第2节

to the trading post once a year. To return via this route

meant boarding the right vessel at exactly the right moment. The

cloud-warrior was resourceful enough to gather this information but

what if they missed the boat? Or escaped much earlier and were unable

to take the longer but safer way home?

Mr Snow's dilemma arose from his desire to be at the chosen point of

arrival in case his powers were needed to fight off any pursuers. For

they would be pursued.

That was certain. Over the years of trading, he had come to understand

the character of the Iron Masters and their obsession with 'face', what

the Mutes called 'standing'. Because of the status accorded to

warriors, it was a concept the two races shared, but not to the same

degree. Mutes generally nursed their shattered pride then gave it

another shot. To the Iron Masters, loss of face was an unbearable

condition which, if the victim's sense of honour could not be regained,

often led to suicide. This concern with honour, impeccable behaviour

and faultless performance of one's duties only affected the pure-blood

ruling classes; the lower orders - the inferior races - were not graced

by such concerns. Which, according to his informant, explained why the

gods had condemned them to a life of servitude.

Yes... Given the nature of Cadillac's mission, their escape would cause

a definite loss of face, and the authorities concerned would spare no

effort to recapture them.

Failure to do so would cause heads to roll. Mr Snow who knew nothing

of the mayhem the trio had caused at the Heron Pool - was unaware that

in its bloody aftermath a great many already had. He only knew the

Iron Masters were tenacious adversaries who did not admit defeat. That

was why he had to be on hand in case they pursued his young charges

into the heartland of the Plainfolk.

But he could not be in two places at once and he could no longer

hesitate. He now had less than a week in which to make his decision.

Perhaps the Sky Voices would consent to guide him. He had consulted

them many times during the past year but they had greeted his questions

about Clearwater, Cadillac and the cloud-warrior with a baffling

silence. He clambered up to his favourite rock, sat down with his legs

crossed, took several deep breaths while he admired the view, then

raised his closed eyes and opened his mind to the sky.

For a long while it seemed as if the staff of this spiritual advice

bureau was out to lunch but eventually a series of pictures appeared

before his inner eye. Soul-searing images of death and destruction on

an unparalleled scale; a grisly drama in which he had been given a

starring role.

Mr Snow was renowned for his courage and resolution but even his

indomitable heart quailed at this new burden that Fate had thrust upon

him. And what made it worse was the knowledge that these fleeting

images were merely a foretaste of what was to come. But there could be

no turning back. The Sky Voices had spoken - and had left him in no

doubt as to what he had to do.

Some two thousand miles to the east of the M'Call settlement, Ieyasu,

Lord Chamberlain of the Inner Court, grand-uncle and principal advisor

to the Shogun Yoritomo Toh-Yota, absolute ruler of Ne-Issan, was also

beset by problems that demanded resolution.

If Mr Snow was old, Ieyasu was ancient, but they had many qualities in

common including keen eyes and fire in their belly. Both were shrewd,

highly intelligent and infinitely wise in the ways of the world even

though the societies in which they lived were totally dissimilar except

for their respect of physical courage and the code of honour which

formed the basis of the warrior ethos.

Mr Snow could not read or write but possessed gifts of memory and

magic: Ieyasu was literate, extremely well educated and although he was

unable to summon earth and sky forces to his aid, the skill and cunning

with which he outmanoeuvred all those who sought to remove him from