"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"I am sure," he said, "that this whole business is founded on some mistake, that it can be rectified, but the orders are clear. But I will need time."
"What are you going to to?" I asked.
"I shall send a report to the Sardar tomorrow," he said, "dated tomorrow. I shall inform the Sardar that I am unable to carry out their orders for I am unable to loacte you, that you have apparently left the city."
"I see," I said.
"In the meantime," he said, "I shall press for further clarifications, and a full inquiry into the matter, detailed explanations, and so on. I shall attempt to get to the bottom of things. Some terrible mistake must surely be involved."
"What are the charges?" I asked.
"That you have betrayed the cause of Priest-Kings," he said.
"How can I have betrayed their cause?" I asked. "I am not really an agent of Priest-Kings. I have never pledged a sword to them, never sworn a fidelity oath in their behalf. I am my own men, a mercenary of sorts, one who has, upon occasion, as it pleased him, labored in their behalf."
"It may be no easier to withdraw from the service of Priest-Kings than from that of Kurii," said Samos.
"In what way have I frustrated or jeopardized their cause?" I asked. "How have I supposedly subjected them to the insidiousness of betrayal?"
"You saved the life of Zarendargar, War General of the Kurii, in the Barrens," said Samos.
"Perhaps," I said. "I am not really sure of it."
"That was your avowedc intention, was it not, in entering the Barrens?" asked Samos.
"Yes," I said. "I wished to warn h im of the Death Squad searching him out. ON the other hand, as it turned out, he anticipated the arrival of such a group. He might have survived anyway. I do not know."
"Also, as I understand it," said Samos, "you had dealings with him in the Barrens, and ample opportunity there to attemp to capture or kill him."
"I suppose so," I admitted.
"But you did not do so," said Samos.
"That is true," I said.
"Why not?" asked Samos.
"Once we shared paga," I said.
"Is that what I am to tell the Sardar?" asked Samos, ironically.
"I see your point," I said.
"The Sarder, by now," said Samos, "probably views you as an agent of one of the parties of Kurii, and as a traitor, and one who probably knows too much."
"Perhaps I should turn myself in," I smiled.
"I do not think I would recommend that," smiled Samos. "Rather I think you should conveniently disappear from Port Kar for a time, until I manage to resolve these confusion and ambiguities."
"Where shall I go?" I asked.
"I do not want to know," said Samos.
"Do you think you will be successful in straightening this matter out?" I asked.
"I hope so," he said.
"I do not think you will be successful," I said. "I think the Sardar has already acted."
"I do not understand," said Samos.
"You received the first message some ten days ago," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"I expect its terminology, and such, was clear," I speculated.
Samos shrugged. "I suppose so," he said.
"You may have endangerd yourself by your delaying," I said.
"How is that?" asked Samos.
"The Sarder transmits a clear message," I said. "Instead of an acknowledgement and compliance report it recieves a request for clarification or confirmation, and that from an agent of high intelligence an dproven efficiency. This informed the Sardar that you were reluctant to carry out the orders. Furthermore, our friendship is not unknown, I am sure, to the Sardar. It is not difficult to conjecture the nature of the response in the Sardar. Presumably it has been decided that oyu are not to be relied upon in this matter. Indeed, you yourself, in virtue of your reswponse, may now be suspect to them."
"I recieved the confirmation yesterday," said Samos, lamely.
"That may have been to conceal from you any apprehensions existing in the Sardar as to your loyalty."
"Perhaps," he whispered.
"In any event the delay between the messages has given independent agents of Priest-Kings time to arrive in Port Kar. It may also have been noted that you did not act immediately upon the receipt of the confirmation."
"What are you saying?" asked Samos, agast.
"I think I have an explanation which makes sense of this little arrair in the booth," I said.
"No!" said Samos.
I looked down at the fellow in the rich robes, the knife protruding from his chest.
"I think I have just killed an agent of Priest-Kings," I said.
"No!" said Samos.
I shrugged. We could hear the sounds of carnival outside.
"If anyone," said Samos, "Kurii must have sent him."
"Perhaps," I said.
"Priest-Kings would not behave in such a way," said Samos.
"Perhaps," I said.
"Leave the city," he said.
"In his wallet were staters of Brundisium," I said. "Do you know anything about Brundisium, anything having to do with either Priest-King or Kurii?"
"No," said Samos.
"Then the Brundisium staters are probably meaningless," I said.
"I would suppose so," said Samos. "They are, of course, a valuable stater. There would be noting incredible about thier use being specified in a given transaction."
"Why not coinage of Ar," I asked, "or that of Port Kar, or of Asperiche, or Tharna, or Tyros, or Schendi, or Turia?"
"I do not know," said Samos.
"How will I know if it is safe to return to Port Kar?" I asked.
"From time to time," said Samos, "presumably you youself, incognito, or an agent acting on your behalf, might be in the city. Do you know the slave chains I have hanging behind the banner on the banner bar to the left of my threshold, where the bar meets the wall, those that have tied there with them a bit of scarlet slave silk?"
"Yes," I said.
"When it is safe for you to again appear publicly in Port Kar, when it is safe for you to again make contact with me, the scarlet slave silk will be replaced with yellow."
"I understand," I said.
"I wish you well," he said. We clapsed hands.
"I wish you well," I said.
Samos then withdrew from the booth. I remained inside for a few Ehn. It would not be well for him to be seen with me at this time. I looked at the man on the rug, that flooring the booth spread over the tiels of the piazza, he in whose heart I had left his own knife. I recalled the tale of Yngvar, the Far-Traveled. There was a new order, I surmised, in the Sardar. I did not regret what I had done in the case of Zarendargar. Once we had shared paga.
"I listened to the merriment of the revelers outside, to the cires, the horns and music.
I must leave Port Kar tonight. I would go to my holding; I would make arrangements; I would obtain weapons, moneys, letters of credit. I could be gone in two Ahn, on tarnback, before Priest-Kings discovered the failure of their plans.
I looked back at the samll, lovely redheaded slave bound hand and foot on the large cushion, the wallet filled with teh staters of Brundisium tied at her collar. Throughout all that had transpired in the booth she had not regained consciousness. Tassa powder is efficient.
I then left the booth. In a moment I was again making my way through the crowds of carnival.
I was bitter.
I would take no men with me. I had no wish to endanger them, nor to involve them in the dark matters of warring worlds. Too, the best guarantee of the safety of Samos, ti seemed to me, was my departure from the city. He was my friend. He had risked much fo rme. I could be gone in two Ahn, on tarnback, before Priest-Kings discovered the failure of their plans.
"Paga?" inquired a fellow.
"Of course," I said. It was carnival.
We exchanged swigs, I from his bota, he from mine. Then he turned aside, to offer paga to another. I stepped back, while one of the gigantic fellows, on stilts, stalked by. I was jostled. I checked my wallet. It was intact.