Butler, Octavia - Survivor

She told him of her visits to the prisoners, of how they had at first refused to eat. That brought more yellow to his coloring.

“And do they all eat now? Has Cheah satisfied them?”

“Most ate today. Tomorrow, I think they will all eat.”

“Then you know how careful you must be. Once their Garkohn guards see that they are all eating, they might decide to tamper with the food whether Natahk has ordered it or not. And he probably has. Deception is easier and safer than force.”

“When will you free them?” she asked.

He thought about it. “I would have done it tonight, had you not managed to get food to them. But now… They will be better able to co-operate with their rescuers when they have all eaten. Also, it would be better if I gave Verrick time to finish his withdrawal. He will need his strength to face the Garkohn when Natahk learns of the escape.” He paused for a moment. “I will wait three days more.”

She felt cold suddenly as she realized that by feeding the prisoners, she had probably saved Jules’s life. If Natahk lost his prisoners and found the leader of his captive Missionaries in the process of breaking free of the meklah, he might be angry enough to kill. But in three more days, Jules would surely be through his withdrawal. Perhaps he would even be strong enough to pretend that the withdrawal had not taken place. At least, he would be strong enough to face Natahk. Alanna had made it possible for Diut to give him that much. Now if only Diut could give him the other thing that he and the Missionaries needed so desperately: A new start.

“How will it be for them in the north?” she asked. “Very bad?”

“Drier,” he said. “Colder. They will live if they want life badly enough.”

“But there are no people there?”

“None.”

“They will live then.” She meant it. The Missionaries were resourceful and their Mission drove them. They could win a struggle against the elements as they and their ancestors had won many such struggles on Earth. Here, as on Earth, it was the struggle against more numerous other peoples that had stopped them.

Diut looked at her. “If Verrick wishes it, I will send a few Tehkohn with him to teach him the best ways of living there.”

She did not have to think to realize that such help could save many lives. She lifted her hand in quick gratitude to lose it in the fur of his throat. He covered it for a moment with his own.

“I did not know how you would greet me when I came here tonight,” he said softly.

She looked at him, startled.

“I wondered whether you would relearn your old way of seeing me, as a distortion of what should be. I looked at you with your Missionaries and tried to see you as one of them.”

“So? And what did you see?”

“That you feared for them. That you were much interested in saving them.”

Alanna met his eyes. “I am, yes. How could I not be?”

“You are one who bargains, Alanna. Are you bargaining with me now for the safety of your people?”

“Yes.”

He stared at her for a long moment without speaking. Then he lay back on the bed. There was white suddenly in his coloring. Amusement. But she knew him now and she was not surprised. “You will never say what I expect you to say. You don’t change.”

“I’ve changed,” she said.

“What do you want of me? Only help for your Missionaries?”

“What should I want of you? We’ve made a child together, you and I. What should I want of my husband?”

He sat up and pulled her close. “Tahneh spoke to me before I left the mountains.” This was the other Hao, the old woman. “She comes with her advice, you know. She said, ‘Let her go with her people if she wants to go. Show her yellow if she wants it and leave her. Let her go or stay of her own free will.’”

“She knew I wouldn’t go,” said Alanna. “She wanted you to know.”

He said nothing.

“In a way, it will be harder for me now,” she continued. “The Missionaries will be so far away… But I couldn’t leave with them. I’m less one of them now than ever. And there is no man for me among them.”

“I have already seen that.”

She glanced at him sharply.

“All right,” he said, reading her expression. “I’ll leave you to insult them yourself.”

“I wasn’t insulting them. I only meant…”

He put a hand over her mouth, his coloring fading to white. “They are blue people, Alanna. All blue. Wholly admirable.”

Alanna sighed and shook her head. He could be as condescending, as patronizing, toward the Missionaries as most Missionaries were toward the Kohn. But now was not the time to argue with him about it.

He smoothed her hair. “And worthy people that they are, they no longer need you.” His tone changed, became more serious. “It would cause no real hardship among them if you left them now—went with the prisoners when they escape.”

She spoke quickly, concealing her alarm. “No, Diut. It would cause worse than hardship. Natahk would tell Jules where I had gone and why. And whether Jules fully believed him or not, he would be in no mood to trust you when you visited him again.”

“Natahk will speak eventually regardless of what you do. If he tells what he knows while you’re here, the Missionaries will kill you.”

“I know the risk,” she said. “And I’m not eager to take it. But I don’t want the Missionaries to die because my going made them too suspicious to trust you.”

“It is not likely that they will. Verrick will not like having to trust me if Natahk plants suspicion in his mind, but he will have no choice. He can escape this valley only by co-operating with me. He will understand that—as you understand it.” He looked at her silently for a moment. “You know your work here is done. Why do you resist leaving?”

“I cannot go until I know they are safe.”

“You mean you will not go.” There was a slight harshness to his voice.

“They can still make mistakes, Diut, with the Garkohn and even with you. Mistakes that can destroy them. Mistakes that I can help them avoid.”

“They are not children, Alanna. You have set them on the right path. If they cannot follow that path now, without you, then perhaps they do not deserve to survive.”

“I cannot desert them. For a while, they were my people.”

“Perhaps they are still your people. Perhaps you were too quick to reject Tahneh’s words. Are you so certain that you would not prefer to leave with them when they go north?”

She felt a rush of bitter anger. “I’ve already answered that. Why do you ask again? Do you want me to go?”

There was a long silence. He showed no yellow in his coloring, but she knew she had angered him. She hoped she had also made him feel ashamed. At first, she thought she had. His voice was mild when he spoke again.

“I have humiliated Natahk by walking away from his hunters as though they were blind and deaf. I will humiliate him again by taking the rest of his prisoners from him. Do you know what he would do to you to avenge himself if he learned that you were my wife?”

She stared at the floor, knowing and not wanting to know. “He will not find out.”

“You will go with the prisoners tomorrow. You will leave your helpless Missionaries to me, and you will take yourself out of danger. Otherwise, I will abandon your Missionaries and let them fend for themselves.”

She listened, dismayed. He had her. He had found the right weapon. However much she believed she could help the Missionaries, they did not need her nearly as much as they needed him.

“I will obey,” she said softly. “But if the Missionaries are killed as a result of some foolishness that I could have helped them avoid, what will we do, Diut, you and I. We will not have a marriage. What will you have saved me for?”