Halvar stared back at me blankly a moment. Then he looked at Del.
She sighed. “He explained all that, Tiger. As we climbed.”
I didn’t like being made to feel guilty. “I told you I don’t understood his lingo very well. And besides, one of us had to keep an eye out for hounds.”
Del didn’t answer right away. She looked up the mountain toward the “mouth,” which still spewed fitful drifts of smoke. “The hounds weren’t always here,” she said finally. “Halvar says the first one appeared about six months ago, maybe seven. Apparently it killed one of the villagers; no one is certain, because the man was never found. But after that, more and more of the beasts appeared … and more and more villagers disappeared. There is a track here because the village holy man suggested the dragon might be appeased with gifts, and so the villagers began to climb up to the dragon to make offerings. Unfortunately, the dragon was not appeased; more people disappeared. So they sent to Staal-Ysta and begged for help.” She paused. “You are what they got.”
I wanted to respond to her overly bland tone of voice, which is infuriating at times, but Halvar pointed up the mountain and said something to Del I couldn’t understand. It sounded like a warning to me. Whatever it was, Del didn’t much like it; she snapped out something to Halvar that made him redden. But he tapped the hilt of his useless bronze sword and repeated what he’d said before. This time I caught part of it. Something about jivatmas.
“What?” I asked, as usual.
Del looked at Halvar. “He says we would be wise to leave our swords sheathed. That the village holy man has decreed magic a danger to Ysaa-den because the dragon feeds on it.”
“Oh?” It sounded suspicious to me. “And how does he know that?”
“He set wards when the hounds first appeared,” she explained. “Or so Halvar says. And the wards, instead of protecting the village, drew the hounds. Who stole them.”
“Stole what, the wards? Is he sandsick? What would hounds want with wards?”
Del didn’t smile. “Maybe the same thing they wanted with the whistle.”
And my sword? My newly-quenched jivatma? They hadn’t been even remotely interested in the thing until I’d blooded it; only in Boreal, who reeked of blood and power.
I looked at Halvar with a bit more respect. “Tell him we appreciate the warning.”
Del stared. “Tiger—”
“And ask him if he will send someone each day to feed and water the horses; we’re leaving them here and going the rest of the way on foot. I’d send them back down with him, but I don’t like the idea of being completely horseless; at least this way they’re in range, if we need them.” I looked again at the smoking “mouth,” easily an hour’s hike from where we were. “Sort of.”
“Each day?” Del echoed. “How many do you plan to spend tromping around the mountains?”
“Two,” I answered succinctly. “If I can’t beat a mountain by then, hounds or no hounds, I’m not worth the coin they’re paying me.”
“They’re not.”
I frowned. “Not what?”
“Paying you.”
I frowned harder. “What do you mean, not paying me? This is what I do for a living, bascha. Remember?”
“But you took on this task as a duty to your rank as a kaidin.” Her expression also was bland, but I know that look in her eye. “They didn’t hire the Sandtiger, nor did Staal-Ysta send him. A new-made kaidin answered the plea of a village in need, and swore to help in any way he could.” She raised pale brows. “Isn’t that what you told me?”
“Hoolies, Del, you know I’m a sword-dancer. I don’t do anything for free.” I paused. “At least, not anything dangerous.”
“Then perhaps you should explain that to Halvar, who is headman of a village which probably has no coin at all—oh, perhaps one or two coppers, if you insist on counting—but survives against all odds because people make a living out of the ground and from the livestock, in coin of wool and milk and pork … except you would not consider that a living, would you? If it isn’t gold or silver or copper, it’s not worth the effort.”
I sat the stud and stared at her, taken aback by the vehemence of her contempt. This wasn’t the Del I knew … well, yes, I guess it was. It was the old Del, the one who’d used words as well as a weapon as we’d crossed the Punja on the way to Julah.
Was this the Del I’d wanted back, just so we could reestablish some of the old relationship?