A Knight of Ghosts and Shadows by Poul Anderson. Chapter 13, 14, 15, 16

maybe their best chance.”

The newsroom vanished. “Important recorded announcement,” said a man in

Dennitzan uniform. “A dangerous agent of Merseia is at large in

Zorkagrad or vicinity.” What must be a portrait from some xenological

archive, since it was not of Chives, flashed onto the screen. “He landed

eight days ago, posing as a peaceful traveler. Four days ago” (the

computer must redub every 18.8 hours) “he was identified, but fought his

way free of arrest and disappeared. He is of this species, generally

known as Shalmuan. When last seen he wore a white kilt and had taken a

blaster from a patrolman after injuring the entire squad. I repeat, your

government identifies him as a Merseian secret agent, extremely

dangerous because of his mission as well as his person. If you see him,

do not take risks. Above all, do not try talking with him. If he cannot

safely be killed, report the sighting to your nearest military post. A

reward of 10,000 gold dinars is offered for information leading to his

death or capture. Dead or alive, he himself is worth a reward of

50,000–”

Air hissed between Kossara’s teeth. Flandry sat moveless for minutes

before he said stonily, “That’s how. Somebody, in some fashion,

recognized Chives. That meant I was around, and most likely you. That

meant–any contact between your family and the Gospodar–yes.”

Kossara wept anew, in sorrow and in rage.

Yet at the end it was she who lifted her head and said, hoarse but

level-toned, “I’ve thought of where we might go, Dominic, and what we

might try to do.”

XVI

Clouds and a loud raw wind had blown in across the ocean. Morning along

the Obala, the east coast of Rodna, was winterlike, sky the color of

lead, sea the colors of iron and gunmetal. But neither sky nor sea was

quiet. Beneath the overcast a thin smoky wrack went flying; surf

cannonaded and exploded on reefs and beaches.

All Nanteiwon boats were in, big solid hulls moored behind the jetty or

tied at the wharf. Above the dunes the fisher village huddled. Each

house was long and wide as an ychan family needed, timbers tarred black,

pillars that upheld the porch carved and brightly painted with ancestral

symbols, blue-begrown sod roof cable-anchored against hurricanes, a

spacious and sturdy sight. But there were not many houses. Beyond them

reached the flatlands the dwellers cultivated, fields harvested bare and

brown, trees a-toss by roadsides, on the horizon a vague darkening which

betokened the ringwall of the Kazan. The air smelled of salt and

distances.

Inside the home of Ywodh were warmth, sun-imitating fluorescents, musky

odor of bodies, growls to drown out the piping at the windows. Some

forty males had crowded between the frescoed walls of the mootroom,

while more spilled throughout the building. They wore their common garb,

tunic in bright colors thrown over sinewy green frame and secured by a

belt which held the knuckleduster knife. But this was no common

occasion. Perched on tails and feet, muscles knotted, they stared at the

three on the honor-dais.

Two were human. One they knew well, Kossara Vymezal. She used to come

here often with Trohdwyr, brother to Khwent, Yffal, drowned Qythwy …

How weary she looked. The other was a tall man who bore a mustache,

frosted brown hair, eyes the hue of today’s heaven.

Ywodh, Hand of the Vach Anochrin, steadcaptain of Nanteiwon, raised his

arms. “Silence!” he called. “Hark.” When he had his desire, he brought

his gaunt, scarred head forward and told them:

“You have now heard of the outrages done and the lies proclaimed.

Between dawn, when I asked you to keep ashore today, and our meeting

here, I was in phonetalk up and down the Obala. Not an ychan leader but

swore us aid. We know what Merseian rule would bring.

“Let us know, too, how empty of hope is a mere rebellion against

rebellion. We have boats, civilian aircars, sporting guns; a

revolutionary government would have military flyers and armored

groundcars, spacecraft, missiles, energy weapons, gases, combat

shielding. The plotters have ignored us partly because they took for

granted we care little about a change of human overlords and might

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