Barnevelt replied: "I'd be glad to, except that my orders are to deliver these things in person to Sheafase. Otherwise Queen Alvandi won't consider any reply germane, because she wants to know with whom she's dealing."
"Do you presume to give me orders?" asked the officer in an ominous tone.
"Not at all, sir. I merely repeat what she told me. If you don't want to deal on those terms—well, that's for you and her to settle. I'm neutral."
"Hm. I'll see what says High Admiral Sheafase."
"Tell him also the queen demands that I see the Princess Zei, to satisfy myself of her condition."
"You demand but little, don't you? 'Twill not astonish me if he has you thrown to the fondaqa."
"That's the chance we take in my business," said Barnevelt with ostentatious unconcern, though his heart pounded and his knees wobbled.
The officer went away, over the plank to the next galley. Barnevelt and his five companions waited. The sun, a red ball in the haze, touched the horizon and began to slide below it. Barnevelt, who had been surreptitiously shooting film, regretted its passing from a cinematic point of view (the Haya-shi being a poor performer at night) even though darkness would much improve their chances of escape.
After the sun had disappeared and Karrim, the nearest and brightest of the three moons, had risen palely in the eastern sky, the officer came back and said: "Follow me."
The sailors shouldered their burden and followed Dirk and Zakkomir across the deck and the gangplank to the next galley. Here the officer led them forward to the big deckhouse between foremast and bow. A sentry opened the cabin door to let them in.
As he passed the sentry, Barnevelt started. The man was Igor Shtain.
Although he had been half-consciously bracing himself for a meeting with Shtain, Barnevelt almost staggered at the sight of his boss, He hesitated, staring stupidly and waiting for some sign of recognition, while the others crowded up behind him.
Had Shtain genuinely joined the pirates, and if so would he denounce Dirk? Was this his method of getting into the Sunqar for professional purposes? Or had Barnevelt made a mistake?
No; there was the same wrinkled skin—its ruddiness apparent even in the twilight—the same staring blue eyes, the same close-clipped mustache the color of slightly rusted steel-wool. Shtain did not even try to pass himself off as a Krishnan by wearing false antennae on his forehead, though he had on Krishnan clothes.
Shtain, saying nothing, returned Barnevelt's gaze with a blank stare of his own.
"Ao, Master Gozzan!" said Zakkomir behind him. Dirk awoke and stepped over the raised sill of the cabin door.
Inside, lamps had been lit against the failure of the daylight. In the middle of the cabin was a plotting table, around which stood three figures. One was a tall Krishnan in a garment like a poncho: a big square of fabric with a hole in the middle for his head and a labyrinthine pattern around the edge. Another was another Krishnan, shorter and in shorts.
The third was a reptilian Osirian, much like the Sishen whom Barnevelt had met in Jazmurian. This one, apparently, had abandoned what to Osirians were the decencies of civilized life, for he wore no body paint upon his scales. Barnevelt knew him at once for Sheafase.
Barnevelt struggled to swallow, in order to lubricate his dry mouth and throat. He was frightened less of the hell that was due to break loose shortly than with the fear that, in a situation that was becoming so complicated, he might absent-mindedly overlook some obvious factor and hence bring them all to disaster.
The sailors set down the chest upon the floor. He of the poncho said in a strange dialect: "Let the sailors go out and wait upon the deck."
The officer who had led them into the cabin shut and bolted the door, then got out writing materials from a drawer in the plotting table. Barnevelt guessed this man to be some sort of aide or adjutant, while the other three Sunqaruma really ran the outfit.
"Your message." It was the dry rustling voice of the Osirian, barely intelligible.
Barnevelt plucked the queen's letter out of his jacket and handed it to Sheafase, who in turn handed it to the adjutant, saying: "Read it."
The adjutant cleared his throat and read:
From Alvandi, by the grace of the Goddess Varzai Queen of Qirib, etcetera, etcetera, to Sheafase, Chief etcetera. Astonished and chagrined are We that in a time of peace between yourselves and Us, your people should commit the wicked depredation of entering Our city of Ghulinde, robbing and slaying Our citizens, and seizing the sacred person of our daughter, the Royal Princess Zei.
Therefore We demand, on pain of Our dire displeasure, that you forthwith release the princess and either return her to Our territory by your own expedients or permit the trusty bearers of this message so to do. Further, We demand sufficient explanation of this base predacious act and satisfaction for the wrongs inflicted on Our blameless subjects. Should there however lie between us matters wherein you deem yourself offended, Our door stands ever open for the hearing of legitimate complaints. To prove that not even this felonious deed has yet exhausted the reservoir of Our good-will toward yourself, We do by these trusty couriers send a liberal gift. Their orders are: to you in person to give this message and its accompanying largesse; from you in person cogent answer to receive; and not willingly to depart from you until the princess in the body they have seen, and received assurance as to her condition.
Silence ensued for several seconds. Barnevelt felt that the queen had made herself look rather silly, starting out full of fiery indignation and demands and ending weakly with a tender of tribute and an implied promise to pay more. Yet what could the poor lady do? She was trying to beat a full house with a pair of deuces.
He stepped forward, unlocked the chest, and lifted the top. The Sunqaruma crowded around it, peered in, picked out a few pieces and held them up to the windows or the lamps to examine them more closely and ran their fingers through the coins. Barnevelt hoped they would not remark the disparity between the size of the treasure and the size of the chest. For, while the treasure was considerable both in value and weight, gold is dense, and in a chest the size of a small Earthly trunk it barely covered the bottom.
Finally Sheafase stepped back, saying: "Attention, gentlemen. Agree we not that our letter, already prepared, covers all points raised by this message?"
The Krishnan in the poncho made the affirmative head motion. The Krishnan in shorts, however, demurred.
"Sirs, 'tis my thought we have not given my proposal due consideration. The princess is the key to the wealth of the Zogha, and we shall rue the day we let this key slip through fingers trembling from overhaste…" He spoke the Qiribo dialect.
"Enough, 'Urgan," said the Osirian. " Tis also true that many a key has been broken in the lock by turning too forcefully when it did not fit. We can discuss your proposal further while awaiting the old drossel's reply."
While this dialogue had been going on, the adjutant had been taking another letter out of a drawer in a small side table. Now he handed this to Sheafase, together with writing materials. The pirate chief signed this letter, and the adjutant sealed it up and handed it to Barnevelt.
Sheafase said: "Receive our answer. In case it should be lost under the flail of fate before you can deliver it, tell Al-vandi this: That we'll keep her daughter safe from harm on two conditions. One: that the contract relevant to the sale of janru be amended by a rise in price, for the late increase in costs to compensate. And two: that she render unto us the persons of two vagabonds who now frequent her court, calling themselves Snyol of Pleshch and Tagde of Vyutr. As for releasing the princess, that's a matter wanting more consideration. The letter furnishes details."