"Yalung!" He heard Lallia's shout above the roar of blood in his ears. "Good God's sake, hurry!"
The beast whimpered again, yielding even more and then, suddenly, convulsed with an explosion of energy which sent Dumarest staggering to one side, to fall and rise fighting for breath, shaking his head to clear the mist from his eyes.
He saw the animal lying dead, Yalung standing over it with a rod of iron in his hands, the end of the improvised spear thick with blood.
"Earl!" Lallia ran towards him, eyes enormous in the pal shy;lor of her face. "My God, Earl, your back!"
He straightened, feeling the burn of multiple lacerations, and looking down saw that his sides and legs were drenched with blood. More blood made a puddle on the ground. The claws of the beast had ripped wide and deep.
And, suddenly, there was pain.
VIII
lallia said, "I'm sorry, Earl. I had no choice. There was nothing else to do but get you back to the Moray."
Dumarest looked at her from where he lay on the bunk. She was wearing the iridescent dress and the thick coils of her midnight hair hung loose about her shoulders. The light gleamed from the naked flesh of her arms, the long curves of her thighs.
"You had a choice," he said quietly. "You could have taken me to a local doctor."
"Yes," she admitted. "I could but I didn't think of it. You were in a hell of a mess, passing out with weakness and pain, and Yalung seemed to know just what to do. He washed you down and shot you full of dope and antibiotics. At first I thought of moving you before it was too late but Sheyan left early. The rest you know."
A time of pain interspersed with gulps of basic, the sting of antiseptics, the discomfort of changed dressings. Of drug-induced sleep and the sparing magic of slowtime. Dumarest sat upright and looked at his naked body, seeing the thin lines of scar tissue on his sides. There would be more on his back and shoulders: newly healed wounds which would eventually harden.
"A local doctor could have got me fit within two days," he said. "Using slowtime and intravenous feeding. But it would have cost money. Did you think of that?"
Lallia met his eyes. "At first, no, but I did later. All right, Earl, so I begrudged the cost. It would have taken all we had and I didn't fancy us being stranded on Joy. And what's the difference? So we didn't quit the Moray, but there will be another chance later."
Dumarest rose and looked down at the woman. He saw the pallor of fatigue, the lines of weariness marring her beauty. She could have left him. She could have let him die. Instead she had sat beside him in constant attendance.
"You're tired," he said. "Lie down and get some rest"
"I'm all right, Earl."
"Do it." He stooped and lifted her from the chair. "I don't want you losing your beauty."
"As long as you want me, Earl." She clung to him. "Any way you want," she whispered. "But just keep wanting."
He smiled and pressed her to the bunk. Turning he opened the lockers. His uniform had been ruined and he had the choice of wearing the protective clothing or those he had worn before joining the ship. He chose his own, slipping into the gray plastic, the material comforting in its protec shy;tion. Had he worn it on Joy the claws of the beast would never have penetrated the wire mesh buried in the material. The knife fell as he adjusted the tunic and he thrust it into his boot.
That's better." Lallia looked at him as he stood beside the bunk. "You never did look quite at home in that han shy;dler's uniform."
"Go to sleep," he said, closing the lockers. Turning off the light he stepped from the cabin.
Yalung looked up from the table as Dumarest entered the salon, watching as he drew a cup of basic, refilling it twice more before setting it down.
"You were hungry," said the dealer. "A healthy sign. You are fully recovered?"
"Yes." Dumarest looked at the yellow face, the enigmatic eyes. "I must thank you for coming to my aid with that spear. And again for looking after me."
"The woman did that." A scatter of gems lay on the sur shy;face of the table, tiny lights winking from their facets. "She tended you as if you were her child. My own part was small. If I could offer advice I would suggest that you conserve your strength. The wounds were stubborn to heal. The claws of the beast must have carried a mutated infection. Once I despaired for your life." His hand touched the gems. "I gathered from the woman that you intended to leave us at Joy."
"I'd thought of it."
"A man needs money in the Web. It may help if I bought your ring. A thousand as offered."
Dumarest shook his head.
"Of course," mused Yalung, "if it has an interesting history I could offer more. The value of such things is enhanced by an attendant story. If you would care to tell me of its origins, how you obtained it, details like that I could, per shy;haps, offer fifteen hundred."
"The ring is not for sale," said Dumarest shortly. "Again I give you my thanks for your attentions."
Yalung bowed. "Perhaps you will accommodate me in a hand of cards?"
"Later," said Dumarest, and left the salon.
Outside, in the passage, he hesitated, then made his way towards Nimino's cabin. The navigator smiled as he entered.
"Earl, my friend, you are fit and well. Truly my appeals have been answered. Laugh if you wish but the beliefs of millions cannot be ignored. I have burned sweet scents to Shume, the goddess of healing, on your behalf and she has answered my pleas."
"This?" Dumarest glanced to where a metal bowl held a smoldering substance and painted symbols lay in careful ar shy;rangement around a globe of crystal in which drifted colored motes.
Nimino shook his head, abruptly solemn. "No, my friend, this is not for you. For many hours now I have been trou shy;bled by a sense of impending doom. It is as if, somewhere, a storm was pending but I do not know where or when it will break. I am disturbed and ill at ease. You sense noth shy;ing?"
"No," said Dumarest.
"Nor Lallia?"
"She is asleep."
"Then I am alone." Nimino shivered, a sudden convulsion of his nerves. "I hope it is nothing, but once, when I felt like this, a city was lost in an unexpected eruption. The Kharma Ball warned that I should leave."
Dumarest knelt and looked at the crystal ball, his hands resting on the floor to either side. The colored motes were, he guessed, fragments of organic life drifting in a supporting medium. Their purpose he couldn't imagine but he assumed they would be affected by vibration or sonic impulses.
Vibration?
He tensed, concentrating on the tips of his fingers. Rising he placed them against the metal bulkhead. The faint quiver of the Erhaft field was easily felt.
"Nimino," he said quietly. "Check the field." He waited until the navigator had placed his slender fingers on the metal and then said, "Can you feel it?"
"Yes, Earl." Nimino's eyes grew wide, pools of glistening brilliance in the darkness of his face. "So this is what I sensed!"
The quivering pulse of the heart of the ship. The tiny vibration which was the only discernible sign of its correct working.
A vibration which was not as it should be.
Dumarest heard Lin's voice as they ran towards the engine room.
"Claude! I tell you the dials are showing red! You've got to do something!"
"Shut your mouth!" The engineer's voice was a raging bellow. "Are you trying to tell me my job? You, a snotty-nosed lad still wet behind the ears?"
"But, Claude!" The steward was desperate. "The manual says that when the panel looks like that the generators are getting out of phase. For God's sake, put down that bottle and do something. Do you want to wreck the ship?"