Andre Norton - Hosteen Storm 03 - Beast Master's Circus

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Since the dreaded Xik destroyed Earth, the corps of Beast Masters and the animal teams with which

they have telepathic rapport have served as sentinels against the Xik and other threats to colony worlds

throughout the galaxy.

Now a conspiracy with ties to the Thieves Guild is trying to kidnap the Beast Masters' team animals.

On one world after another, they are attacking Beast Masters and targeting their animals, leaving a trail of

dead or wounded Beast Masters and their animals in their wake. They haven't yet succeeded in capturing

one alive ... but they are still trying, and they're becoming more desperate—and bolder.

Laris is a young woman who works for a space-faring circus, a bonded slave to its manager. An

orphan with a troubled past, Laris is gifted with animals, a valuable asset to the circus and to her boss.

But she's learned that somehow there's a connection between him and the Thieves Guild, and also the

attempted abductions of Beast Masters' animals. She also knows that if her boss finds out what she has

discovered, it would make her a problem, and he usually disposes of problems.

When the circus lands on Arzor, home to Beast Masters Hosteen and Tani Storm, Laris feels a

kinship to them and to Hosteen's family, the Quades. She realizes, however, that she may be endangering

them by exposing them to the dark interest of her boss and his ill-intentioned friends. Hosteen and Tani

like Laris, too, as does Logan Quade. She would give anything to tell them her dangerous secret but

cannot. Because she knows that her friendship with the Beast Masters could be their downfall, as well as

her own!

ANDRE NORTON, named a Grand Master by the Science Fiction Writers of America and the

recipient of a Life Achievement World Fantasy Award, is the author of more than one hundred novels of

science fiction and fantasy adventure. Beloved by legions of readers the world over, she has thrilled

generations with such series as Beast Master, Time Traders, The Solar Queen, Witch World, and

others. She continues to write, and presides over a unique writers' resource, High Hallack, in

Murfreesboro, Tennessee. Visit her Web site at www.andre-norton.org.

LYN MCCONCHIE is the author, with Andre Norton, of Beast Master's Ark and other novels, as

well as her own fiction. A native of New Zealand, she has been awarded the Sir Julius Vogel Award for

Best Science Fiction or Fantasy Novel of 2002 by a New Zealander, for Beast Master's Ark.

BEAST MASTER'S CIRCUS

Andre Norton

And

Lyn McConchie

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are

used fictitiously.

BEAST MASTER'S CIRCUS

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Edited by James Frenkel

A Tor Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

175 Fifth Avenue

New York, NY 10010

www.tor.com

Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Norton, Andre.

Beast master's circus / Andre Norton and Lyn McConchie.—1st ed.

p. cm.

"A Tom Doherty Associates book."

ISBN 0-765-30042-7

1. Storm, Hosteen (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Human-animal communication—Fiction. 3. Life

on other planets—Fiction. 4. Circus performers—Fiction. 5. Space colonies—Fiction. I. McConchie,

Lyn, 1946—II. Title.

PS3527.O632B57 2004

813'.52—dc22

2003060697

First Edition: February 2004

Printed in the United States of America

0987654321

Dedication

To the cats whose lives have enlivened my own reading for so many

years. To Midnight Louie, and Carole Nelson Douglas. To Koko and

Yum Yum, and Lilian Jackson Braun. To Solomon, Sheba, Sealy,

ShebaLu, and Saska, and Doreen Tovey; and to the many cats, real and

fictional, of Andre Norton (Chang-Un in particular).

May they find Prauo a worthy successor.

—L.M.

Acknowledgments

To Jim Frenkel, Tor editor, who edited this book with considerable patience despite dealing with an

author who can't spell or punctuate, and has no computer-savvy whatsoever. Thanks.

To the computer-repair firm of StanCo, who rushed out several times to fix my printer on the spot so

I could produce this work. Thanks, Stan and Andrew.

And to the one, the only, the ubiquitous, Premier Ocispot Tigerman—my Ocicat—on some of whose

traits and abilities I based the character of Prauo, and without whose loving assistance this work would

have probably been finished a lot sooner.

Thanks, guys, I couldn't have done it without you.

Chapter One

Laris crouched over the new animal. It was gasping for breath still, but that would not last long. The

shock of its injuries and the pain of losing what meant most to it were draining both its strength and will to

live. Even as she worked, it gave one final, long, slow breath—and as that was released so was the poor

beast's life. She felt tears come to her eyes. She'd tried. She had. But that would buy her nothing from

those who employed her.

Nor did it. A moment later a whip sang, the lash burned across her thin shoulders, and she cried out,

twisting away.

"Dedran, no! I did my best. I can't work miracles."

She glared up at him. "If your people brought me anything but damaged goods mind-broken by the

way they were taken, I might have a chance."

The Circus Master glared down. Dedran was a lean, hard-looking man. His hair was that odd shade

of blond that looked almost white but his skin was a weathered brown. He'd fought with the Ishan forces

until his planet was destroyed almost five years earlier. What he'd been before that no one

knew—although they made guesses which could well have been right.

Dedran had never given anyone the impression he was rigidly honest. The Ishan forces had not cared,

their leader had taken the man in to fight, not to attend league meetings. In fact, Dedran had been a

criminal already allied with the rising Thieves Guild. He was a clever man with ideas. One of which had

been that it was safer to be given a weapon and encouraged to fight against the Xik than to hide without

arms and wait to be slaughtered. He'd bided his time, survived the destruction of his world, and made

sure of some very portable and valuable loot as he escaped the ruins of his planet.

He'd set up the circus after Ishan. Spent the two years before the war ended sorting out acts and

people to work for him. He seemed to have enough money to do it without problems. Within the circus

though there were hints that he owned only a part of it—that others had funded the business as a cover.

Laris could believe that. The circus had swept her up four years ago. She'd been a starving refugee from

one of the worlds cleared by the Xik, or so she believed. She'd been barely twelve, and remembered

little of her first years. The years after the loss of her home had been filled with dimly recalled moves:

being bundled into a ship and dumped on another world with no more than the clothes she stood up in

and her mother, who wept. She thought she might have been four or five then. Another move and

another, and her mother was gone. Another and still yet another until at last she was twelve and in a

camp with many others, none of whom she knew and most of whom spoke other languages or the

one-speech with strange accents. She'd fought first to survive, then to escape, sensing that if she stayed

within the camp she would become as hopeless as they.

Laris had a keen intelligence but had learned enough by the time she was alone to hide much of what

she knew. She looked younger than her true age and could appear younger still. People were more

careless around a child—both with talk and small change.

She'd found part-time employment in a pet shop run by an old man. He wasn't unkind but he

expected a full day's work for his credits. Sometimes the work was almost too much for the light-boned,

underfed girl but she always managed. She loved the beasts, and when he saw how well they responded

to her the owner gave her more responsibility. Then he died and her way of escape appeared closed.

There were other roads open but none that she would willingly take. At twelve she appeared to be

only nine or ten, and in any great city there was a market for that. Had she agreed, there were several,

including Mercer, the camp boss, who'd have found her employment. Laris was small and appeared

fragile. Yet for all that she showed promise of becoming not so much pretty as elegant. Her movements

were graceful, her cap of dark hair complemented the dark brown of her eyes, and her skin was a warm,

creamy, faintly olive shade. Her manner was self-contained and she unbent to few.

Why bother? Camp after camp had swept away her mother, her memories, and any earlier friends she

had made. Now she walked alone but for the one friend she'd kept these past few years. Prauo, whom

she cherished and trusted, loved as she'd had none to love for so long.

Dedran was back. "Don't sit there dreaming, you fool. Get that carcass cleaned up, take samples for

me, and make sure no one will find it afterward." He turned to leave, then swung back. "Your cat, he'll be

well enough to perform tonight?"

"Yes—at least—here?"

Dedran smiled hungrily. "Elsewhere, a climb maybe."

Laris considered. Prauo had been ill from another growth spurt but he was recovering. "So long as the

climb isn't too exhausting and he can rest once it's done."

Her employer nodded. "It's a straight job. If you and the cat do it well I may even toss you a half

credit or two." He laughed and strolled away, ignoring the look Laris gave him. Even after four years she

sometimes wondered how well she'd done to sign on with Dedran's Circus. But she'd had to get out of

the camp. With the pet shop owner's death her one obvious avenue of escape had closed.

She'd despaired; then Mercer, the camp boss, had come to her smiling and she'd cringed. It meant no

good for someone when the boss of the camp grinned so cheerfully. But, incredibly, it had meant good

for her. He'd towered over her, smirking down.

"You Laris? The one who's good with animals?" She'd nodded. Mercer nodded back. "You don't

look like much. Maybe that's an advantage. Come with me." She followed, hiding the inward sneer at his

pretense of not knowing her. He'd remembered her well enough last year when he'd wanted her to

accept work in a city place. He'd thought she looked like a lot then, a lot of credits. Now what did he

have in mind?

He'd taken her to Dedran. Both men had eyed her coldly. "This! You reckon this miserable thing'll be

any use to me?"

Mercer nodded. "She's been working in old man Plaistrin's shop the last year. He told me once she

was real good with the beasts. He was considering a contract. Reckon he'd a done it if'n he hadn't died."

Laris felt her heart jump. So near to escape and the old fool had to go and die. But what was she doing

here, another job with animals?

Dedran snorted. "All right. I'll test her. If she passes I'll take her on." He smiled viciously. "Five-year

bond and you get the bond money. I suppose she's yours to bond?"

Mercer looked at her and Laris understood. In the camp there was always talk; some escaped it in

various ways, and sometimes they returned to see friends or family. From them and their tales she had

learned all she could about conditions of freedom. What it meant to be bonded. If she were ever in that

position she must know what she would receive and what she could legally ask for. Here and now she

could speak out. Deny that Mercer had the right to give a bond for her. Dedran would walk away and

once she was back in the camp, she'd pay. But if she agreed she might have hope. She'd be out of the

camp, employed even if she was under bond. After five years she could leave with an honorably

canceled contract saying she'd had a good job these past five years. Or she might be able to stay, with a

new contract and good pay if she'd proved her worth.

Better yet, under bond she must be decently fed. Given respectable clothing. A bond-servant could

not be summarily judged or too badly beaten. There were always those who'd use too clear evidence of

abuse against the abuser. None of these things were hers in the camp; she'd be better off bonded.

She'd looked up innocently. "Yes, Honored Sir, the Noble Mercer can sell me if'n he wishes. I work

hard an' I'm good with the beasts."

"You'll sign the bond?"

"I'll sign," Laris agreed. And she had. In front of an overstuffed pompous official, whom she guessed

was collecting his share of the money. He'd attested that she appeared to be sixteen. Laris knew that for

a lie, but she had to be sixteen for the bond so she signed where she was told and agreed when she was

asked, that yes, she was sixteen years old.

After that she went with the two men to a building. She could feel her nerves tightening as they

approached the door. It was possible that the talk of animals had been a trick. That Mercer had sold her

for another purpose. But the smell as they entered reassured her, as did the animal sounds which rose in

the rank air. Mercer led them to a cage at the back. He gestured at the inhabitant.

"Lereyne tigerbat. The brute's gone into a decline and I paid high. Get in there and rouse it, make it

eat."

Laris sucked in a silent breath and bit down on a grin. The tigerbat had a very nasty reputation on its

home world which was quite justified. Tigerbat swarms had stripped humans to the bone in minutes, even

through reinforced clothing. In swarm, the beasts had no fear and would continue the attack despite

heavy losses. Lereyne settlers had almost wiped them out over three generations and now they were

seldom seen, although the stories remained.

But somewhere along the line, she didn't quite recall where or when, she'd learned to read. Old

Plaistrin had owned quite a library on other-world beasts. He'd loved to talk too, and he'd been both

fond of his merchandise and knowledgeable. She'd read and listened, soaked up everything she could.

She knew something about the tigerbats. She glanced around. The two men shifted to block her path and

she snorted.

"I'm not trying to run. I want a brush."

Dedran looked blank. "A brush? What kind of brush?"

"A grooming brush," Laris snapped. She saw one tossed on the top of another cage and reached.

Dedran allowed it. With the brush secured she turned back and looked at the door.

"Am I supposed to walk through plasteel bars or something?"

Dedran's look halted Mercer even as he snarled and drew back his fist. "No, I want to see this. If

she's as good as she thinks she is I want her in one piece."

He swung the door open and his eyes were amused. "In you go, Gracious Lady. You leave once that

brute has eaten—you or its food, I don't much care which."

Laris ignored him, stepping quietly toward the huddled animal. It whimpered quietly in its sleep.

Tigerbats were swarm animals. To keep one alone was to watch it die of loneliness, something Dedran

appeared to be unaware of. Moving slowly and quietly Laris swept the brush down the matted fur. She

worked gently, untangling the long pelt, grooming until the tigerbat lifted its head to stare at her. Then she

took up a piece of the meat. The tigerbat opened its mouth, revealing the massive fangs within. But the

feeling it gave off to her was one of pleasure. One had come to relieve its solitary state. One who

groomed the matted fur as a swarm member should.

As the men waited she fed the animal until it had eaten enough. She knew she must not overfeed one

which had not eaten well in too long. She returned to the grooming while the tigerbat lay there blinking

blissfully. When she stood it moved to cling to the bars, wings furled over its narrow shoulders. Yellow

eyes watched her hopefully.

She patted it. "Don't worry. I'll be back, I think." Dedran nodded at her before turning to Mercer. He

counted out credits into the camp boss's eager palm.

"She'll do."

The camp boss hurried away, leaving Dedran to look at Laris. "You know animals, it seems. What

else do you know?"

"I can read an' write," Laris told him, watching his surprise. "I work hard. And I can keep my mouth

shut an' my eyes an' ears open."

Dedran grinned briefly, a mere twist of his thin lips. "Then you may do well here. What do you read?"

"Books about animals. So's I can learn more about them."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I've got no objections to that. Do your work and when it's done you can

access the library."

Dedran had been as good as his word. In the last four years Laris had read freely, more freely than

her master had known. There were ways to earn a credit or two as the circus traveled. And ways

on-planet to untraceably access information once one had those credits. With the war over, Dedran had

purchased an old cargo ship, packed his beasts and staff within, and upped ship. Laris guessed he had

other reasons beyond the claimed one of bringing entertainment to the human-settled planets. Sometimes

they stopped so briefly they could manage only a handful of sold-out shows. Clearly they could have

stayed at a profit, but they moved on. At other times they played to half-or quarter-filled houses and must

have lost money, but they remained several weeks. It wasn't a large circus. There were some thirty

beasts, many which were no bigger than a Terran dog. In fact, they had two of those who did an act with

two Trastorian carra. Later the carra did a clown act with their trainer and the dogs often joined that as

well.

Dedran saw to it that mostly the animals were decently fed, housed, and well-treated. On her own

initiative Laris had taught herself and the carra a trapeze act. Dedran had been pleased with that and her

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SincethedreadedXikdestroyedEarth,thecorpsofBeastMastersandtheanimalteamswithwhichtheyhavetelepathicrapporthaveservedassentinelsagainsttheXikandotherthreatstocolonyworldsthroughoutthegalaxy.NowaconspiracywithtiestotheThievesGuildistryingtokidnaptheBeastMasters'teamanimals.Ononeworldafteranother,theya...

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Andre Norton - Hosteen Storm 03 - Beast Master's Circus

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