Reclamation(144)
“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Cam. Stabilize the ship’s condition as much as possible. Repair the comm lines and monitor transmissions. And”—he ran his hand through his hair—“wait until you hear from me.”
“Yes, Sar,” said the android. Its feet made swishing noises in the damp sand as it climbed back into the crater and aboard the fallen U-Kenai and released the catch holding the outer door back.
The door slid down and clanged shut.
Eric turned quickly away. “I’m ready.”
“Very well.” Arla checked her pouch of stones to see that it was firmly knotted. She glanced at the walls again to pick her direction. “Let’s go.”
Side by side they tramped up the beach. They passed salt-crusted hollows filled with miniature versions of the sea. Nothing else broke up the landscape between the dunes and the waterline until Arla heard the faint gurgle of a running river.
Smiling with quiet satisfaction, she angled her path inland until they climbed over a stony dune. On the other side, the Eel Back ran swift and shallow into the Dead Sea. Its winding path cut a swath through the dunes and would, Arla knew, open into the sprawl of the Lif marshes.
She glanced over at Eric, who hadn’t said a word since they’d started. She’d been content to let him be quiet, thinking he needed time to adjust to the fact that he had returned. Now she saw that his eyes seemed to be sunken, looking inside rather than out.
He’s closed himself up as far as he can, she thought.
She touched his arm wordlessly and he gripped her hand. For a moment they stood like that. He didn’t even look at her, he just took what strength she had to give. Did he know that her heart was wringing inside her? She did not want to be divorced, she did not want to lose her children, and yet she did not want to leave him.
At last, he let her go and she was able to shove her torn emotions down under a layer of practical considerations. She led him down the dune to the side of the Eel Back and they started walking in silence again.
With the influx of fresh water that the river provided, the landscape changed drastically. Before an hour had passed, they were wading through a mix of brown reeds and knee-high grass. When they stopped to share a packet of ration squares, they were able to rest in the shade of a cluster of Crooker trees. Arla gauged the spread of the river and the slant of the land.
“Past the next rise, we’ll hit the marshes,” she said, more to see if Eric would answer her than because she thought he needed her to tell him that. “Wish I knew how far into the season it was. We could be hitting Late Summer. The squatters shift around. Still, where there’s fishing”—she nodded toward the river, now a broad, sluggish swath of green water between the reeds—“there’ll be a clan.”
“Arla.” Eric spoke her name toward the river. “What did you mean when you said there would be less outcry from the Notouch because I had no hand marks?”
Arla felt her mouth twist. She searched for the words to explain.
“Since Narroways started making deals with the Skymen, the Teachers and the Royals have gotten … scared. They got this idea into their heads that the Skymen and the Heretics were using the Notouch to run their messages, hide them in the marshes, get them supplies and information, and the like. It’s true, of course, but they were paying for all of it with food and cloth, some coinage. We’ll do anything for pay, everybody knows that …” She bit her tongue.
It’s the air. Breathe the old comfortable air and get back the old comfortable thoughts.
“So,” she went on, keeping her gaze on the way in front of her, “as the law says, what one Notouch does, all Notouch are responsible for. The Teachers have been laying down that law and exacting flesh-and-blood fines from us. It’s made us wary. Almost nobody will go out of their way to do a Teacher a service now. Especially around Narroways.
“It’s also true that around Narroways a Teacher or an upper rank might … become lost in a night storm more easily than in other places.”
Eric said nothing and this time Arla felt no urge to break the silence. She just got to her feet and started walking again.
It turned out she’d read the landscape right. They topped the final hill and saw the vast, bowllike valley that held the Lif marshes. Arla had heard it speculated that, except for the Dead Sea, this was the largest stretch of open ground in the Realm. Even here, though, she could see the dark, comforting bulk of the World’s Wall on every side.
She sighted on a cluster of Crooker trees. They’d need walking sticks for finding solid ground. She wished she still had her knife, or an ax would have been even better. However, there should be deadwood that hadn’t floated off yet.