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CHAPTER 9

      AT FIRST it was merely less dark, and Ware wondered if it was only that his eyes were longing for the day. But then the tree-trunks became an edge of light, and he knew that dawn was really upon them.

      Near him, the others lay in exhausted sleep; they'd been traveling for five arduous nights, walking fast from dusk until almost dawn. But even when they were too weary to go on, it was hard to rest. Although they never heard or saw any signs of pursuit, they felt that someone — or something — was seeking them.

      Now, however, as Ware leaned back against a tree trying to keep watch, that sense of ever-present menace left him. And in spite of himself, he slept.

      The next thing he knew it was noon, and someone was crashing through the frosty brush, his skinny legs pumping, narrow face streaked with tears. "Oh, there was a b-bear — a b-big bear — and it was chasing me! It was gonna get me!"

      Hasty flung himself at Ware, almost knocking him over. "Don't let it get me!"

      Steel was on her feet. Hearth struggled out of her quilt, saying, "You were dreaming. Bears don't come out in midwinter."

      Still panting, the boy cried, "There was t-too a bear. It was right by me."

      "Well, it's not here now," Hearth reassured him. Then she turned to Ware and Steel. "But — if he actually did see a bear, it isn't safe for us to stop here. And now that we have some light . . . this land seems familiar. I think there's a town nearby where Sister and I broke our journey, years ago. If I'm right, we can renew our supplies there, and maybe sleep in a real bed for a change."

      Steel frowned. "I'd rather take my chances with the bear than meet Dur's men again."

      "The pressers can't be everywhere," Ware said reasonably, "But we'll stop outside the walls and ask, before we actually enter the town."

      So, although Steel rolled her eyes, they collected their few possessions and headed in the direction where Hearth thought the town was located. And sure enough, less than an hour later, they came upon a space of cleared land and some shabby cottages. And beyond them, the stockade walls of the town.

      While Ware and Hasty stayed out of sight, Hearth and Steel knocked at the door of the one of the cottages.

      The door was opened by an old woman who answered Hearth's cautious question with, "No, there's no soldiers around here now. They came and went last fall."

      She gave Hearth a shrewd look, adding, "And if you've got a boy you're trying to hide from them — we probably won't see them back till spring. Just be careful going south."

      So with this reassurance — and this warning, they entered the town and found all the supplies they needed in the quiet market-place.

      At the inn, however, they were less fortunate. The inn-master had a crippled foot and a sour disposition, and he glared at Ware, demanding, "What's that big fella doing loose. Pressers got all our men. My sister's boy was took last year, an' all I got left to help me is the Dummy, there."

      He jerked his head toward a vacant-faced young man who was carrying a tray from the kitchen and shouted, "Careful with those dishes, Dummy!" The young man never blinked.

      Lowering his voice again, the man continued, "If they're taking them to be killed, don't know why they couldn't of took him — an' left me one of the smart ones."

      Expressionless, Dummy set a plate of bread in the center of the table and handed around dishes of thin stew.

      They all began eating eagerly, but soon put down their spoons in distaste. Although the stew was hot, it was also very sour. Even the bread had an off taste. "This is terrible stuff." Ware said, "How do you expect us to eat it."

      The inn-master shrugged. "Don't have to eat it. You pay the same either way." He hobbled over to the sooty fireplace and sat down with his back to them.

      Hearth pushed away her bowl. "Well, let's get some rest," she said heavily.

      "Rooms are upstairs — the door's open," the inn-master growled. Hearth nodded and the two women headed up the rickety steps with Ware and Hasty behind them.

      Unfortunately, the rooms were as bad as the dinner — a row of dark cells that smelled of unmade beds and the dirty clothes of strangers. Ware stopped at the door. "No, I'll go out for a while."

      "We'd better rest while we can," Hearth cautioned.

      He shook his head. "I'm going out for a while."

      Downstairs, the main room was now deserted. Outside the innyard was a patch of muddy bricks fouled by wandering chickens. He strolled around behind the inn, and here he found a patch of late sunlight. There was also a very noisy pigpen. Curious as to what was causing the chorus of excited grunts and squeals, he stepped up on the muddy slats of the sty and looked in.

      Dummy was in the pen, emptying a bucket of slop into the pig-trough. A huge sow was nose-deep in it, and the dozen piglets around her were scrambling over each other with eagerness.

      Ware thought the pigs' food smelled more appetizing than the stew they'd had for supper. "You serve your pigs better than your guests," he said sourly.

      Dummy looked up at him with a grin and nodded.

      Ware thought the least the fellow could have done was to look embarrassed.

      Meanwhile, the pigs were feeding ecstatically. The smallest piglet had his front trotters in the trough and was gobbling so eagerly that his flat nose submerged in the liquid. He sneezed and looked up, amazed, and the sow nudged him aside, so she could feed more comfortably.

      The piglet tried to force his way back to the trough, but his mother's immensity was immovable.

      The piglet ran to the other end of the trough, but none of the others would let him in. Around and around he raced, squealing, but no matter where he tried, he was walled out by stoic pig rears and curled tails.

      With a cautious glance at the sow, Dummy reached over, picked up the piglet, and headed for the fence.

      At this, the little creature began squalling even more shrilly.

      The sow heard the difference at once. Lifting her heavy head, she sighted Dummy with the piglet under his arm. Her little eyes burned red; someone was stealing her child! With a bellow, she charged after him. Who would have thought that heavy body could move so fast?

      Dummy seemed oblivious to the danger.

      "Look out!" Ware cried, pointing.

      Glancing back, Dummy saw the furious sow racing toward him and began scrambling up the side of the pen.

      His hand slipped (hard to climb with a pig under your arm) and he slid back to the ground. He was in real danger now. At once, Ware hooked a knee between the slats, leaned over and grabbed Dummy with both hands, hauling him half-over the fence, just as the enraged sow struck it a resounding blow, missing the young man's dangling feet by inches.

      The whole pen shuddered as Ware grabbed the squirming piglet with one hand and clutched at Dummy's shirt with the other. But by the time the sow had gather herself for a new charge, they were on the ground outside the pen.

      As the sow continued to snort and thunder inside, Dummy gave Ware a radiant smile and took up another bucket in which a little slop remained. He went down on his knees and set the piglet's face into the food. Immediately, the little creature stopped squealing and began to eat, its tail trembling with pleasure: Liberty was only a luxury. Food was really important.

      Dummy stroked its back as it ate. "Littl'uns get crowded out," he said in a loud, uninflected voice.

      Ware nodded, and the young man went on with a pleasant look, "Guess y'know I'm deef. But I can unnerstan' you if I see you talk."

      That explained it.

      Ware had never known anyone who couldn't hear, but looking into the young man's face, he understood at once what that loss must mean — Dummy was alone in a world with no voices, no birdsongs, no piglet squeals. He moved through silence as if through a wasteland of snow.

      Thinking of this, Ware began to notice the multitude of sounds around him: the clucking hens; the comfortable, sloppy sound of pigs eating; a man's voice, calling to someone in the street. The wind, whispering to itself in the trees beyond the town walls.

      Dummy, meanwhile, squatted placidly beside the pig, his square hands petting its sturdy neck. In repose, and away from his uncle, his face was perfectly good-humored. How sad, Ware thought, never to hear any kindly voice. When the young man looked up again, Ware said loudly and slowly, "Can-you-really-understand-what-I-say?"

      Watching his lips, Dummy nodded, "Pretty much all."

      "Were you always like this?"

      Dummy shook his head. "Had a bad sickness w'en I was little. After I got better . . . it was all silent."

      The little pig hiccupped and fell asleep, replete with the bliss of a distended stomach. Its snout and trotters were still deep in the bucket

      At that moment, Hasty began calling, "Ware! Ware!" His frantic tone reminded Ware of the little pig.

      Ware strolled toward the sound. "I'm here."

      Hasty careened around the corner of the inn, panting so hard that for a moment Ware couldn't understood him. At last he gasped out, "G-Gotta run. They're c-coming!"

      He was right. The voices in the street were coming closer. The inn-master's voice rose urgently above the rest, "C'mon. Get 'em while they're sleeping."

      Ware looked up at the inn. Hearth and Steel would be trapped in that dark room. He had to get them out!

      He started for the inn, but Hasty grabbed his sleeve, crying, "D-Don't go there. They'll g-get you!"

      Dummy was looking from one to the other, trying to piece together what was happening. Now he peered around the corner, saw the soldiers, and understood at once. "Go fer th' woods," he cried to Ware, pointing. "There's a side door in th' town wall."

      Hasty tugged at Ware's arm. "Come on, it's us men they're after. HURRY!"

      "No. We have to get Steel and Aunt Hearth!"

      "They don't want GIRLS! It's us, Ware. They'll take us both if they catch us. Come ON!"

      Ware turned to Dummy, pointing to the inn. "My friends are up in the room. I have to get them."

      Dummy looked perplexed. "Can't go there, they'll catch y'. . ." Then his face softened. "Ahhhh. Your Ma."

      He squinted up at the windows for a moment. "All ri' c'mon —" Motioning Ware to follow, he dragged a barrel toward the overhanging eaves of the inn. Ware ran to help him, but Dummy had already set the barrel in place and, using it as a step, hoisted himself up on the roof. Ware scrambled up behind him, leaving Hasty to dance below them in nervous apprehension.

      Dummy trotted across the shingles to one of shuttered windows and rapped on it.

      Ware called, "Aunt Hearth!"

      "Ware?" He could hear her fumbling with the latch. As she thrust open the shutter, a commotion began at the front of the inn. Noisy feet and voices shouting.

      "Come out." Ware whispered urgently, "Hurry."

      They understood instantly. As Hearth ran to bar the door, Steel tossed him the packs, and in an instant they were out on the roof beside him.

      Steel's cheeks were flushed and her eyes were brilliant.

      "They mustn't take us!"

      They raced down the roof together. Steel jumped lightly onto the barrel and from there to the ground below. Ware tossed her the packs as Dummy dropped to the ground and held up his arms to Hearth.

      Inside the room, the door burst open and a voice shouted, "They're out the window."

      Another voice cried, "Go after 'em — we'll cut 'em off from below."

      Hearth gathered her skirts around her, "Go down," she said to Ware, her eyes fixed on him intensely.

      Habit almost made him obey, but then he saw the men on the roof behind her. "No — you first."

      The moment seemed to hang in midair. There was no fear in him, nothing but a fluttering excitement in his chest. Someone caught him by the shoulder, and without turning he pushed blindly at the solid mass behind him. His attacker staggered and fell, clutching at the steep shingles.

      "Aunt — go down."

      There was a cry at the edge of the roof and then the dull sound of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by groaning. The man Ware pushed had fallen off the roof. A second man, very fat, was struggling to get out the window.

      Dummy was up on the barrel, holding out his arms. With a nod, Hearth caught Ware's hand and let him ease her into Dummy's outstretched arms. Then Ware leaped to the barrel and to the ground.

      Dummy kicked the barrel over and rolled it off. "This way."

      Dummy's hard hand was in Ware's hand. He grabbed Hearth's with the other and they were off at a dead run behind the inn and along the wall. Loud yells sounded above them, then a thump and a cry of pain as someone jumped from the roof.

      Run! The sun was going down, and the sky was as red as roses. Run! They were sprinting behind a row of buildings, racing along the fence that surrounded the town. The shaggy stockade wall was too high to climb, and Ware could see no gate anywhere. More shouts came from behind them, and he heard his own voice repeating. "Run! Run!"

      Far ahead, he saw Hasty. Steel was beyond him. And there it was — a door in the wall, almost invisible in shadow.

      Dummy ran to the door and threw himself against the bar that held it shut. "Psssh!" With a cracking noise, the bolt moved, then stopped. It was stuck. Trapped in this stifling darkness!

      "Psssh." Ware threw his own weight against the bolt. It cracked again, and he felt it move . . . the voices were closer now. "Looky there, in the shadows. We got 'em!"

      He could hear them panting as they ran. He could smell them sweating inside their leather armor. "There. Over here!"

      Together, Ware and Dummy flung themselves against the door, and it burst open on a shaggy meadow, and beyond it, the forest.

      Hasty went first, dragging Ware's pack. Then came Steel with the rolled-up quilts over her shoulder, then Hearth, Dummy and Ware, all running pell-mell toward the trees.

      "Get THAT ONE! The woman!" a voice roared.

      And at the same moment, Steel stumbled and fell.

      "Steel!" Ware was beside her, dragging her up.

      "Don't let them take me." He could see her yellow eyes.

      "Run. Run." He was running. Carrying her. His heart was going to burst with effort.

      He could hear the men behind him. Hasty had reached the forest. Where was Hearth?

      He heard Hasty scream — and out of the forest, from between the dark tree-trunks that were still tinted rose-red by the dying sun, came a terrifying apparition: a gigantic bear, roaring with fury. Rearing up on its hind legs, taller than a man, it charged directly at the exhausted Ware! Its great red mouth was open, its arms were reaching for him.

      Behind him, the soldiers began squalling with fear.

      The bear was between Ware and the forest. Hunched forward, still clutching Steel in his arms, with his last strength, he changed direction and sprinted for the trees.

      The bear charged past him and caught up the nearest soldier in its great arms. It squeezed, the man's body bent backward, and there was a horrible crunching snap as he went limp. He never even cried out.

      With a roar, the bear flung the dead man at the oncoming soldiers. But they were already running in the other direction, desperately making for the opening in the wall.

      When the last of the men got through the door, the bear stopped, and an unexpected silence cracked with the sound of the bolt snapping into place. Turning its heavy head, the bear sighted Ware, and at once it came down on all fours and began loping toward him.

      Ware got to the trees just as the bear caught up with him. A shout came from somewhere as the bear's heavy paw descended, knocking him into the scrubby brush, spilling Steel out of his arms.

      She stumbled to her feet, gasping, "The soldiers are after us — we have to get away," in her desperation, she actually threw herself into the arms of the charging bear, which caught her up and half carried, half dragged her into the shadowy trees.

      "Steel!" Ware was on his hands and knees, his sides heaving, his heart slamming against his chest wall. The image of the soldier's broken body wavered before his eyes as he hauled himself upright. The bear had taken Steel!

      Would his legs hold him? They did. Staggering, he began to run again. After Steel. After the bear.

      No thought. No plan. Only running. Here was a broken branch, there was a paw-print in a patch of snow. Once he stopped and listened, but he could hear only his own gasping breath, the pumping of his own heart.

      He blundered on through dense brush, tree-limbs whipping his face and tearing his clothes. He slid down a dry gully into a mound of twiggy snow. Ran into a tree, pulled himself up and went on running. He hardly noticed the branches and the underbrush. He was seeing the image of Steel's body clasped in the bear's paws. It was getting dark. He had to find them before . . .

      He broke through into a clearing, and there they were. Steel was on the ground, and the bear was beside her in the darkness. She was alive. The bear leaned over her, its muzzle opening.

      He tried to shout to distract its attention, but his throat was too dry from running. Find a stick, a rock — anything to defend her with.

      As Steel reached up her hand that showed so white against the bear's black coat in the darkness, Ware found a stick and ran toward them.

      The bear's jaws came nearer to Steel's face — that narrow, slender hand was no defense against those cruel teeth — and in the darkness . . . its jaws were . . .

      Something was . . .

      Ware ran slower and slower.

      He stopped, and the stick fell from his hands.

      Because — something was happening to his eyes. He was seeing . . . wait. The bear's outline blurred in the shadowy darkness where it was so hard to see anyway, and . . . could it really be growing smaller? Changing and changing so —

      Ware blinked, rubbed his eyes. Steel lay motionless on the ground, her hand still outstretched. But —

      The bear was gone. It was a man that crouched beside her!

      Somehow, the man beside Steel was mixed up with the bear in Ware's exhausted mind. All he knew was — Steel had to be protected. Raising his arms, he ran at them.

      The man beside Steel leaped up and rushed furiously to meet him, head lowered, arms outstretched.

      Steel cried, "No, Zex. Wait!"

      The two bodies met with a stunning impact. The stranger's head caught Ware full in the stomach. Ware's fists pounded the man's back — as he was flung backward, his head struck the ground . . . and darkness.

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