Eric Flint: The Sorceress of Karres

Why, big dream thing? They're getting very worried behind the wall, by the way. They can't hear you.

"Because you've been using us to play your game. And it's not a game."

But you've used me. And anyway I thought you said it would be good to get rid of the eater-dream things.

There was some justice in what she said, Goth had to admit. They had used vatches. Vatches had used them too, particularly the captain, before he had turned the tables on them. Now…

"I will fight," said Ta'zara.

"No need… "

"I have a need," said Ta'zara. "I would like to get rid of the Cannibals. They killed my people. It would be good if I could free the galaxy of them." The big man flexed his muscles. "It would be worth dying for."

"It hasn't come to that," said the Leewit firmly.

There was a faraway look in the man's eyes. "No price would be too high."

"We need to extract a price from the Illtraming, though," said Goth.

"Like what?" asked the Leewit.

Pausert frowned. "Like pulling back their ships and keeping them here, in the Megair cluster. They're not really conqueror material, I don't think. But we need to bargain a bit."

"They'll be longing to get back to the rain and misery most of the time," agreed Goth. "And we'll need a culture of that virus. I don't think we want it loose, but we want to have it. There are people on Karres who are really good with that sort of thing. It's like the Karres green thumb. I can't think of anything else we want."

"I have the Karres black thumb," said the Leewit cheerfully.

"Let's talk details with them, before they get too suspicious and before my feet freeze right off," said Goth, snapping the spyshield off.

The little Illtraming stood looking curiously at them. "My associates wish to know how you did that?"

"It is just one of the things Karres does," said Pausert loftily. "How can we get there?"

"We have transportation and direct access to their amphitheater. And they are in leadership challenges at the moment."

"Well, we need you to provide us with a safe, sealed culture of the virus."

"We would be glad to do that."

"And we want you to pull all your ships back from the Chaladoor, and stop making more."

There was a silence. Eventually the little Illtraming spoke. "At the moment we have pulled all our ships back here. We patrol the Chaladoor because out of the rifts in spacetime came Manaret and the things you call the Megair Cannibals."

"Doesn't seem to me that you did too well on either of those," said Pausert.

"True. But we have dealt with lesser problems. It is not a safe zone of space. So we drove all other ships out of it."

"Yeah, well, most people considered that you were part of the reason it was unsafe. Now do you agree or not?" said the Leewit. And added a word in a foreign tongue that made the little Illtraming open and close his mouth like a fish.

"We agree," said the Illtraming.

"We have ways of holding you to your word," said Pausert.

"We will honor our bargain," said the little creature. "Follow me." A door slid open in the featureless wall behind him. There was a wet passage there, lit by greenish lights. A sleek craft waited for them. Sleek, and somehow reminiscent of the Phantom ships.

"We will take you to the Cannibal arena. I assume that you will then employ the device you use to make yourselves look like the gray ones.

Goth hadn't thought that far ahead.

Ta'zara had. "I fight as myself."

"You let me do the talking," said the Leewit crossly.

"Of course. I cannot speak their language," said Ta'zara. Goth had a feeling he was deliberately misunderstanding her, but she wasn't about to point this out to the Leewit.

"But will they allow Ta'zara to fight?" asked Goth.

"We'll just have to see that they do," said Pausert. "Have you worked out what the alternative is for them? Starvation and eating each other. This place doesn't have something they need. I don't like them either, but this really will be the best solution for them."

The arena was bloody. Gwarrr the great eater stood as the body was hauled away for butchering. Yes. Many things had gone wrong. Inevitably he and his had been challenged. But no matter how many strange things had happened he was still the greatest. The eater of foes. He was Gwarrr.

The noise in the arena was suddenly still.

All eyes looked at something, something behind him. He whipped around to face it.

It was one of the tattooed men. They were something of a legend among the eaters. They'd been the greatest of the other races to face them since the evil time when the eaters had come to this place.

"I am Ta'zara. I have come to challenge."

The tattooed man spoke the language of the eaters as if he was born to it. And at a suitable volume to make himself heard in the furthest seats, to the no-bone men in the back row.

"You are one of the lesser people. You cannot challenge," Gwarrr said dismissively. He made a gesture. "Kill him."

Several of the arena guards took the wonderful opportunity and flung themselves onto the kill. Ta'zara just stood there. The Cannibals bounced off a solidness, without quite touching him. It was as if an invisible wall kept them off.

One of the guards produced a jangler. It did not have any effect. In fact it did not seem to have made actual contact. Another drew a blaster looted from some unfortunate spacer. It too had no effect at all.

"I am Ta'zara. Are you too afraid of my challenge, Gwarrr?"

Gwarrr was not sure where it started… But the other Cannibals began to call for it.

"Gwarrr, fight!" the chant began. Louder, and louder. Tumultuous.

And the leader of the eaters knew he had little choice.

"I will fight."

He was Gwarrr. He had killed several hundred. He would eat this one's finger too.

The captain took away the cocoon shield, as the huge Megair Cannibal stormed in. Pausert was a lot less confident than the Leewit was about her champion. He was ready to use the shield again at any moment. And Goth, he would bet, was ready to intervene too. He wondered just what she would teleport into the fight that would do much good, though. Even as quickly as her klatha powers had grown lately, she was still sharply limited when it came to mass. And while a small rock could do wonders inserted into delicate machinery, he was pretty sure a Megair Cannibal would barely notice it.

But the Leewit was right, this time. Ta'zara used his opponent's strength against him, catching and accelerating his lashing long nailed foot and sending it skywards. Gwarrr landed hard. Ta'zara let him get up. This time the Cannibal was more cautious. He attempted to close with the tattooed man… who grabbed his arms, and fell backwards… somehow planting both feet in Gwarrr's stomach, and tossing him into the air, to bounce across the arena. And that was just Ta'zara getting warmed up. He proceeded to use Gwarrr as a bouncing ball and throw-toy. The captain didn't want to watch after a while. The Cannibal audience did. Gwarrr was their great eater. But he had finally bitten off more than he could chew, and Ta'zara was making sure that the audience knew it.

It was a fight that could only have one end.

Pausert was glad that Ta'zara had colluded with Goth to do a light shift of him biting off that finger.

Ta'zara walked over to the champion's chair as they dragged Gwarrr away.

"Eat," he said, as the Illtraming had explained was the tradition. "Tomorrow we return to our own place. We leave this accursed place forever. Every ship and every eater." The Leewit was proud of that speech.

There was silence.

"But… the enemy ships," said someone, querulously.

"Do you challenge my leadership?" said the Leewit, through the finger-bone shaped speaker. The Illtraming, she had to admit, were good artificers. "I have come to lead you home."