. Oh, he might be chargeable for leaving his post on the caravan, but I doubt that Gharlas will be willing to confront him according to the law.

“So—yes, as far as the office of Peace and Security is concerned, Markasset’s name is clear.”

“Of involvement with the theft,” I corrected him.

“Isn’t that what I just said?” he asked.

“I
killed
a man on the way out of Raithskar,” I said, thinking:
If
they’ve forgotten, don’t remind them! Keep your mouth shut!
But I was too surprised to follow my own advice. “One of your officers.”

“One of my—” Zaddorn began. “You mean the man out back, don’t you?” He walked over and stood eye to eye with me. “Those men worked for Worfit.” He said it quietly, then waited a few seconds, staring at me closely. His words and his attitude were good news and bad news. I waited for the other shoe to drop.

“Markasset would know that all peace officers wear gray baldrics. Who are you?”

“Why—why, he’s Markasset, of course!” Illia said and tried to squeeze herself between us, defensively facing Zaddorn. I took her shoulders, stepped back a pace and turned her to face me.

“Illia, I’m sorry you had to find out about this so abruptly, but Zaddorn’s right. I’m not Markasset.” She put a hand to her mouth and began shaking her head, her dark eyes wide.

I heard a gasp behind her and I looked out at the others. Zaddorn had a calculating look on his face. Milda had made the sound: Thanasset had moved over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. He’d had some time to get used to the idea.

Ferrathyn’s face was so gray with shock that I was alarmed. But his sharp mind had worked it all out in a flash, and had come to the same conclusion Thanasset had reached. Only he had gone a step farther, and chosen a logical candidate for the alleged Visitor.

“Are—are you Serkajon?” he whispered.

“No!” I said hastily. “Oh, no.”
Don’t call me
“sir”, I thought again. “I’m—well, I’m nobody special.”

“Rikardon,” said Zaddorn. “The name you used in Thagorn?”

I nodded.

“Rikardon?” repeated Illia. “Then w-what happened to Markasset?”

“Please tell us,” begged Milda. “I know the boy had his problems, but—but his heart w-was good.” She looked tiny and frail in the circle of Thanasset’s arm.

I let go of Illia and walked over to take Milda’s hands. “Milda darling,” I said, and she made a little sobbing sound. “I have some of Markasset’s memories—not all. But some of the strongest and happiest concern you.” I reached down into Markasset’s memories and tried to separate the warm feeling for Milda into separate images. “The sound of your voice singing over the cookstove. The neat way you stitch when you’re mending things.” I smiled at a memory. “And you never complained when he teased you—did he really unravel your weaving every night for a half a moon?”

“Yes, he did, the scoundrel!” she said with a giggle. She glanced up at Thanasset and said, “I never told you about that, Thanasset—I was afraid you’d really get after the boy. But he unraveled
most
of what I’d done during the day. I went to the loom next day convinced I was crazy because I remembered doing more than I really had done. And once I caught him, I told him he could just learn to do what he’d undone. Your sleeping pallet was woven by your son!” She said it with such triumph that we all laughed and for a moment the tension was broken. Then she looked at me seriously again.

“Thank you for bringing back those happy memories, young man. I want to say that I have no fault to find with you—you’ve done a great thing for our family, and I’m grateful. But I—will Markasset—is he—?”

“I don’t know, Milda,” I said gently. “I don’t understand what has happened; it might
un
happen at any time and it might not.

“But I want you to believe something. I know how much Markasset loved you, and I love you, too.”

“Th-thank you,” she said in a shaking voice. I released her hands and she turned her face to Thanasset’s shoulder.

“What did happen?” Zaddorn asked.

I shrugged. “I woke up out in the desert with a lump on my head. Everything I know about Markasset—except, as I said, a few scattered memories—I’ve learned since then.”

“So you don’t have the answers either?”

“No. I can’t remember anything about the night the caravan left, or the night Gharlas disappeared. I can’t even remember what Gharlas looks like!”

“And were you,” Zaddorn asked in a low, tight voice, “going to marry Illia in Markasset’s place?”

“I felt an obligation to complete Markasset’s life, since I had somehow borrowed his body. That included keeping his promises.”

I walked back over to Illia, who was looking wildly from me to Zaddorn.

“But it’s different, now, dear,” I told her. “I expected to have to hide behind Markasset when we talked in the garden that day. It’s really better this way. I’d like to think that I’d have told you before the wedding, anyway, to give you a fair choice. Let’s just leave things for a while so you can get to know the person I really am. And take my advice—give Zaddorn another chance, too. We’ve been through a lot together these past few days. He’s a man I’d trust my back to.”

“I—oh, I’m so confused!” she wailed. She looked at Zaddorn steadily for a moment, then turned her dark eyes up to mine. “In the garden that day, and just now—it was
you
kissing me, not Markasset, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I’ll admit I appreciate Markasset’s taste, and maybe I took advantage just a little. But I don’t
know
you yet, and you don’t know me. Give it some time. Please.”

“Yes,” she said at last. “All right.”

“Thank you,” Zaddorn said, and came toward us, holding out his right hand. “This is your custom, but it’s one I like. Welcome to Raithskar, Rikardon.” I took his hand gratefully. “I hold nothing of Markasset against you,” he said. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’ll be rougher competition than he was.” He glanced at Illia, who lowered her eyes in sudden embarrassment. “But I’ll be trying harder.”

“Friends,” Thanasset drew our attention to him. He came over to me and put an arm around my shoulders. “I’m glad that there is no need of deception among us any longer. I have known about Rikardon since the day he returned to Raithskar from the desert. I saw no need to worry you, Milda,” he added.