In that — about the king seeing me — I flattered myself.
Everything was conducted in the chilling, efficient way of machine governments. The house to which I was conducted was not a villa, not a hovel. It was nowhere near the king’s palace. The king would not dirty his hands with the details of his desires. The man who told me what he wanted me to do was puffy and limp-fingered, with a green-swathed paunch, bloated eyes, and moustaches so long and thin and black I felt he could tie green ribbons in each side.
He did not condescend to tell me his name; he told me I might call him gernu, and if that was not sufficient, when I received my pay I might address him as Nodgen the Faithful. It did not take a genius to understand what these cramphs wanted.
I was to arrange to open the guardroom doors, to arrange to let the kidnappers in, and this time when we jammed the door we would stand guard with more spirit and at a proper time. Of course, this Nodgen the Faithful had no idea of what had happened to his party of kidnappers. I told him, simply, they had all been slain.
"Then this time it is your neck, Gadak. We know you, renegade. You will sell your ib for an ob." I might sell my soul for a penny — but not on Earth or Kregen.
"And young Genal the Freckles? Will you serve me as you served him after I open the door, as he did?"
"He was an onker. He would have talked."
"And I will not?"
He looked annoyed. I realized I had best not pursue that line too far, otherwise he would release me from the contract prematurely — with a free passage to the Ice Floes of Sicce. So I agreed. They had a lever.
"If you betray us, be very sure you will end up on the oar benches, pulling your guts out in a swifter, flogged. . you will not relish that, I assure you."
"How would you know?" I began to say. I did not add, as I would have done were I not meditating great, evil joy, "You fat slug!"
We agreed terms. Fifty golden oars. A large sum. I managed to get them to give me ten golden oars on account. No doubt they thought they would take them back from my dead body after I had opened the doors to them. Arrangements were made, the day was set, three days’ time, and I was taken away and left in the souk. It would be useless to return to the house. That was a mere convenient place to meet; the owners were probably bound and gagged in the cellars. I returned to Gafard’s Jade Palace. As I went in I glanced up at the Tower of True Contentment. I did not smile. But I thought of my Lady. Any man would do anything for the king to escape the galleys.
What was a mere slip of a girl besides my freedom to pursue my quest in the Eye of the World, to return to Delia?
Would not any sensible girl rejoice in the wealth and luxury the king would heap on her in return for her favors? The princess Susheeng was out of Magdag, visiting friends in Laggig-Laggu to the west. The king had a free hand. Would not any girl leap at the chance to become the king’s favorite, and use her wits to keep her head on her shoulders when he tired of her? Wouldn’t any beautiful girl of spirit leap at the chance?
I thought of the very real affection I knew existed between Gafard and the Lady of the Stars, an affection I fancied to be as true a love as any man and woman could be happy and fortunate enough to find on Kregen.
They loved each other. Whether or not Gafard deserved the love of so fine a lady I cared not. She wanted him. He might want her; that did not count. What she wanted mattered. The king must be an onker of onkers to imagine he could tame so free and fiery a spirit as hers!
Chapter Seventeen
I, Gadak the Renegade, spat juicily on my harness and laid into it with a will with the best polishing cloth. Tack and gear lay spread about on the old sturm-wood table. Others of the men in the loyal squadron likewise polished and spat, spat and polished. We all felt we needed to look smart when the hired kidnappers of the king came calling.
Gafard had smiled that smile of his that was nowhere ironic but all grinning leem-grin.
"So you come to me, Gadak, knowing the king very likely can send you to the galleys?"
"If that is to be Grodno’s will, that is to-"
"Aye, aye! And how do I know you have not made another bargain with the king’s man — this Nodgen the Faithful?" Here Gafard curled his fist in contempt. "The conceit of the rast. He gives himself a name that is an anagram of the king’s. Truly, he must he faithful, the cramph."
"I made the bargain I have told you of. I am to do as poor foolish Genal the Freckles did. To put poison in the wine of the guards and to open all doors."
Gafard’s fist made a circle in the air.
"And so ten of my best men are dead, poisoned, and Genal the onker is slain."
"And they will stand a better guard this time and it will be at the mid-time, when no guard changes take place."
As I spat and polished I thought of what Gafard had said, and I did not marvel that he had reached the position he had, Ghittawrer, King’s Striker, Sea-Zhantil. For he had produced a plan that should be foolproof — for a time.
In essence it was simple and brutal.
I was to do all that the fat cramph Nodgen the Faithful commanded. Except, I was not to poison the guards; they would feign sleep and death. But I was to open the doors and then stand well clear.
"You will have men hidden, to slay the black-masks?"
"No." He was enjoying himself. Had the stakes not been my Lady of the Stars, then I know for certain that Gafard would have enjoyed this game of stealth and wits with his king as much as Genod clearly did.
"Oh, no! A slave wench will be bought from the barracoon, privately, before she is put on show for all to see. A beautiful shishi. A Zairian captive, no doubt I shall treat her with great kindness. I shall call her my Lady of the Stars. She will think herself most fortunate to be thus chosen by the King’s Striker." I said, "And this girl will be taken by the king’s men?"
"Yes. If she holds firm to her story, and she is beautiful, the king will be happy. I do not hold it against him as a king, only as a man. He has the yrium, and what he does he does." So I spat and polished and thought on about my part in this.
I must report in to Nodgen that all was ready for the day.
If there was room for any pity in my bleak old heart I do not think I spilled over much for the girl slave bought from the barracoon and taken straight up into the Tower of True Contentment. If all went well she would be the king’s mistress. If she pleased him, who knew how high she might aim or what her influence might be? Certainly, she would be far better treated than in many of the dumps and dives she might have been bought into.
Of course, if she failed to act her part and the king flew into one of the tantrum rages of which he was so terribly capable she might be strangled out of hand. But then, that was a risk, the risk of death, that everyone runs.
Thinking these and other equally odiferous thoughts on the next day, I made my way to the appointed rendezvous, a wineshop in the Alley of a Thousand Bangles. The gewgaws tinkled in the breeze off the sea, bright and sparkling, cheap and cheerful, and there were many women admiring the bangles and bartering for their purchase. The wineshop lay in a curve of the souk and I waited outside. If there was to be double treachery, I wanted a space to run and swing a sword.