Planet of Adventure Omnibus by Jack Vance Read Free Book Online Page A

has never fled; it has always pursued duty to the death.”
    “Duty doesn’t
include futile suicide,” said Reith. He made a sudden motion, seized Traz
Onmale’s hat, wrenched loose the emblem. Traz gave a croak of almost physical
pain, then stood staring at Reith. “What do you do? It is death to touch the
Onmale!”
    “You are no
longer Traz Onmale; you are Traz.”
    The boy
seemed to shrink, to lessen in stature. “Very well,” he said in a subdued
voice. “I do not care to die.” He looked around the camp. “We must go afoot. If
we try to harness leap-horses they will scream and gnash their horns. You wait
here. I will fetch cloaks and a parcel of food.” He departed, leaving Reith
with the emblem of Onmale.
    In the light
of the moons he looked at it and it seemed to stare back at him, issuing orders
of baleful import. Reith dug a hole in the ground, dropped in Onmale. It seemed
to shiver, give a soundless shriek of anguish; he covered the gleaming emblem,
feeling haunted and guilty, and when he rose to his feet his hands were shaking
and clammy, and sweat trickled down his back.
    Time passed:
an hour? Two hours? Reith was unable to estimate. Since arriving on Tschai his
time sense had gone awry.
    The moons
slid down the sky; midnight approached, passed; night sounds came in off the
steppe; a faint high-pitched yelping of nighthounds, a great muffled belch. In
the camp the fires dwindled to embers; the mutter of voices ceased.
    The boy came
silently up behind him. “I’m ready. Here is your cloak and a pack of food.”
    Reith was
aware that he spoke in a new voice, less certain, less brusque. His black hat
seemed strangely plain. He looked at Reith’s hands and briefly around the shed,
but made no inquiry concerning the Onmale.
    They slipped
off to the north, climbed the hillside so as to walk along the ridge. “We’ll be
easier for the night-hounds to see,” muttered Traz, “but the. attanders keep to
the shadows of the swales.”
    “If we can
reach the forest, and the tree where I hope my harness still hangs, we’ll be
considerably safer. Then...” He paused. The future was a blank expanse.
    They gained
the crest of the hill and halted a moment to rest. The high moons cast a wan
light across the steppes, filling the hollows with darkness. From not too far
to the north came a series of low wails. “Down,” hissed Traz. “Lie flat. The
hounds are running.”
    They lay
without moving for fifteen minutes. The eerie cries sounded again, toward the
east. “Come,” said Traz. “They’re circling the camp, hoping for a staked child.”
    They struck
off to the south, up and down, avoiding the dark swales as much as possible. “The
night is old,” said Traz. “When light comes the Emblems will trail us. If we reach
the river we can lose them. If the marshmen take us, we’ll fare as badly, or
worse.”
    For two hours
they walked. The eastern sky began to show a watery yellow light, barred by
streaks of black cloud, and ahead rose the loom of the forest. Traz looked back
the way they had come. “The camp will be astir. The women will be
fire-building. Presently the magicians will come to seek out the Onmale. That
would have been me. Since I am gone the camp will be in turmoil. There will be
curses and shouts: high anger. The Emblems will run to their leap-horses, and
be off pellmell!” Once more Traz searched the horizons. “They’ll be along soon.”
    The two
walked, and reached the edge of the forest, still dark and dank and pooled with
night shadows. Traz hesitated, looking into the forest, then back across the
steppes.
    “How far to
the bog?” asked Reith.
    “Not far. A
mile or two. But I smell a berl.”
    Reith tested
the air and detected an acrid fetor.
    “It might be
only the spoor,” said Traz in a husky voice. “The Emblems will be here in a
very few minutes. We’d best try to reach the river.”
    “First the
ejection harness!”
    Traz gave a
fatalistic shrug, plunged into the