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in one of the pouches.
I wiped off as much of the gunk from my fingers as I could on burlap grain
sacking, then heaved a huge sigh and picked up the tassels. "It gets worse," I
informed the gelding.
I had considered trading him in for a darker horse, but I decided against it
for two reasons.
First, he had truly smooth gaits and Del, wounded, might need them; second, he
was Del's pick for a mount. I'd learned from experience not to discard any
number of items she'd selected for whatever reason, even if I considered them
worthless, because she always eventually found a use for them. (Or said she
would.) Even if it meant packing them along for months at a time, taking up
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space. In her own way, Del was as much a collector of unique things as Umir,
except she at least didn't collect humans.
Unless you count the men who lose all control of their brains at first sight
of her. We'd probably have a goodly collection trailing along after us,
annoying the hoolies out of me, if I
didn't run them off.
So I kept the gelding. Who stood very still and obliging as I looped the
string of tassels from ear to ear, tucking the ends under the browband of the
headstall.
I stepped back and appraised him. Now he had two black patches around blue
eyes and an ear-to-ear loop of brilliant red tassels dangling down his face. I
gazed at him a long moment perched somewhat painfully between outright
laughter and stoic resignation, then with great sympathy patted his nose.
"Don't worry we're leaving town the back way."
It was still early as we rode out of Julah, and I was certain that by taking
the shorter route through Vashi territory I could cut a fair amount of time
off the journey. If all went well, I
would see Del before sundown. So I looked for and finally found the almost
nonexistent wagon ruts cutting off from the main road into town, reflected I'd
better make speed now while the footing was decent, and asked the gelding to
once again resume the walk-trot-lope routine.
Tassels swung and bobbled.
Del and I had been in no hurry before. Now I was. By asking more of the
gelding when the footing was decent and letting him drop into a ground-eating
long-walk at other times, in good time I located the spot where Oziri and his
three warriors had appeared. Here the footing was rocky, and I couldn't in
good conscience ask the gelding to do more than walk at a slower pace.
I'd watered him twice already, and myself, but still felt the warmth of the
sun. Within a matter of weeks it would be high summer.
I bypassed the detour to the clearing where Del and I had gotten drunk on
Vashni liquor, and found the dry streambed. I dropped down into it, following
the left bank. Eventually I
came across the leather bag I'd dropped off the stud in an effort to evade the
rank stench of spoiling sandtiger meat. The bag had been chewed and clawed
open. Someone or several someones had enjoyed a good meal.
I exited there, trading sand for stone drifts, broken rock, and hardpan.
Riding in, we hadn't concerned ourselves with marking our route. Now I
depended only on my recollection of those things I'd considered landmarks,
such as a tree with a twisted limb or a spill of rocks forming a shape that
caught my eye. During that ride I'd been studying wagon ruts, but the land
rose steadily toward the massive rock formations thrusting upward in the dis-
tance, and so long as I headed in that general direction, I knew I'd find the
plateau.
I followed my inner sense of direction with a pervasive sense of increasing
urgency. As
Umir's prisoner, I'd been helpless; and I'd learned years before that when I
could do nothing, it was best for mind and body to wait until opportunity
presented itself. Now I was free, and the only thing keeping me from finding
Del was the time it took me to reach her. I wanted to shorten that as much as
was humanly possible.
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As the route began to slope up toward the plateau, I asked the gelding's
forbearance and put him into a long-trot; farther on, as the trail steepened
to wind up to the tree-edged top, I gave him his head and asked for a lope.
Hindquarters rounded as he dug into the incline, grunting with the effort.
I leaned toward his neck, shifting weight forward. "Not so far," I murmured.
"Just a little farther." But I wasn't certain if it was the gelding I
encouraged or myself.
As he topped out with one gigantic bunching leap over the lip of the plateau,
I reined in, kicked free of my right stirrup and dropped off even as the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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