02 Quetzals Flock

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
"Does that convince you that my Masters are to be obeyed? Be glad I didn't
focus on your left testicle!"
He was still spitting fury.
"It proves nothing except you have a trick power. It doesn't make you Kane
Ashford and the man I loved more than a brother!"
Kane found his mouth shaping the words of a tongue he didn't know. Quetzal's
voice softened. The angry glare in Obeid's eyes faded. He looked bewildered and then
answered in the same language. Kane didn't understand but Quetzal did. He moved to
Obeid's side and touched the wounded ear and then embraced him.
Quetzal started to recede, back into his role of the watchful lodger. Kane
started to shake like a leaf in the wind. His teeth chattered and Obeid eyed him with
growing concern.
"By the gods, Kane Ashford, you're a strange individual!"
He gave a sharp order to Hammadi.
"Don't sit there, boy! Get your father's Kous!"
Hammadi moved gingerly. His look was a combination of awe and caution.
The jolt of power he had taken must have been quite something. He draped the Kous
around his father's shoulders. Obeid waved to the door.
"Take your comrades and leave us."
Hammadi looked doubtful but obeyed. Obeid turned to Kane who was
beginning to emerge from the fit of the shakes.
"You had no idea of what happened, do you?"
Kane shook his head. He didn't much care what happened next.
"I thought so. You spoke the language of the Home World. There are few who
know it. It was the secret tongue of my father and all the commanders of the Fleet. We
have always had our Siyulks, the whole operation of seeding the worlds seemed to
create rebels and malcontents. The Commanders of each ship, and they alone, were
taught the old language by those you call the Masters of Psi - the Unmentionable.
They spoke to me through you and I answered them, through you. It does not concern
you what they said to me, or I to them. Sufficient to say, I accept you as my brother,
Kane Ashford!"
Kane nodded, he was exhausted. Obeid pushed him back on the couch of hides
and left him to sleep.
He dreamed of Maia. He was home again, in the broad rolling lands of Lyot.
He walked in the fields under their yellow sun and smelled the rich odour of the damp
soil. He watched the Scarn labouring in the broad paths which ran between the rows
of the oil-crop. Hairy brutes bent to their task. It was as it had been before.
He walked through the door of a rambling house. A child ran to him and held
out his arms to be lifted. He swung him up and he laughed with delight. Maia came,
she was laughing and teasing him over something. He kissed her a little too
passionately for the time of day and she ducked away laughing.
The dream changed and they were laying on their bed and she was stroking his
hair. He wanted her and murmured her name. Her hand seemed to hesitate for a
moment and then it continued its gentle stroking. He was between waking and
sleeping; between the familiar room and something different. He whispered.
"Maia."
The hand stopped and lifted from him as he opened his eyes. The inside of the
tent was almost dark. The light of the red sun hardly penetrated the hide walls. The
woman stood a little way from the couch. She was shrouded in a Kous and her face
was in the shadow of its hood. Kane swung his feet around and sat on the side of the
57