table.
Wearily Furtig accepted that, kept his hold on histribesman as they began to rise together.
It took a long time, but Furtig, in his weariness, didnot protest that. He watched dully as they slid pastone opening and then another. Each must mark a different level of these vast underground ways, even asthe caves opened from two ledges. Up and up—
Four levels up and Furtig's search sense gave thesignal—this one! Towing the limp Foskatt, he madeswimming motions to take them to the opening. Andhe had just enough strength to falter through, out ofthe pull of the current, to the floor beyond.
He lay there beside Foskatt, panting, his sides andback aching from his effort. What now? But he wastoo worn out to face anything more—not now. Andthat thought dimmed in his mind as his head fell forward to rest on his crooked arm.
66
Furtig came out of sleep, aware even before he openedhis eyes that he was not alone. What he sniffed wasnot the musky scent of Ratton, but rather the reassuring odor of his own kin. With that, another smell,which brought him fully awake—food! And not thedried Rattons of his traveling either.
He was lying on a pallet not unlike those of thecaves. And, waiting beside him, holding a bowl whichsent out that enticing fragrance, was a female he hadnever seen before. She was remarkable enough to lethim know he was among strangers. And he gaped ather in a way which should have brought her fur rising,set her to a warning hiss.
Fur—that was it! Though she had a goodly show ofsilky, silverly fur on her head and along her shoulders,yet on the rest of her body it was reduced to the thinnest down, through which it was easy to see her skin.
And those hands holding the bowl—the fingerswere not stubby like his own but longer, thinner.
Furtig did not know whether he liked what he. saw of her,he was only aware that she was different enough tokeep him staring like a stupid youngling.
"Eat—" She held the bowl closer. Her voice had atone of command. Also it was as different as her bodywas from those he knew.
Furtig took the bowl and found its contents hadbeen cut into easily handled strips. As he gnawed, andthe warm, restorative juices flowed down his throat,he came fully to attention. The female had not left and that disconcerted him again. Among the Peoplethis was not the custom—the males had their portion of the caves, the females another.
"You are Furtig of the Ancestor's cave—"
"How did you—"
"Know that? Did you not bring back Foskatt, who knows you?"
"Foskatt!" For the first time since his waking Furtig remembered his tribesman. "He is hurt—the Rattons—"
"Hurt, yes. But he is now in the healing place of the Demons. We"—there was pride in her tone—"have learned many of the Demons' secrets. Theycould heal as well as kill. And every day we learnmore and more. If we are given the chance we shallknow all that they knew . . ."
"But not to use that knowledge to the same purposes, Liliha."
Startled, Furtig looked beyond the female. The softtread of any of his race should not be entirely noiseless, but he had been so intent he had not been awareof a newcomer. And looking up—
"Famed Ancestor!" He set down the bowl with abump which nearly shook out what was left of its contents, hastened to make the gesture of respect due thegreatest Elder of them all.
But to his pride (and a little discomfort, were thefull truth to be known), Gammage hunkered down byhim and touched noses in the full acceptance of thePeople.
"You are Furtig, son of Fuffbr, son of Foru, son ofanother Furtig who was son of my son,"
Gammage recited as a true Elder, one trained to keep in memoryclan and tribe gene through the years.
"Welcome to the lairs, warrior. It would seem that your introduction here has been a harsh one."
Gammage was old"; the very descent lines he hadstated made him older than any Elder Furtig hadever known. Yet there was something about himwhich suggested vigor, though now perhaps more vigor of
Wearily Furtig accepted that, kept his hold on histribesman as they began to rise together.
It took a long time, but Furtig, in his weariness, didnot protest that. He watched dully as they slid pastone opening and then another. Each must mark a different level of these vast underground ways, even asthe caves opened from two ledges. Up and up—
Four levels up and Furtig's search sense gave thesignal—this one! Towing the limp Foskatt, he madeswimming motions to take them to the opening. Andhe had just enough strength to falter through, out ofthe pull of the current, to the floor beyond.
He lay there beside Foskatt, panting, his sides andback aching from his effort. What now? But he wastoo worn out to face anything more—not now. Andthat thought dimmed in his mind as his head fell forward to rest on his crooked arm.
66
Furtig came out of sleep, aware even before he openedhis eyes that he was not alone. What he sniffed wasnot the musky scent of Ratton, but rather the reassuring odor of his own kin. With that, another smell,which brought him fully awake—food! And not thedried Rattons of his traveling either.
He was lying on a pallet not unlike those of thecaves. And, waiting beside him, holding a bowl whichsent out that enticing fragrance, was a female he hadnever seen before. She was remarkable enough to lethim know he was among strangers. And he gaped ather in a way which should have brought her fur rising,set her to a warning hiss.
Fur—that was it! Though she had a goodly show ofsilky, silverly fur on her head and along her shoulders,yet on the rest of her body it was reduced to the thinnest down, through which it was easy to see her skin.
And those hands holding the bowl—the fingerswere not stubby like his own but longer, thinner.
Furtig did not know whether he liked what he. saw of her,he was only aware that she was different enough tokeep him staring like a stupid youngling.
"Eat—" She held the bowl closer. Her voice had atone of command. Also it was as different as her bodywas from those he knew.
Furtig took the bowl and found its contents hadbeen cut into easily handled strips. As he gnawed, andthe warm, restorative juices flowed down his throat,he came fully to attention. The female had not left and that disconcerted him again. Among the Peoplethis was not the custom—the males had their portion of the caves, the females another.
"You are Furtig of the Ancestor's cave—"
"How did you—"
"Know that? Did you not bring back Foskatt, who knows you?"
"Foskatt!" For the first time since his waking Furtig remembered his tribesman. "He is hurt—the Rattons—"
"Hurt, yes. But he is now in the healing place of the Demons. We"—there was pride in her tone—"have learned many of the Demons' secrets. Theycould heal as well as kill. And every day we learnmore and more. If we are given the chance we shallknow all that they knew . . ."
"But not to use that knowledge to the same purposes, Liliha."
Startled, Furtig looked beyond the female. The softtread of any of his race should not be entirely noiseless, but he had been so intent he had not been awareof a newcomer. And looking up—
"Famed Ancestor!" He set down the bowl with abump which nearly shook out what was left of its contents, hastened to make the gesture of respect due thegreatest Elder of them all.
But to his pride (and a little discomfort, were thefull truth to be known), Gammage hunkered down byhim and touched noses in the full acceptance of thePeople.
"You are Furtig, son of Fuffbr, son of Foru, son ofanother Furtig who was son of my son,"
Gammage recited as a true Elder, one trained to keep in memoryclan and tribe gene through the years.
"Welcome to the lairs, warrior. It would seem that your introduction here has been a harsh one."
Gammage was old"; the very descent lines he hadstated made him older than any Elder Furtig hadever known. Yet there was something about himwhich suggested vigor, though now perhaps more vigor of
Similar Books
