And the information, if he had it, would be a closely held secret.
Dumarest strolled from the opening, his face bland, a man who had seen all there was to see of any interest. As if by accident the gun fell from his pocket to clatter on the floor. He picked it up, turning it, bouncing it on his palm, conscious of the boy watching, the hunger in his eyes.
As he put the weapon out of sight Navalok blurted, "Earl, there is such a place. I know where more of these things are to be found."
Dumarest was deliberately obtuse. "A museum?"
"No. It's in the hills. I found it one day when my father took me out in a raft. I think he was looking for game. We landed and later I went exploring on the slope. I found a cave. The light was bad but I saw things like those." He gestured towards the objects littering the polished slab of the Shrine.
"And?"
"My father said it was an important discovery. He was going to report it but on the way back something went wrong. The raft crashed and he was killed and I-" He looked at his twisted foot. "I didn't say anything."
A child, hurt, bewildered, keeping the discovery to himself for reasons he couldn't have consciously known.
And now?
"I'll guide you if you promise to help me, Earl," he said in a rush. "If you'll teach me how to kill an olcept. If you'll help me to gain my trophy."
Dephine said, her voice edged with anger, "Earl, you're mad! Insane! The thing is ridiculous!"
He said nothing, watching as she paced the room with long strides, her hair a tumbled mane, her skin glistening with a moist warmth. She had just bathed and, as she walked, each step revealed the long, flowing line of her thighs through the slits in her robe.
"You can't do it, Earl!" She halted before him and he could smell the perfume she wore, the slightly sweet odor of decaying blooms. "You can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's dangerous, you fool, that's why. Men get killed hunting an olcept, women too, my own sister-well, never mind. But I don't want you hurt or killed, Earl. You mean too much to me for that."
He said, dryly, "Is that why you killed Galbrene?"
"Killed Galbrene?" She frowned. "I didn't kill him, Earl. He fell beneath your hands. Everyone saw it."
"They saw him fall," he corrected. "But I didn't kill him and we both know it. He was dazed when I made the final attack, dying where he stood. Didn't you think I could manage him?"
"Earl, you're wrong. I didn't touch him."
"Why bother to lie?"
"I'm not, Earl. I swear it!"
For a moment he held her eyes then his hands reached out, caught her own, lifted them so the gleaming nails pointed towards the ceiling. Beneath the curve of sharp metal on her right index finger he could see the tiny hole of a surgical implant; a narrow tube which had been buried in the flesh. The finger of her left hand held another. It spat a minute cloud of vapor as he squeezed the first joint, the nodule he discovered beneath the skin. On the ceiling a tiny dart hummed to vanish into the plaster.
An effective range of about ten feet, he decided, more if the target were unclothed. The dart would bury itself within the tissue by ultra-sonic vibration and be coated with a blood-soluble poison.
"An assassin's weapon," he said. "It goes well with the nails."
"One never used before, Earl. You can believe that."
"What difference if it has?"
"None." She rubbed at her hands then stared her defiance. "And what business of yours is it if I did? What I've done before we met is no concern of yours. As what you've done is no concern of mine. For me, Earl, life began when I met you. Real life, I mean, not the shallow searching for adventure that had gone before. I love you, Earl. Don't you understand that? I love you!"
"And you killed Galbrene to prove it?"
"I killed to save you and would do it again if I had to." Turning she swept across the room, knocking against a small table in her agitation, sending a delicate vase to shatter on the floor. "Galbrene had you. I thought he would break your back. The man was like an animal in his strength. Can you honestly say that you could have beaten him on level terms?" She didn't wait for an answer. "It was a chance I daren't take. You had moved close, were within range, all that remained was to make sure I hit the right one. Your attack covered his fall."
And protected her position. If nothing else Dumarest could appreciate the desire to survive which consumed her.
She shrugged as, dryly, he mentioned it.
"So I was thinking of myself a little too, Earl. Can I be blamed for that? You know what would have happened to me had you fallen. But you didn't fall and everything is fine now. So why are we arguing?" Her smile held invitation. "Surely there is something more entertaining we could do?"
The nails, the secret weapons, the smile, the turn of her hips and the sidelong glance, the allure she knew so well how to project. All the hallmarks of the accomplished courtesan and yet, as she had reminded him, what had her past to do with the present?
And, as she had also pointed out, who was he to judge? "Earl!"
She was close to him, the robe open now, the parting revealing the long, lissom lines of her body, the contours of which he knew so well. Why not just accept her as she was, to ride the tide of seductive passion to whatever shore might be waiting? "Earl?"
He smiled at her frown and gently reached up to touch the crease between her eyes, smoothing it away with the tips of his fingers.
"Are you going to help me get a raft, Dephine?"
"No! Ask Hendaza."
"I have. He referred me to Kanjuk who, quite politely, referred me to you." Dumarest kept his voice casual. "A matter of traditional privilege, I understand. When I return with a trophy things will be different."
"Earl! No!"
"A small one." His smile widened a little. "The size won't matter. But once I have it I won't have to beg for favors. And," he added, "I won't have to risk being shot for insulting a superior."
"Lekhard?" She glanced to where the man's gun lay on a table. "He never gave you that to simply look at, Earl. There's been trouble between you, hasn't there?" She frowned again as he remained silent. "I don't trust that man. He's dangerous."
"Jealous would be a better word. Is he in love with you?"
"Love?" Her shrug was expressive. "Call it greed, the desire to possess, to own. He wants to prove himself a better man than you are by taking something you own. A fool, but others share his folly. Too many of them are eager to best you in the arena and in bed." She looked thoughtfully at the gun. "Maybe if you carried one of those they would think twice. You're right, Earl, you need a trophy. But you don't have to get it the hard way."
"No," he said. "That's why I need to go into town."
"To buy a gun?" She smiled with quick understanding. "Get it from the trading store run by the Hausi. It's close to the field." Slipping a ring from her finger she handed it to him. "This should fetch enough to buy what you need. I'll authorize the raft, but what of the driver?"
"I can handle it."
"But you'll have to take someone with you."
"I will," he said. "Navalok."
The town was small, a collection of low buildings, a tavern, a hotel for those held on business, the usual warehouses holding goods waiting shipment. The trading store was a large building containing an open room backed by a counter. Leaving the boy in charge of the raft Dumarest went inside.
"Welcome." Telk Yamamaten came forward from an inner room, his eyes shrewd beneath heavy brows. His skin, a dark chocolate, was scarred with the markings of his Guild. "How may I help you?"
Dumarest placed the jewelry he had won on the counter.
"You wish to sell?" The Hausi grunted as he stirred the heap with the tip of a finger. "This is cheap stuff. Flawed gems and coated base-metal. From Galbrene?"
"You know?"