Skel said, "You have made a poor beginning, Shimrod or Travec, whatever your name. Our conversation is on a high level. You would do well to listen."
Shimrod spoke sternly: "I have a limited mind. I insist upon obedience. Let us be clear on this at once; otherwise I must consult Murgen."
"Bah!" said Voner. "Just our luck! In Shimrod we discover another of these short-tail snatch-after martinets!"
"Silence, if you please!"
"Just so, if so it must be," said Voner. "Skel, I will speak with you later, when Shimrod is less testy."
"By all means! The time cannot pass too swiftly, as they say in this eccentric universe."
The effrits became silent save for occasional groans and mutters. Shimrod, meanwhile, formulated a biography for Travec and stocked his mind with pertinent information. Next, he established safeguards to protect Trilda from interlopers during his absence. An ironic circumstance if while he searched the moors for Desmei, she came to Trilda and plundered his work room of all its precious adjuncts!
Shimrod's preparations at last were complete. He went to the mirror and made himself known to Murgen. "I am ready to depart on my mission."
Murgen inspected the unfamiliar image that confronted him. "The semblance is adequate, if somewhat larger in impact than necessary. Still, who knows? It might prove useful. Now then: go six miles past Kaul Bocach on the Ulf Passway. Here you will find the Inn of the Dancing Pig."
"I know this inn."
"You will discover four cutthroats on the premises. They are awaiting orders from King Casmir. Let it be known that King Casmir has sent you to join the group, and that a certain Cory of Falonges will shortly arrive to serve as their leader on a special mission."
"So far all is clear."
"You should have no difficulty in attaching yourself to Cory's band. His orders are to assassinate King Aillas and, if possible, to capture Prince Dhrun.
"Cory will lead this company to Glen Dagach. Here, depending upon circumstances, you might transfer from Cory's band to that of Torqual. But move quietly and excite no one. At the moment Desmei feels no suspicion. Do not blunder and drive her into far hiding."
Shimrod nodded. "And thereafter: what of Cory?"
"He becomes inconsequential." The mirror went blank.
II
Travec the Dacian rode a hammer-headed dun horse north along the Great Ulf Passway. To the right of his saddle a lacquered box contained a short compound bow and two dozen arrows; at his left side hung a long scimitar, somewhat narrow-bladed, in a leather scabbard. He wore a black cloth shirt, loose trousers and knee-length black boots. A cloak, a chin-mail shirt and a conical iron helmet were tied in a roll behind the saddle.
He rode slouched forward, eyes flickering constantly from side to side. Weapons, garments, and general mien identified Travec as a vagabond warrior or perhaps something worse. The folk he met along the way gave him a wide berth and saw him pass with relief.
Travec had ridden almost six miles beyond the fortress Kaul Bocach. On the left rose the mighty Teach tac Teach; to the right the Forest of Tantrevalles bordered the road, approaching some times so closely that branches shaded away the sky. Ahead, a small wayside inn showed the sign of the Dancing Pig.
Travec drew up his horse; at once a querulous question came from one of the black bloodstone globes at his ear: "Travec, why do you halt your horse?"
"Because the Inn of the Dancing Pig is close ahead."
"Surely that is a matter of no concern."
Not for the first time Travec reflected upon Murgen's hints that the effrits might not be the easiest of companions. During the whole of the journey, to while away the tedium, they had conversed in soft voices, creating an undertone of sound which Travec ignored to the best of his ability. Now he said: "Listen well! I am about to instruct you."
"That is unnecessary," said Voner. "Your instructions are beside the mark."
"How so?"
"Is it not clear? Murgen gave orders that we were to serve Shimrod. You name your name ‘Travec'. The disparity must be obvious, even to you."
Travec uttered a grim laugh. "One moment, if you please! ‘Travec' is merely a name-an item of verbiage. I am in every essential aspect Shimrod. You must serve me to your best capacity. If you make a single objection, I will complain to Murgen, who will then chastise you without mercy."
Skel spoke in unctuous tones: "All is explained. You need fear nothing; we are on full alert."
Voner said: "Still, if only for a review, list once again the contingencies against which we must guard."
"First, warn me of all imminent danger, including but not limited to ambush, poison in my wine, weapons pointed in my direction that are intended to injure or kill me; also rockslides, avalanches, pitfalls, snares, traps of all kinds, and any other sort of device or activity which might annoy, thwart, hurt, imprison, kill or debilitate me. In short, ensure my safety and good health. If you are at all doubtful as to my meaning, act always in the manner which will provide me the maximum satisfaction. Is that clear?"
Voner asked: "What of doses, or double, or triple-doses of aphrodisiac?"
"All such dosages will ultimately be to my detriment. They are included in the full category. If you have doubts, consult me."
"As you like."
"Second-"
"Is there more?"
Travec paid no heed. "Second, notify me when you sense the green fume of Xabiste. We will then try to locate the source and destroy the node."
"That is sensible enough."
"Third, do not reveal yourselves to the demons of Xabiste, or Dadgath, or elsewhere. They might flee before we are able to kill them."
"Just as you wish."
"Fourth, be on the lookout for the witch Desmei, in any of her phases. She might even use another name, but do not be confused! Report any suspicious circumstance at once."
"We will do our best"
Travec once more set his horse into motion, and proceeded along the road, while the effrits discussed the terms of Travec's instructions, which they seemed to find perplexing, so that Travec wondered if they had grasped the full sense of his requirements.
Travec, approaching the inn, discovered it to be a rather ramshackle structure, built of rough timber and roofed with thatch so old that grass grew from the straw. At one side was a shed where the landlord brewed his ale; at the back the inn joined into the barn. Beyond, three small children worked in an acreage planted to oats and pot-herbs. Travec turned into the yard, dismounted and tied his horse to a rail. Nearby two men sat on a bench: Izmael the Hun and Kegan the Celt, both of whom had watched Travec's arrival with keen interest.
Travec spoke to Izmael in his own language: "Well then, creature born of outrage: what do you here, so far from home?"
"Hoy, dog-eater! I attend to my own affairs."
"They may be mine as well, so treat me kindly, even though I have lopped the heads from a hundred of your kinsmen."
"What is done is done; after all, I raped your mother and all your sisters."
"And no doubt your own mother as well, on horseback." Travec nodded toward the other man on the bench. "Who is this gaunt shadow of a dead scorpion?"
"He calls himself Kegan; he is a Celt from Godelia. He would as soon cut your throat as spit."
Travec nodded and reverted to the language of the country. "I have been sent to meet a certain Cory of Falonges. Where is he to be found?"
"He has not yet arrived. We thought you might be Cory. What do you know of the venture?"
"I was assured of profit and danger, no more." Travec went into the inn, and found the landlord, who agreed to provide lodging, in the form of a straw pallet in the loft over the barn, which Travec accepted without enthusiasm. The landlord sent a boy to take care of the dun horse; Travec brought his bundle of belongings into the inn, and commanded a pint of ale from the landlord, which he took to a table by the wall.