“I have no choice.” Ray’s voice was bleak. “When you
come, if you come, again to the motherland, tell them they have indeed fashioned a tool to their service.”
“If you must stay,” Taut. broke in, “go you to the maker of sails in the shop by the drinking den at the end of the third wharf. Say to him my name. It may gain you a measure of safety.”
“We shall return with you-” began one of the Murians.
Ray shook his head. “Mu has need of ten blades, and the men to wield them, and also of what knowledge you have gained here of the city and its defenses.”
“That is true, even though it be hard saying,” agreed the officer. “But, remember this. When you come again into the Sun, you have ten liege men waiting to back your banner, my lord. And may the brightness of the Flame light any path you take!”
Ray returned to the ladder, eager to be away, though this time he might be going straight into the arms of Ba-Al.
13
RAY clung to one of the piles under the wharf. He could hear voices, though they were too muffled to make out words clearly. He already knew that the hunters were out. From this hiding place he could not see the raider. Would Taut be able to get out to sea, perhaps running a gauntlet of the fleet? Or would he even try? The captain’s conversion to Mu was so easy that it made Ray suspicious. Perhaps he had only waited for the American to leave before he signaled the Poseidon’s men to collect the escaped Murians. But if, that was his plan-why let Ray go? He would be an. even bigger prize.
Unless they believed that he could lead them to more. Murian contacts in the city and would trail him-Yet; Taut himself had given him a contact. Though, of course, the sail maker might have the guard waiting
He wedged himself tighter into his small crevice, but he could not stop shivering, and not only from the chill . of his soaked undertunic. Why had he come back-or been sent? Somehow they had planted orders in his brain during that time they had been making him into Sydyk. And he did not understand those orders
The movement overhead ceased. They must have gone on to search elsewhere. He had been careful not to. swim to a quay near where they had taken off but one . some distance to the west. But where to go now? To try, to get back into the city was as good as marching up to the nearest guard with his hands in the air. And he was so tired that he wanted nothing so much as a dark corner into which he could crawl and perhaps sleep a’ little.
His present position was too cramped. Ray doubted whether he could make any sort of getaway if they: came upon him suddenly. Better move into the open,;` where perhaps he had a thin chance. Clumsily he edged along one of the under support beams, transferred to another, working his way to land, while under him the water washed sluggishly. He often halted to listen for noise aloft or the sound of oars in the harbor.
He hesitated for a long moment before he swung up and managed to reach the upper side of the wharf. There were bales heaped there, and he scurried to them as one might dart for shelter, worming his way through a crack between two into a kind of cave. Although these were a barrier against the wind, still Ray shivered. He must have dozed without knowing it, for now it was gray instead of dusky in the cracks and crevices between the piled bales, and he heard the tramp of feet outside. Morning? The dock workers coming?
Ray pulled out of his hiding place on the water side, ready for a dive into the oily wash of water below if the need came. For the first time he looked down at his body, trying to judge what sort of appearance he would make in the open.
When they had taken to the water, he had left on the dockside the kilt, helm, and corselet of the guard. What covered him now was an undertunic, and it was so stained by contact with the none-too-clean waters of the harbor that it resembled a laborer’s tunic. His boots-he frowned at those-but he could not discard them. Perhaps they did not look too much as if they had been part of a uniform.
For weapons he had only a dagger and his two hands. He held those out, regarding them appraisingly. In a country that knew nothing of the kind of infighting training given in his own world, they were proving to be better weapons of defense than any steel. He rubbed them up and down the front of his clammy tunic.
He was hungry; there was a pinch in his middle. Ray licked the salt taste from his lips and tried not to think of food.
“Put your back to it-jellyfish! Think you can move these by looking and wishing?”
The shout was underlined by a cracking snap. Ray
started, ready to slip into the scummy water. Then, instead, he wriggled to the end bale to peer around. There was a work crew moving onto the wharf under a whip-swinging overseer. Slaves probably, Ray thought. But save that they wore rope sandals and he boots, there was little outward difference between those slouching, sullen laborers and himself.
Suppose he were to join such a crew—could he pass unnoticed? But it might well be that the overseers kept too close a watch on their charges, that they would be as quick to note one too many as one too few. Better not try it.
He swung over the end of the wharf and found another place from which to climb to the quay. There were boxes there being unloaded from a cart, and a waiting line of men to take them up. Ray waited in the shadows for a chance to move on. Then he saw that other, a thin man with a face more than half masked in a bush of ragged beard. He wore a tattered tunic, and he was also keeping out of sight of the overseer, his glance flitting back and forth between the boxes and the man in charge of their unloading. Then, with a quick dart, he joined the tail end of the line of workers, coming up just in time to receive one of the boxes. Instead of following the man before him, he shot to one side and began to run, the box in his arms.
Ray seized the opportunity the other’s audacious act had given him.
“Thief-stop, thief” Whether that was the regulation cry in such circumstances, the American had no way of telling. But it brought an answering cry from the overseer. Several men dropped their burdens and broke out of line to follow the runner. Ray joined with these, playing the part of a hound after the man who dodged in and out among carts and burden bearers. Then the American saw a welcoming doorway and darted into its shadow. The portal gave slightly under the hand he put out to steady himself, and, daringly, he entered, letting it swing to behind him.
The dusk here was darker than the early morning L
outside. There were many foul smells, but some odors . of food made Ray’s stomach knot. He walked softly, r-waiting a second or two outside each curtained doorway. There were small sounds from some, a grunt, a scrape, enough to let him know the building had its inhabitants. But he reached the end of the hall without seeing any of them. There was another door there, and it had an inner latch, which he eased out of its bar with infinite care.
Beyond lay a narrow alley littered with rubbish. Ray glanced from right to left along it. Mankind did not 4 change through the centuries. This could be a back b way through any slum. Some of the smells were a little more exotic than those of his own age—that was all.
There were windows in plenty looking down upon this way. But whether anyone looking through them might take an interest in him-It could well be that in such a district as this one minded one’s own concerns, saw nothing, heard nothing that was not of one’s private business.
He picked a way through the mess of garbage and rubbish and was drawing near to one of the side outlets when he froze. A groan? Certainly that had been a groan? And it came from behind a rotting basket piled high with refuse. Ray edged closer to the wall and kicked at a noisome heap of decaying matter.
There was only a second or two in which to regret his folly. From behind the basket a wild figure leaped at him, and the knife in one hand was as bright as the sun. Well trained in fighting tactics, Ray made a counter move to that confident attack. His hand closed about a wrist, and the knife was hurled against the . wall, but not quite in time.