I shuddered. I did not understand what had happened. I did not like what had happened.
I looked to the slave. I turned her to her belly on the cushion, putting her head to the side. I was disturbed, shaken and tense. I untied her ankles. Too, I had made a kill. I must calm myself. It is one of the things women are for. She whimpered, pounded, her small hands twisting in the tight leather thongs. I then tied her ankles together again, and then, this time, fastened her wrists to her ankles. I then tied the wallet, filled with the golden staters of Brundisium, about her collar. That would give Vart some consolation, I suspected, for the scandal he would find in his booth.
"Tarl," I heard, a voice speaking softly, outside the curtain. It was the voice of Samos.
"Enter," I said.
"I have been looking all over for you," he said. "I saw Henrius. He suggested you might be here." Samos' eyes opened widely. "What is going on here?" he asked. "Who is that?"
"Do you know him?" I asked.
"No," said Samos, examining the body.
"He tried to kill me," I said.
"Why?" he asked. "The slave?"
"No," I said. "I think perhaps robbery."
"His robes seem rich," said Samos.
"In his wallet were several staters, of gold, from Brundisium," I said.
"That is a valuable stater," said Samos. "It has good weight."
"He knew I was carrying gold," I said. "I had given evidence of this in rewarding a magician in the carnival."
"Even so," said Samos, "it would seem, from what you say, that he stood in no need of money."
"I do not think so," I said. "Yet robbery seems the only likely explanation."
"I do not know," said Samos. "Perhaps you are right."
"You sound doubtful," I observed.
"Thieves, my friend," said Samos, "seldom carry gold on their persons."
"Perhaps he had stolen it this evening," I said.
"No soncdierable therft has been reported this evening," said Samos, "as far as I know. It was not in the recent reports of the guards."
"Perhaps he slew the individual from whom he stole the coins and then thrust the body into a canal," I suggested.
"Perhaps," said Samos. "But his mode of garb does not suggest that of the elusive, quick-moving thief."
"It might make it easier to approach a victim," I suggested.
"Perhaps," said Samos.
"Too, robes would make it easier to get a knife through the check points at carnival," I said.
"Perhaps," said Samos.
"You do not seem convinced," I said.
"I am not," said Samos.
"This booth is closed," I said. "I gather that you did not rent it and close it."
"No," said Samos.
"Henrius," I said, "told me that someone wished to see me here."
"Was that before this fellow saw you throw gold to the magician?" asked Samos.
"No," I said. "Afterwards."
"Perhaps that is the explanation, then," said Samos.
"I do not think so," I said. "It was really not very long after I left the magician's platform that I saw Henrius. I do not think it likely that the arrangement could have been made that quickly. Too, Henrius, as I recall, did not speak as though he had just been contacted."
"He did not deny it, either, di he?" asked Samos.
"No," I said. "But if the fellow was a stranger, a common thief, how would he be likley to know my name, or of any connection between myself and Henrius, or others?"
"That is true," said Samos.
"The booth, too, presumably would have to be rented, and the slave drugged," I said.
"I see," said Samos. "It seems likely then, if he is a common thief, that he would have merely followed you here, and is not the fellow who spoke to Henrius, or who would be connected with the booth in some way."
"Yes," I said. "but then who would have rented the booth, who would have wanted to see me here?"
"What have we there?" asked Samos, gesturing to the girl, bound hand and foot on the cushion, the wallet tied at her dollar.
"A drugged slave," I said.
"Was she unconscious when you entered the booth?"
"Yes," I said.
"Then she probably would not be able to give helpful witness," he said.
"She might know who drugged her," I said.
"Presumbably she would only know that it was some fellow in a mast," said Samos. "Too, it may bery well have been done to her by her master, Vart, whose booth this is, he doing this under instructions."
"We could contact Vart," I said.
"The fellow to whom he rented the booth would presumably have been masked," said Samos. "It is, after all, carnival time. I doubt that Vart would be able to help us. Besides he is not noted, anyway, for his excessive concern for scrupulosity in his business dealings."
"What, then, do you think?" I asked.
"The signs, it seems to me," said Samos, "suggest a calculated ambush and one in which your friend here was probably implicated."
"I agree," I said. "You are thinking, then, in terms of a carefully planned robbery?"
"Not really," said Samos. "All things considered, such as the coins in his wallet, robbery sems to me, at least, to be a very unlikely motive for this attack."
"What could have been the possible motivation then?" I asked.
"I do no know," he said. "Who do you know who might wish to hav this done?" he asked.
"I do not know," I said. "What did you wish to see me about?"
His face clouded.
"You wish to speak to me," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"Let us leave the booth," I suggested.
"No," he said. "Not now. I must speak to you privately in any case. This place is as good as any. Then we will leave the booth separately. It would not be good for us to be seen together at this time."
"Why not?" I asked.
"I fear spies," he said.
"The spies of Kurii?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"Of whom, then?" I asked, puzzled.
"Of Priest-Kings," he said.
"I do not understand," I said, puzzled.
"I think there is a new order in the Sardar," he said. "I suspect it."
"That is possible," I granted him. I remembered the tale of Yngvar the Far-Traveled.
"Twice, rather recently, I have heard from the Sardar," he said, "once some ten days ago, and once yesterday."
"What is the import of these messages?" I inquired.
"They pertain to the arrest and detention of one who is reputed to be an enemy of Priest-Kings."
"Who is he?" I inquired. "Perhaps I can be of assistance in his apprehension."
"His name," said Samos, "is Tarl Cabot."
"That is absurd!" I said.
"When the first message arrived, some day ago, I was certain there was some grievous error involved. I sent back to the Sarder for confirmation, if only to buy time."
"It is no wonder you were so uneasy when I ws in your holding," I said.
"I wanted to speak to you," he said, "but did not know if I should do so. I thought it best, finally, not to do so. If the whole thing turned out to be a mistake, as I was sure it would, we could then, at a later date, no harm done, have a fine laugh over the matter."
"But yesterday," I said, "the confirmation arrived."
"Yes," he said, "and the terms of the orders are unmistakable."
"What are you going to do?" I asked. "I am unarmed. Doubtless you have men outside."
"Do not be silly," he said. "We are friends and we have stood together with blades before enemies. I would betray Priest-Kings before I owuld betray you."
"You are a brave man," I said, "to risk the wrath of Priest-Kings."
"The most they can take is my life," he said, "and if I were to lose my honor, even that would be worthless."