His guide had stopped. Tarlain stood where he was and dabbed at his eyes with one sleeve as he waited, hoping the Kallathik had not gone into thought mode. Finally, it gestured down one of the adjoining passages and headed that way. This passageway was smaller, the roof almost touching the Kallathik's broad flat head as the tunnel wound deeper into the hillside. Fewer light shafts marked the way, and though his eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom, he still had to strain to see. They passed a number of smaller alcoves set into the tunnel walls, and within one or two, he sensed movement. There were Kallathik here, shifting vastly in the darkness as they passed. He wondered if he smelled as strange to them as they did to him. Were they disturbed by his alien presence, by his passing scent? Did they recognize the human taint upon the air? Their interspecies communication wasn't advanced enough that he'd ever really know.
At last, they reached the small chambers set aside for human use. Tarlain ducked inside one, fumbled around for the light and switched it on. Its battery would keep it alive for several hours, but he didn't want to waste it, so he dropped his bag on the small cot, found the fuel lamp and lit it before turning off the other one. These small cells were relatively close to the entrance, giving him some real idea of the true vastness of the complex. His guide had already disappeared, scraping off along the passageway outside. Tarlain hoped it had gone to inform the sept leaders. If not, he was in for a long wait. Dealing with the Kallathik eventually taught patience. It had to.
Sitting on the edge of the rude cot, he settled in to wait, hoping that his guide was focused enough to bear the message to the right place. All around him, the noises of the burrow's other inhabitants continued unabated, echoing through the dimness, punctuated by the resonant low moaning wind filtering down the passageways. Tarlain shivered and shook his head. He cursed himself for not having had the foresight to bring something as simple as a book reader, at least something to occupy his mind.
Eight
Over distant hills, clouds gathered, forming and reshaping, deep and brown in the copper light. The taste of electricity sat subtly beneath, ever present, upon the gentle breeze. Veins of light throbbed within the burgeoning cloud mass, illuminating the pregnant shapes from within, and then re-fading into darkness. Leannis Men Darnak stood, watching, listening as the sound of herd beasts drifted up from the fields below. A voice called, then another, and the sound was broken by the whine and buzz of a groundbike, quickly fading away into the distance. Another call, and the sound of animals replaced the sound of machine, clanking bells indicating the movement of the animals on their way back in from pasture.
A wide low veranda ran all around the edge of the residence, one of the Men Darnak numerous country holdings. This, one of the smaller estates, was a place where he came to relax, far removed from the details of the Principate. Here, he had space to think, to channel his thoughts without them being pulled in all the directions of the Guild Business, changing from hour to hour; he could sit back and assess, uncluttered. The breeze stirred his hair and he closed his eyes, letting the cool wind breathe upon his face. Had he done the right thing? He thought he had, but here, away from the heart of things, he was starting to wonder. He was tired now, tired of the daily demands, the decisions, the constant power plays, but he wasn't ready to give up yet. There was still too much left to arrange. With Roge in his new role, he would need to keep a gentle guiding hand in the background, be available to lend counsel when the situation demanded it. The Prophet knew, Roge would need it. With Karin's support, it would be easier. Karin was attuned to the nuances of political life in a way Roge could never be, but with her to advise, to observe, his eldest son would be stronger. He grimaced. Karin, as good as she was, however, was not quite enough. What Tarlain had said was right. Roge needed to be tempered, to develop beyond his first inclination to selfishness.
And what of Tarlain? Where was the boy now?
"Principal?"
Men Darnak opened his eyes, letting his gaze wander one more time across the horizon before answering. "Yes. What is it?"
"You seemed preoccupied, Principal."
"A little, Priest. A little. There is so much more to do."
