The Carriage

Life was looking up for Sirodati of Deitalas Taiké. He had lost his livelihood and his right leg in the wars that were still raging on, and there were rumors over the winter that war was coming to Teyoru Tusoreané. But an ancient painting, done from a photograph, had given him a lead on some un-scavenged ruins. And his new best friend, Dohaitas the Karanaiyi, had helped him plot the ruins on the map.

"Ridachiti and Sirodati" used to mean the common Chehiraini on the street. But now there was only one Ridachiti, Ridachiti of the Mountains of Hope, the crane incarnate who was leading the great wars. And soon there would only be one Sirodati.

But first...

They'd come out into the woods in the first flush of spring, dodging flash floods with the depths still in the sky. (At least Aitakeiro's star had risen.) This was scavenging season, when the snow was gone, last year's leaves were tamped down, and the trees weren't yet blocking the light. You could spot things now that would lie unseen for the rest of the year; or so Auschi, the head of their shady band of scavengers, assured them.

But out here, in the foothills of the great mountain called the Alicorn, in precisely the place where the map had sent them, there was nothing to spot.

One of the scavengers had found a broken brick, which had led them to an overgrown apple orchard and the ruins of a solitary farmhouse. They'd gone downstream after that, as far as they dared. They'd found a snag in the river that might have been the ruins of a rail bridge... but Auschi had examined it carefully through his spyglass, and thought it was natural. They'd looked for a railbed -- a long, narrow hillock, straight or evenly curved -- and failed to find it.

Now, night was coming on. They'd pitched a few earth-colored tents and unpacked their fire. They were dead men if they were caught. And if it turned out that he'd led them here for nothing, Sirodati suspected that he wasn't coming back.

#

After a quick supper, in which he didn't dare to eat as much as he wanted, Sirodati caught Auschi's eye over the fire.

"Can we spare some oil? I was thinking of a walk."

Auschi nodded. "We brought half a gallon. It keeps. Enjoy the night air."

Chehirainan were polite. Not even a thief would say "don't hurry back" in as many words. Nor did he have to.

#

Sirodati hopped away, out of the camp. He knew he cut a silly figure with his staff, but a winter of practice had left him handy with it. He had both hands full, but animals this far from civilization were sure to fear light and fire.

Now, he wondered, where was he going? Where hadn't they searched? What was he looking for?

He needed to be seen out searching. To be seen to be the most committed of them all. But if he was searching in earnest... He'd look for lights. Reflections. Gleams off metal that they'd missed during the day.

He wandered for a little. He stayed on high ground when he had it. He tripped over a root and barely caught himself. He looked back over his shoulder, and had no idea where the camp was. But they were near the river, and the ground...

He looked at the ground, and had a merry laugh at his own expense. A child could follow a trail like his! One boot print, then a hard blow from a staff, and then a boot again. If he had both legs, what a hand with a bayonet he'd be!

He settled down against the tree trunk with a smile, to catch his breath. He drank water and had a nip of brandy. It was a cold night.

He saw a bobbing lantern coming towards him. He waited.

"Auschi?"

"Come home," Auschi said. He still looked grim, but in a different way. "They discharged you two to Hidarati's care. We don't need paladins looking in to why you disappeared."

#

Next morning, they conferred again. Dohaitas had fixed their position with the stars overnight, and they were exactly where they were supposed to be. He unrolled the maps. At his insistence, everyone studied them, just in case anyone might have a flash of insight.

But no flashes of insight were forthcoming. Only a flash of anxiety, when their radio receiver picked up an order to investigate bandits... But it was a cloudy day. The radio gave coordinates in the southern East Indoru, and signed off as the Iron Mice. They'd picked up a stray signal.

#

The stray signal was the only thing they found that day. That evening, as the men settled down, Auschi took Sirodati and Dohaitas out for an evening stroll.

"You two," he said, in a low voice. "No, not you two. Dohaitas, we Chehirainan pulled you into this, and I swear by Sôritâro that we'll get you out again.

"Sirodati." Auschi looked him in the eye. "I'd say we've got about a week, after which we need to lay low. If we don't find anything by then, can you get back on your own?"

Sirodati trembled, struck dumb. They were walking casually as they talked; he was on the right side of their group. He edged away, not looking at the ground, and thrust down his staff into a knot of vines -- with nothing underneath.

He fell with a scream through a mass of tangled vines, and landed hard on bare dirt. It hurt, but nothing felt broken. He rolled over... and touched a pane of Federation glass.

His eyes widened with delight. Here was an entire window of four panes, with its brass fixtures! Two or three bushels in silver right here! And where there was one, there was...

He looked around. He had fallen into a Federation railway carriage, toppled and overgrown. This was what they had come for. This was his lineage! They had found a rail line! This carriage alone could be scrapped for a fortune! All that rustproof Federation steel!

Dohaitas called down to him; Sirodati shouted up that nothing was broken. Auschi had jumped down onto the carriage, and was pulling vines and brush away. Sirodati looked up at him through the window.