flat and empty, drenched in an
aromatic honey-colored light. Reith asked, “What is to the west of us?”
“The West
Aman and the country of the Old Chasch. Then the Jang Pinnacles. Beyond are the
Blue Chasch and the Aesedra Bight.”
“To the
south?”
“The marshes.
The marsh men live there, on rafts. They are different from us: little yellow
people with white eyes. Cruel and cunning as Blue Chasch.”
“They have no
cities?”
“No. There
are cities there”-Traz made a gesture generally toward the north-”all ruined.
There are old cities everywhere along the steppes. They are haunted, and there
are Phung, as well, who live among the ruins.”
Reith asked
further questions regarding the geography and life of Tschai, to find Traz’s
knowledge spotty. The Dirdir and Dirdirmen lived beyond the sea; where, he was
uncertain. There were three types of Chasch: the Old Chasch, a decadent remnant
of a once-powerful race, now concentrated around the Jang Pinnacles; the Green
Chasch, nomads of the Dead Steppe; and the Blue Chasch. Traz detested all the
Chasch indiscriminately, though he had never seen Old Chasch. “The Green are
terrible: demons! They keep to the Dead Steppe. The Emblems stay to the south,
except for raids and caravan pillage. The caravan we failed to loot skirted far
south to avoid the Greens.”
“Where was it
bound?”
“Probably
Pera, or maybe to Jalkh on the Lesmatic Sea. Most likely Pera. North-South
caravans trade between Jalkh and Mazuun. EastWest caravans move between Pera
and Coad.”
“These are
cities where men live?”
Traz
shrugged. “Hardly cities. Settled places. But I know little, only what I have
heard the magicians say. Are you hungry? I am. Let us eat.”
On a fallen
log they sat and ate chunks of caked porridge and drank from leather flasks of
beer. Traz pointed to a low weed on which grew small white globules. “We’ll
never starve so long as pilgrim plant grows ... And see yonder black clumps?
That is watak. The roots store a gallon of sap. If you drink nothing but watak
you become deaf, but for short periods there is no harm.”
Reith opened
his survival pack: “I can draw water from the ground with this sheet of film,
or convert sea-water with this purifier ... These are food pills, enough for a
month .... This is an energy cell ... A medical kit ... Knife, compass,
scanscope ... . Transcom ...” Reith examined the transcom with a sudden thrill
of interest.
“What is that
device?” asked Traz.
“Half of a
communication system. There was another in Paul Waunder’s pack, which went with
the space-boat. I can broadcast a signal which will bring an automatic response
from the other set and give the other set’s location.” Reith pushed the Find button. A compass arrow swung to the northwest; a counter flashed a white 6.2
and a red 2. “The other set-and presumably the space-boat-is 6.2 times 10 to
the second, or 620 miles northwest.”
“That would
be in the country of the Blue Chasch. We knew that already.”
Reith looked
off to the northwest, ruminating. “We don’t want to go south into the marshes,
or back into the forest. What lies to the east, beyond the steppes?”
“I don’t
know. I think the Draschade Ocean. It is far away.”
“Is that
where the caravans come from?”
“Coad is on a
gulf which connects to the Draschade. Between is all of Aman Steppe, the Emblem
Men and other tribes as well: the Kite-fighters, the Mad Axes, the Berl Totems,
the Yellow Blacks and others beyond my knowledge.”
Reith
considered. His space-boat had been taken by the Blue Chasch into the
northwest. Northwest therefore seemed the most reasonable direction in which to
fare.
Traz sat
dozing, chin on his chest. Wearing Onmale he had demonstrated a bleak unrelenting
nature; now, with the soul of the emblem lifted from his own, he had become
forlorn and wistful, though still far more reserved than Reith thought natural.
Reith’s own
eyelids were drooping with
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