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exceptional filth. When his gaze rose again, he too was grinning. "S'truth, I
am, aren't I? And you-if you sought refuge in a pig sty, the hogs would throw
you out and hold their noses while doing it!" He started to chuckle. "I have
no doubt," Ehomba admitted. The swordsman nodded upward. "That wasn't dirt you
threw at our late unlamented host, was it?" Eager curiosity burned in his
expression. "It was some kind of magic grit, or powdered thrall. Are you a
sorcerer?" Ehomba shook his head dolefully. "I am only a herdsman, from the
south." "Yeah, yeah, so you said. But what was that stuff?" "Just as I
explained: dirt." Ehomba eyed the obliterated hut speculatively. "But it was
clean dirt, free of corruption, from my home village. In a desert country,
soil that is good enough to grow food in is revered. It is a precious thing,
and looked after with care. For what is more magical than the ability to bring
forth food from the bare earth?" He nodded up the slope.
"I kept it with me as a remembrance of my home. It came from a small plot that
my wife tended that had
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by Oura, the mother of Asab, our chief. She is a wise woman, and skilled in
the ways of the earth. I did not think its purity would suit Corruption."
"Suit him? By Girun, it gave him a damned bellyache, it did!" Simna started
upward, fighting the slippery slope with renewed energy. "Now let's get after
it." "Get after it?" The herdsman frowned. "Get after what?" "Why, his
treasure, of course."
Simna eyed him as if he had suddenly gone daft. "Everyone knows that wherever
Corruption lingers for very long there is treasure. There are all kinds of
corruption, you know. Somewhere up there should be a hoard of riches amassed
from the morally corrupt, from crooked magistrates and bent politicians and
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backdoor guards." Ehomba wanted nothing to do with any treasure that had been
gathered by
Corruption. But as always, his curiosity tugged at him more powerfully than
common sense. "I thought you were traveling in search of inner peace?" Using
broken stems and branches to pull himself up the steep slope, Simna ibn Sind
smirked back at him. "Gold pieces first, my friend. Inner peace later." "I do
not agree with your priorities," Ehomba grumbled as he followed behind. The
shorter man leaped slightly to grab a thick root protruding from the hillside.
With the agility of a gibbon, he pulled himself up and continued ascending.
"You saved my life, Etjole. So I'm not going to argue with you. But I give you
fair warning right now: Whatever happens, don't ever try to get between me and
treasure." "I have no interest in treasure," the herdsman replied softly.
"Hoy, right, that's what they all say." But as he continued to climb, the
compact swordsman was less sure of himself, just as he was less than certain
of his quiet-voiced companion. An odd duck for sure, he thought. The concern
did not linger. There was treasure to be unearthed and he was going to find
it-even if it meant digging through untold layers of exploded, accumulated
foulness.
XITHEY FOUND NOTHING IN THE HUT, BUT THERE WAS A SLANTING cave behind it that
was high enough for a man to enter, if he bent slightly. Remarking that
corruption burned well, Simna fashioned torches for them both and started in.
Ehomba was content to follow. If anything, the stench in the enclosed tunnel
was even worse than that without, but nothing could compare with the odor that
had momentarily filled the air during the detonation of Corruption himself.
"Who told you there would be treasure here?" Ehomba kept his attention on the
well-slimed floor instead of his eager companion. "You hear things." Simna
kept flashing his torch from side to side to ensure nothing was overlooked.
"Besides, doesn't money always follow corruption?" "I would not know," the
herdsman replied frankly. "There is none of it in my village, nor among my
tribe." "'Tribe,'" Simna muttered. "Hoy, that figures. You're not exactly a
sophisticate from the big city, are you, bruther?" "Kora Keri is the biggest
town I have ever seen, and that only recently." "Well, lemme tell you,
Etjole-I can call you by your friendly name, can't
I?" "You just did," Ehomba pointed out pragmatically. "Etjole, if there's one
thing I know, it's corruption." If it occurred to Simna that admitting to this
body of knowledge might reflect less than favorably upon him personally he
gave no sign that he realized it. "And believe me, money follows it the way a
honey badger tracks bees." His torch swept back and forth, the swinging flame
leaving behind a wake of flickering light. "It's got to be here somewhere.
It's got to!" "Perhaps that is what you are looking for up ahead." "What?"
Simna had been gazing back at his companion. Now his attention shifted
forward. Raising his torch as high as the tunnel would allow, he saw what he
had hoped to find glittering back at him. The gold was piled higher than a
man, higher even than one as tall as the rangy herdsman.
Coins, bracelets, rings, chokers, tiaras, bullion, slabbed bars, goblets,
plates, and all manner of other devices lay in a single imposing heap, as if
casually discarded during a trash pickup. Peering from the small mountain of
gold like iridescent insects were jeweled earrings and buttons, rings and
wristlets, and
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elaborately carved lapidary decorations. Eyes wild as a mad kudu, Simna ibn
Sind had prepared to take a flying leap onto the golden hillside when he felt
a hand restraining him. Attempting to shake it off, he was startled by the
strength of the grip. Tough and well built himself, he quickly became
frustrated at his inability to loosen that unyielding grasp. Cobalt blue eyes
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flashed at Ehomba. "What's the idea, bruther? Let me go! Or are you going to
stand there like a disapproving priest and tell me you have no love for gold
yourself?" "Actually, I do not," Ehomba told him, quite honestly. "It is you I
am concerned for." Licking his lips in anticipation, Simna's gaze darted
between his eccentric friend and the kingdom's ransom that dominated the
chamber. "Don't worry about me. This will fix anything that's wrong with me."
"When I was young," the herdsman went on, still keeping a firm grip on the
other man, "I learned that many delicious-looking fruits are safe from grazing
animals despite their enticing appearance because they contain one form or
another of deadly poison." He nodded at the hoard. "Here is the treasure of
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