"What happened at the trial?" asked Hasselborg.
"Oh, now, the dasht presented his evidence, and the lawyer for the defense said he could find nought to be said in your favor, no indeed he couldn't, so the court sentenced you to be eaten in the game, day after tomorrow."
"You mean they're going to stick me in an arena with that yeki I helped catch?"
"Surely, surely, and great joke the dasht thought it, heh, hen. Not that I have aught against you, Master Kavir, but it do seem like the gods taking a hand to blow up a man with his own firework, now don't it? But take it not too hard, lad, all must go when their candle's burnt down. Truly sorry am I to lose so fine a guest so soon, however; truly sorry."
I weep for you, the Walrus said; I deeply sympathize, thought Hasselborg. He said: "Never mind that. What happens at this game?"
"A parade, and fireworks, and a show at the stadium—races afoot and mounted, boxing and wrestling, you being eaten, and finally a battle between some tailed Koloftuma and some of our own condemned criminals with real weapons. That'll be an event worth waiting for; too bad ye'll not be there to see it!"
Although not a vain man, Hasselborg felt a slight pique at not being deemed good enough for the main attraction. "What's this game in celebration of?"
"Oh, now, some astrological conjunction; I mis-remember which. They come along every few ten-nights, that is the well-omened ones do, if ye believe in that star-gazing foolishness, and the apprentices quit work to riot in the streets and the dasht stages a big party for his court with a circus for the common folk."
"Do I fight this critter with weapons?"
"Oh, my honor, no! Ye might hurt the beast or even slay it. Time was when the victim was given a wooden pretend sword for the amusement of the people, but one of them—an Ertsu 'twas, too—hurt the eye of the favorite yeki of the dasht, so he ordered that thereafter they should be sent in with nought in their hands, heh heh. Tis quite a sight; blood all over the place."
Hasselborg leaned forward intently. "Did you say an earthman was eaten at one of these celebrations?"
"Aye, to be sure he was. What's so singular about that? 'Tis true it's been said in Ruz that the dasht ought to give special consideration to the Ertsuma, because, forsooth, 'tis rumored that they have weapons of such might that one of their fireworks would blot Rosid off the face of the planet. But the dasht will have nought oft, saying, so long as he's Dasht of Ruz he'll see that justice is administered in the good old Ruzo way—nobles to have precedence over commoners, commoners over foreigners, and all over slaves. That way every wight knows where he stands and what he faces; start making exceptions, and where's justice? For isn't consistency the essence of justice? Though I be no doctor of laws, meseems he has the right of it, now don't he?"
Hasselborg looked at the ceiling in thought. Evidently the fact of his being an Earthman, if made known, might prove more a liability than an asset. "Yeshram, what would you do if you had… let's say a half-million karda?"
"Ohe! Think ye to befool me, Master Kavir? Ye've no such sum on your person, for we looked into that when ye came hither. That's a dasht's ransom. Let's talk sense, lad, in the little time ye have left."
"I'm serious. What would you do?"
"Truly I know not. Quit this dirty post, surely. Buy up some estates and have a try at being a gentleman. Perhaps even get my eldest male-chick knighted in time. I know not. There's hardly a limit to what one could do with so vast a sum. But tantalize me not or
I'll take it ill."
"Even if I don't have that much on me, I might be able to get hold of it."
"So? Tell me not that besides being a spy and a picture painter, ye're a spinner of fine tales of fire-breathing dragons and invisible castles to boot?"
"No, this is no romance. I've got a letter of credit on deposit at Novorecife that's worth that amount, and if somebody could get me out of here I'd naturally be willing to pay liberally."
Now the jailer was thoughtful. "But how could I get this money? How can I be sure 'tis there to be had?"
"You'd have to send somebody to fetch it. Let me see—I know who'd be glad to go—a trooper of the highway patrol named Garmsel bad-Manyao. If you can get word to him, he'll ride day and night to Novorecife with a draft from me on that letter."
The jailer made the negative head-motion. "I see difficulties, lad. We'd have to fake a delivery, ye see, and that means letting more people into the scheme and paying them off. Then, too, no matter how fast this soldier friend of yours rode, he couldn't make Novorecife and back by the time you were down the yeki's gullet. Moreover, if ye didn't appear for the games, the dasht would have my head for it, or at least my post. No, I couldn't chance it, especially I couldn't chance it before I had the money in hand. Once I had it in hand, of course, I'd defy any wight but the dasht himself."
After they had brooded in silence a while, the jailer resumed: "Perhaps I can get you through the games alive, despite all. Yeshram has a scheme. If ye'll give me the draft now, I'll do my best, and if I fail, ye'll have no use for gold anyway, will ye now?"
Hasselborg, disinclined to trust the jailer so far, countered: "Tell you what. I'll write you a draft for a quarter-million karda now, and another other quarter-million when I get out."
"But how know I ye'll pay me the second half, once ye're free and fleeing with the eshuna baying on your track?"
"How do I know you'll get me out once you get your hands on the first instalment? Wouldn't you be happier with me inside the yeki and so unable to expose our little deal? Not that I distrust you, Master Yeshram, but you see how it is. You trust me, I trust you. Whereas if we fail to agree and I get eaten, you'll have nothing but what I've got on me, which won't set you up in any baronial splendor."
They haggled for an hour before Hasselborg won his points. Yeshram, for instance, wanted a half-million net, while Hasselborg insisted on a half-million gross, out of which Yeshram would have to pay such other bribes as proved necessary.
Finally Hasselborg wrote his draft, saying: "What's this scheme of yours?"
"I mislike to tell you, since a secret known to many is no secret at all, as it says in the Proverbs of Nehavend. Howsomever, do but face the beast boldly and ye'll find him perchance less inclined to devour you than is his wont."
Then Hasselborg had the excruciating experience of waiting for two Krishnan days and nights until the time neared for his execution. He tried to read a textbook on Gozashtando law, which Yeshram furnished him, but found it tough going—the law here was mostly precedent, and Hasselborg was not fluent enough in the written language yet to read it with any ease. He paced, smoked, ate little, and spent half-hours gazing sentimentally at Alexandra's tiny handkerchief.
He also kept sending the assistant jailer out to ask if there were any news from Trooper Garmsel yet. He knew there would not be but could not help hoping for a miracle. He got some small comfort out of the fact that he had exercised enough self-control to strike this bargain with Yeshram for less than half the total amount his letter of credit had been good for; there had been a time, when Yeshram was hesitating, when he'd been strongly tempted to throw the entire amount at the jailer, although he knew that would be money wasted.
The second afternoon after his arrival, Yeshram came in, saying: "Be ye ready? Courage, my master. No, no, for the hundredth time, no news. Garmsel would need a glider towed by trained aqebats, like Prince Bourudjird in the legend, to have got back by now. Why shake ye so? I run a risk like unto yours, don't I?"