Read Online Burning Tower by Larry Niven - Free Book Online Page A

Tower set fire to it.”
    Sandry nodded. “Yes. Magnificent. It was law. Written, witnessed, and sealed.”
    â€œI never understood why that was important,” Green Stone said. “Please to be seated, My Lord. We will have tea served. And your—” Green Stone gestured. Get your armsman seated before he falls over.
    â€œWell, thank you,” Chalker said. He was still gray. “With My Lord’s permission—”
    â€œPlease,” Sandry said. You look awful, and I won’t say that.
    They sat on the spread carpets, the Bison Tribe men easily, with legs crossed. Sandry sat stiffly, his legs out in front of him. It seemed awkward to sit without furniture. Chalker reclined like a bag of oats, smiling cautiously.
    â€œIt is important because without law, there is nothing but chaos,” Sandry said. “If each does just what he wants to do, does what seems right in his own eyes, nothing works. Surely you know that?”
    â€œMaybe, but we don’t write it all down and act like it can’t ever change,” Green Stone said.
    â€œSometimes we do,” Burning Tower said. “Some things never change, never will change, and they may not be written down, but they might as well be.”
    â€œLike what?” Green Stone demanded.
    â€œLike—like girls having to harness a one-horn before a wedding,” Burning Tower said. Then she blushed.
    So it is true, Sandry thought. True, true, it’s all true, and she was riding that one-horn. She wanted me to see her ride it. It’s all true, and it’s wonderful.
    â€œWell,” Green Stone said, “so you’re inviting us to bring the wagon up to Lordshills? Reckon not. Peacegiven Square was good enough for my father; it’ll be good enough for us.”
    So, Sandry thought, that old quarrel, and they haven’t forgotten. “Fair enough,” Sandry said. He waited as Tower poured tea. It smelled of sage, with just a twinge of hemp and wild honey. “Terror birds, you called them. You have a name for them. Are they common?”
    Burning Tower looked to her brother.
    â€œDidn’t used to be,” Green Stone said. “Used to be you wouldn’t see even one most years.”
    â€œYou had a costume—”
    â€œYes, yes, I still have it. I’m glad you remembered,” Burning Tower said. “It was Mother’s. My father killed that bird on his first trip north with the wagon train. Mother wore it as long as she was performing, then she gave it to me.”
    Performing. That was the first time I looked at her, Sandry thought. On a high rope doing somersaults. She’d fallen, and he caught her. He tried to imagine Roni or any other Lordshills girl doing that, and he couldn’t. They might learn how, but they’d never put on a show, and they certainly wouldn’t talk about performing. And I never thought about that sort of thing before.
    â€œBut this year we’ve seen more terror birds than I saw all my previous years put together,” Green Stone went on. “Bunches of them, five, ten, a dozen this time, all trying to kill anything that moves.”
    â€œThey seemed to be after the horses,” Sandry said. “Do they attack yours?”
    Green Stone looked thoughtful.
    â€œWe don’t have horses,” Burning Tower blurted out. “No one does. Yours last year were the first horses I’d ever seen.”
    â€œBut you can ride!”
    â€œBoneheads,” she said. “They’re rare too, but there are some for sale up and down the Hemp Road. But no horses.”
    Green Stone looked as if his tea had gone sour.
    His sister grinned. “Rocky doesn’t want me to tell you things like that. He wants to trade for information.”
    Sandry frowned. “Like tellers trade stories?”
    She grinned again. “See! I told you the Lords don’t do things that way,” she told Green Stone.
    â€œWell,