Some of the songs he sang were simple, with the children joining in, and others were longer, telling a story. For once, Soren thought, Arion looked truly happy as he sang an old favorite that he written long ago, before life had gotten complicated.

Arion paused from his singing and they both listened to the distant shouting, coming closer, spreading, rippling outward... "Yehiel," Soren whispered. He looked at Arion, but he was frozen, his face deathly pale. The children were rising to their feet as they too recognized the cries warning of the coming attack. "Arion, quick! Get them under cover!"

He looked at them, seeming to remember them only now. He stood, then hesitated, looking back. "Soren..."

"I don't have time to argue," he said shortly, cutting him off, hopefully not too harshly, knowing the slow-motion mirage of shock would pass, and events would be coming far too quickly. Even now he could hear the carrier approaching. "Get them under cover, now! And keep them there!"

Arion turned back to the children who were now very close to panicking. "Come with me," he said, his voice quiet, controlled, authoritative. They welcomed direction, following him eagerly, quickly to the buildings.

Where they went after that Soren didn't know, for he now turned to his own responsibility - the responsibility Arion recognized, but could no longer share. He had a dull, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked for an ambush site. Unprepared, unarmed, his best hope would be to waylay a venator and steal its weapon. He could only hope it would be a laser and not a brotik.

He sprinted to the arbor beside the school, climbing up into the vine-covered rafters as the carrier settled in the center of the large, circular quad. He could still hear shouting and cursed silently. It would be messy this time.

"No," he whispered to himself softly, yet aloud. One of the mothers had come looking for her child in the vacated clearing. Unsuccessful, she stood, turning this way, that way, obviously in an agony of indecision. She understood that it was too late to head for the buildings, and she could also see pitifully little cover anywhere near her. She began jumping for a branch of the tree, meaning to catch hold and pull herself up, as Soren had hidden in the vines, but from the look of her attempts, it was doubtful she could succeed.

She froze, a potter's rabbit, as terrified screaming broke loose in the quad. From his vantage in the vines, Soren could see a young woman being dragged to the carrier. His gut twisted, but he remained still. She would only be the first of many, and nothing he could do would change that. Any contribution he could make would have to wait for its own timing. He looked back at the first woman, who had begun leaping again, less and less efficient as she became frantic. Soren mentally urged her to lie flat and be still. A poor ruse, it might yet prove effective in the empty clearing if the Arlemagen was able to respond in time.

Instead she went to a different tree. Several times her fingers closed on leaves, only to strip them away. Again she froze as a crack of thunder rocked the air, followed by the sharp whistling that announced the arrival of the Starphires. What he would give to be in the air, instead of on the ground, unarmed and helpless! Their presence was an immense comfort, but Soren knew they were far from winning. It was only beginning now, and the escort above might well prevail long enough for the carrier to complete its cargo and escape. Accenting his thoughts, another venator entered the carrier, an unconscious young man slung across his shoulders.

She was casting about again when Soren looked back, searching for yet another tree. He silently cursed her frightened stupidity as she came closer to the buildings. Only time separated her from discovery, only the school separated her from immediate view, yet she was now moving away from it. Glancing back at the carrier, he wondered where Arion had hidden the children. The venators were making a swift, systematic search of the buildings, one even now approaching the school and the arbor. More screaming from another building, suddenly cut short. Their success was high, as Soren had known it would be, and they would be sufficiently loaded soon.

Out of the last building and into the school at the far door... Soren looked at the woman again. For a moment he wondered whose mother she was, then tensed as she suddenly fell to the ground, still. Soren recognized the eye blink hint of light as that of a brotik, but he saw too that the venator was also carrying a laser. Almost under him now, its eyes were on the clearing, marking the spot where the mother had fallen.

Soren dropped on its shoulders, one arm around its neck, the other reaching for the laser. His fingers closed on it, pulling it free, but the venator was falling backward, pulled off balance by the force of Soren's weight. The laser bounced and slid across the flagstones as Soren hit the ground, the venator landing on top of him. It rolled off in a fluid motion, still on one knee as it pulled the brotik. Soren rolled, kicking, and the stun gun too went bouncing across the flagging. Intense brown eyes met his as he stood up. It lunged, and they grappled, wrestling for control. A temporary stalemate, they paused, and the venator's eyes fell on Soren's ring. It looked back at his face and hissed, renewing the struggle.

They broke apart and Soren scuttled sideways, keeping the venator between himself and the guns of the carrier. Wary of his movements the venator allowed it, but came at him again. Wrestling, Soren cried out as his left arm flared with pain, the venator's bite hitting bone. He clawed at its eyes with his right and it released its hold, but struck down on the injury as he pulled away. He staggered backward, feeling he might well be sick, knowing he couldn't afford it now. It glared at him with one eye, the back of its hand pressed against the other, pained, but not injured.

It came forward again, and Soren moved to meet it, driving a sidewise kick upward at its center, but it twisted, accepting the impact on its ribs. Another flurry, and Soren stumbled to one knee, partially winded from a blow across his back. The venator completed it with an upward kick to his stomach, sending him backwards. His head rang against the flagstones, clouding his sight. God help me, he prayed, rolling to his side, unable to breathe. Still blinded, he could see the shadow of motion as it grabbed his shirt, pulling him upward with a dizzying jerk. His right arm came up, instinctively shielding his face, while the left simply clung to the arm that held him.

"Ramos!" echoed a voice, deep and resonant, yet oddly familiar. A brief pause and his eyes were clearing, giving him a view of the venator's chest, his arms. Motion, confusion, his breath coming only in futile inward gasps as he fought back, kicking at its knees. It dropped him and he crawled backwards, still struggling to breathe. Hope and despair warred for supremacy as a second figure stepped between them.

That voice again, and Arion was arguing with the venator. It came forward then, attacking. Arion moved swiftly, eluding, still speaking Venatese. It became quite clear to Soren that Arion did not intend to fight, but was simply warding it off. The others would be on them in no time, and Soren struggled to rise and join him, slipping on the wet flagging. He looked down at the red slick, realizing only then how badly he was bleeding. A glance at the two in front of him, at the laser that lay beyond the venator, and he pulled the decorative lacing from his boot, making a tourniquet for his arm. Holding one end in his teeth, he pulled it tight and tied it off. He stood, but hesitated. The venat had stopped, and was now arguing heatedly. Still glaring, it backed off, then turned and began heading for the carrier, yelling at the others.

"Are you okay?"

He looked at Arion, at his arm, and back at the carrier, not speaking. His breathing was coming heavily now, and while he was highly conscious (and grateful) of it, he was also aware that the carrier was preparing to escape. He glanced at Arion, dumb, and back at the carrier. They couldn't be much more than half full, but they were leaving anyway. Early.

The venator had reached it now, and was standing outside, calling the others in. Suddenly it halted, then ducked as a Starphire swept down and past. A flash of light burst from below, erasing the Starphire's shadow.

"Yes!" shouted Soren as the carrier tipped sideways, settling. The battle was not yet over but win or lose, the carrier had been grounded. He picked up the laser the venator had left behind and slowly started forward, staying close to the walls of the building. His mark was the venator atop the carrier, still operating the laser, still trying to drive off the Starphires. If it succeeded, the grounded venators would be rescued. Now, in their desperation, they were more dangerous than at any other time.

He moved closer, trying to determine the full situation. He could see one atop the carrier, and the one who had attacked him still beside it, moving, but staying low. The rest had apparently scattered to hide, waiting for the outcome. What about inside the carrier? Many a jubilant human had died flinging open the carrier to liberate the captives. He edged around the corner, straining to see what the one on the ground was doing, but he was too low. Was he trying to repair the landing gear? No, he couldn't be. He was too far over, and the gear was obviously crushed.

Uncomfortably aware of Arion behind him, he took aim, and fired. The gunner slumped, then slid, falling to the ground. The venator below jerked about in an odd fashion then held still. He focused on it, but it was too low for a decent shot. The conclusion would be determined in the air, so he waited where he was, watching. Long minutes later, the Starphires began sweeping through in low, lazy passes, searching for venators, indicating that the escort had been routed.

Soren lowered his weapon only now, glancing back over his shoulder towards Arion but not turning around. He sighed heavily and looked back at the carrier. He hadn't even thanked Arion, but he couldn't face him right now, knowing what he had yet to do. Cautiously, he headed for the carrier and could soon see why the venator had remained where he was. The carrier had settled towards them, and the venator's foot was trapped beneath it. Soren marveled that it hadn't been cut clean off. It saw him coming and began to struggle, only to freeze, grasping the pinned leg, panting. It looked up at him and hissed, then past him and shouted angrily.

"Soren," came Arion's voice, strained, tense. "Please. Wait."

He sighed again and turned around. "For what? For the people to come and drag it to the poles? Is that what you want?"

Arion met his gaze, angry and mournful. "That's not fair," he said quietly.

"No. It just is."

Arion looked down at the venator and spoke to it, receiving an angry reply. He glanced at Soren, and spoke again. This time the venator's voice was calmer, but Arion shook his head. And again it spoke, its voice now clearly coaxing.

"Arion, what is this? What's the point? The kindest thing we can do is put it down now."

Arion sighed, frustrated, seeming to agree yet somehow swayed. "He wants to bargain. He wants to trade information in return for being taken to a mountain."

Soren groaned. A means of stalling for time, it was nothing new. Even so, he hated it, knowing that on the mountain the venat would be shackled and left to die of thirst or exposure, a more cruel death than that of a laser. "No," he said shortly, bringing the laser up again. "We don't need his lies."

"No, Soren, please wait."

"Give it up, Arion!" he snapped. "He's using you to stall for time, but you're both making a big mistake. All you're going to get is the chance to hold his hand while he screams because they're twisting his foot. It isn't worth it." He steadied his hand for a clean shot, but Arion began speaking to it again, and he waited.

Its ears went back, its lips lifting in a silent snarl of fear. It answered quickly, glancing at Soren. "He says you know that the people will leave him alone if you tell them they must. They will because he will be your prisoner."

"That won't stop him from dying of thirst on the mountain."

Arion spoke to it again, getting a short, sour reply. "He asks if you care."

"Yes," he retorted bitterly. "I don't like letting anything suffer. Not even venats. You'd rather turn him over for questioning, knowing he'll die anyway?"

"All I can do is translate," he answered sharply, angry. "You think I don't know? You're angry with me because it hurts me to watch him die, but I can't change that. I'm not telling you what to do Soren, I'm just telling you what he said." He turned abruptly and walked away.

Soren hesitated, then glared down at the venator. "You'll regret it," he said harshly, lowering the laser. He moved over to the hatchway and opened it slowly. "Come on out," he called sharply, standing to one side.

"There's no one here," came the answer. "We're by ourselves, but we're already locked in."

Soren sighed yet again, this time in relief. He stepped in cautiously just the same and checked the forward compartments. Satisfied, he came back and eyed the 'cargo'. They were a mixed group, the youngest a girl of probably five or six cycles. A shoddy, reckless crew, the venators had simply divided the rear compartment into two crude cages, shoving the people in and locking the doors. Such a setup would have made for a harsh trip through the atmosphere, but now it made his job much simpler. A single shot on each latch, and the doors swung open.

They seemed hesitant still, subdued, but he didn't have the time nor energy for them now, so he turned and left them. He paused at the hatchway, but none of the fleeing venators had returned. He could hear a Valerian already landing in the fields outside the town. Open tundra surrounded the seaside village, and the venators would have as much trouble finding a place to hide as the young mother he had watched. He thought of her then, but he couldn't leave now. She would be uncomfortable, but she would be all right.

He gazed down at the venator, his prisoner, but its eyes were on the people beginning to emerge from the carrier. It lay quietly, wary, still breathing heavily but no longer panting. The stupid beast simply didn't want to die and was putting it off as long as possible. The people began to mill about, staring at the venator and talking excitedly. "Leave it alone," said Soren gruffly, wondering why he hadn't put it down. "It's going up."

A venator screamed somewhere in the distance, and several of the people cheered. The venat's ears went back, but it didn't move. At last two Fadeys appeared, approaching the carrier. "Hey Soren!" Sam greeted him cheerily. "Since when do you take captives?" he asked curiously.

"Since they bargain with information," he answered sourly. "It's not to go to the poles. Up for questioning, and then back to the mountain."

"Fine by me," answered Sam innocently, holding up his arms in surrender, smiling. He folded them then, considering the venat. "You'll have to clear it with the council though."

Again Soren wondered why he had let it live, angry that he had allowed Arion to sway him, but most of all, he was angry with himself for having treated Arion so harshly. "They can clear it or forget it," he said crossly. "I'll put it down myself."

"Whatever," said Sam carefully while Marcus gave a dubious laugh. "First things first though. Let me see that arm."

"I'll be fine," he answered, shrugging Sam off. "First thing is to get this stupid animal up. If I leave it here there's no telling what they'll do to it."

Sam eyed him curiously, then shrugged, obviously opposed yet deciding to yield. Marcus was annoyingly amused, but he said, "I'll go get a lift to pry up the carrier."

"What kind of information?" asked Sam as they waited. "It doesn't have any rank."

"I don't know. Maybe nothing. Arion says it'll answer questions if we protect it from the poles and take it to a mountain."

He laughed slightly. "I thought Arion would be mixed up in this somehow. But it makes sense too. The Gryphusani are quick and clean."

Soren shook his head. "You know I don't believe in that. The Gryphusani don't muck around in our problems. Stupid things just die of exposure, thirst, or whatever. Besides, I would've done it myself, now, quick and clean. It's just stalling for time."

"Could be," he agreed. "No harm in checking it out though. It gets a little more time, we get a little information. No harm in that."

Marcus returned with a lift, handing Soren a muzzle and cuffs. "Get these on it and I'll set up the lift."

Soren accepted them, then gently tossed the muzzle within its reach. "Put it on." It picked it up and looked at it, then at Soren. "Put it on," he repeated, miming. "Make a choice," he said darkly, displaying the laser when it remained still. It twisted its ears back, but examined the muzzle and put it on.

"Good. Now put your hands behind you back," he said, miming once again. It shifted slowly, raising its shoulders to comply, but halted, grabbing hold of the pinned leg, snarling through teeth clamped shut by the muzzle. Looking up at Soren, it flinched, as if expecting a blow, then gingerly settled back again, its arm behind and beneath it now, the other still grasping the leg.

"Sure is trying hard to cooperate," remarked Sam.

"Yeah," he answered, snapping the cuffs on. "Here, hand me your bag."

"What do you need?" he asked, bringing it over.

"Something to numb its leg."

"Okay. Move over. I'll do it."

"You're going to waste that on a venat?" asked Marcus. "Why not give it to Soren? He looks like he could use it."

"I'm fine," Soren growled, moving over.

"Don't start you two," said Sam with a weary tone. "I have plenty. Besides, it's liable to go into shock and die if we don't use something. Don't start the lift until this takes effect."

The venator hissed at the sight of the injection, its ears flattened back and its eyes desperate, yet it held quite still. "Shut up and let him help you," Soren said crossly, looking at it. Whether it understood or simply gave in, Soren couldn't tell, but it made no further objection. It lifted its lips slightly as Sam shot the medicine in, but then laid its head down and closed its eyes as the drug began to work.

They waited silently for several moments, and then Marcus tapped its leg with his finger. He got no response, so he began to run the lift. Now the venat took notice, lifting its head to watch. Soren would have preferred that it didn't; he was in no mood for hysterics should the foot prove messy. "Okay," said Marcus lightly, stopping the lift. "Pull him out."

Soren and Sam crouched together, each taking hold of an arm, and gently pulled the venator out from under. Soren grimaced at the pain in his arm, annoyed that his efforts were for the brute that had caused it. They set him down gently and Soren paused for breath. "Let's go get a stretcher," he said, rising.