"I'm sure it was a misunderstanding," said Reith.
This Krishnan, however, proved less easily pacified than the other. "I care naught!" he cried. "The stain upon mine honor cannot be washed away, save only by blood! I will meet this stinking alien with swords or crossbows or whatever weapons—"
"Master Ordway is not permitted to fight duels," said Reith. "He will, however, compensate you for any injury done to your dignity."
"Honor cannot be bought with vulgar coin! How much hath the dazg with him?" Among Krishnans dazg, applied to Terrans, was an ethnic pejorative, as were words like "gook" and "wog" used by Earthmen of the crasser sort.
"We shall see," said Reith. "Come, all! Well slop the cold plunge."
In the locker room, Reith made Ordway turn out the contents of the large coin purse he carried and handed the money to the angry Krishnan.
"You're leaving me flat slant!" groaned Ordway.
"Serves you right, idiot!" snarled Reith, turning away. When the aggrieved Krishnan had departed and the Terrans were dressing, Reith said: "Now, Cyril, give me the straight goods about that encounter, or you can stick your movie where the sun never shines!"
"I was enjoying the water, Fergus, when this bird comes up and commences to practice her English. When she starts rubbing up against me, I couldn't help getting a—you know—well, after seeing Alicia without her—anyway, I don't care what this dame says; I know what she wanted. So to help matters along, I gave her a gentle little pinch on the arse. 'Ow was I to know that big bloke was her husband? The Eyetalians do it, and it gets 'em a quick go in the bushes any time."
Reith signed. "I don't care for your excuses. The next Donnybrook you stir up will be your last on this planet. And I mean it!"
An officer in a silvered cuirass led Reith and his protégés into the audience room of the Dasht's palace, where tapestries of battle scenes hung behind statues of raging warriors and ravishing women. As they marched in, with Alicia walking in step with Reith and the other two trailing, Ordway craned his neck to peer at the Krishnan females in marble, muttering, "They're not quite like us—proportions different somehow—but I'd like to give one a try ..."
"Hush up and keep your mind on the business at hand," murmured Reith.
As they entered the room, four trumpeters in medieval-looking tabards, tike those of playing-card jacks, raised silver trumpets and blew a long flourish. On the opposite side, four drummer boys burst into a deafening ruffle.
The officer leading them strode forward, dropped to one knee before a seated figure, and banged a fist against his gleaming breastplate, intoning, "Your Supreme Altitude, I have the honor to present visitors from the world called Terra, namely: Master Reith, Master Ordway, Master White, and Doctor Dyckman."
With the hand behind his back, the officer motioned to the four Terrans to approach.
Ordway muttered: "Blast you, Fergus! You made me shave off my mustache, and now look at that comic-opera brighter in the dixie!"
The person referred to rose from his throne to acknowledge the Terrans' bows with a condescending nod. Gilan the Third, or Gilan bad-Jam, Dasht of Ruz, was a tall, slim Krishnan with a nose more prominent than usual among his flat-faced countrymen. He wore shiny black jackboots, tight scarlet breeches, an argent breastplate ablaze with medals, and a silver helmet whence sprouted a pair of aqebat wings. The Dasht's most arresting feature was a large, obviously false mustache, the ends of which turned up like the tusks of a Terran wild boar.
"My Altitude is pleased to greet the visitors from another world," said Gilan in a high, rasping voice, speaking English with only the slightest trace of accent. "Mr. Reith, have I not had the pleasure before?"
"Indeed so, Your Altitude," said Reith. "Twice, when I have brought parties of Terrans through your splendid city, you have graciously condescended to greet us in person."
"Indeed, my memory never fails," said the Dasht. "But tell me, is the person the usher called 'Doctor' the female Terran I see?"
"Yes, sir. She is a learned student of the societies of your planet."
The Dasht wagged his head. "I should not have thought that one so youthful, and a female at that, were capable of such distinction; but perhaps it is different with your species." He stepped forward and held out his hand, palm down, to be kissed.
Ordway grabbed the proffered hand, gave it a hearty squeeze, and pumped it several times. When the Dasht recovered his appendage, he rubbed his fingers to restore circulation. The flash of anger that flickered across his features was quickly replaced by a glimmer of amusement. He proffered his hand to Reith, who ceremoniously kissed it. Alicia and White followed suit, while Ordway looked uncomfortable. The Dasht spoke: "My good Terrans, you come at an auspicious time. Tomorrow begins the year's Rosido Fair, with a parade and a concert. Tonight I bid you to a banquet heralding the opening of the (air. Afterwards our talented Earth-born engineer, Mr. Strachan, will demonstrate the wonders of science. Until the tenth hour, then, farewell!"
III - Princess Vázni
"Bloody wog tribal chief!" muttered Ordway. "Must dunk he's the Pope."
"You're just an ethnocentric bigot," said White. "I thought he treated us well enough. Not his fault you didn't know the rules."
"Don't be fooled," said Reith as their carriage rolled back to the inn. "He can put on the gracious manner, and he speaks the best English of any Krishnan I know after Ferrian. He's done some good things; but he's got a terminal case of the ruler's disease."
"What's that?" asked Ordway.
"Megalomania. He's unpredictable and quite ruthless with anyone who gets in his way. If you're keen to know what having your head cut off feels like, try pulling off those false whiskers."
At the inn, they washed up and changed into their best finery. When Alicia appeared, Reith stared, White gulped, and Ordway whistled. Reith asked: "Lish, could that dress be a copy of the one we bought together in Majbur, years ago?"
"It's the original," she said. "I've guarded it with my life, all the way to Terra and back. Is it still in styled' As Alicia paused to twirl like a model, the filmy violet gown, cut down to midriff level in front, swirled around her like a lilac mist.
Reith smiled fondly. "I haven't been to any Krishnan parties lately, but a gorgeous girl in a gown like that should set the styles, not follow them. I ought to remind you, though, that in the outback, some missionaries have persuaded the local rulers to forbid such—uh —displays of personal resources."
"What a shame!" laughed Alicia. "Every woman should be allowed to make the most of her assets. Are we ready to go?"
At the palace, the Terran guests found themselves on a receiving line that stretched through the anteroom and out into the hall. Everyone waited patiently for a quarter-hour, while the line failed to move. Reith asked the cause.
"His Altitude's betrothed is late, as usual," grumbled the courtier ahead of him. Behind Reith, Alicia whispered: "Fergus, I think the missionaries have been hitting the shaihan's eyes here. Not one woman is wearing a dress like mine."
Reith glanced up and down the lengthening line. "You lad me not! Not a tit in the tatting. It's not just fickle fashion, either; dames wear dresses like yours in other cities."
"I see I'll have to buy a new evening dress. Do you know where I might find one?"
"I don't think ready-mades can be bought in a town of this size. You'd have to hunt up a dressmaker." With a slightly shamefaced grin, Reith added: "I know, because I've had to take my women tourists shopping."