“We are grateful,” said the senior Tsla among the captives.
“Be grateful when we’re safely back in Jakaie,” Etienne admonished him. “Follow me and stay low.” He started up the slope on his belly, glancing back once to make sure Lyra was on his heels. “You need any help?”
“No. It just feels good to be moving again.”
As soon as they dropped over the dark side of the depression he extracted her thermal suit from the supplies. She was so cold it took her three times as long as normal to climb inside.
“I am gladdened to see thee, Teacher. We feared for thee.”
She looked at Yulour in mild surprise, peering past him to see the others who had come with her husband. Her disappointment in the darkness was evident.
“Etienne, you wouldn’t believe the habits of these Na. Their cruelty isn’t studied, of course. It’s simply their way. But their victims suffer needlessly. As a matter of fact I’d have to say that based on preliminary studies which admittedly were not carried out under the best of conditions, they have no redeeming social characteristics whatsoever.”
“You’ll think of some as soon as you get warmed up. You’ll end up with a balanced report. You always do.”
“Maybe, but I don’t feel I’m in a very balanced mood right now.”
When the last of the Tsla captives reached bottom Etienne addressed them hastily. “As you know, I am Learned One Lyra’s mate. We’re going back to Jakaie. Stay together and no talking unless it’s absolutely necessary. We have to travel as rapidly as possible. If anyone gets lost or falls behind for any reason …”
“We know what we must do,” said the senior Tsla. “But we do not know the Way back to our home.”
“We do, so stay close by us.” Holding Lyra’s hand tightly in his own he turned to follow Yulour. The rest of the Tsla trailed behind in perfect silence.
XIV 
They shambled on through the cold and wind all the rest of that night, following Etienne’s lead. He glanced constantly at the instrumentation on his wrists, but was glad he could rely on Yulour’s sense of smell for confirmation of their course. The rising sun was welcomed not only for the warmth it provided but as a further aid to direction. Aracunga was a more reliable beacon than any readout on a tiny screen.
They were well down the trail toward home when a boulder the size of a small house fell past them in awesome silence, to pulverize a basaltic outcrop below. It missed Etienne and Lyra by a few meters.
Instinctively he pressed his back against the cliff. “Landslide,” he muttered.
Yulour made a quick, sharp gesture of disagreement, looked upward. “Na slide.”
A glance toward the Guntali showed a single enormous hirsute shape leaning over the edge, gesticulating angrily and stomping the ground. The mouth made sounds that were swallowed by the wind. Then the figure vanished.
“Coming after us,” Etienne commented with unexpected calm. “I’d hoped they wouldn’t. I wonder how many of them there are.” He pulled on Lyra’s hand. “Can you run?”
She clutched her pistol firmly, nodded.
“Remember now, hon, we don’t want to harm any more of the native population than is absolutely necessary,” he said dryly.
“Pardon my lack of objectivity. The rotten cannibalistic bastards.”
“No time for gory details, love.”
Trying to make as much speed as possible, they raced down the pathway. No more small mountains crashed down around them, but by the time they reached the base of the cliff they could hear bellows and roars behind them.
Twists and turns in the descending trail made it impossible to tell exactly how near their pursuers were. Voices could carry a long way in the clear mountain air. Then they broke out of the talus at the base of the cliff and found themselves running along a well-beaten road.
The Tsla who’d joined Lyra in escaping shouted warnings to the farmers who toiled in the fields. Tools were flung aside, seedlings left in pans as everyone ran for the safety of Jakaie.
Yulour put a hand on Etienne’s shoulder, bade him turn as he pointed with the other. “There, Teacher!”
Etienne saw, no raiding party this time, but the entire tribe stumbling down the cliff face in pursuit. Females and awkward adolescents brought up the rear. Evidently the rescue was an outrage sufficient to infuriate the Na beyond reason.
They ran slowly but with ground-eating strides. Out in front and much too close behind were males hefting clubs bigger than a man.
“Come on, move it!” he shouted at the farmers who had begun to lag behind.
“We’ll make it with plenty of time, Etienne.” As Lyra spoke her right foot located the only hole in the road and she went down in a heap, immediately rolling over on her back to clutch her ankle. Pain replaced confidence on her face as she cursed her clumsiness.
“Not broken,” she was finally able to gasp out.
“I know that, stupid,” he said as felt gingerly of the already swelling knot. He looked past her. He couldn’t tell if the Na had seen her go down. The farmers and escapees were nearing the town wall now.
“Hurry, Teacher,” Yulour implored him. “There’s little time.”
“Get up, Lyra,” Etienne ordered her. She threw him a look of anger mixed with determination. Using his shoulder and an arm for support, she struggled to her feet. They limped toward Jakaie. The agony in her ankle started her crying silently, but she didn’t stop.
Etienne did so, however. “Too slow. We’ll never make it.” He bent under her and her pain gave way to startled surprise.
“Etienne!” She was across his shoulders. “Put me down! You’ll end up killing both of us.”
“Lyra, you talk too much.” She bounced awkwardly on his shoulders as he ran. There was no pain, but the considerable weight soon had him panting heavily. Without the supplementary breather’s steady flow of pure oxygen he couldn’t have done it.
“Teacher, can I help thee?” Yulour waddled alongside them. Something went whomp! against the earth off to their left, smashing a small bush to kindling. The Na club was much larger than the unlucky shrub.
Etienne wanted to look back to see how close their pursuers were but he couldn’t spare the wind. The city gate was very near now, the repaired entrance gaping invitingly. This time armed Tsla waited on the walls, waving and shouting to urge him on. Encouragement was one thing he didn’t need. Already his legs felt like lead determined to sink toward the center of the planet and Lyra, lovely sweet Lyra … if only she were a little less voluptuous.
