Read Online The Ringworld Throne by Larry Niven - Free Book Online

the obvious question, but it implied agreement ... and a Machine People manweight would have been a sixth higher. “I’m thinking of taking two cruisers. Leave the third here. Let the Thurl fuel the third cruiser.”
    “Whand and Chit can supervise that,” Kay said.
    “Oh?” She’d wondered why both were absent.
    “They’ve had enough, Boss. Spash is wavering, too. So’s Barok.”
    “Any foray would be to murder selves,” red Warvia said, “unless we can know our enemy. Have the Ghouls spoken?”
    The Thurl said, “Some bodies are gone,” and shrugged.
    “We’re paying for our good manners,” Vala said. A trader must know how to project her voice on demand. “The bodies we guarded from vermin, the lords of the night will take last. They took our Gleaner dead because they died a day earlier.” The night would hear her.
    Tonight Kay and Whand were on the wall with Barok, watching over them with the cannon. Spash and Chit had traded places with them.
    This night looked to be less exhausting, but less joyful, too. The Gleaners and Machine People and an undersized Grass Giant woman named Twuk tried to get something going. The Thurl kept his armor on. The four Red Herders watched gleefully from beyond touching distance, and chattered in their own language, and it all sort of fell apart.
    The Reds weren’t unfriendly. They might be a little stiff around the Thurl himself, but around others they were relaxed and talkative. Spash and three Reds were trading stories now. The Reds had considerable experience with hominids, despite their handicap.
    Vala listened idly. The Reds were guided by their diet. They ate live meat, and they were herder-gourmets. Herding one life-form, rarely two, was easier than trying to keep several types of meatbeast together. The Red tribes mapped their routes to cross each others’ paths, to trade feasts.
    They traded stories, too, and met hominids in a variety of environments. Now they were speaking of two types of Water People, apparently not the same two Vala was familiar with.
    The fourth Red, Tegger, was on watch with Chit.
    The Thurl was asleep in full armor. He clearly wasn’t interested in rishathra, or Ghouls, either, Vala thought.
    Sopashintay lay propped against a tent pole. “I wonder what it’s like inside the wall tonight,” she said.
    Vala considered. “The Thurl’s out here. Beedj is in there, on defense. ‘What the Thurl does not see did not happen.’”
    Spash came up on an elbow. “Where did you hear that?”
    “From the Thurl. The beta males are doing a lot of mating, I expect, and some fighting, too. I suppose we’re missing all the fun—“
    “Again, in my case,” Spash said.
    “—but they wouldn’t rish anyway if they can mate. And I can use the rest.”
    “So can the Thurl. He sleeps like a near-dormant volcano,” Spash said.
    Chit looked at the women and smiled, and stepped lightly out of the tent. A dense mist cloaked the night. Chit picked up a bone from dinner and threw it. Vala heard a tiny muffled tock .
    A silver bulk was at her shoulders, sensed but never heard. The Thurl sniffed, while his hands cocked a crossbow without sound or effort. He said, “They are not near, vampires or Night People. Chitakumishad, did you see anything? Smell anything?”
    “Nothing.”
    The Thurl seemed exceedingly alert for one who had been sleeping moments ago. He pulled his helm closed and stepped out. A Grass Giant guard, Tarun, followed him.
    Spash said, “I had it wrong, didn’t I? But why—“
    Vala whispered, “Reds. They’re the ancient enemy, and they’re all around him. That’s why he kept his armor on, and that’s why he pretends to sleep. Bet on it.”
    In the morning there were no dead between the wall and the tall grass, save for those that lay on sheets. The Ghouls had taken Vala at her word, it seemed.
    Chaychind asked of nobody in particular, “Where shall we turn the hakarrch loose?”
    Coriak [sic—should be “Coriack”]