第73节

the River of Time

towards the infinite horizons of the Sea of Eternity.

When Blue-Thunder finally kissed and cleaned his knife, eighteen Bears

lay dead. Some twenty more were wounded but could walk and would

recover with the help of Mr Snow. The warriors began to gather wood to

make a large funeral pyre whose rising flames would carry the departing

spirits up beyond the clouds to where Mo-Town waited with the Cup of

Life held in her outstretched hands.

While the pyre was being built, Steve waded out until he was neck deep

then swam some twenty yards to retrieve the female mex. He dumped her

slim body on the beach. That left the pregnant woman and two males to

be accounted for. As he turned away, a passing Bear straddled the

corpse, turned it face down, took hold of its arms and pulled it up

into a kneeling position. A second unsheathed his machete, seized the

wet hair on the crown of the head to extend the neck and cut through it

with two swift blows.

The eighteen Bears were piled in three layers interleaved with lengths

of wood; leafy branches were stacked around the sides. As the flames

took a firm hold, the warriors circled the pyre singing a defiant chant

that reflected the valour of the dead who had gone to join the past

heroes of the clan M'CalI.

Blue-Thunder turned to Steve, his lumpy features heavy with grief. He

gestured towards the bodies of Deep-Six and Mustachio. 'You fight

well, Cloud Warrior."

'Not as well as my sky-brother, Blue-Thunder."

'The Mute shook his head and sighed heavily. 'This is a bad day. I

cannot fight men who wrap themselves in smoke. Where is the honour in

that?"

'There is none,' replied Steve. 'We were misled. You offered the pipe

to those with false faces. These were not true red-skins. They were

sand-burrowers. They do not respect the ways of the Plainfolk."

'The sand-burrowers have powerful sharp iron. Did you know of these

things that speak like earth-thunder?"

'I have heard talk,' admitted Steve. 'Today the truth was written in

the blood of the Bears."

Blue-Thunder growled angrily. 'The sand-burrowers tread with poison

feet. They sow death in the earth.

They send fire from the sky and now they turn the land against us.

These are bad things. The wind that bears you aloft is the breath of

Talisman, the earth his body, the sun and moon his eyes, the thunder

his voice, the rivers his blood. The crimes that those without courage

commit against the world violate his sacred being. This insult must be

avenged."

Steve acknowledged this with a grave nod. 'I also would be avenged.

The sand-burrowers bring me dishonour in your eyes. Let me bring you

their heads."

As he mulled over the proposition, Blue-Thunder looked past Steve

towards the cluster of small islands.

'How can you cross the big water? Will you not sink like a stone?"

'No, I shall wriggle through it like a snake."

'When will you go?"

'When night comes."

The Mute looked impressed. 'You have true power."

Steve was not about to disillusion him. Like all Trackers, he had been

taught to swim in underground pools as part of the daily programme of

physical training.

He was about to become one of the very few to put the skill to

practical use. How odd, he reflected, that the Mutes hadn't bothered

to learn how to swim. But then, in the same thousand years, they

hadn't built boats either, despite their contact with the Iron

Masters.

And they had other odd ideas - like preferring to sleep out in the open

rather than under the trees of a forest, and there was the whole

business of Talisman, Mo-Town and the Sky Voices. A year ago he had