Read Online Maeve by Jo Clayton - Free Book Online Page B

don’t want to.”
    â€œIf it would hurt the Company men? Hurt them where they’d really feel it, in their profits?” She felt anger flare in him, partly directed at the Company men, but partly at her for forcing this painful decision on him.
    â€œI’m going to try to teach them to respect the cludair and their forest. I’m going to make them feel cold fear run along their bones whenever they hear the sound of your flute. I want you to wake such terror in them that they’ll turn tail and stampede. Will you help me?”
    His face flushed then paled. Unable to speak he nodded once. Then nodded again, the hunger in him so intense it battered at her. She clutched at her sliding senses and raised her shields. “Good. How long would it take to teach a cludair a simple tune?”
    â€œGiven a youngling with some shade of gift willing to put in a lot of tedious practicing, about a week.”
    Qilasc stirred impatiently, pulling Aleytys from her reverie. She looked rapidly around again.
    Ghastay squatted beside Gwynnor, stroking his new flute, his fingers moving repeatedly from hole to hole, silently practicing the fingering of the tune.
    Aleytys felt a quiet satisfaction that had nothing to do with her purpose here in the forest. A week ago the plainsboy couldn’t have come close to the forest boy though they were near matching in age. But the teacher-pupil relationship had insensibly altered Gwynnor’s prejudices. Now he had a proprietary attitude toward Ghastay that made Aleytys want to smile. She repressed her amusement, granting him the dignity he needed. “You ready?”
    He touched the dart gun at his waist, then the flute, then smiled, a fierce, savage baring of teeth. “When you give word, Aleytys.”
    â€œRemember. When the machine stops, play on a few minutes, no more. When you go, go away fast. Both of you.”
    â€œYou think they’ll come into the forest?”
    â€œI have no idea. If they do, that’s what the hunters are for.” She jerked her head at the squatting cludair. “You and Ghastay take off. I need you both to work up a good healthy terror in those bastards. If you get yourselves killed, you waste a good plan. You hear me?”
    Gwynnor grinned at her. “I hear.”
    â€œGhastay?”
    The cludair boy twitched his nose and shook his shoulders, his thin lips curling up with excited glee. “I hear.”
    She looked up at the tree and sighed. “Give me a leg up.” Stepping briefly onto Gwynnor’s knee, she sprang up and caught hold of the lowest limb. As soon as she was straddling it, she called down, “Begin playing when I whistle.”
    â€œWe know, Aleytys. We know. You only told us half a dozen times.”
    â€œHuh.” She clambered laboriously up the trunk then pulled herself out onto the familiar limb until she could see the top of the machine. As soon as she was settled, she whistled briefly.
    Below, the eery, jarring music trickled up through, the thick cover of leaves and wound through the noisy clatter from the machine. It made her head ache. My god, she thought, Gwynnor was right. He knows his music. It doubled its impact as it wove in and around the harsh grinding roar of the locust machine. She saw the harvester slow to idle. A dark head came out of the cab, looked around. She could see the frown drawing the blunt features of the man’s face into a concentration of disgust. Then armored figures came lumbering around the back of the machine, energy rifles resting lightly on glittering arms, visor-protected eyes moving with trained skill along the deceitfully tranquil face of the forest.
    â€œAll right, Shadith,” she whispered, “here we go.”
    Together they reached out, found the vulnerable places. One. Two. Shadith bubbled with glee and chose a third. Then Aleytys opened a pathway between the wire shapes. One. Two. Three. Whipping from point to point with the