The guard saluted and left. “It is good that he is Tsurani,” said the soldier. “You barbarians do not know your place, and I hate to think what would happen should I leave one in charge. He would have my soldiers cutting the trees while the slaves stood guard.”
There was a moment of silence, then Laurie laughed. It was a rich, deep sound. Hokanu smiled. Pug watched closely. The young man who had their lives in his hands seemed to be working hard at winning their trust. Laurie appeared to have taken a liking to him, but Pug held his feelings in check. He was further removed from the old Midkemian society, where war made noble and commoner comrades-in-arms, able to share meals and misery without regard for rank. One thing he had learned about the Tsurani early on was that they never for an instant forgot their station. Whatever was occurring in this hut was by this young soldier’s design, not by chance. Hokanu seemed to feel Pug’s eyes upon him and looked at him. Their eyes locked briefly before Pug dropped his as a slave is expected to do. For an instant a communication passed between them. It was as if the soldier had said: You do not believe that I am a friend. So be it, as long as you act your part.
With a wave of his hand, Hokanu said, “Return to your hut. Rest well, for we will leave after the noon meal.”
They rose and bowed, then backed out of the hut. Pug walked in silence, but Laurie said, “I wonder where we are going.” When no answer came, he added, “In any event, it will have to be a better place than this.”
Pug wondered if it would be.
A hand shook Pug’s shoulder, and he came awake. He had been dozing in the morning heat, taking advantage of the extra rest before he and Laurie left with the young noble after the noon meal Chogana, the former farmer Pug had recommended, motioned for silence, pointing to where Laurie slept deeply.
Pug followed the old slave out of the hut, to sit in the shade of the building. Speaking slowly, as was his fashion, Chogana said, “My lord Hokanu tells me you were instrumental in my being selected slave master for the camp.” His brown, seamed face looked dignified as he bowed his head toward Pug. “I am in your debt.”
Pug returned the bow, formal and unusual in this camp. “There is no debt. You will conduct yourself as an overseer should. You will care well for our brothers.”
Chogana’s old face split in a grin, revealing teeth stained brown by years of chewing tateen nuts. The mildly narcotic nut—easily found in the swamp—did not reduce efficiency but made the work seem less harsh. Pug had avoided the habit, for no reasons he could voice, as had most of the Midkemians. It seemed somehow to signify a final surrender of will.
Chogana stared at the camp, his eyes narrowed to slits by the harsh light. It stood empty, except for the young lord’s bodyguard and the cook’s crew. In the distance the sounds of the work crew echoed through the trees.
“When I was a boy, on my father’s farm in Szetac,” began Chogana, “it was discovered I had a talent. I was investigated and found lacking.” The meaning of that last statement was lost on Pug, but he didn’t interrupt. “So I became a farmer like my father. But my talent was there. Sometimes I see things, Pug, things within men. As I grew, word of my talent spread, and people, mostly poor people, would come and ask for my advice. As a young man I was arrogant and charged much, telling of what I saw. When I was older, I was humble and took whatever was offered, but still I told what I saw. Either way, people left angry. Do you know why?” he asked with a chuckle. Pug shook his head. “Because they didn’t come to hear the truth, they came to hear what they wanted to hear.”
Pug shared Chogana’s laugh. “So I pretended the talent went away, and after a time people stopped coming to my farm. But the talent never went away, Pug, and I still can see things, sometimes. I have seen something in you, and I would tell you before you leave forever. I will die in this camp, but you have a different fate before you. Will you listen?” Pug said he would, and Chogana said, “Within you there is a trapped power. What it is and what it means, I do not know.”
Knowing the strange Tsurani attitude toward magicians, Pug felt sudden panic at the possibility someone might have sensed his former calling. To most he was just another slave in the camp, and to a few, a former squire.
Chogana continued, speaking with his eyes closed. “I dreamed about you, Pug. I saw you upon a tower, and you faced a fearsome foe.” He opened his eyes. “I do not know what the dream may mean, but this you must know. Before you mount that tower to face your foe, you must seek your wal; it is that secret center of your being, the perfect place of peace within. Once you reside there, you are safe from all harm. Your flesh may suffer, even die, but within your wal you will endure in peace. Seek hard, Pug, for few men find their wal.”
Chogana stood. “You will leave soon. Come, we must wake Laurie.”