fuel waiting. Charcoal and sulfur they had imported from far away, trading away their own wealth, with little yet to show for it.
Night covered the sun before the cruisers were loaded. The Reds made camp around the cruisers. When the vampires came, the cannon fired over the heads of Red sharpshooters. By dawn the vampire dead numbered forty or more.
Cruisers carried trade goods, and Vala made gifts; but forty vampire dead were what bonded these species together.
The third day carried them through Snowrunner’s Pass. The length of a daywalk varied by difficulty of the terrain, by altitude and slope and species; but Vala thought they’d covered two honest daywalks. They could reach the vampires’ refuge by midday tomorrow, if they were crazy enough to travel so directly.
In the morning Cruiser Two came rolling down. Warvia rode above the cannon housing, beneath a sheet awning.
Twuk called cheerily, “Waast! Is it so, that Snowrunner’s Pass is the easiest through the mountains?”
“When Reds and Ghouls agree, who can doubt?”
“Vampires think so, too!”
Cruiser Two was noisy with victory. Even Grieving Tube’s dark head lifted into the light, squinting, and grinned grotesquely before it sank back. Vala didn’t notice Warvia’s silence, then. Red Herders were rarely merry.
The din roused others. Vala saw wet black heads surfacing in a line along the shore. The River People came no farther, and Vala let them be, while Kay, Chit, Twuk, Paroom, Perilack, and Silack told their interwoven stories.
Kaywerbrimmis parked Cruiser Two on a knob of rock above the pass. The view was of unbroken clouds, not what Kay had hoped for, but he would wait. All had bathed in the streams they crossed, twice in three days. If they were not scentless, at least they’d tried.
(They weren’t scentless now, grinning and touching and word-wrestling to be next to speak. Vala could guess something of how the night had gone.)
Darkness flowed over them. Vampires began to stream through the pass. Grieving Tube, on watch, alerted the rest.
Cruiser Two’s heavy cargo, still piled in the pass, must have carried a scent. Kay sighted the cannon starboard of that point and waited. He killed twenty with three blasts.
The vampires left the pass empty for a while. Then they’d begun darting across. Kay’s passengers used the chance for target shooting, but otherwise let the vampires through. Bolts and bullets could be recovered, but not gunpowder.
They bunched up again later. Kay used the cannon again, and stopped almost at once. “They had prisoners, Vala. Big slow guys with big hands and big shoulders, wide-bodied women a head shorter, both of ‘em with yellow hair blooming out around their heads like mushrooms. Warvia saw them best. Warvia?”
Warvia roused herself. “We know the Farming People. Herbivores. They grow and tend root vegetables and keep animals, too, in partnership with Red Herder tribes who defend them. We didn’t see any Reds last night.”
Paroom: “They weren’t bunched up and they weren’t trying to escape. They were each with their own vampire, ah, companion. I couldn’t get a clear shot. We shot a few that didn’t have company—“
Twuk: “They sang at us. Grieving Tube played along. That scared them!”
Kay: “I couldn’t use the cannon because of the prisoners. Not that we were any help to them. What under the Arch would vampires want with prisoners?”
Tegger said, “Herds.”
He spoke almost absently; he was studying Warvia, who would meet nobody’s eyes. Still, it was an ugly thought. Double-ugly: it implied uncomfortably high sapience in vampires.
“The wind,” Kaywerbrimmis said, “was cold and wet and clean in our nostrils until the night was half gone. The vampires started crossing again, and these didn’t have prisoners. They ran. Maybe the smell of their own dead made them nervous. It was fine shooting. Then the wind shifted around and we smelled them, too.”
Grieving Tube was
Night covered the sun before the cruisers were loaded. The Reds made camp around the cruisers. When the vampires came, the cannon fired over the heads of Red sharpshooters. By dawn the vampire dead numbered forty or more.
Cruisers carried trade goods, and Vala made gifts; but forty vampire dead were what bonded these species together.
The third day carried them through Snowrunner’s Pass. The length of a daywalk varied by difficulty of the terrain, by altitude and slope and species; but Vala thought they’d covered two honest daywalks. They could reach the vampires’ refuge by midday tomorrow, if they were crazy enough to travel so directly.
In the morning Cruiser Two came rolling down. Warvia rode above the cannon housing, beneath a sheet awning.
Twuk called cheerily, “Waast! Is it so, that Snowrunner’s Pass is the easiest through the mountains?”
“When Reds and Ghouls agree, who can doubt?”
“Vampires think so, too!”
Cruiser Two was noisy with victory. Even Grieving Tube’s dark head lifted into the light, squinting, and grinned grotesquely before it sank back. Vala didn’t notice Warvia’s silence, then. Red Herders were rarely merry.
The din roused others. Vala saw wet black heads surfacing in a line along the shore. The River People came no farther, and Vala let them be, while Kay, Chit, Twuk, Paroom, Perilack, and Silack told their interwoven stories.
Kaywerbrimmis parked Cruiser Two on a knob of rock above the pass. The view was of unbroken clouds, not what Kay had hoped for, but he would wait. All had bathed in the streams they crossed, twice in three days. If they were not scentless, at least they’d tried.
(They weren’t scentless now, grinning and touching and word-wrestling to be next to speak. Vala could guess something of how the night had gone.)
Darkness flowed over them. Vampires began to stream through the pass. Grieving Tube, on watch, alerted the rest.
Cruiser Two’s heavy cargo, still piled in the pass, must have carried a scent. Kay sighted the cannon starboard of that point and waited. He killed twenty with three blasts.
The vampires left the pass empty for a while. Then they’d begun darting across. Kay’s passengers used the chance for target shooting, but otherwise let the vampires through. Bolts and bullets could be recovered, but not gunpowder.
They bunched up again later. Kay used the cannon again, and stopped almost at once. “They had prisoners, Vala. Big slow guys with big hands and big shoulders, wide-bodied women a head shorter, both of ‘em with yellow hair blooming out around their heads like mushrooms. Warvia saw them best. Warvia?”
Warvia roused herself. “We know the Farming People. Herbivores. They grow and tend root vegetables and keep animals, too, in partnership with Red Herder tribes who defend them. We didn’t see any Reds last night.”
Paroom: “They weren’t bunched up and they weren’t trying to escape. They were each with their own vampire, ah, companion. I couldn’t get a clear shot. We shot a few that didn’t have company—“
Twuk: “They sang at us. Grieving Tube played along. That scared them!”
Kay: “I couldn’t use the cannon because of the prisoners. Not that we were any help to them. What under the Arch would vampires want with prisoners?”
Tegger said, “Herds.”
He spoke almost absently; he was studying Warvia, who would meet nobody’s eyes. Still, it was an ugly thought. Double-ugly: it implied uncomfortably high sapience in vampires.
“The wind,” Kaywerbrimmis said, “was cold and wet and clean in our nostrils until the night was half gone. The vampires started crossing again, and these didn’t have prisoners. They ran. Maybe the smell of their own dead made them nervous. It was fine shooting. Then the wind shifted around and we smelled them, too.”
Grieving Tube was
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