It had to be
afternoon. Storm season thunder rocked the old Greys barracks. The
roaring hiss of the deluge ate up almost all other sound. The air
was cool to the point of feeling nippy. I told myself to enjoy the
cool while I could. Once the rain stopped the heat would return.
And the air would be damp enough to steam vegetables.
A whole different, pounding roar developed as wild winds began
to slam and kick the barracks. Hail had begun to fall. Heavily. The
streets would be filling with Taglian children determined to
harvest the ice. Some surely would be injured by large hailstones.
It happened frequently.
Shukrat came in. She did not look cheerful. Suruvhija followed
her, bringing food and drink.
I asked, “How bad is it? Is it infection?”
Shukrat was puzzled for a moment. “Oh. No. Tobo is all
right. He was even awake for a minute a little while
ago.”
So. The way she did not go on told me where the real problem
lay.
When I jumped up, nearly injuring myself in my haste, she
barked, “Take it easy! Getting in a dangerous hurry
won’t help.” And, when I failed to calm myself enough
to suit her, “You won’t be fit to help anybody if you
show up emotionally too ragged to cope.”
She was right. An old man like me, in my professions, got plenty
of exposure to that truth. Not only fear, but most emotion, is the
mind killer. We do stupid things when we let emotion take over.
Then we are forced to endure the consequences for the rest of our
days.
I took deep breaths and drank cold water. I told myself I could
handle even the worst news because I have been dealing with bad
news all my life. “Lead on,” I told Shukrat.
Soldiers
live. Bad news is part of the life.
Arkana and the white crow were with Lady and Booboo when I
arrived. Suruvhija had gotten there ahead of me. She slipped out
right away, with a murmur of gratitude for excusing her son from
the worst consequences of his actions.
It was not a good day for me physically either. I was having to
use my cane.
Both of my women were lying on their backs, making no noise. I
saw no immediate cue as to what the crisis might be. The crow paced
back and forth on a shelf above Lady’s cot. Arkana perched on
a chair beside my daughter.
I went to my wife first.
Lady was breathing. Barely. And having to work extremely hard at
it, gasping and fighting for every breath. I groaned. “I may
have to cut her throat open below the obstruction.” The
operation might save her life but her vanity would be sorely
tested. The results are never pretty.
I felt relieved as I turned to the girl. And guilty, because I
felt so much relief.
Soldiers live.
Booboo was gone. But it had only just happened.
That ripped my guts out.
Arkana told me, “There was someone with her every minute,
Pop. It was like she just didn’t want to make it.” She
made me take the chair.
“Oh, I understand that part. She didn’t have any
reason to go on. We took everything that meant anything away from
her. But knowing she wanted out, in here,” and I tapped my
temple, “doesn’t do anything to stop the bleeding in
here,” tapping my chest. I drew a deep breath, let it go in a
long sigh. “Tell Suruvhija to come back in.”
Once the little Shadar woman returned, I told her, “Buy as
much ice as you can get. I want to pack my daughter in
ice.”
I touched Booboo. She was still warmer than the surrounding
air.
Shukrat asked, “What’s up? What’re you going
to do?”
“I’m going to take her down to the ice cave.”
We had to go back to get the Children of the Dead back across the
plain and to keep our word to Shivetya. Maybe sooner was better
than later.
The white crow made a little sound, simply a device for getting
my attention.
I said, “She’s first in my heart. If that’s
what it takes to save her, then I’ll put her down there with
you, too.”
Suruvhija was gone. I hoped she got no grief trying to buy ice.
If anyone tried to keep her from getting the money I would be
tempted to break some bones.
I did not reflect on what my response, as Captain, would have
been toward an underling with my present attitude. The Words
Immortal are: That Was Different.
The first ice arrived not much later. Booboo had chosen the
perfect time and season to die. We bundled her in a quarter ton of
hailstones, inside heavy blankets, which we sewed shut.
Lady’s flying post, slaved to Arkana’s, was just able
to hoist the weight.
The fly of indecision bit me. I wanted to get the girl into the
safety of the cavern before nature had its way. But I did not want
to be away from Tobo and my wife and run the risk of disaster
here.
Shukrat assured me, “I’ll damned well make sure Tobo
is all right. And as soon as he’s able I’ll have him
help Lady. If you’re not back. Now go. Do what you have to
do.”
“Come on, Pop,” Arkana told me. “Once we put
on some altitude that ice isn’t going to melt nearly so
fast.”
“Yeah. Shukrat. If anything
happens . . . get more ice. Come on down. Maybe
Shivetya can help.”
Before we left I did have to visit Suvrin, to let him know what
was going on and arrange it so he would know what to do if the
fates ordained that this was the time when Croaker would not be
coming back.
Even when you fly with the wind it takes a long time to get from
Taglios to the fortress with no name. It seems to take forever when
worry is your most intimate traveling companion. The white crow was
not good for much of anything but an emergency source of provender.
Arkana was a dutiful daughter, more helpful than she needed to be,
but she was just too young. Most of her earnest conversation seemed
so naive, or even foolish, that it became hard to recall a time
when I was that age, still idealistic and hurling myself at life
headlong, believing that truth and right must inevitably
triumph.
I kept my opinions to myself. After everything she had suffered
already Arkana did not deserve to have her surviving optimism
skewered by my bitter cynicisms.
Perhaps her youthful shallowness was useful as a shield. It
might help her shake off those early traumas. I have known people
like that, who live only in the present moment.
It had to be
afternoon. Storm season thunder rocked the old Greys barracks. The
roaring hiss of the deluge ate up almost all other sound. The air
was cool to the point of feeling nippy. I told myself to enjoy the
cool while I could. Once the rain stopped the heat would return.
And the air would be damp enough to steam vegetables.
A whole different, pounding roar developed as wild winds began
to slam and kick the barracks. Hail had begun to fall. Heavily. The
streets would be filling with Taglian children determined to
harvest the ice. Some surely would be injured by large hailstones.
It happened frequently.
Shukrat came in. She did not look cheerful. Suruvhija followed
her, bringing food and drink.
I asked, “How bad is it? Is it infection?”
Shukrat was puzzled for a moment. “Oh. No. Tobo is all
right. He was even awake for a minute a little while
ago.”
So. The way she did not go on told me where the real problem
lay.
When I jumped up, nearly injuring myself in my haste, she
barked, “Take it easy! Getting in a dangerous hurry
won’t help.” And, when I failed to calm myself enough
to suit her, “You won’t be fit to help anybody if you
show up emotionally too ragged to cope.”
She was right. An old man like me, in my professions, got plenty
of exposure to that truth. Not only fear, but most emotion, is the
mind killer. We do stupid things when we let emotion take over.
Then we are forced to endure the consequences for the rest of our
days.
I took deep breaths and drank cold water. I told myself I could
handle even the worst news because I have been dealing with bad
news all my life. “Lead on,” I told Shukrat.
Soldiers
live. Bad news is part of the life.
Arkana and the white crow were with Lady and Booboo when I
arrived. Suruvhija had gotten there ahead of me. She slipped out
right away, with a murmur of gratitude for excusing her son from
the worst consequences of his actions.
It was not a good day for me physically either. I was having to
use my cane.
Both of my women were lying on their backs, making no noise. I
saw no immediate cue as to what the crisis might be. The crow paced
back and forth on a shelf above Lady’s cot. Arkana perched on
a chair beside my daughter.
I went to my wife first.
Lady was breathing. Barely. And having to work extremely hard at
it, gasping and fighting for every breath. I groaned. “I may
have to cut her throat open below the obstruction.” The
operation might save her life but her vanity would be sorely
tested. The results are never pretty.
I felt relieved as I turned to the girl. And guilty, because I
felt so much relief.
Soldiers live.
Booboo was gone. But it had only just happened.
That ripped my guts out.
Arkana told me, “There was someone with her every minute,
Pop. It was like she just didn’t want to make it.” She
made me take the chair.
“Oh, I understand that part. She didn’t have any
reason to go on. We took everything that meant anything away from
her. But knowing she wanted out, in here,” and I tapped my
temple, “doesn’t do anything to stop the bleeding in
here,” tapping my chest. I drew a deep breath, let it go in a
long sigh. “Tell Suruvhija to come back in.”
Once the little Shadar woman returned, I told her, “Buy as
much ice as you can get. I want to pack my daughter in
ice.”
I touched Booboo. She was still warmer than the surrounding
air.
Shukrat asked, “What’s up? What’re you going
to do?”
“I’m going to take her down to the ice cave.”
We had to go back to get the Children of the Dead back across the
plain and to keep our word to Shivetya. Maybe sooner was better
than later.
The white crow made a little sound, simply a device for getting
my attention.
I said, “She’s first in my heart. If that’s
what it takes to save her, then I’ll put her down there with
you, too.”
Suruvhija was gone. I hoped she got no grief trying to buy ice.
If anyone tried to keep her from getting the money I would be
tempted to break some bones.
I did not reflect on what my response, as Captain, would have
been toward an underling with my present attitude. The Words
Immortal are: That Was Different.
The first ice arrived not much later. Booboo had chosen the
perfect time and season to die. We bundled her in a quarter ton of
hailstones, inside heavy blankets, which we sewed shut.
Lady’s flying post, slaved to Arkana’s, was just able
to hoist the weight.
The fly of indecision bit me. I wanted to get the girl into the
safety of the cavern before nature had its way. But I did not want
to be away from Tobo and my wife and run the risk of disaster
here.
Shukrat assured me, “I’ll damned well make sure Tobo
is all right. And as soon as he’s able I’ll have him
help Lady. If you’re not back. Now go. Do what you have to
do.”
“Come on, Pop,” Arkana told me. “Once we put
on some altitude that ice isn’t going to melt nearly so
fast.”
“Yeah. Shukrat. If anything
happens . . . get more ice. Come on down. Maybe
Shivetya can help.”
Before we left I did have to visit Suvrin, to let him know what
was going on and arrange it so he would know what to do if the
fates ordained that this was the time when Croaker would not be
coming back.
Even when you fly with the wind it takes a long time to get from
Taglios to the fortress with no name. It seems to take forever when
worry is your most intimate traveling companion. The white crow was
not good for much of anything but an emergency source of provender.
Arkana was a dutiful daughter, more helpful than she needed to be,
but she was just too young. Most of her earnest conversation seemed
so naive, or even foolish, that it became hard to recall a time
when I was that age, still idealistic and hurling myself at life
headlong, believing that truth and right must inevitably
triumph.
I kept my opinions to myself. After everything she had suffered
already Arkana did not deserve to have her surviving optimism
skewered by my bitter cynicisms.
Perhaps her youthful shallowness was useful as a shield. It
might help her shake off those early traumas. I have known people
like that, who live only in the present moment.