This sort of thing is not unprecedented, when champions present themselves before generals, Ubars, and such. It is a way of proving skill, and their worthiness to replace lesser men. I have much frowned upon this. That one can kill is impressive, but seems to me to provide little assurance that one possesses properties of perhaps even greater importance to a leader, such as reliability, discipline, judgment, and fidelity.
“How can his sword be of great value,” I asked, “if it has cost you six men?”
“Is such a sword not worth six men?” asked Lord Nishida.
“No,” I said.
“Are you not of the Warriors?” inquired Lord Nishida.
“That is why,” I said.
“He has taken fee with Lord Okimoto,” said Lord Nishida.
“Lord Okimoto has made a serious mistake,” I said.
“Lord Okimoto,” said Lord Nishida, “is cousin to the shogun.”
“What is the name of this recruit?” I asked.
“Rutilius, of Ar,” said Lord Nishida.
“Not Anbar, of Ar?” I said.
“No,” said Lord Nishida.
“May I meet this recruit?” I inquired.
“I have arranged it so,” said Lord Nishida, and lifted his hand, and the wide, blue sleeve fell back from his wrist, as he signaled a group of men who were on the foredeck, below the stem castle.
One of the group, whose back had been to us, turned about, and approached, with a confident tread, and paused before us.
“Tal, Captain,” said he to me.
“You know one another?” asked Lord Nishida.
“We have met,” I said. “His name is not Rutilius, of Ar. He is Seremides, formerly captain of the Taurentians, the palace guard, in the time of the false Ubara, Talena, of Ar.”
“Many of our mercenaries,” said Lord Nishida, “have chosen names for convenience, to distance themselves from records of crime and blood, to elude pursuers, to escape justice, to begin new lives, such things.”
“He is Seremides,” I said, again, “formerly captain of the Taurentians, the palace guard, in the time of the false Ubara, Talena, of Ar.”
It was important to me that Lord Nishida clearly understood this.
This was no ordinary recruit.
More was involved here than bladecraft. Much was involved here which might well give a leader pause. Not only the skill with which a blade might be used was relevant. Surely important, as well, were the uses to which it might be put. In such a case one should extend fee only with circumspection.
“It is clear then,” said Lord Nishida, “why he might seek a different, safer name for himself, as doubtless many others with us, who were driven from Ar, either as former members of the party of the Ubara, or of the occupational forces.”
Seremides bowed his head, briefly, appreciatively.
“And,” said Lord Nishida, “should we not account ourselves fortunate to be successors to the skills of one who commanded such a guard?”
“Doubtless,” I said.
“And one supposes,” said Lord Nishida, “that one did not come easily to the captaincy of a palace guard.”
“Undoubtedly not,” I said.
“And thus his skills with the blade are less surprising.”
“Doubtless,” I said. Lord Nishida was certainly correct in suspecting that one who could rise to such a position would be wise with bladecraft. On the other hand, I had little doubt that such an elevation would not be bought by steel alone. One would expect, as well, cunning, astuteness, a will of implacable force, and, I supposed, given the nature of the traitorous party, remorseless ambition, and a useful lack of inhibitive scruples.
“We are greatly honored,” said Lord Nishida, “that so high a personage, drawn from so remarkable a background, whose sword might purchase gold in a dozen cities, would present himself for our service.”
Seremides inclined his head, briefly, acknowledging this compliment.
“He betrayed a Home Stone,” I said. “He is a traitor. Do you expect more from him than those he betrayed?”
“I do not understand the matter of the Home Stone,” said Lord Nishida, “though I have heard of such things. But I think we may suppose that Rutilius of Ar will act in his best interests, as he sees them, and that he will understand that his best interests are identical with ours, and more than this what can one expect?”
“Much,” I said.
“I fear, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Lord Nishida, “you do not know men.”
“I am a simple warrior,” I said. “I have never pretended to cultivate the subtleties of diplomacy nor to comprehend the wisdoms of politics.”
“I fear,” said Lord Nishida, “that you will never sit upon the mat of the shogun nor upon the throne of the Ubar.”
“Not every man desires such things,” I said.
“I see,” said Lord Nishida. “Your business is a less ambitious, simpler one. It would be with the blade, and little more. The vocation of such as you is circumscribed narrowly, confined, so to speak, to a limited board.”
“Perhaps,” I said.
“Having to do with the kaissa of blood, the dark game.”
“If you wish,” I said.
The codes, of course, did not see things in this fashion. The board was set indeed, but amongst cities, always on a world. Its width was the width of worlds. The number and values of the pieces was uncertain, and the rules subject to convenient revision, or desuetude.
It is useful that the foe has rules. This puts him at your mercy.
Yet there was a hunt, a sport involved. All who have carried weapons are aware of this. Surely Lord Nishida was apprised of, and not unfamiliar with, scarlet allurements.
The fires of life burn brightly at the edge of death.
Few are the states which have not been born in blood.
“Lord Okimoto,” said Lord Nishida, “desires that you accept our friend, Rutilius, of Ar, in the cavalry.”
“I decline,” I said.
“It is the wish of Lord Okimoto,” said Lord Nishida.
“I do not accept him,” I said.
“Lord Okimoto is cousin to the shogun,” said Lord Nishida.
“I do not accept him,” I said.
I then drew my sword, and, smoothly, like the lifted head of an ost, so, too, did the blade of Seremides, as noiselessly as the menace of that venomous creature, leave its sheath.
“Hold!” said Lord Nishida. “He has killed six men.”
“Let him try a seventh,” I said.
“No,” said Lord Nishida, “whatever the outcome seven men are lost.”
I half sheathed my blade, watching Seremides from the side. He smiled, but did not move. He had not taken the bait. He had more in mind, I gathered, than another kill. Too, he understood the game. Lord Nishida smiled, too. He, too, understood what had occurred. Perhaps he thought that I was foolish to utilize so transparent a lure, but I had learned what I wanted. I had not expected Seremides to attack, but I had learned what I wanted, that he knew the game, that he was no fool, and that he would be extremely dangerous, patient and dangerous, not only if he were interested in me, but dangerous, too, to whoever or whatever might brook his ambition or projects. It seemed, given his rage and disappointment over the fruitlessness of our nocturnal interview, and the consequent collapse of his hope to secure a fugitive Talena, and thereby obtain both riches and a pardon, that he had had to reconcile himself to flight from known Gor and had accordingly sought both fee and refuge with the Pani. I hoped that Lords Okimoto and Nishida understood the nature of their new sword. I feared they did not.
“He is not with the cavalry,” I said.
“Very well,” said Lord Nishida. “His place then will be with the guard of Lord Okimoto.”