doorwayof a small house in a village far below the castle, and beat weakly on it. She felt at her last strength. If noone heard her or helped her, she would fall down here and lie there until Brynat’s men found her, or shedied.
But it was not more than a few moments until the door opened a cautious crack, and then motherly armsgrasped her and drew her inside and to a fire.
“Quick—bar the door, draw the curtain— damisela , where did you come from? We thought you dead in the siege, or worse! How did you get free? Evanda guard us! Your poor hands, your face— Reuel, you oaf, bring some wine, quickly, for our little lady.”
A few minutes later, drinking hot soup, her boots drawn off and her feet to the fire, wrapped in blankets,
Melitta was telling a little of her escape to a wide-eyed audience.
Page 40
“Lady, you must hide here until the search is quiet—” but their faces were apprehensive, and Melitta
said a swift “No. Brynat would surely kill you all,” and saw shamed relief in their eyes. “I can lie hidden in the caves up the mountain until darkness tonight; then I can get away to Nevarsin or beyond. But you can find me food to carry, and perhaps a horse that can face the passes.”
It was quickly arranged and by the time the day broke, Melitta rested, wrapped in furs and rugs in thelabyrinthine caves which had for centuries been a last hiding place of the Storns. For one day she wassafe there, since Brynat would surely search nearer places first; and by tonight she would be gone. It wasa long road to Carthon.
Exhausted, the girl slept, but the name tolled in her dreams— Carthon .
VII
«^»
BARRON had believed, on the journey from the Terran Zone to Armida, that he had seen mountains. True, his Darkovan escort had repeatedly called them foothills, but he had put that down to exaggeration,to the desire to see the stranger’s surprise. Now, half a day’s ride from Armida, he began to see that theyhad not exaggerated. As they came out of a miles-long, sloping pathway along a forested hill, he saw,lying before him, the real ranges. Cool purple, deep violet, pale grayed blue, they lay there fold on foldand height behind height, each successive fold rising higher and farther away, until they vanished in cloudydistances that might have been thunderheads—or further ranges.
“Good God,” he exploded, “we’re not going over the top of those , are we?”
“Not quite,” Colryn, riding at his side, reassured him. “Only to the peak of the second range, there.” He pointed. “The fire tower is on the crest of that range.” He told Barron its name in Darkovan. “But if you look far enough, you can see all the way back into the mountains, as far as the range they call the Wall Around the World. Nobody lives beyond there, except the trailmen.”
Barron remembered vague stories of various groups of Darkovan nonhumans. The next time theypaused to eat cold food from their saddlebags and rest the horses, he looked for Lerrys, who was stillthe friendliest of the three, and asked him about them. “Are they only beyond the far ranges? Or are therenonhumans in these mountains too?”
“Oh, yes. You’ve been on Darkover how long, five of our years, and you still haven’t seen any of our
nonhumans?”
“One or two kyrii in the Terran Trade Zone—from a distance,” Barron told him, “and the little furred people at Armida—I don’t know what you call them. Are there others? And are they all—well, if they’re nonhumans, I can’t ask, ‘are they human,’ but do they meet Empire standards for so-called intelligent beings—time-binding culture, viable language capable of transfer to other I.B.’s?”
“Oh, they’re all I.B.’s by Terran Empire standards,” Lerrys assured him. “The reason the Empire doesn’t deal with them is fairly simple. Humans here don’t have much interest in the Empire per se , but they are interested in other
But it was not more than a few moments until the door opened a cautious crack, and then motherly armsgrasped her and drew her inside and to a fire.
“Quick—bar the door, draw the curtain— damisela , where did you come from? We thought you dead in the siege, or worse! How did you get free? Evanda guard us! Your poor hands, your face— Reuel, you oaf, bring some wine, quickly, for our little lady.”
A few minutes later, drinking hot soup, her boots drawn off and her feet to the fire, wrapped in blankets,
Melitta was telling a little of her escape to a wide-eyed audience.
Page 40
“Lady, you must hide here until the search is quiet—” but their faces were apprehensive, and Melitta
said a swift “No. Brynat would surely kill you all,” and saw shamed relief in their eyes. “I can lie hidden in the caves up the mountain until darkness tonight; then I can get away to Nevarsin or beyond. But you can find me food to carry, and perhaps a horse that can face the passes.”
It was quickly arranged and by the time the day broke, Melitta rested, wrapped in furs and rugs in thelabyrinthine caves which had for centuries been a last hiding place of the Storns. For one day she wassafe there, since Brynat would surely search nearer places first; and by tonight she would be gone. It wasa long road to Carthon.
Exhausted, the girl slept, but the name tolled in her dreams— Carthon .
VII
«^»
BARRON had believed, on the journey from the Terran Zone to Armida, that he had seen mountains. True, his Darkovan escort had repeatedly called them foothills, but he had put that down to exaggeration,to the desire to see the stranger’s surprise. Now, half a day’s ride from Armida, he began to see that theyhad not exaggerated. As they came out of a miles-long, sloping pathway along a forested hill, he saw,lying before him, the real ranges. Cool purple, deep violet, pale grayed blue, they lay there fold on foldand height behind height, each successive fold rising higher and farther away, until they vanished in cloudydistances that might have been thunderheads—or further ranges.
“Good God,” he exploded, “we’re not going over the top of those , are we?”
“Not quite,” Colryn, riding at his side, reassured him. “Only to the peak of the second range, there.” He pointed. “The fire tower is on the crest of that range.” He told Barron its name in Darkovan. “But if you look far enough, you can see all the way back into the mountains, as far as the range they call the Wall Around the World. Nobody lives beyond there, except the trailmen.”
Barron remembered vague stories of various groups of Darkovan nonhumans. The next time theypaused to eat cold food from their saddlebags and rest the horses, he looked for Lerrys, who was stillthe friendliest of the three, and asked him about them. “Are they only beyond the far ranges? Or are therenonhumans in these mountains too?”
“Oh, yes. You’ve been on Darkover how long, five of our years, and you still haven’t seen any of our
nonhumans?”
“One or two kyrii in the Terran Trade Zone—from a distance,” Barron told him, “and the little furred people at Armida—I don’t know what you call them. Are there others? And are they all—well, if they’re nonhumans, I can’t ask, ‘are they human,’ but do they meet Empire standards for so-called intelligent beings—time-binding culture, viable language capable of transfer to other I.B.’s?”
“Oh, they’re all I.B.’s by Terran Empire standards,” Lerrys assured him. “The reason the Empire doesn’t deal with them is fairly simple. Humans here don’t have much interest in the Empire per se , but they are interested in other
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