Andre Norton - Yurth Burden

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2024-12-24 0 0 213.34KB 128 页 5.9玖币
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Yurth Burden
b Andre Norton
1.
The Raski girl made Demon Horns with two fingers of her left hand and spat b
etween them. That droplet of moisture landed, dust covered, on the rutted cl
ay of the road just missing the edge of Elossa's stained travel cloak. She d
id not look at the girl but kept her eyes turned to those distant mountain r
ises, her goal.
In the town hate was a foul cloud to stifle her. She should have avoided th
e village. None of Yurth blood ever went into one of the native holdings if
they could help it. Broadcast hate so deep gnawed at one's Upper Sense, cl
ouded reception, muddied the thoughts. But she had had to have food. A tumb
le on a stream's stepping stones in the past evening dusk had turned the su
pplies she carried in her belt pouch into a sticky mess she had jettisoned
that morning.
The merchant whose stall she had visited had been surly and sullen. However
, he had not had the courage to refuse her when she made a quick choice. Al
l those eyes, and the waves of hate. . . . Now, when she judged she was wel
l beyond the girl who had given her that last salute, Elossa walked faster.
A Yurth man or woman moved with dignity among the Raski, just as they ign
ored the natives, looking over and around them as if they were not Yurth
and Raski were as different as light and dark, mountain and plain, heat a
nd cold. There was no common ground for their meeting ever.
Yet they shared the same world, ate the same food, breathed the same air. Eve
n some among her kin had dark hair resembling that the Raski wore in tight ro
lls about their heads, and their skins were not unlike in color. That of the
Raski might be brown by birth, but the Yurth, living as they did ever under t
he sky and the fierce sun, also tanned darkly. Put a Yurth, even herself, int
o the bodice and ankle-sweeping skirt of the girl who had so graphically made
her hate clear, let her hair grow and twist it up, and she might have looked
no, or little, different. It was only in the mind, she thought, that Yurth s
tood apart.
It had always been so. The Upper Sense was a Yurth child's from birth. He o
r she was trained in its use before plain talk came from the lips. For the
Upper Sense was all which stood between them and utter annihilation.
Zacar was not an easy world. Storms of terrible force came in the bleak sea
son, sealing Yurth clans into their mountain burrows, blasting, and overwhe
lming the towns and the dwelling on the plains. Wind, hail, freezing winds,
rain in drowning torrents. . . . All life sought shelter when those struck
. That is why the Pilgrimage was only possible during the two months of ear
ly autumn, why she must hurry to find her goal.
Elossa dug her staff point into the crumbling clay and turned aside from th
e road which served farms she could see, the houses squatting drably some d
istance ahead. For the road, such as it was, angled away from the mountains
she must reach. She longed to be out of the plains, higher up into the pla
ces of her own heritage, where one could breathe air untainted by dust, thi
nk thoughts unassailed by the hate which clogged about any Raski gathering
place.
That she must make this journey alone was in keeping with the custom of her
people. On the day the clan women had gathered to bring her staff, cloak,
supply bag, she had known a sinking of heart which was not quite fear. To t
ravel out into the unknown alone. . . . But that was the heritage of Yurth,
and each girl and boy did so when their bodies were ready for the duties o
f Elders, their minds fallow enough to receive the Knowledge. Some never re
turned. Those who did were-changed.
They were able to set up barriers between themselves and their fellows, sea
ling out thought talk when they wished. Also they were graver, preoccupied,
as if some part of the Knowledge, or perhaps the whole of it, had been a b
urden fastened on them. But they were Yurth, and as Yurth must return to th
e cradle of the clan, accept the Knowledge, however bitter or troublesome t
hat might be.
It was the Knowledge which would itself guide them to their goal. They mus
t leave their minds open until a thought thread would draw them. The comin
g of that was the command they must obey. She had tramped for four days no
w, the strange urgency working ever in her, bringing her by the shortest r
oute across the plains to the mountains she now faced, the land no one vis
ited now unless the Call came.
She had often speculated with those of her own birth age as to what must l
ie there. Two of their company had gone and returned. However, to ask them
what they had done, or seen, was forbidden by custom. The barrier was alr
eady set in them. Thus the mystery always remained a mystery until one was
led oneself to discover the truth.
Why did the Raski hate them so, Elossa wondered. It must be because of the
Upper Sense. The plains dwellers lacked that. But there was something else.
She was different from the hoose, the kannen, all the other life which Yur
th respected and strove to aid. She did not wear upon her body, slender ben
eath her enveloping cloak, dust plastered from the road, fur or scales. Yet
there was no hate for her in the minds of those others. Wariness, yes, if
the creature was new come into the places of the clan. But that was natural
. Why, then, did those who possessed bodies like her own beat at her with b
lack hate in their thoughts if she was forced by some chance to move among
them as she had done this morning?
Yurth did not seek to command-even those of lesser and weaker minds. All c
reatures had their limitations- even as did the Yurth. Some of her kin wer
e keener witted, faster to mind-speak, producing thoughts which were new,
unusual enough to make one chew upon them in solitude. But Yurth did not h
ave rulers or ruled. There were customs, such as the Pilgrimage, which all
followed when the time was ripe. Still no one ordered that this be so. Ra
ther did those obeying such customs recognize within themselves that this
must be done without question.
Twice, she had heard, in the years before her birth, long ago by the reckoni
ng of the clan, the King-Head of the Raski had sent armies to seek out and d
estroy the Yurth. Once those reached the mountains they had fallen into the
net of illusions which the Elders could weave at will.
Men broke out of disciplined companies, wandered lost, until they were subt
ly set back on their path again. Into the mind of the King-Head himself was
inserted a warning. So that when his brave soldiers came straggling back,
foot worn, exhausted, he returned to his city stronghold, and did not plan
a third mountain expedition. Thereafter the Yurth were let strictly alone a
nd the mountain land was theirs.
But among the Raski there were rulers and ruled, and they were, as far as El
ossa had been able to tell, the sorrier for that. Some men and women toiled
all their lives that others might live free and turn their hands to no task.
That this was a part of their otherness was true, and perhaps those who toi
led had little liking for it. Did they hate their masters with some of the s
ame black hatred that they turned toward the Yurth? Was that hate rooted in
a bitter and abiding envy of the freedom and fellowship of the clans? But ho
w could that be, what Raski knew how the clans lived? They lacked the mind-s
peak and could not so rove away from their bodies to survey what lay at a di
stance.
Elossa quickened pace again. To be away from this! She was fanciful. Surely
no tongue of that black ill-wishing she had "seen" with the Upper Sense re
ached after her like the claws of a sargon. Fancies such as that were for c
hildren, not one old enough to be summoned for the Pilgrimage. The sooner,
however, that she was in the foothills, the more at ease she would be.
Thus she walked steadily as the fields about gave way from ordered rows of
grain to pasturage, well grazed by hoose teeth. Those patient animals thems
elves raised their heads as she passed. She gave them silent greeting, whic
h seemed so much to astound them that here and there one shook its head or
snorted. A younger one came trotting to parallel her way, watching her, Elo
ssa felt, wistfully. In its mind she detected a dim memory of running free
with no rein or lead cord to check that racing.
She paused to give it the blessing of food forage and pleasant days. Back to
her came wonder and pleasure in return. Here was one ruled, and yet those w
ho ruled it did not know what manner of life it really was. Elossa wished th
at she might open the gate of all these pastures, let loose those the fences
kept in restraint, that they might have the freedom only one remembered so
dimly.
Yet it was also laid straightly upon the Yurth that they must not attempt to
change in any way the life of the Raski or their servants. To do so meant usi
ng the Yurth gifts and talents in the wrong manner. Only in some crisis, to d
efend their own lives, might the Yurth cast illusions before their attackers.
Now the pastures disappeared; she entered the foothills of the mountains. Th
e way was rough, but to Elossa it was familiar. She threw off the last of th
e shadow which had troubled her since she had come through the town. Luting
her head, she allowed the hood of her cloak to slip back so that the wind mi
ght run fingers through her pale, fine hair, bring fresh breath to her lungs
.
She found faint traces of paths. Perhaps the townspeople came hunting here or
they fed their stock among these hills. Yet there was no sign that such trai
ls had been recently used. Then, upon climbing the top of one ascent, she sig
hted something else, a monolith taller than she when it stood upright, as it
must once have been. It was not native to this place, for the rock was not th
e dull gray of that which surfaced here and through the scanty soil, rather a
red, like the black-red of blood which had congealed in the sun.
Elossa shivered, wondering why such a dark thought had crossed her mind whe
n she sighted that toppled stone. She shrank from it, so with the disciplin
e of her kind she made herself approach closer. As she drew near she saw th
e rock had been carved, though time and erosion had blunted and worn those
markings. What was left was only the suggestion of a head. Yet the longer E
lossa stared at it, the more that same stifling uneasiness which had ridden
her in the town arose to hasten her breathing, make her want to run.
The face was Raski in general outline, still it held some other element which
was alien, dreadfully alien-threatening in spite of the veil the wearing of
time had set upon it A warning? Set here long ago to turn back the wayfarer,
promising such danger ahead that its marker had been able to give it that dis
tinctly evil cast?
The workmanship was not finished, smoothly done. Rather the rugged crudene
ss of its fashioning added to the force of the impression it made upon the
viewer. Yes, it must be most decidedly a warning!
Elossa, with an effort, turned her back upon the thing, surveyed what lay be
yond. With eyes taught by all her mountain training to study and evaluate te
rrain she caught another remnant of the far past: there had once been a road
from this point on.
Stones had been buried by landslips, pushed aside by stubborn growth of bus
h and small tree. But the very grading which had been done for the placemen
t of those stones had altered the natural contours of the land enough for h
er to be sure.
A road of stone? Such were only found near the cities of the King-Head. Labo
r in making such was very hard and would not have been wasted to fashion the
entrance into the mountains, in the normal course of events. Also this was
very, very old. Elossa went to the nearest of the stones, its edge upthrust
as it lay nearly buried in the grass. She knelt and laid her hand upon it, r
eaching with thought to read. . . .
Faint, too faint to make any clear impression for her. This had returned to t
he wilds very long ago. So far in the past that the land had accepted it back
, laid its own seal upon it. She could sense the trail of a sand lizard, the
paw touch of a bander; what lay behind those in time was nothing she could se
ize upon.
The pavement itself headed for the mountain she must climb, and to use the f
aint traces of it would lighten her way a little, aid to save her strength f
or the more difficult task ahead. Deliberately she turned into the roadway.
Once a way of importance, it must have been sealed, forgotten, and the falle
n monolith set to forbid entrance. Who had done this and why? The curiosity
of Yurth minds possessed her; as she went she kept looking for any hint of w
hat had been the purpose of this road.
The farther she advanced along the vestige of highway the more Elossa marvel
ed at the skill and labor which had gone into its making. It did not take th
e easiest way, twisting and turning, as did the game trails and footpaths of
the mountains she knew, or the clay-surfaced roads of the plains, rather it
cut through all obstacles, as if its stubborn makers would tame the land to
serve them.
She came to a place where slides had, in a measure, covered what had been a c
ut into the side of the mountain itself, picking her way over the debris left
by those slides with a stout aid of her staff. Still the road headed in her
direction, and, because her curiosity was now aroused, she determined to see
where it might lead. Though it could be, that before its goal was reached, sh
e must turn aside to fulfill her own quest.
There were no more of such worn-off stones as that left below, but at interv
als she did sight small ones, several still upright. On those there were tra
ces of carving, but so worn that the markings were only shadows. None of the
se gave her the feeling of discomfort as had the one below. Perhaps they had
been set another time and certainly for other purposes.
It was in the shadow of such a one that Elossa sat to eat at nooning. She ne
ed not even use the liquid in her water flask, for only a short distance awa
y a rill from some higher mountain spring had made a runnel for itself. The
murmur of running water was loud enough to be heard. She felt at peace, at o
ne with what lay about her.
Then-that peace was shattered!
Her mind-seek lazily reaching out to engulf the freedom and quiet, brushed
upon thought! One of the clans on the same Pilgrimage? There were other c
lans cross mountain with whom her own people had little contact save durin
g wintering. No, in that short touch she had not caught the familiar recog
nition which would have signaled Yurth-even Yurth traveling with a closed
mind.
If it was not Yurth, then it was Raski. For no animal registered so. A hu
nter? She dared not probe, of course. Though the Raski hatred was dampene
d by fear, who knew what might chance were a Raski, away from his own kin
d, to encounter a single Yurth? She remembered now those on the Pilgrimag
e who had never returned. There were many explanations-a fall among rocks
, a sickness away from all help, yes, even perhaps death by intent from s
ome menace they could not restrain by the Upper Sense. Prudence must be h
er guide now.
Elossa pulled tight the string of her food bag, picked up her staff, got to h
er feet. No more easy way by the road. She must put her mountain knowledge to
the test. No Raski had the skill of the Yurth in the heights. If she was ind
eed the quarry now, she was sure she could outdistance her trailer.
The girl began to climb, not with any spurt of speed-who knew-this chase mi
ght be a long one and she must conserve her strength. Also she could not st
retch the power too far, keeping in touch with the pursuer and still sense
out any trouble ahead. That lightest of mind-probes could only be made at i
ntervals, to be sure she was being trailed and not that the other was going
about some business of his own on the lower reaches.
2.
At a point well above the forgotten road Elossa paused to take a breath or
two, allow her mind-search to range below. Yes, he was still on a course
which brought him in her wake. She frowned a little. Though she had taken
precautions against such a thing yet she had not really believed it would
happen. No Raski ever hunted Yurth. This trailing was unheard of among her
people since the great defeat of the King-Head Philoar two generations ag
o. Why?
She could stop him, she believed. Illusion, mind-touch-oh, yes, if she wan
ted to bring her own talent into use, she had weapons enough. But there re
mained what lay ahead of her. When one set out upon the Pilgrimage there w
as no hint given by those who had made it of what might be expected. Howev
er, there were some warnings and orders, the foremost of those being that
she would need all her talent to face what lay ahead.
It was the nature of the Upper Sense in itself that it was not a steady thi
ng, always remaining at the same force no matter how one used it No, it wax
ed and waned, must be stored against some sudden demand. She dared not exha
ust what she might need later merely to turn back a stranger who might come
this way by chance and did not really trail her.
Night was not far off and nights in the mountains were chill. Best find a pl
ace to hole up for the dark, cold hours. With eyes used to such a task, Elos
sa surveyed what lay ahead. So far this upward slope had not been enough to
tax her strength greatly, but she noted that there were sharper rises beyond
. Those she would leave, if she could, for the morning.
She now stood on a ledge which, to her right, widened out. Some drifts of s
oil there gave rootage to small bushes and grass. Bearing in that direction
she came out into a pocket-sized meadow. The same stream which had given h
er drink near the ancient road fed a spring pool here. Her sweep of mind-se
arch touched birds, several of the small rock-living rodents, nothing more
formidable.
Dropping her staff and bag on the edge of the pool, Elossa knelt to splash
the water over her face, wash away the clogging dust of the plains. She dra
nk from cupped hands, then took from the breast of her jerkin a disc of met
al depending from a twisted chain. Holding this flat on her palm, she gave
a last survey, with eye and mind, of her immediate surroundings, making sur
e she dared to slacken her guard for a short time.
Nothing near which need be watched with caution, though perhaps she was indu
lging in folly to try this. Still, it was best she knew who or what did foll
ow. If the climber was a hunter, well enough. But Raski acting out of tradit
ion-that was something else again.
She looked down at the plaque of metal. Its surface was clear, but strangel
y enough did not reflect her face. The disk remained completely blank. Elos
sa drew upon her power of concentration. Try first to envision something sh
e knew existed in order to prove what she might later see was not just fanc
y born from her own imagination without her being aware.
The pillar of warning. There was a ripple on the mirror-not-mirror she held.
Tiny, a little fuzzy, since distance also influenced reception, the fallen
block of stone with a malignant face, now in more shadow with the passing of
day, appeared.
Well enough, reception was working. Now for her follower, which would be a
far more difficult task since she had never seen him and must project fro
m mind-touch alone. Warily, very slowly, she sent out the questing thought
.
It touched, held. She waited for a long moment. If the trailer were conscious
of the probe there would be instant response. She would then break that tenu
ous linkage at once. But he did not react to her delicate probing. So, she ap
plied a stronger send, staring down into the mirror.
Far more fuzzy than the pillar, yes, because she dared not reinforce the lin
kage past the power she now exerted. But there was a small figure on the mir
ror. He was dressed in the leather of a Raski-a hunter surely, for he had a
bow and a bow case, though he also wore a short sword. His face she could no
t see, but the emanations of the mind-touch suggested he was young. And. . .
.
Elossa blinked, instantly broke the contact. No, the response had not been t
hat of Yurth. Yet that other had come to know that he was under her inspecti
on-not clearly. He had been alerted only into uneasiness.
She considered that with a small measure of unbelief. By all the standards
of her own people such awareness among the Raski was impossible. If they
had had any of the Upper Sense they could never have been deceived by illu
sions. Still she was also certain that what she had read in those few mome
nts before she had severed linkage had been right He knew! Knew enough to
sense she was probing.
Which made him dangerous. She could, of course, induce an illusion. It woul
d not last long, no one Yurth had the power to hold such; it required a uni
ting of energy of many to produce that. But, she sat back and stared into t
he beginnings of a sunset There were several illusions, useful, the materia
lization of a sargon for example. No man could hope to stand up to one of t
hose furred killers who killed to drink blood, and which were known to den
among the heights. So insane were they that even Yurth could not control th
em more than to turn them for a space from the path they followed. They cou
ld not be mind-spoke, for they had not real minds only a chaos of blind fer
ocity and a devouring need for blood.
An excellent choice and. . . .
Elossa tensed. Sargon? But there was a sargon! Not downslope where she had
thought to place her illusion, but up mountain. And it was headed toward
her! Water-of course-water was needful to all life. This pool beside which
she now sat might be the only water for some distance. She had noted the
prints in its clay verge of wild birds as well as the lesser paw marks of
the monu and mak. Water would draw the sargon.
Nor had this one eaten lately. The consciousness, such as this beast had, w
as all raging hunger near overwhelming thirst Hunger, she must play upon th
at!
No sargon could be turned aside by illusion, and she could not alter its pa
th either. The beast's hunger was too great. Swiftly she loosed mind-search
. There was a rog, one of the dangerous beasts who also laired among the mo
untains. Was it too far away? Elossa could not be sure. It depended upon ho
w hungry the sargon was.
Now working with precision, she fed into that swirling pit of ferocious desir
e the impression of the rog . . . near. . . . Not only would that mean food a
nd blood to the rabid hunter, but rage at the invasion of what it considered
its own hunting ground. For two great carnivores could not occupy the same te
rritory without a battle-not two of these breeds.
She was succeeding! Elossa knew a flash of elation which she quickly dam
pened. Overconfidence was the worst error any Yurth might pay for. But t
he beast on the slope well above her had caught her suggestion, was angl
ing away from the pool meadow. Now the wind blowing down mountain brough
t a trace of rank scent.
Rog, that way, she continued to beam. Yes, the sargon was definitely changin
g course. She must monitor, though, continue to. . . .
All this was a drain on her power which she had not foreseen.
Elossa held fast. The rank stench grew stronger. That the sargon could pick
up her own body scent she did not fear. Long ago the Yurth had discovered
various herbal infusions for both the skin and the inner parts of their bod
ies which destroyed the normal odors such beasts could pick up.
The sargon was running now, the momentum of down-slope adding to its norma
l high speed when on a trail. Already it had passed the meadow and was wel
l below her own position. It was time to withdraw that prick of mind-goad.
There was a rog, sooner or later that. . . .
Her head jerked. The now gathering dusk in the lower reaches of the mountain
摘要：

YurthBurdenbAndreNorton1.TheRaskigirlmadeDemonHornswithtwofingersofherlefthandandspatbetweenthem.Thatdropletofmoisturelanded,dustcovered,ontheruttedclayoftheroadjustmissingtheedgeofElossa'sstainedtravelcloak.Shedidnotlookatthegirlbutkepthereyesturnedtothosedistantmountainrises,hergoal.Inthetownhatew...

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