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many of the people who'd been there when he was, but, as usual, they had seen
the brown robe more than him, and he looked quite different now. Before they
had seen a magician; now they saw a slave moving with purpose and obviously
carrying out a command. Not even the Hedum guards gave him a second glance. He
headed for a likely spot the field latrines just in the woods but as soon as
he was close to there he veered off to the right and doubled back behind the
death scene.
There were no obvious signs immediately behind, and he paused a moment. Think,
Dorion, tired as you are! You're blind and you have to get away and be sure
you do. You can't see, and you don't have the null reference after this point,
so how can you be sure?
Hearing. That assemblage out there made a constant, terri-
ble racket that he'd gotten used to through the night. So you walk away from
the noise. Well, that gave him a place to start.
After several hours, he was beginning to panic, fearing that he'd made a
dreadful mistake. The area, even assuming walking generally away from the
noise, included a wide triangle, and there was almost certainty that she
wouldn't have managed anything close to a straight line. Might there be
something up there that would stop her? A wall or steep drop, perhaps? Go
directly away and see it was the only thing he could think of that he hadn't
already tried.
About a third of a mile in the woods, he hit the creek, meandering peacefully
through the forest. At first it was only welcome water, far too small and too
shallow to be the kind
204 ]ack L. Chalker of barrier he sought, but as he went down to it to drink,
he lost his fooling in the soft earth, and slid down into it. Now a bit
bruised and mud-caked, he sat there in the water suddenly
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exhaustion. Sure he could see this thing and know it wasn't much, but she
couldn't!
To her this might be nothing, or it might be a great, wide river or sea. He
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drank, then picked a direction, and started walking.
Now, for a change, the fates were with him. Less than a hundred yards from his
starting point he found a part of the bank given way and signs that someone
had done pretty much what he'd done. It was so broken he thought she'd fallen
down and then clamored back up, and he did likewise and searched the area but
could not find her. He returned to the break and looked across the stream and
now could see what might be signs of somebody getting out the other side. That
was discouraging, since it meant the creek hadn't stopped her after all, and
he might have an even wider area to search.
Driven by his self-imposed compulsion and against the pro-
tests of his body, he waded across to the other side and climbed up on the
other bank, telling himself that no matter how wrecked he was, he was still in
better shape than those poor wretches back at the border.
Still, he knew that even to complete his compulsion he'd have to get some
rest. He was feeling dizzy, had a hell of a headache, and was seeing things
all blurry. He began search-
ing along the creek bank for some kind of decent cover he could use to lie
down just for a little bit, to get himself back into some kind of shape.
And suddenly he saw her, lying there like some dirty, limp rag doll, unmoving
behind the bushes. He ran to her, fearing that she might be dead, and knelt
down beside her. He took her, shook her gently, and said, "Mistress! Mistress!
Are you all right? Wake up and speak to me!"
She stirred, mumbled something, then suddenly her eyes were open and she was
aware first that she was in someone's grip and began to scream and push away,
but then she saw him. Not Dorion, of course, but that magic aura whose dis-
tinctive shape she'd shared most of a long journey with.
"Dorion?"
He felt like crying. "Mistress, you live! You are all right'"
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM 205
She frowned, unable to see the shape he was in, reached out, and began to run
her hand over his body. "Dorion why are you oh my! Sorry! naked? And what's
this mistress crap?"
He lay down beside her and tried to relax, then told her the whole story. She
had slept so hard that, while still exhausted, she felt wide awake and
clear-headed, although her head was killing her when she moved. She listened,
fascinated.
"Let me get this straight. To get out of there without getting noticed, you
made yourself my slave? Jeez! All the time I been here, I been somebody else's
property. Will it wear off?"
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"No. Mistress. It can only be removed by two magicians of some skill. Third
Rank, or a Second Rank sorcerer with some time and a lot of work. It's not
supposed to be easy to undo."
"Even if I gave you.freedom?"
"No, Mistress, that would be worse. Then I'd be a stave with no master, and
the first free person who touched me would be my new master."
"Well, I wouldn't, if I could. I don't want you away from me from now on, and
this'11 keep you close. You made your bed and you're stuck with me, but cut
that Mistress crap. It sounds wrong when it's addressed to me. Just Charley is
fine."
That pleased him. "As you wish Charley."
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