Teldin leaned over to Aelfred. "Where's Tregimesticus?" he whispered.
Aelfred blinked in surprise. "Aboard the Probe," he answered. "Where else?"
"I thought I saw him in the gallery."
The warrior smiled. "That's doubtful," he pointed out. "Tregimesticus still has the slave mentality real bad. If he wanted to come ashore, he'd have to ask for permission to catch the tender. And before that, he'd have to decide he wanted to. Can you see Tregimesticus doing either of those things?"
Teldin remembered the exchange with Garay, how the ex-slave didn't even have the initiative to pick up the marlin spike that had fallen at his feet. Teldin grinned back. "Not really. I guess I just saw his twin."
"You mean there's someone who looks like Tregimesticus?" Aelfred asked in mock alarm. "Poor bugger."
Teldin chuckled as he settled back into his seat.
The auctioneer's drone suddenly stopped in mid-bid. There was silence for a moment, then the rush of whispered conversation. Throughout the rotunda, heads turned.
Teldin looked behind him. Another figure-obviously a participant-was entering the rotunda. The new arrival certainly stood apart from the others. Twelve feet tall, bald head brushing the underside of the gallery, T'k'Pek, the arcane, made his entrance. Standing, with his long robe hanging in unbroken swaths to the floor, the creature looked little like the gangly figure Teldin had seen aboard the Nebulon. Now he moved regally, imperially ignoring the consternation his arrival was causing. There was an empty chair in the back row. T'k'Pek seemed to consider it, then discard the idea. He would have looked ludicrous trying to squat on a human chair much too small for him, Teldin realized. The arcane turned his dark eyes on the staring auctioneer. "Pray continue," the giant said in his thin, high-pitched voice.
The auctioneer didn't respond for a moment, then swallowed visibly. "Of course," he muttered, "of course. The bid is-" for the first time, he had to consult the notes he was continuously taking "-three hundred fifty gold pieces. Do I hear four hundred?"
The auction quickly returned to normal. The participants refocused their attention on the stage, and even the spectators in the gallery eventually stopped whispering and muttering about the alien figure standing at the back of the crowd. "Bale Estriss" kept his head turned to the rear, his eyes fixed on the arcane.
Why? Teldin wondered. The illithid knew T'k'Pek was interested in the same items as he was. Why the surprised stare?
Maybe it was because the illithid had expected T'k'Pek to send his human representative, Barrab. That could explain it, Teldin decided. And it was a good point. Why would the arcane draw so much attention to himself-attention that could very well disrupt the auction-unless that was the giant's whole intention….
"The next item," the auctioneer was saying, "is a long knife of unique design and unknown provenance." Estriss's face snapped to the front, his gaze unwavering. Teldin could almost feel the illithid's excitement. On the stage, one of the young men was holding a long knife-a short sword, really- of unusual design.
Unusual, but also familiar. Teldin had seen that smoothly curved blade before, that same long hilt, built up into a complex pattern of ridges and channels. It was a twin to the weapon Estriss had shown him aboard the Probe, soon after Teldin's scrap with the scavver. The knife that Estriss believed had been forged-no, grown-by the Juna.
The disguised illithid was almost quivering with tension. He was leaning over toward Aelfred, their heads almost in contact.
"Bidding is open," the auctioneer announced. "Do I hear five hundred gold pieces?"
There was a murmur from the crowd. Even though Teldin hadn't been paying close attention to the auction, he realized this was a high starting price for something so apparently mundane. Obviously somebody apart from the illithid suspected the significance of the knife. He glanced over toward Estriss. Maybe that would work to the illithid's advantage, however, he mused. It would certainly discourage anyone with only casual interest from pushing the price up.
Aelfred's strong voice cut through the background muttering. "Five hundred gold pieces."
So that's how they're playing it, Teldin thought. The big warrior would actually be placing the bids, under Estriss's silent instructions. A good system.
"I have five hundred gold pieces," the auctioneer echoed. "Do I hear six?"
Teldin glanced over his shoulder at the arcane. T'k'Pek stood motionless and silent at the back of the crowd. The giant's expression seemed a little bemused.
If Teldin was expecting the next bid to come from the arcane, he was surprised. An affluent-looking merchant in the front row gestured negligently. "Five hundred and fifty," he announced.
Aelfred responded immediately. "Six hundred gold pieces."
The murmurs started again. Six hundred gold pieces was already much too high a price to pay for a sword, particularly one of an impractical design. All around Teldin, people were speculating on why this particular weapon was worth so much… and whether that puzzle was related to the blue-skinned giant's presence.
"Six hundred gold pieces," said the auctioneer. "Do I hear seven… ?"
"Seven thousand gold pieces." The arcane's reedlike voice echoed through the suddenly silent rotunda.
The auctioneer swallowed again, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his scrawny throat. "Milord," he began uncertainly, "the bidding is at seven hundred…"
"Seven thousand gold pieces," T'k'Pek said again. The creature's voice was as emotionless as the wind.
The marble-floored room rang with startled conversation. Seven thousand gold pieces? When seven hundred was already a ridiculous price to pay for such an item?
The auctioneer was finding this heavy going. He used his brass gavel to rap for silence. It took several tries before he could still the uproar. "The bid," he said, "is seven… thousand… gold pieces. Do I hear seven thousand five hundred?"
Estriss and Aelfred were in consultation. Naturally, Teldin could hear only Aelfred's voice. After a few moments, the big warrior nodded agreement. "Seven and five," he said clearly.
"Ten thousand gold pieces."
Once more, heads turned, almost quickly enough to dislocate vertebrae, and the noise level reached new heights. If the arcane was even aware of the stupefaction he had caused, he gave no sign. His face was expressionless, and his gaze was fixed unwaveringly on the sword displayed on the stage.
The man sitting on Teldin's left snorted in disgust. His plump cheeks were suffused with color; in fact, he looked almost apoplectic. "… just doesn't understand the concept of an auction," he was gurgling in outrage.
Teldin looked back toward Aelfred and Estriss. There was no conversation now. The first mate was looking at his captain, waiting for his next instruction. Estriss was gazing unseeingly forward. Even magically disguised, the creature's face showed the distress it must be feeling.
"The bid is ten thousand gold pieces," said the auctioneer. "Do I hear another bid? I have ten thousand. Final bid?" He looked directly at Aelfred. "Milord?"
Aelfred glanced once more at Estriss… then shook his head firmly.
"Final bid, ten thousand gold pieces," the auctioneer repeated. "And sold!' He brought down his gavel with a conclusive crack. "Sold to the, er… the gentleman, er…"
Participants and spectators roared their consternation once more. Serenely, totally untouched by the tumult surrounding him, the arcane glided to the stage, where he handed over a small square of parchment to one of the attendants. Another attendant handed over the bizarre sword, which the giant concealed within the folds of his flowing garment. Then he turned his back on the auction and made a silent department.