Reith said, "The problem may be taken out of my hands. I'm not sure of my legal footing."
"There are no laws here on the steppe," the girl said. "Fear alone rules."
Traz came to join them. He appraised the girl with disapproval. "What do you intend with her?"
"I'd see her home, if I could."
"You would want for nothing, if you did so," the girl told him earnestly. "I am the daughter of a notable house. My father would build you a palace."
At this Traz showed less disapprobation, and looked off to the east as if envisioning the journey. "It is not impossible."
"For me it is," said Reith. "I must go to find my space-boat. If you want to conduct her to Cath, by all means do so, and make a new life for yourself."
Traz looked dubiously out at the priestesses. "Without warriors or weapons, how could I convey one like her across the steppes? We'd be enslaved or killed out of hand."
Baojian the caravan-master entered the room, approached. He spoke in an even voice: "The priestesses demand that I enforce their claims, which I will not do, since the transfer of property occurred away from my caravan. However, I agreed to put the question: what are your intentions in regard to the girl?"
"It is no concern of theirs," said Reith. "The girl has become my property. If they want compensation, they must approach the Ilanths. I have no business with them."
"This is a reasonable statement," remarked Baojian. "The priestesses understand as much, although they protest their misfortunes. I am inclined to agree that they have been victimized."
Reith looked to see if the caravan-master was keeping a straight face. "Are you serious?"
"I think only in terms of property rights and security of transfer," declared Baojian. "The priestesses have suffered a great loss. A certain sort of girl is necessary for their rite; they strove inordinately to procure a suitable participant, only to lose her at the last minute. What if they paid a salvage fee-let us say, half the price of a comparable female?"
Reith shook his head. "They suffered loss, but I feel no concern whatever. After all, they have not come to rejoice with the girl for having regained her freedom."
"I suspect that they are in no mood for merrymaking, even at so happy an occasion," remarked Baojian. "Well, I will communicate your remarks. Doubtless they will make other arrangements."
"I hope the situation will not affect the convenience of our travel?"
"Naturally not," declared the caravan-master emphatically. "I enforce total ban upon thieving and violence. Security is my stock in trade." He bowed and departed.
Reith turned to Traz and Anacho, who had come to join the group. "Well, what now?"
"You are as good as dead," said Traz gloomily. "The priestesses are witch-women.
We had several such among the Emblems. We killed them and events went for the better."
Anacho inspected the Flower of Cath with the cool detachment he might have used for an animal. "She's a Golden Yao, an extremely old stock: hybrids of the First Tans and the First Whites. A hundred and fifty years ago they became arrogant and contrived to build certain advanced mechanisms. The Dirdir taught them a sharp lesson."
"A hundred and fifty years ago? How long is the Tschai year?"
"Four hundred and eighty-eight days, though I see no relevance to the discussion."
Reith calculated. A hundred and fifty Tschai years was equivalent to about two hundred and twelve Earth years. Coincidence? Or had the Flower's ancestors dispatched that radio beam which had brought him to Tschai?
The Flower of Cath was regarding Anacho with detestation. She said in a husky voice, "You are a Dirdirman!"
"Of the Sixth Estate: by no means an Immaculate."
The girl turned to Reith. "They torpedoed Settra and Balisidre; they wanted to destroy us, from envy!"
"'Envy' is not the proper word," said Anacho. "Your people were playing with forbidden forces, matters beyond your comprehension."
"What happened after?" asked Reith.
"Nothing," said Ylin-Ylan. "Our cities were destroyed, and the receptories and the Palace of Arts, and the Golden Webs-the treasures of thousands of years. Is it any wonder we hate the Dirdir? More than the Pnume, more than the Chasch, more than the Wankh!"
Anacho shrugged. "Expunging the Yao was not my doing."
"But you defend the deed! This is the same!"
"Let us talk of something else," suggested Reith. "After all, the happening is two hundred and twelve years gone."
"Only a hundred and fifty!" the Flower of Cath corrected him.
"True. Well, then, what of you? Would you like a change of clothes?"
"Yes. I have worn these since the unspeakable women took me from my garden. I would like to bathe. They allowed me water only enough to drink..."
Reith stood guard while the girl scrubbed herself, then handed in steppe-travelers' garments which made no distinction between male and female.
Presently she emerged, still half-damp, wearing the gray breeches and tan tunic, and they once more went down to the common-room, and out upon the compound, to discover an atmosphere of urgency, occasioned by the Green Chasch, who had approached to within a mile of the caravansary. The gun emplacements on the rock juts had been manned; Baojian was driving his gun-carts up into the openings where they commanded all avenues of approach.
The Green Chasch showed no immediate disposition to attack. They brought up their own wagons, ranged them in a long line, erected a hundred tall black tents.
Baojian pulled at his chin in vexation. "The North-South train will never join us with nomads so near. When their scouts see the camp they'll back away and wait. I foresee delay."
The Grand Mother set up an indignant outcry. "The Rite will proceed without us!
Must we be thwarted in every particular?"
Baojian held out his hands to implore reason. "Can't you see the impossibility of leaving the compound? We would be forced to fight! We may have to do so in any event!"
Someone called, "Send the priestesses forth to dance their 'Rite' with the Chasch!"
"Spare the unfortunate Chasch; " spoke another impudent voice. The priestesses retreated in a fury.
Dusk settled over the steppe. The Green Chasch started up a line of fires, across which their tall shapes could be seen to pass. From time to time they seemed to halt and stare toward the caravansary.
Traz told Reith, "They are a telepathic race; they know each other's minds.
Sometimes they seem to read the thoughts of men ... I myself doubt that they do.
Still-who knows?"
A scratch meal of soup and lentils was served in the common room, with dim lights to prevent the Chasch from silhouetting those on guard. A few quiet games were played to the side. The Ilanths drank distillation, and presently became loud and harsh, until the innkeeper warned them that he maintained as stringent a policy as did the caravan-master, and that if they wished to brawl they must go forth on the steppe. The three hunched forward over their table, hats pulled thwartwise across their yellow faces.
The common-room began to empty. Reith took Ylin-Ylan the Beauty Flower to a cubicle beside his own. "Bolt your door," he told her. "Do not come out until morning. If anyone tries the door, pound on the wall to wake me."
She looked at him through the doorway with an unreadable expression and Reith thought never had he seen more appealing a sight. She asked, "Then you really do not intend me to be a slave?"
"No."
The door closed, the bolt struck home. Reith went to his own cubicle.
The night passed. On the following day, with the Green Chasch still camped before the caravansary, there was nothing to do but wait.
Reith, with the Flower of Cath close by his side, inspected the caravan guns-the so-called "sand blasts"-with interest. He learned that the weapons indeed fired sand, charging each grain electrostatically, accelerating it violently almost to light speed, augmenting the mass of each grain a thousandfold. Such driven sand-grains, striking a solid object, penetrated, then gave up their energy in an explosion. The weapons, Reith learned, were obsolete Wankh equipment, and were engraved with Wankh writing: rows of rectangles of different sizes and shapes.