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no more than average height and only five or six inches taller than the two
girls.
"Is that-is she a centaur?" Charley breamed softly.
"Ah!" responded the man. "That is the word. Yes, centaur in English. They call
themselves ba'ahdon, which sort of means human being. It all depends on how
you look at it,; yes?" He paused. "She speaks no English, but she is good
people.
They do not understand why we do not fall over when we walk."
The speaker was himself certainly what they would call a human being, but he,
too, was decidedly unusual in appearance. For one thing, his huge head of
curly reddish blond hair ballooned out as if permed and framed his face as it
dropped below his shoulders. He had no sideburns nor any trace that he ever
had to shave; his face was smooth as a woman's although it had clearly seen a
lot of exposure as its lines and wrinkles around the eyes demonstrated. It was
a large, squared-off face with steel gray eyes and frankly androgynous, a fact
emphasized by his twin earrings which hung down from pierced earlobes, each
ending in a copper oval in which there was a maltese cross. He had an olive
brown complexion that was most certainly dark even without exposure to the sun
but now was deeply tanned. He wore frontier buckskins with fringe
ornamentation, the jacket ties not fully done and revealing a surprisingly
hairy chest for one with no noticeable facial hair. It was almost as if
somebody had stuck Farah Fawcett's head on the body of Davy Crockett, Sam
thought crazily.
Zenchur turned to the centauress and said something in a singsong tongue that
sounded sort of Chinese or something, and she nodded. Then he turned back to
them. "Come. Follow us. We have not too far to go but it is best that we go
there. It is very unlikely that you can be traced to this spot, but one does
not live long by not taking the unlikely into account."
They began walking, the centauress leading the way and the three of them
following.
"If you please, sir," Charley said as they walked, "can you tell us just where
we are?"
Zenchur chuckled. "You are in Akahlar. That is the name of the world in the
dominant language and it is used generally. There are more than six thousand
languages, you see, so there had to be some standards."
"Yes, but-where is Akahlar? Is it another world than ours or what?"
"Another world, yes-and no. You come from the Out-planes and it is hard to
explain things to you since I do not understand them myself. You are almost
where you left yet you are as far away from your home as if you were on a
distant star. It is-how you say?-a layer cake. Many layers. Hundreds.
Thousands.
You fall from somewhere near the top of the cake or in the middle or like that
through to the bottom. Is the asshole of creation. People, things, falling
down here all the time and stick here because there is no farther place to
fall.
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Well, there is, but this is last layer where people can live. Every once in a
while, when big storms come, some more drop through, but not like the old
days."
"But you-you're a native? You're from here?"
"From here, yes. Native-there are no natives of Akahlar. All our ancestors
come here from someplace else long ago. Used to be giant storms all the time
go far
Outplane before they stop, but no more. Oh, we still get big storms, but there
is too much out there now. They break up, get weak. We still get some-one
here, another there-like you two, but not big groups, whole tribes, towns,
like ancient times."
"You speak English quite well," Sam put in, feeling left out of this. "Is it
spoken around this place?"
"Some places, yes. Not many. I learn it because Akhbreed sorcerers use it. Is
good to know the tongues they use. They like it because it is so hard to
learn, so confusing. I am good at languages and I buy this one not long ago. I
know sixteen very well and another ten or so enough to get along. Ladai, she
is also good. Knows ten or more, I forget. Fortunately, we both know one the
same so can talk. She can do ones I can not handle. The throat will not make
the sounds. You understand? That is why we work so well together."
Sam thought she had enough problems with English. "Are we gonna hav'ta know
all those languages to get by here?"
Zenchur laughed. "Oh, no, but the more you know the better it is. I get this
job because I know English. Ladai and me, we need them in our work."
"Just what is it you do?" Charley asked him.
"Sort of-what is the term? Mercenary, I think. No, that is not quite it. They
are paid soldiers. I fight, when I have to, but I do not like it if I can keep
away from having to do it. People pay me to do these things they need to have
done that they cannot or will not do themselves. When no one pays me I think
up my own little jobs to get pay. Free some extra valuables from ones who will
not miss them, that sort of thing. Better working for someone else, though.
Same danger, same trouble, but if you get caught you are not alone."
Sam thought about it and saw just what he was. "And, Ladai-she does the same?
You are partners?"
Zenchur chuckled. "Partners. Yes, I think that might be the right term. You
see, our sort of work-requires-that we live away from most, from civilization.
When we go to cities, to lands, it is to either spend money or on the job.
Then go, usually run, sometime chased, back to the wastes. You never know
where you might have to go. I am Akhbreed. You are Akhbreed. Akhbreed not very
welcome in lots of places. If you are not Akhbreed-Ladai, for example-you are
not welcome in
Akhbreed places. I can do little about Akhbreed law. It stinks. But I can go
where few Akhbreed can follow. Akhbreed have the power. Akhbreed sorcerers
have the greatest power of all. Like gods. Akhbreed does not see any of the
other races as human. They take what they want, all the best, leave the
garbage to the rest. Akhbreed have massacred whole races here for petty
reasons, for greed.
Enslaved others. That is why I do not mind stealing from them or causing them
problems."
"But you said you were an Akhbreed," Charley pointed out. She was getting very
tired and the short distance was turning into a very long hike in the dark.
"I am sometimes ashamed of it. If one race tortured and enslaved your people
and drove them off your lands would you not hate that race? Yet I was trapped,
with a storm coming, many years ago out in the wastes. I had no chance. Two
ba'ahdon found me, wounded, half dead. They took me to their camp, brought me
back to health. I lived with them long time. Got to know them. How could I go
back and be Akhbreed again?"
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