These sworders?' said Sarazin, eyeing the four leather- clad strangers with disfavour. Tvly brothers? Which are you?'
'I am Lod of Chenameg, sib of Chenameg's heir, Prince Tarkal,' answered the youth Sarazin had addressed. This is-' 'Introductions later. First, let's get you dressed!'
Jarl's command lacked legal force, but Sarazin, unable to resist his authority, was «oon leather-clad and armed with the worthjich blade of firelight steel given to him earlier that year by the Rice Empire's Lord Regan. Mean- while, Lod had fetched one of the embassy's spare baggage animals.
'Good!' said Jarl, on Lod's return. "Well, load up, mount up and let's be off. I'm sick of pissing around.'
"We did have formal greetings from Farfalla to Lord Regan,' said Celadon. 'After days on the road we did hope, indeed, to sleep tonight in proper beds.'
Well, you're shit out of luck,' said Jarl. 'Lord Regan quit Voice days ago. Business in the capital demanded his presence. But he left me orders to ride for Selzirk immediately you arrived.'
'Surely Sarazin has friends who want to see him off,' said Lod. 'Shouldn't we at least await their arrival?'
'Oh, I farewelled my friends yesterday,' said Sarazin carelessly.
And, all lobbying for delay having failed, they left the fair city of Voice forthwith – with Sarazin downcast, for Lod had chanced on a sore point. Though legally a hostage, Sarazin had ever been Lord Regan's pet, and hence popular always. But exile to Selzirk must inevitably end his influence with Lord Regan – so he had lately found himself unfriended. Except by Jaluba.
Ah, the luscious Jaluba, mistress of the thousand volup- tuous perfumes, queen of the lubricous arts…
Sarazin left Voice with her taste on his lips, her mur- muring passion still hot in memory. He regretted this
(surely permanent) parting, but told himself that, while Jaluba was fun, he was growing too old for idle fancies of the flesh. -My career, that's the thing.
For a full season he had indulged himself with dreams of ambition fulfilled. Now he planned – oh giddy thought! – eventually to make himself master of the Harvest Plains. His next woman would therefore have to be a princess of the Favoured Blood. He deserved – and needed – no less. But… would she love him as Jaluba did?
Of course! How could any princess resist him? He was so elegant, intelligent, poised, talented and cultivated. A man of discretion, wise in the ways of the world – and a doughty warrior to boot.
Sarazin assessed his virtues thus as he rode in the front of the expedition where horsedust was minimal. He had taken the prime position as of right, for he planned to live by Lord Regan's doctrine: "They deserve the best who take it.'
There Jarl found him, and remonstrated with him, saying:
Why were you late? I told you to be ready to move at dawn.'
'At sunrise,' said Sarazin, a dreamy smile on his lips, 'I was warm in Jaluba's arms.' That whore!' said Jarl.
The most recent of my duelling scars,' said Sarazin, frowning, 'was acquired when-'
'I know, I know!' said Jarl impatiently. 'Some fool of a brag called Jaluba a whore so you took to your sword for her honour. Very well! But mark this – once you've left the Rice Empire you'll find men don't play such games of cuts.' 'An affair of swords is never a game,' protested Sarazin.
'Come!' said Jarl. 'I saw you salt that little nick to make a better scar. Believe me, where we're going you'll get no scratches needing such enlargement. For duels in Selzirk are to the death.' 'Who says?' said Sarazin.
'Celadon. Your brother. We've talked already, while you rode dreaming of a bitch of a girl with cream in her cunt and perfume drenched from neck to arsehole.'
You wrong her,' said Sarazin angrily, feeling that Jarl demeaned him by speaking so crudely of the flesh with which he had pleasured. 'She is but sixteen, yet her soul is as subtle as her body is supple.'
"Not any old whore, then, but a desirable whore. But none the better for that I And you a fool to waste money on appetite.'
You wanted her yourself,' said Sarazin, stung. You begged for her favours. She told me! But she found you unworthy.'
'Ahl' said Jarl, unruffled by this revelation. 'I bet the bitch giggled when she said it. Then bit you for passion with her sharp little teeth. So you thought her in love with you, then emptied your purse on account of it.' 'A woman cannot live on air, any more than a horse.'
'Right! Neither can I. Hence fled from her prices extor- tionate. After all, meat is meat, and liver goes cheap at the shambles.' You're gross,' said Sarazin, disgusted.
'True,' said Jarl. 'Cruel, coarse, gross and violent, steeped in the evil of the world, a master of murder, a lord of deceit. I've had five kinds of pox, the cures of which near killed me. Have you? I know the stench of a battlefield twenty days after defeat. Do you? I know-'
Yes, yes,' said Sarazin. You know the colour of every sunset for the last ten thousand years. I thought Elkin the elder, but find myself mistaken. Well then, speak, dear Master of the Depths of Ancient Wisdoms. Speak! I'm all ears.'
"No,' said Jarl, 'you're all cock, for such is the condition of your age. Very well. In Selzirk find yourself a gash then shaft it. But know what you pay for. You can buy flesh, but you can never buy love.' 'I know, I know.'
So spoke Sarazin, not daring to dispute the world's ruling wisdom. Yet secretly he felt Jaluba truly loved him. After all, she had never asked him directly for money. Delayed payments would see her chiding her little dog for appetites which would eat them into ruin. But she had never soiled their love by bartering herself frankly for cash.
'Right, then!' said Jarl. 'Don't let whores bankrupt you. Watch your gambling, too. I know Lord Regan has covered your debts in the past, though he cursed you for a fool at the time. In Selzirk you'll not meet with such indulgence from your mother.' 'I am her eldest son,' said Sarazin.
'Maybe. But she has the reputation of being the hardest woman in all of Argan. Which is only to be expected, for a woman must be twice as tough as a man to win half the respect.' You say.'
'I know! Just as I know you've every chance of ending up face down dead in the Velvet River. In Voice, privilege has protected you from life's harder lessons. You'll have no such protection in Selzirk. So remember: don't drink with strangers, don't gamble with strangers, don't-' When is this lecture going to finish?' demanded Sarazin.
When I'm satisfied you can walk the streets of Selzirk for a day and a night without losing your head,' retorted Jarl. He was not satisfied for quite some time.
Jarl, frustrated by the slow-paced baggage-animals, refused to allow a halt for lunch. Nobody was game enough to challenge him. With lectures finished, he grilled the foreigners about life in Selzirk, and it was long before Celadon was free to satisfy his own curiosity about Sarazin, who was weary and saddle-sore, unused to riding so far without a break.
To his surprise. Celadon found his kinsman had great difficulty speaking their native Churl. They therefore conversed in the Galish Trading Tongue. You're glad to be free again, doubtless,' said Celadon. 'I suppose I am,' said Sarazin cautiously.
A career as a royal hostage was the only life Sarazin knew. He had enjoyed it. After all, he had always had good food, fine clothes, ready cash and comfort; his wit had won applause at parties; he had hunted, hawked, trained with the sword, visited the theatre, slept with courtesans, flirted with girlfriends and dabbled in scholarship.
He had lived, then, as a man of good breeding should. From the warnings Jarl had given him, he suspected life in Selzirk was going to be a shock to the system. But, he thought, forewarned is forearmed. Then realised Celadon was talking to him. '… which might be fun.' 'What might be?' said Sarazin. Weren't you listening?' said Celadon.
'Brother,' said Sarazin, 'your speech is so fair it warrants a second hearing.'