02 Quetzals Flock

QUETZAL'S FLOCK
circulated through the Encampment. He lowered the Bole to the ground and had time
to think ruefully, that it hadn't got any lighter. Hammadi was on the other side of the
Picun. Some of the herdsmen tried their hand at heroics.
About a half dozen suddenly stepped towards him, their intent was obvious.
They stopped abruptly, when the Bole took interest in the development and suddenly
reared up on it six legs. The pause was momentary, they continued a threatening
advance. Quetzal wondered momentarily, if the manoeuvre had the tacit approval of
Obeid, he found it hard to believe that they would have acted on their own initiative,
especially with Hammadi standing just a few paces away.
The Bole decided that they posed a threat to the person of its lord and master.
It took appropriate action. The last time it had done so had been on Lynxe and the
result was about the same. A blast of energy emitted from the side nearest to the
threatening sextet. When the short burst of activity ceased, two men were laying
moaning in the purple dust. They were very badly scorched across the chest. A third
was completely motionless, he was smouldering and had taken the full force of the
blast. The other three had changed their minds and had retreated into the body of the
silent crowd.
Quetzal looked around. Obeid was standing motionless in the entrance of his
tent, his arms folded across his chest. His face was the Jubal equivalent of white. He
stared at Quetzal, who inclined his head in greeting.
"I thank my brother Obeid, for your invitation to eat with you. I think some of
your men misunderstood your intentions. I'm afraid that my protector reacted
violently."
He looked across the back of the Picun at Hammadi. His face was drawn and
horrified and he stared at his father as if he was looking at a stranger. Quetzal smiled
slightly, the boy was right, he was a stranger. He looked back to Obeid. He was
directing his men to clear up the mess the Bole had made. The two moaning men were
being carried away. The motionless one was covered, it was mute testimony that no
one could mess with the Bole and expect to get away with it. Quetzal had the feeling
that Obeid was making a very rapid reassessment of his options.
He led the way into his tent and Quetzal followed. The Bole remained outside.
It wasn't an act of bravado on Kane's part, the hide walls were no obstacle and Obeid
knew it. Some of the elders of the Gens Obeid were gathered to feast with their Lord,
perhaps, that was not the only reason why they had gathered. They looked like the
participants in a Jubal version of a court martial. They were also making a
reassessment of the situation and were returning to their seats after the excitement.
Quetzal smiled cordially.
"To invite so many of the respected elders of your Gens for this occasion, is a
high honour indeed Obeid. I thank you!"
"Perhaps, you will not be so thankful by the time we come to the end of our
meeting, Kane Ashford!"
The belligerence had returned. Perhaps, it was a case of the Bole being out of
sight and out of mind.
"Kane Ashford isn't with you this evening, Obeid. Quetzal is!"
"I don't fear you, Quetzal - Kane Ashford, whatever or whoever you imagine
yourself to be. You have proved yourself to be no longer our friend and brother."
Quetzal's voice was deceptively mild.
"In what way have I proved myself unworthy of your friendship, Obeid? Was
it because I dared to unlock the Ship and let Hammadi fly her amongst the stars? Is it
97