The Nomad - By Simon Hawke Page 0,26

did not look like most villichi. Her coloring was different, and though she was tall for a woman, she lacked the exaggerated length of neck and limb that characterized villichi females. Her proportions were closer to the human norm. If Ryana was smart—and she was—she would not reveal herself, but would bide her time while she regained her strength so that she could pick her opportunity. But if they had harmed so much as one hair on her head…

For the most part, Sorak and Valsavis rode in silence, save for the occasional exchange regarding signs that the marauders left behind. Sorak’s respect for the muscular old warrior was growing rapidly. The mercenary was a superb tracker. Nothing missed his alert gaze. At an age when most warriors would have long since retired, with a woman to take care of them in their declining years, Valsavis was still at the peak of his powers. Sorak wondered what sort of life the man had led, where he had come from, and where he was bound. The tribe wondered about him, too, and in a way that made them feel profoundly uneasy.

“I do not trust this man, Sorak,” said the Guardian. “Be careful,”

“Can you not see what is in his mind?” asked Sorak mentally.

The Guardian did not reply at once. After a moment, she said, “No, I cannot.”

Her reply surprised him. “You cannot probe his thoughts?”

“I have tried, but it is of no avail. I simply cannot penetrate his defenses.”

“Is he warded against telepaths?” asked Sorak.

“I cannot left,” the Guardian replied, “but if he is, the wards are powerful and subtle. There are some individuals who cannot be probed, whose minds are shielded by their own self-contained defenses. Such individuals are strong in spirit, emotionally powerful, and rarely reveal themselves.

They do not trust easily, and they are often dangerous to trust. Their essence remains locked away deep within themselves. They are often loners who do not feel the lack of love or warm companionship. They often do not feel much of anything at all.”

“This man felt compassion,” Sorak said. “He stopped to give aid to a wounded stranger, and he is going with us to Ryana’s rescue with no thought of any gain.”

“No thought of payment in money, perhaps,” the Guardian replied, “but you do not yet know that he does not think of gain.”

“You think he wants something from me?”

“Few people act unselfishly,” the Guardian said. “Most do not undertake risks without some thought of benefit to themselves. I do not like this Valsavis, and the rest of tribe senses an aura of danger about him.”

“I will remain on my guard, then,” Sorak said. “But Ryana’s safety is foremost in my mind.”

“As it is in ours,” the Guardian assured. “We all know what she means to you. And most of us have come to care for her, in our own way. But this man has appeared very conveniently, and in a very timely manner.

Where did he come from? What was he doing traveling alone in so remote an area?”

“Perhaps, as we were, he was bound for the village of Salt View,” said Sorak. “It seems a logical destination.

And he chose a roundabout course, as we did, to avoid marauders.”

“If that is so, then why does he pursue them with you now, when there is no personal stake in it for him?”

“It is possible that he was earnest in his explanation,” Sorak said. “Perhaps he craves adventure. He is a fighter, and obviously, he has been a mercenary. Such men are often different.”

“That may be so,” the Guardian countered, “but all my instincts say this man is not what he appears to be.”

“If he means to play us false,” said Sorak, “then he will discover that I am much more than I appear to be, as well.”

“Do not allow your confidence to blind you, Sorak,” said the Guardian. “Remember, though we are strong, we are not invulnerable. We took an arrow in the back that could easily have killed us, and not even the Watcher saw it coming.”

“I have not forgotten,” Sorak said. “From now on, I will watch my back more carefully.”

“See that you do not leave Valsavis there,” she said.

“I will remember,” Sorak said.

The terrain they traversed was difficult, but Sorak was sure they were moving faster than the marauders. He rode behind Valsavis on his kank, watching the trail ahead, noticing that the old mercenary was picking up every detail of the spoor. By late afternoon, they were approaching the