"Let us not fight," said the fellow who had just drawn his blade. "I am with you! There is enough loot for two."
I now revised my estimate of the intelligence of the fellow who had struck down the leader. It seemed reasonably clear, from the voice and attitude of the fellow who had just drawn his weapon, that he was clearly alarmed. I did not think he was acting in this matter. At any rate it seemed to me that his fear was genuine.
"Sheath your sword," said the fellow who had struck the leader.
"Sheath yours," invited he who had been with the leader.
It was now my assessment of the situation that he who had struck the leader had been confident of his capacity to deal with the other fellow. It was thus, apparently, that he had been willing to postpone, for a moment or so, at least, his decision as to how to deal with him. He was now, it seemed, considering it.
"Let us not quarrel," urged the fellow who had been the confidant of the leader. "There may be sleen about."
The first fellow, scarcely taking his eyes off the other, glanced uneasily about. He could not see me, as I stood back in the darkness. Both were within the cast of a quiva. I turned the blade in my hand.
"Put away your sword," urged the fellow who had been the confidant of the leader.
"I do not trust you," said the other.
"Let us not fight," said the fellow who had been with the leader. "There is little enough her to justify our war."
"There is enough," said the fellow who had struck the leader. I saw that his decision had now been made.
"It is enough for two!" said he who had been with the leader.
"It will be more for one," said he who had struck the leader. "What is wrong?"
The fellow facing him had suddenly stiffened, drawing his shoulders close together. Then his hand fell, lowering the blade. He stumbled forward a step. The other, he who had struck the leader, tensed, his sword poised to fen any possible blow. Then the other, he who had been the confidant of the leader, pitched forward, falling near the fire. The girls, salves, kneeling, still bound helplessly, naked, their small hands jerking at the cords holding their wrists tight to their belly, screamed. Men, too, bound, cried out. From the fellow's back there protruded the handle of a knife, the hilt of a particular sort to knife, that of a saddle knife, that of the sort common in the lands of the Wagon Peoples, that commonly known as a "quiva." I had not thrown it hard enough, intentionally, to bring the point fully through the body. It is not necessary. The cast, as recommended, had been easy and smooth. The quiva itself, in its sharpness and weight, does the work. I turned another blade in my hand.
The fellow leaped backward from the fire. Perhaps, after all, he was not as intelligent as I had supposed. he had not destroyed the fire. He had only retreated from it. I could still see him. Understandably, of course, he was unwilling to flee headlong, blindly, from the camp, into an unknown, unexplored darkness, one in which the number and position of enemies was unknown.
"Who is there?" he cried.
Only the night noises of the nearby woods answered him.
"If you are magistrates," he cried, "know that I have come on this camp of brigands and, in cognizance of my jeopardy, was making ready to defend myself!" he looked about, wildly, drawing back another pace or so. "show yourself," he cried, "as befits your office, that of those who courageously do war with brigands, that of those who do nobly defend and support the law, or as plain honest men, if that you be, that I may ally myself with you, that we may then offer to one another, no, then pledge to one another, mutual protection and succor on these dark and dangerous roads."
It was very quiet, save mostly for the rustling and clicking of insects. Too I heard, intermittently, from somewhere far off, the cries of a tiny, horned gim.
"You do not show yourselves," called the man. "Good! Know then that I am a brigand, too! I feared you might be magistrates. It was thus that I spoke as I did. A falling out occurred here in which I was forced to defend myself. I am Abdar, who was of the band of Ho-Dan. Perhaps you have heard of me. I am wanted in five cities. Approach. Though the loot here is meager I am pleased to share it with you, or, if you wish, surrender it to you, as a token of my good faith. Consider the females, if you can see them. Both, I am sure, you would find acceptable as slaves. If you desire them, I give them to you. Show yourselves! Let us enmesh our destinies. I desire to enleague myself with you. Who are you! Show yourselves!"
I did not respond to him. I measured the distance between us.
"Are you still there?" he cried. "Are you still there?"
The, suddenly, with a cry of misery, the fellow spun about and broke into a run. I took one step and released the blade. he grunted and fell forward, sprawling to the dirt, and then lay on his stomach, a few feet from the fire. he rose to his knees and crawled a pace or two, and then again sank to his stomach. Then he lifted his upper body and head, and then fell forward again. he squirmed. He tried, vainly, clutching with his hand behind him, to reach the blade in his back. He could not do so. Then he shuddered and lay still.
I came forward and regarded the body. I removed the knife from it, cleaning it on his tunic. Then I resheathed the blade, in one of the seven sheaths sewn on the common, supple leather backing, slung now from its shoulder strap, at and about my left hip. Someone, as it had turned out, had been still there.
"You!" cried Boots Tarsk-Bit.
I regarded the two slaves. They knew that they were now being scrutinized as females, basically and radically. It is a fundamental sort of inspection. The girl must hope that she passes it. They straightened their bodies. They did not dare to meet my eyes. It is important for slaves to be pleasing. Their lives depend on it.
I looked at Boots. He swallowed, hard.
I then crouched down near him. I began to free his arms, where they were bound to his body. His sigh of relief was audible.
"Where are the other brigands?" he asked.
I freed his arms. "They are here and there," I said. "Do not fear. They are all accounted for."
"How many are with you?" he asked.
"I am alone," I said.
"By yourself you did this?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Where did you learn to throw a knife like that?" he asked.
"In the south," I said, "far in the south."
"You have saved our lives," he said. "Those rascals, I fear, had no intent to spare us."
"Except the slaves," I said.
"Of course," he said. They, after all, were usable, beautiful, salable animals.
We then began to free the others, all but the slaves.
"We are grateful," Boots assured me.
"Thank you," said the player, surily, begrudgingly, as I freed his hand from behind his back. he then bent quickly, angrily, to untie the ropes on his ankles.
"Do not mind him," said Boots. "He is a puzzling chap. He would probably have preferred to have had his throat cut."
"But you are grateful?" I said to Boots.
"Yes," he said. "I am grateful."
"Eternally, undyingly?" I asked Boots, smiling.
"Of course," he said. "Eternally, undyingly!"
"I think I may be of further service to you," I said.
"How is that?" asked Boots, interested. We finished untying Chino, Lecchio, Petrucchio and Publius Andronicus. We left the girls, for the time, of course, as they were, as they were slaves. They would await our pleasure, that of free men.
"Come with me," I said. "And bring a torch."
"What is it?" asked Boots.
"It is something I would like to show you," I said. "I found it nearby in the woods, when I returned to my camp, to fetch weapons, a few Ehn ago."
"What is it?" he asked.