"You know it isn't, Earl."
"Then forget it." Gently he lifted his hands and dropped them on her shoulders, squeezing before turning away. "Let's look at the rest of the carnival."
A crowd thronged around a table on which a man manipu shy;lated cards. Dumarest won thirty coryms by finding the jester, spent half a corym on a mass of sticky sweetmeat for Lallia and paused before a booth. Young men were practic shy;ing their skill by throwing knives at a target. The leather-lunged operator saw the couple and called an invitation.
"A corym for six blades, my lord. A prize for getting them all in the center."
Dumarest paid his coin and hefted the knives. They were badly balanced, crudely fashioned, and showed marks of wear. But they had a point and that was enough. His arm rose, the hand moving forward, the knife a blur as it left his fingers. The thud as it hit the target was repeated five more times.
"You win, my lord!" The operator looked anxious. "A set of six entitles you to anything on display."
Lallia chose a doll, a pretty thing with long, silken hair and clothes of finely spun fabric.
"You wish to play again, my lord?" The operator smiled his relief as Dumarest shook his head. "It can be done," he bawled as the pair moved away. "You have seen it! Roll up and test your skill!"
"So you can throw knives, Earl," said Lallia as they walked past the glittering booths. "What else don't I know about you? Never mind," she said, not waiting for an answer. "I'll find out. I've a lifetime to do it in. Right, lover?"
He looked at her, tall, beautiful, the doll cradled in her arms, and felt a sudden wave of tenderness. It would be good to find somewhere to settle down, to build a home, and to find immortality in children. Good enough, perhaps, to eliminate his need to search for a forgotten world.
"Look!" Lallia pointed to where an arched opening stood before them. "Freaks and interstellar zoo," she read. "Can we go in, Earl?"
A man stepped forward as they passed into the area be shy;yond the arch. He was old with a sunken face and eyes which held a burning intensity.
"My lord and lady," he said. "I beg of your charity. For the love of all you hold sacred help the pilgrims to Shrine."
Lallia looked around. "Pilgrims?"
"Those within, my lady." The man gestured towards the opening of a tent. "The animals are beyond, but the others need no cage."
"The freaks?" Lallia frowned. "I thought you said they were pilgrims."
"They are both, my lady. The journey is long and costly so they display their infirmities in order to raise funds. It is not a pleasant thing to do but what is pride against neces shy;sity?"
The interior of the tent was dim with a pale green lighting which threw no shadows and yet was gentle to the eyes. A score or more of figures sat or sprawled against the walls on heaped piles of rags. Many appeared to be asleep. All were grotesquely deformed.
"Medical science cannot aid them." The man had accom shy;panied Lallia and Dumarest into the tent. "They are trans shy;plant immune, or they are so distorted that nothing can be done. There are others who suffer less visible infirmity, those with strange diseases and stranger internal growths, but these are not on display."
"And all are bound for Shrine?" asked Dumarest.
"That is so, my lord. There, if their faith is strong, they will be cured. The weak shall rise and walk, the crippled stand straight and tall, the deformed be relieved of their afflictions." He held out his collecting bowl. "Of your charity, my lord. I beg it in their name." He stared as Dumarest poured coins into the bowl. "My lord! Our thanks for your generosity. May good fortune attend you."
Outside Lallia said, "You're crazy, Earl. That or soft. Why did you give him so much?"
"You've been stranded," said Dumarest quietly. "You know what it's like. But you had your health and strength. Can you imagine what it must be like for those poor devils?"
"You're right, Earl, I'm sorry." She bit her lip and then, brightening, said, "Well, it's done and good luck to them. Let's go and look at the animals."
They were a poor collection, beasts from a dozen worlds, furred, clawed, tailed, and armored; most were offshoots of the animals men had taken with them, a few native to local planets. A scaled thing chittered and threshed its wings. A legged snake crawled, eyes like jewels, jaws agape to show a darting tongue. A thing of tendrils and wirelike hair swung in a tight ball from the top of its cage. The air was thick with a dozen odors.
A straggle of revelers hung around the cages, a small group standing before one containing a furred, manlike crea shy;ture, laughing as they tormented it with their whips and the thrusts of long canes. Dumarest looked towards them, past them, narrowing his eyes as he caught a flash of yellow. Yalung? The figure was the same but he had only caught a glimpse-and yellow and black were common colors during a festival.
Lallia shrugged when he mentioned it. "The dealer? No, I didn't see him, but if he's here what of it? I guess he has to relax sometime, like the rest of us."
She wandered off, intent on the animals, leaving Duma-rest behind. He stood, barely interested in the exhibition, waiting until the girl had slaked her curiosity. He watched as she moved towards the cage holding the tormented beast. A man laughed as she protested, and he deliberately thrust again with his cane. The beast stirred, smashing at the stick and tearing it from the man's grasp. Incensed he struck at it with his whip.
"Don't!" Lallia caught at his arm.
"Get away from me, you bitch!"
He pushed, sending the woman sprawling, lifting his whip to strike again. A tuft of fur and blood sprang from the point of impact. The beast roared and flung itself against the bars. Abruptly the entire front of the cage swung open with a grate of yielding metal.
"Lallia!" Dumarest was running as the animal sprang from the cage, one swipe of its paw sending its tormentor hurtling to one side with a crushed skull. "Lallia!"
She moved, crouching on the ground, eyes terrified as she looked at the beast advancing towards her. It was a mutated sport, five feet tall with the body of a gorilla and the fangs, teeth, and muzzle of a bear. As she rose it snarled and jumped towards her.
Dumarest met it in midair.
It was like hitting a wall, a compact mass of bone and sinew three times the weight of a man. He felt himself fall, the sour reek of the thing's breath harsh in his nostrils, and rolled desperately to avoid the raking claws. They rose to shy;gether, the beast lightning fast, and Dumarest knew that to run would be suicide. He sprang forward before the creature could wholly regain its balance, ramming the top of his skull under the lower jaw, wedging his boots be shy;tween the hind legs and locking his arms around the furred barrel of the chest.
He strained, muscles cracking as he tried to break the animal's spine. His body was an arched bow, head and feet pressing hard into throat and groin. The teeth couldn't hurt him, the claws on the hind legs couldn't reach him but he could do nothing about the vicious claws on the forepaws. He felt them rip at his shoulders and back, tearing the plastic of his uniform and ripping into the flesh beneath.
Again he heaved, the breath choking in his lungs, face turned to avoid the smothering mat of fur. It was as if he pulled against a mountain. He tensed, straightening so as to press the creature's head back so that it looked at the sky. It snarled and tore at his sides as he strained against the rigid back, knowing that his only chance was to break neck or spine.
He felt something yield and the beast whimpered, a small sound deep in its chest. Gritting his teeth, Dumarest sum shy;moned the last of his strength.