Something struck the small of his back and he almost went down. But he staggered, regained his balance and ran on. A dull flame began to burn just above his coccyx as waiting hands reached out to relieve him of his burden.
They set Lyra down alongside him as he sucked at the last of the breather’s air, breathing like a man who’d just finished a long underwater swim. Shouts and yells penetrated his exhaustion.
“I’m too tired to sit up,” he wheezed. “What’s happening?”
“Don’t ask me. I’m the one with the sprained ankle, remember?”
“Pity you couldn’t have sprained your mouth.”
“Be of good cheer, Teacher,” said the solicitous Yulour. “I will find out.” He moved toward the gate.
Long moments passed with Lyra massaging her ankle and Etienne slowly regaining his strength.
“That was a dumb thing to do,” she finally told him. “You could have gotten a hernia.”
“Excuse me,” he said between gasps. “Next time I’ll drop you.”
“Next time I shoot myself before I let them take me.” She saw the expression on his face and looked away. “So it’s bad xenology. I can’t help it. I have feelings too. What on earth made you try something like that, anyway?” When he didn’t reply she pushed at his shoulder. “Roll over. I want to see your back. I saw the tail end of that club hit you.”
With an effort he turned onto his side. Her fingers moved across his waist, making him wince.
“Could have busted your spine,” she murmured gently. “You’ve got a hell of a bruise.”
“I can tell. Where’s Yulour?”
She looked toward the gate. “I don’t see him, but so far it looks good. There’s still a lot of yelling and screaming on the walls, but the new gate looks much stronger than the old one.” Her eyes returned to him. “You’re an idiot, Etienne. You saved my life.”
“That was the idea.”
“Why?”
He slowly rolled back, stared blankly at the sky. “Damned if I know.” His face contorted as the fire in his back spread to new nerves.
“It never ceases to amaze me, Etienne, how often you can do the right thing and then say just the opposite. Stay there. I’ll get something from the boat.” She started to rise, flopped back heavily. “I forgot. I can’t walk.”
“What a sensible, always alert pair we make,” he murmured. “If only our sponsors could see us now.” He would have laughed if he hadn’t been so tired.
“Thank you for saving my life, Etienne, whatever your motives.”
“Anytime. Don’t mention it. Do you think you can help me sit up?”
“Be careful,” she warned him.
Several faces were suddenly staring down at them. One was familiar.
“Hello, Tyl.” Etienne clasped his knees toward his chest, trying to alleviate some of the pain in his back. The nerves there argued with every millimeter of effort.
Tyl executed a most profound sideways Tsla bow. “We did not expect thee to return, Learned Etienne. Thee were in the right and we in the wrong, and most grateful am I to be proven so. It was a grand thing thee did. Songs will commemorate thy deed. And this one’s, whose service is unprecedented.” He indicated Yulour, standing in front of the crowd.
“I don’t understand, Teacher,” Yulour said.
“Dear, sweet, brave Yulour,” Lyra murmured. “I know thy customs and why thy kinfolk did not come, but why did thee?”
“It seemed a good thing to do, so I did it.” He looked embarrassed.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she told him.
“Make … up to me? I do not understand.”
“I know you don’t. Do you understand what I mean when I say that Etienne and I thank thee very deep?”
“Thee are welcome,” the porter replied gravely. “Now I must go and find my friends.”
Tyl watched him go. “A peculiar soul, but many-times blessed, I think.”
“He certainly has our blessings,” said Lyra. She looked toward the wall. The shouting had ceased and the Tsla were leaving the top of the palisade, chatting easily among themselves.
“It seems the Na have given up and gone away. Do you think they might attack again?”
“They vented evil gestures and many shouts,” Tyl informed them, “but I think they will not come back for some time. They are not animals and know they cannot break into Jakaie without first surprising its people. This time there was no surprise, so they have gone.”
“So we’re safe?” Etienne mumbled.
“Yes, all are safe how. Jakaie owes thee a debt for the dead thee have restored to them alive.”
Etienne’s back improved slowly under Lyra’s ministering hands. The worst of it was the body wrap she made him wear. It enveloped him from beneath the armpits to below his waist and he walked like a recently resurrected mummy.
Among the prosaic Tsla the novelty of the rescue quickly wore off and they returned to their daily chores. But there were frequent, shy visits from those he’d saved and from their relatives and friends to thank him.
