Grysh. He tried to start a few conversations at but it became obvious to him that his master was agitated and wanted be left to his own thoughts. Carwan could guess what that foretold, for had seen Grysh in similar moods, always before issuing a most unpleas- e￡ order. As Yatol of Dharyan, Grysh also served as principal magistrate, d so he was the one who ordered the executions of convicted criminals. It was not a duty that he seemed to enjoy, but neither was it one from which he ever shied.
Soon after midday, Carwan was leaning out of the coach window, peering ahead intently, for the call had come back that the To-gai-ru encampment was iirsight. Carwan Pestle had never seen a To-gai-ru settlement, and he held a healthy curiosity toward these strange nomadic savages.
The wagon came over a ridge, the ground falling away gradually beyond, down to a wide and shallow river that meandered across the clay, the ever-eager flora of the desert springing to life about its inevitably temporary banks. A cluster of tents was set near one bend, the thin gray smoke of cooking fires lazily snaking into the pale blue sky. No horses were tethered within the camp that Carwan could see, but there was a fair-sized herd milling about. Above all else, the To-gai-ru were famous for their ways with horses, d Carwan could well imagine that this seemingly wild herd was far from untamed.
At least to the commands of a To-gai-ru rider.
The lead riders fanned out left and right, forming a semicircle about the camp, the only open route leading right into the river. With perfect disci-pline, the second line of twenty warriors, led by Wan Atenn, kicked their mounts into a thundering run, galloping right to the edge of the camp and forming a tighter, threatening perimeter.
Many cries of alarm came out to Carwan Pestle's ears, and he noted that all of them were in the voices of women or young children.
A moment later, Wan Atenn signaled that the village was secure, and the driver cracked the whip on the draft horses and Yatol Grysh's coach ram-bled down to the encampment.
Carwan Pestle peered intently all the way, as the small forms took on more definitive shapes, and he knew that his reasoning upon hearing the cries was correct. There seemed to be no adult men in the encampment.
Wan Atenn rode up beside the window. ?It is safe, Yatol," he reported.
"No weapons shown?"
'Only the young and the old and the women," Wan Atenn explained.
Carwan Pestle turned a curious expression on Grysh. ?Perhaps the men are out on a hunt."
"Indeed," the Yatol replied slyly. ?But it is well-known that the To-gai-ru hunt early in the morning. Only early in the morning."
"But - "
"So if they are indeed out on the hunt, then what, my young friend, might they be hunting?"
Carwan sat back and stared at the Yatol. He was beginning to get a very bad feeling about all of this, his stomach turning over and over. The coach came to an abrupt stop and Carwan was quick to the door, throwing it open and leaping out, then turning about and rolling out the retracting stairs for his Yatol.
Grysh came out slowly, allowing Wan Atenn to set his warriors in defen-sive posture about the small stairway. The Yatol paused on each step, his heavy head swiveling to take in all the sights: the many tents, the many small children peeking out from under the shadows of the folds.
"These people breed like hares," he snickered, and he sighed. ?Find out who is in charge of this wretched camp."
Wan Atenn snapped to attention, then spun off, motioning for one of the Douan Cal men to come with him.
Together, they went tent to tent, Wan Atenn saying something to the outposter, and the man translating it to the To-gai-ru.
Always, a shake of the head came back in response, followed by a more insistent bark from Wan Atenn and a more insistent reiteration from the outposter.
When that, too, brought no apparent acceptable response, Wan Atenn stepped forward and, with a simple and balanced twist and push move-ment, shoved the To-gai-ru to the ground, and the pair moved along.
"They are afraid," Yatol Grysh explained to Carwan. ?They do not an-swer because they know not what to say."
"Your man, Atenn, inspires fear."
"No," Yatol Grysh replied. ?They know not what to answer because the truth would damn them. The fools have not properly rehearsed their lies because they did not expect that