Haydn of Mars by Al Sarrantonio Page B

the area so that it looked as though they had never been there.
    â€œOrdinarily,” the Mighty explained to me after this was done, “we would leave a mound so that the Sun could find the spot, but since we are being followed this cannot be done.   For the next three days during Noon service we will remind the sun of her location.”   He looked up at the small golden yellow coin in the sky.   “He will not forget.   She had her faults, but she was a good woman.”
    He looked at me curiously.
    â€œWhat is it you believe, Ransom?”
    â€œYou mean my religion?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThat is a difficult question to answer.”
    â€œOn the contrary, it is the easiest question to answer.”
    â€œI was brought up to believe in the One,” I replied.   “But sometimes it has been difficult to believe even in that.”
    â€œWhy so?”   He looked genuinely puzzled.
    â€œBecause of the way things are.”
    â€œYou mean the evil in the world?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAll the more reason to believe in something.   Even if it is only the silliness of one god.”
    â€œPerhaps you are right.”
    â€œWe will speak of these things again, but now we will hide, and then tonight we will travel.   And we will continue to travel tonight, and hide by day, until we are out of danger.”
    â€œI had no idea you had built hiding spots,” I said.
    I saw for the first time since that morning a little of his humor return.   “Oh, I am full of surprises, Ransom.”
    â€œYes, you are,” I said to myself as he strode away, and I beheld the five bodies of F’rar he had captured and killed, then hung head down and naked on long poles on a distant hill to tell his enemy that he could not win.

Six
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    A month passed.   Even though we approached the equator it grew colder, due to the changing of seasons.   In effect, the southern winter was overtaking us.
    I learned to wear their clothes, out of necessity.   I became accustomed to their ways.   My back had healed, and Myra’s ministrations were the cause.   I knew she was proud of her work.   A taut understanding, if not respect, had grown between us.   Occasionally I still saw daggers in her eyes – but I had yet to see one in her paw.
    I puzzled over her relationship with the Mighty.   In the past weeks we had been joined by others of the Mighty’s clan.   Often they appeared at night, like wraiths.   More than once I had awakened in the morning to find that our camp had doubled in size during darkness.   Among these newcomers were others of the Mighty’s harem.   I awoke one morning to discover that one of the younger wives had managed to crawl into my bed undetected and slept beside me.   And she snored!   Which may have made it much more an indication of the ease I felt in this camp, that I would sleep so deeply.
    My belly grew.   It grew inexorably, and I could feel the life within me.   By the movements and occasional kicks, I determined that there were at least two kits, possibly more.   I know I glowed, because those around me glowed when they looked at me.
    The Mighty maintained his polite but intense interest in me.   I knew that he had sent spies hither in yon in search of my identity, but never did he reveal any of this, or what they might have found, to me.   He was a very shrewd card player, even if I had to explain to him what card games were.
    â€œWe have no need for this rubbish,” he said, throwing down his hand of Jakra the first time I tried to teach him.   It was a cool evening, and fires had been permitted.   We had seen no signs of the F’rar in nearly two weeks.   But I knew the Mighty had eyes out there, watching, listening.
    I laughed, and showed him my own winning hand: three Vestas, the figure of a broad old feline with abundant whiskers staring seriously out