On the evening of the fourth day, they rode into Kubyab. As they ambled down the unpaved main street, Reith remarked: "I take back any nasty things I said about Jeshang. Compared to this godforsaken place, Jeshang is a metropolis!" He hailed a belated pedestrian. "Good my sir, can you direct us to an inn?"
The Krishnan looked around, warily studied the strangers, and answered; but his local dialect was spoken too fast for Reith to follow.
"Slowly, I pray!" said Reith.
At last the Krishnan made Reith understand that there was no such thing as an inn in Kubyab. Reith then asked: 'Then where can travelers pass the night?"
"I can put you up in my house," said the local, "for a price."
"How much?"
The Krishnan hesitated, then said: "Half a kard for each, and another half-kard for stabling and feeding your beasts."
Marot began in English: "That seems reason—" but Reith cut him off saying: "Too much for a pair of poor travelers. Make it a kard total, including the beasts."
The Krishnan paused, then said: "Be ye not Ertsuma? We see few hereabouts."
"Yes, we're Terrans. How about the price?"
"Everyone knows that Terrans are richer than Dakhaq. So why would a pair of great, rich lords like you be stingy with a poor countryman like me?"
"Because you wrongly think Terrans have bottomless purses and therefore quote us far above the customary rate. I'll tell you: Make it a kard total, and my friend and I will answer all your questions about our own far-off world."
"That be a canny offer. I'll take it, fair sirs. Come hither, pray."
The house proved a two-room shack. The Krishnan introduced a slatternly wife and three dirty children. He indicated that the guests should have the only bed in the house; he and his family would sleep on the floor in the other room.
When they were alone, Marot asked: "Why did you screw that half-kard out of the poor paysan, Fergus? My Institute would never have noticed it."
"Because I've dealt with such people. If you take the first offer, they think you're half-witted and they can cheat, rob, or murder you with impunity. If they think we're sharp fellows, alert for any tricks, they're less likely to try them. All the same, we'd better stand watches tonight."
Supper consisted mainly of what Terrans called "live spaghetti," a form of edible Krishnan worm with the disconcerting property of continuing to wriggle after boiling for hours in the countryman's big iron pot. Marot sighed.
"When I get back to France," he said, "I shall sit down in a good restaurant and eat myself into my grave. I am no great gourmet, and I try to adapt myself and not complain, but this! C'est épouvantable donc!"
"What saith he?" asked the householder, whose name was Hendová.
"He praises your food," said Reith. "He says he has never eaten aught like it."
The Krishnan simpered. "Oh, come, sir, ye know I be but a simple countryman; but my wife will be glad to hear it ..."
Afterwards, Reith and Marot sat for an hour answering questions about the planet Earth. The oldest child built a fire on the hearth, since in these drier lands the temperature rose and dropped sharply between day and night. At length Reith asked:
"Where does Squire Sainian bad-Jeb live?"
"The squire?" answered Hendová. "Why, in the big house at the north end of the village! 'Tis the biggest house for many a hoda around. Ye maun have seen it—but I forget, ye entered the town from t'other end."
"Is the squire at home?"
"Aye. He passed me on the street, in's carriage, but yesterday."
"We need to hire some folk to help us. Can you recommend any?"
"How many, and what would ye have them for?"
"We need two workers, to dig and haul earth and do camp chores. Then we should like a couple of trustworthy men who can handle arms, to serve as guards."
Hendová paused, chin on fist. At last he said: "I cannot serve you. I'm the town's carpenter; my apprentice is sick; and I'm tardy on orders. My cousin Doukh is to be had; he's strong as a shaihan. But ye maun keep at him, since he's as lazy as an unha in's wallow. As for the other—well, old Girej is still hale, an ye can keep him off the drink. Had ye come a moon earlier, ye'd have had a wider choice."
"What happened then?"
"Why, t'other Terran hired six of our best men—the best not rooted in their present tasks, ye wite."
"By the other Terran," asked Reith, "do you mean Warren Foltz?"
"Aye. He had some such outlandish name, but I couldn't put my tongue to it."
"How about the guards?" asked Reith.
"There again, we had two retired soldiers, who'd fit your desires like the skin of a qasb, but t'other Terran hired them both."
"The first thing tomorrow, will you take us to the two you named as workers?"
"Aye, if ye start early. I maun be at my bench by sun-up." Reith and Marot passed an uneasy night, disturbed by many-legged Krishnan scuttlers, which got in under their blanket with them and had to be chased out or squashed.
When Reith knocked on Sainian's door, he heard sounds of movement within; but for long minutes the door remained closed. Then it opened suddenly, and Reith found himself confronting three armed Krishnans. In the middle stood a lean, elderly person with a sword. Like other Terrans, Reith found the age of a Krishnan hard to judge; but the network of fine, small wrinkles on the swordsman's face and the paling of his hair to the gray-green of light jade gave evidence of many years' passage.
The other two, flanking the aged Krishnan, were young males clad in the costume of the Chilihagho shaihan-herd. Beneath the triangle of checkered cloth worn like a diaper and serving the function of riding breeches, they wore lace-trimmed white pantelettes tucked into high, soft boots. Large silver spurs, with star-shaped rowels, were attached to these boots by loops of silver chain. Above the waist they wore leather vests that left bare their arms and part of their chests. On their heads were large, floppy, yellow straw hats with meter-wide brims, low skull-hugging crowns, and ribbons tied under the chin. Each bore a cocked crossbow, aimed at Reith's midriff.
"You are right, Fergus," murmured Marot. "One does not fling the door open to anyone."
"What would ye, Terran?" said the oldster in the center.
"Good-morning, sir," said Reith. "Are you Sainian bad-Jeb?"
"What if I be?"
"The Dasht referred me to you. He's given permission to my companion, the learned Doctor Marot, to dig for buried bones in his realm; but he advised me to ask your permission before entering your land."
The Krishnans exchanged puzzled glances. The elder one said: "Strange. Within a ten-day, another Ertsu hath told the same tale and made the same request. Ye be the third set we've seen within the year. Who are ye?"
"My name is Fergus Reith. I work out of Novorecife, guiding visitors from Terra about your fascinating planet. I am now under contract to guide and protect Doctor Marot."
Sainian mused: "This other wight averred the Dasht had given him the exclusive right to dig for bones—an occupation that, if it be true, goes far to prove Terrans a mad race; unless, that be, 'tis but a pretence to disguise a hunt for treasure. Kharob's no ninny; how could he so brazenly contradict his own words, unless one permit or the other be a forgery? Let me see yours."
Marot produced the paper with Kharob's signature and seal. Sainian frowned. "This seems in order, albeit I am no scholar adept at detecting forgeries."
"If you will note," said Reith, "the other fellow got exclusive right to dig in rocks and soil of the Zorian Age, whereas our permit applies to terrain of the Kharobian Period. There is thus no conflict."