donkeys were always recalcitrant about using the stones.
On the western side of the crag was a band of rock in which the immense spirals of ancient fossils stood out in rows. Thru had noticed them on the way up and been awed by their size and number.
"What are these things, Utnapishtim?" Thru asked, looking for something to take his mind off the pyluk.
"They are the shells of ancient squid, young Thru. Long ago they swam in the oceans in such abundance that their remains can be found all over the world, just like this."
"Squid don't have coiled shells."
"These were an ancient kind of squid. They long ago gave way to the shining little squid of today."
"And all this was at the bottom of the ocean?" said Meu with wonder in his voice.
"Yes, young Meu, all these rocks were formed from the seabed long ago. There is a great deal that we discern from the nature of the rocks. You shall study this, if you stay at Highnoth one more year."
Most of the small streams were dry, but the last one, the Exwem, was fed by a spring. The stream was low, but there was water enough for the donkeys to take a drink. This would be the last opportunity before they got back to White Deer, which was still a couple of hours farther on.
Thru took the opportunity to go off a short distance to relieve himself. The stream ran down the bottom of the rock strewn canyon between dense thickets of alder. He was soon completely alone. While he was there he watched an eagle in the distance, circling above the hill scanning the slopes below for rabbits. His father had told him how keen was the eagle's vision, and he chuckled at the thought that the eagle had probably seen him just as clearly as he had seen the eagle.
He hurried back and was working through the last stand of alders when he stopped with one foot still raised. A chill descended through him as he heard the harsh hisses and grunts of the pyluk tongue.
With his heart hammering in his chest he peered out through the stems of the alder. Four pyluk were pulling the gear off the donkeys, which were plainly terrified. But bucking and plunging did them no good. The pyluk had hold of their reins and were capable of holding them. Long spears were thrust into the ground nearby. There was no sign of the Assenzi, but Meu was visible, lying on the ground beyond the donkeys. He was not moving.
Another pyluk came into view from farther down the trail. He called to the four by the donkeys, who answered with hisses and guttural noises.
Thru stepped carefully back into the alders and crouched while he pulled his bow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow.
Five pyluk and six arrows with steel heads. It would be close work with little room for error. He wasn't even sure if a single arrow would be enough for pyluk. They were said to be hard to kill. He pulled the quiver around to rest on his hip and checked that his sword was loose in the scabbard. Then he moved forward again. He had to admit that he was afraid. One young mot against five grown pyluk was long odds. He took a deep breath, gathered himself, and looked out through the alder screen again. To his surprise the pyluk had gone off, taking the donkeys and Meu.
He followed along carefully behind them. There was no sign of any blood at the stream crossing. Nor was Utnapishtim's body visible. He checked for the slim, short tracks of the Assenzi but could not spot them in the churned dust left by donkeys and pyluk.
He could not tell if the Assenzi had gone ahead or gone back. There was no blood on the ground, so the pyluk had not speared either Meu or Utnapishtim, and Meu had not fired his bow, which had been discarded by the pyluk, who disdained the bow and arrow in favor of their long spears and throwing sticks.
The surprise must have been complete, he concluded. Somehow the Assenzi had failed to detect them in the twisted terrain of ridges and canyons.
Thru followed them back up the trail. He could not leave poor Meu in their hands. There was no time to
On the western side of the crag was a band of rock in which the immense spirals of ancient fossils stood out in rows. Thru had noticed them on the way up and been awed by their size and number.
"What are these things, Utnapishtim?" Thru asked, looking for something to take his mind off the pyluk.
"They are the shells of ancient squid, young Thru. Long ago they swam in the oceans in such abundance that their remains can be found all over the world, just like this."
"Squid don't have coiled shells."
"These were an ancient kind of squid. They long ago gave way to the shining little squid of today."
"And all this was at the bottom of the ocean?" said Meu with wonder in his voice.
"Yes, young Meu, all these rocks were formed from the seabed long ago. There is a great deal that we discern from the nature of the rocks. You shall study this, if you stay at Highnoth one more year."
Most of the small streams were dry, but the last one, the Exwem, was fed by a spring. The stream was low, but there was water enough for the donkeys to take a drink. This would be the last opportunity before they got back to White Deer, which was still a couple of hours farther on.
Thru took the opportunity to go off a short distance to relieve himself. The stream ran down the bottom of the rock strewn canyon between dense thickets of alder. He was soon completely alone. While he was there he watched an eagle in the distance, circling above the hill scanning the slopes below for rabbits. His father had told him how keen was the eagle's vision, and he chuckled at the thought that the eagle had probably seen him just as clearly as he had seen the eagle.
He hurried back and was working through the last stand of alders when he stopped with one foot still raised. A chill descended through him as he heard the harsh hisses and grunts of the pyluk tongue.
With his heart hammering in his chest he peered out through the stems of the alder. Four pyluk were pulling the gear off the donkeys, which were plainly terrified. But bucking and plunging did them no good. The pyluk had hold of their reins and were capable of holding them. Long spears were thrust into the ground nearby. There was no sign of the Assenzi, but Meu was visible, lying on the ground beyond the donkeys. He was not moving.
Another pyluk came into view from farther down the trail. He called to the four by the donkeys, who answered with hisses and guttural noises.
Thru stepped carefully back into the alders and crouched while he pulled his bow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow.
Five pyluk and six arrows with steel heads. It would be close work with little room for error. He wasn't even sure if a single arrow would be enough for pyluk. They were said to be hard to kill. He pulled the quiver around to rest on his hip and checked that his sword was loose in the scabbard. Then he moved forward again. He had to admit that he was afraid. One young mot against five grown pyluk was long odds. He took a deep breath, gathered himself, and looked out through the alder screen again. To his surprise the pyluk had gone off, taking the donkeys and Meu.
He followed along carefully behind them. There was no sign of any blood at the stream crossing. Nor was Utnapishtim's body visible. He checked for the slim, short tracks of the Assenzi but could not spot them in the churned dust left by donkeys and pyluk.
He could not tell if the Assenzi had gone ahead or gone back. There was no blood on the ground, so the pyluk had not speared either Meu or Utnapishtim, and Meu had not fired his bow, which had been discarded by the pyluk, who disdained the bow and arrow in favor of their long spears and throwing sticks.
The surprise must have been complete, he concluded. Somehow the Assenzi had failed to detect them in the twisted terrain of ridges and canyons.
Thru followed them back up the trail. He could not leave poor Meu in their hands. There was no time to
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