Old Mars

“Tut, tut,” said the voice of Nightwall Dair. “I see that the hand of immediate karma appears to have touched you. How ironic.” He bent down and touched something cold and damp to the side of my neck, and suddenly I could move again. “I really should try to get over these disastrous impulses toward compassion. Never does me any good … Especially after what happened earlier.” He helped me to my feet. His wrists were raw.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. I wouldn’t say that I felt abashed, precisely, but there was a slight element of the embarrassment I’d hoped to avoid earlier. Why I should have felt this way, I don’t know: It must have been a professional thing.

“So, where is she? The girl?”

“The sorcerer from Ithness took her.”

Dair swore. “I thought so. Bastard. Are you on a finders’ fee?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yes, from a lord in Cadrada who took a fancy to her. One of Halse’s rivals. I know who you are now, by the way. A man named Thane. Or a woman named Peace. I recognize you from Halse’s palace. You were a dancer. Among, it seems, other things.”

“I’m not sure it matters.”

“We stand more chance of tracking her down together. I don’t need the hassle of your interference, and I know this sorcerer; we’ve got a history.”

“Very generous of you. I know him, too. We have a history. You could, of course, just kill me.”

Dair looked pained. “I don’t work that way. We can sort out the money later.”

I knew that he had no intention of splitting it: He just wanted to keep an eye on me and perhaps get my help. But that was fine for the moment.

With me up behind Dair on his black tope, we tracked them as far as the edge of the plain, then lost the trail. The tope stood, swinging its head in indecision. Since the sorcerer had stolen my mount, I wondered what he’d done with his own. Maybe the lizard-thing was still roaming around the place.

“Might as well camp up for the night,” Dair said, philosophically.

“I’m still not up for ‘companionship.’ ”

“Now that I’ve found out you’re a woman, actually, neither am I.”

We took turns keeping watch. It was a quiet enough night, although for a time I heard sounds out on the plain suggesting the Tribes were having another jamboree. Dair woke me at dawn, handed me a leather cup of tea, and told me that we were getting going. I was quick enough to agree. I wanted to get out of tribal lands, before the priestess—Hafyre’s aunt—discovered that we were still on her patch and sent her warriors out against us.

We’d gone far enough west already that by the time evening fell, we were back in Scarlight, and I was surprised to find how much I’d missed the place. At least, compared to the Cold Deserts.

We found a bar to sit out the early evening in a corner booth. I thought that the sorcerer, having presumably dealt with Hafyre’s aunt, might come back through Scarlight. If he still lived. Whatever the case, I was resigned to Hafyre’s loss. But by that time, I was also looking forward to a sweat lodge, and wine.

“You’re quite attractive now you’re not covered in filth,” Dair said when I reappeared. I gritted my teeth. I was likely to get more attention as Zuneida than I had as the anonymous Thane, so I’d kept the mask on, rendering his remark even more irritating.

“I thought you didn’t like women.”

“I like some women. Just not for sex.” He glanced around at the men in the bar.

“Trust me, that’s refreshing.”

“So,” Dair said, primly. He poured me a glass of Ylltian white and watched as I took a sip. If he’d been going to poison me, I thought, he’d have done so earlier. “You’ve had a varied career.”

“You noticed.”

“Whereas I’m more single-track. I’ve always been a bounty hunter, ever since I was a young man. Followed in my uncle’s footsteps.”

“You’re from Cadrada?”

“I’m from a lot of places. I was born in a desert village. Didn’t have a name, it was too little. I got out on a barge down the Grand Canal and never went back. You?”

“Cadrada, but I don’t know who my parents were. Brought up on the edge of the court, by a variety of people, then into the temple as a dancer. They used me to seduce visiting aristocracy. Reliable enough work.” And it paid for my poetry, but I didn’t really want to tell Dair that; I thought it might make me seem less threatening.

“Easier than bounty hunting.”

“Only sometimes. Anyway, I wanted to travel.” I was trying to be philosophical about Hafyre’s loss, and failing. This is why one should never mix business and personal matters.

Dair was scanning the room behind me; he’d seen something, but I didn’t want to draw attention by looking round. “I can understand that.”

“This is decent wine,” I said, loudly. “Want some more?”

His eyes remained on the back of the room. “Whatever you say, my friend.” His free hand traced a couple of sigils on the tabletop: northwest, leaving. Then he stood. “There’s a back way out behind the kitchen.”