The Ringworld Throne by Larry Niven Read Free Book Online

and rished and rished, and our minds seeped back to us with not a heartbeat to spare. A half circle of those pale things was closing on us. The rain must have washed away some of the scent. I saw crossbows lying all around us. Grass Giant warriors have been stumbling down the wall all night long, dropping crossbows and anything else they’re carrying—“
    “We picked up crossbows,” the Grass Giant woman cut in. “I saw Makee lying dead with a vampire in his arms and a bolt through both of them, and his quiver dropped beside him. Picked up the quiver and dumped it and pushed a handful of bolts at Barok and shot the nearest vampire. Then the next.”
    “At first I couldn’t cock the crossbow.”
    “Then the next. Is that why you were screaming? We never talked till after.”
    “Scream and pull. Scream for strength,” Barok said. “Your cursed tools aren’t built for tiny little Machine People.”
    Vala asked, “You were out there all night?”
    Wemb nodded. Barok said, “When the rain started to slack off, I got us towels. There were heaps of towels.” His grip was painful. “Kay, Vala, we saw why.”
    “Warriors walked past us,” Wemb said. “I shot Heerst in the leg, but he just kept walking, following the singing. Vampires came up to him and pulled the towel off his face and led him away. He’s my son.”
    “If something is covering your face, they pull it off! Heerst was using fuel in his towel. Rain washes it out. We looked for towels that had—Wemb?”
    “Pepperleek. Minch.”
    “Yes, those kept their scent. They kept us alive, the towels and the rishathra. Any time it was too much for us, we rished. And crossbow bolts. The guards were dropping their swords and crossbows but not their quivers. We had to go looking. Rob the dead.”
    “I saw what I didn’t understand,” Wemb said. “I should tell the Thurl. Vampires rished with some of us, then led them away into the high grass and farther. Why keep them alive? Are they still alive?”
    Vala said, “The Ghouls might know.”
    “Ghouls keep Ghoul secrets,” Wemb said.
    The clouds had closed again. In the dark Barok said, “I shot the vampire who was leading Anth away. It took two bolts. Another picked up the song, and I shot her. Anth followed a third woman, and by that time he was out of range. They led him into the grass. I never saw him again. Should I have shot him ?”
    They only looked at him.
    “I can’t keep vigil with you,” Barok said. “I can’t face rishathra now. My head is too—I don’t know if I can make you see—“
    They squeezed his arms and tried to assure him that they understood. They left him there.

Chapter THREE—THE GATHERING STORM
    The tent huddled beneath the walk but faced outward into an arc of gray sheets.
    The corpses were laid head-to-head, two giants to a sheet, or four vampires. Giants had found Anthrantillin and his crewman Himapertharee and laid them out on one sheet. Taratarafasht and Foranayeedli must be still missing. Another sheet held six tiny Gleaner dead.
    The giants had nearly finished making their patterns. Tiny hominids moved about them, not helping much, but carrying food or light loads. All wore sheets with holes in them for the head to poke through.
    A Grass Giant could lift a vampire with no difficulty. It took two to carry a dead giant.
    But Beedj was carrying a dead Grass Giant woman across his back. He rolled the woman off his shoulders to slump across a sheet, perfectly placed. He took her hand and spoke to her sadly. Vala changed her mind about disturbing him.
    Two women finished laying out more vampire dead. One approached. “We rubbed pepperleek along the rims of the sheets. Stop small scavengers,” Moonwa said to the three Machine People. “Big scavengers we can crossbow. Ghouls won’t have to fight for what’s theirs.”
    “A polite notion,” Valavirgillin said. Tables would have raised the dead out of a scavenger’s reach; but where would Grass Giants find