“Hm,” said Peters. “I suppose I see how that might be the case… certain elements seem to be lacking, such as the sword-swinging escape, leaving spear-carriers scattered like so much chaff.”
Dzheenis smiled and fingered his jaw. “Here we enter the realm of more modern traditions,” he commented. “Some considerable time ago, but not in antiquity, there arose a thinker called Chazis Mar. He opined that the ferassi would find greater prosperity in trade and equable relations than in raid and rapine, and such were his powers of persuasion that the ferassi accepted his doctrines and put them into effect.”
“Except for the dar ptith”, Khurs interjected. “The epa’ol of the dar rejected those teachings, and maintain the customs and practices of earlier eras.”
“Yes… Chazis Mar also decreed that girls should be taught to speak, read, and write, and that the best should be preserved past their first maturity; this policy was adopted as well.”
“Yes.” Peters leaned back again in the deep cushions. “It’s still not clear how this is applicable to my case.”
“No?” Dzheenis grinned. “I will be specific, then. In addition to having performed a feat of deceit, daring, and general derring-do of a magnitude not seen outside the covers of a book for squares of uzul, you have managed to do so entirely within the precepts of Chazis Mar!”
“Consider,” Khurs interjected, and began ticking off points again. “You refrained from taking the life of Fredik Fers, even though you had extreme provocation. The story that mesmerized the ferassi contained nothing but limpid truth; you even admitted your relatively low status instead of indulging in vainglory. You selected adult girls instead of dipping into the tuwe, and seduced them with nothing more than your own attributes and force of personality. During your escape you were presented once again with the opportunity of taking life; once again you demurred, giving Chester Zin nothing worse than a sore head and a hearty shove to safety—”
Peters held up a hand. “You refer to the guard on the smallcraft deck? I assure you, I was seeking nothing but my own safety at that moment.”
“Would it not have been more prudent to simply shoot him? If he had succeeded in giving the alarm your escape might have come to a rapid and sad conclusion at that point.”
“Perhaps so,” Peters admitted.
She nodded. “Just so. To continue: You gave your pursuers ample opportunity to withdraw; when they scorned that option, you held your fire well past the point of prudence, launching your blow only when faced with the stark choice of kill or die. The blow itself was clean and decisive, and you did not remain to boast or gloat, nor did you seek retribution.” She faced him with a broad grin over the fingers she had folded down. “Throughout the episode you made repeated offers of amity and cooperation, which were contemptuously pushed aside. Really I hadn’t thought it all through myself. My admiration is rekindled; your only omission was that you failed to take with you a number of Grallt to serve you in your new establishment.”
“Hmph,” said Peters. “The events you describe scarcely seem related to the ones I experienced. What I recall is pain, fear, and desperate improvisation.”
Dzheenis pinched his lower lip again. “That detracts not a whit from the tale,” he said judiciously. “If anything it adds. To keep ‘desperate improvisation’ so far within the bounds of civilized custom is remarkable in and of itself.”
“Hmph,” Peters grunted again. “So you would expect that this missive—” he indicated the note “—contains offers of amity and cooperation?”
“I know what it contains,” Khurs declared. “I helped draft it. Would you like me to read it to you?”
“I would appreciate it, if you would be so kind.”
She nodded. “‘You may order your lives without reference to the wishes of others, unless you yourself grant those wishes power,’” she quoted. “I am not under direction; nevertheless I choose to grant your request, of my own will. Are these the proper terms of reference?”
“They are, and I thank you.”
“Defer your thanks until I have finished.” She picked up the note, glanced at it for a moment, and began to read in her strong clear baritone:
“Depa’olze Peters—”
“Disgraceful,” Dzheenis muttered. “He omits the honor-syllable from your name.”
Peters shook his head. “I take pride in being so addressed, but it is an innovation of the Grallt of Llapaaloapalla. He has my name correct in its original form.”
“Now shush,” Khurs admonished. Dzheenis subsided, and the girl began again:
“Depa’olze Peters,
I send you greetings and felicitations, along with wishes for an extended and prosperous existence. Your exploits among us have been remarkable, both in themselves and in the clever, even artful way you have blended the old and the new to induce our admiration and excite our imaginations.
You have taken nothing from us but the most rare and precious, beyond a few trifles of incidental equipment. I feel secure in assuming that those trophies, together with your own formidable resources, will assure your continued and ultimate success. In aid of that, however insignificant that aid may be, I present you with the two before you.
They are called by us Dzheenis and Khurs. Dzheenis is a male of proven vigor, and a supercargo and accountant of great skill and precision. Khurs is a scribe of notable accomplishments, fluent in three tongues of the kree and capable in two others, as well as glib and precise in Language and the trade speech. Unless maltreated they cannot fail to add luster to what is already an establishment of considerable brilliance.
Again, felicitations and best wishes. I hope to encounter you in person at some time in the future, under amiable conditions.
Peters started to comment, but she held up a hand. “Wait, please. He has added a postscript which was not part of the document I drafted.” She scanned, colored, and began again to read aloud:
“The girl Khurs is also a purveyor of sexual gratification of unique competence: warm, clever, inventive, and compliant, besides being an amiable companion in the intervals. If your taste includes such sport, you will not find her wanting in any way. And Luter sends her regards, along with wistful regrets that you were unable to take her along. For my own part I cannot regret the latter. I treasure her companionship more than may be entirely reasonable, and am glad she remains with me.
She looked over the top of the note, her face a bright-pink mixture of embarrassment, dread and—regret? “Does your taste include such sport, ze Peteris?” she asked.
“I have indulged in such ‘sport’, and believe I gave satisfaction as well as receiving it, although no male can ever achieve certainty in that regard.” He held her eyes. “Two factors intrude: first, I strongly prefer not to indulge in ‘sport’ unless I believe the female to be at least equally so inclined; and second, my appetites are fully satiated, and my physical prowess might be considered oversubscribed, by the arrangement I find myself in.”
“You don’t find me desirable?”
“I didn’t say that.” He grinned. “My first thought upon seeing you was ‘deliciously pretty’, and I have not changed that assessment. Under proper conditions I would certainly make the proposal, in hope and anticipation.”
In the gathering twilight he could no longer make out the color of her face, but she grimaced, then smiled a little wanly. “You are complimentary.” She looked down, then met his eyes again. “In a way it is something of a pity. Candor Zin is—was—kind and considerate, and taught me much in what he calls the ‘intervals’; I looked forward to the occasions with pleased anticipation. I suppose I was entertaining the hope that you would accept my services in that regard, as well as my person.”