The Dark Design by Phillip Jose Farmer

Honour Not Honours was his motto, but this was a matter of recompense, not thievery.

He gave the order, and each took five grails. They put the wide handle of one grail over their head, letting it hang behind them by the neck and thrust each arm through the handles of two grails. Then they left the building, barred the door, and followed the leather cord to the canoe. The torches were left upon the deck outside the storehouse.

Loghu said, “Isn’t it about time the Indians attacked?”

“Past time, I would say,” Monat replied.

The canoe loaded, they paddled away. Their destination was the south bank, which they intended to follow up-River until just before dawn. Burton was worried about the extra grails. If the local authorities saw them, they might seize them. Even if they didn’t, greedy individuals would try to steal them.

There was only one way to hide them. The extras were filled with water. Sections of leather line were cut, and one end of each was tied to a handle. The other end was tied to the upper part of the canoe framework through a hole punched in the skin.

The drag on the canoe was heavy, but fortunately they were very close to the bank. They stopped at a dock complex near a grailstone and tied the canoe to a piling under a dock.

They sat down under the stone and waited. Dawn and hundreds of citizens came. Burton’s group introduced itself and requested permission to use the stone. This was given gladly, since the south-bank locals were peaceful. In fact, they welcomed strangers, a source of news and gossip.

The fog burned away. Burton got on top of the stone and looked toward the spire. Its base was about 2.5 nautical miles distant, which, from his altitude, put the horizon 4 miles away. He could see the larger buildings and the idol but the flames he had expected to be rising from them were nonexistent. Perhaps the Shaawanwaaki had not set them afire. After all, they might have wanted to keep the raft intact until it could be taken to the shore and dismantled. Its logs were valuable.

Instead of pushing on that day, he decided that they would rest. That afternoon a Ganopo party landed, the chief among them. Burton questioned him.

The chief laughed. “Those Shaawanwaaki turtleheads complete­ly missed the raft. They couldn’t see the fire, though how they could not, I don’t understand. Anyway, they paddled around for hours, and when the fog lifted they found that the current had taken them five stones below the island. What a bunch of bums!”

“Bid the Babylonians say anything to you about their missing canoe? Not to mention the guards we had to rough up?”

Burton thought it best not to say anything about the grails.

The chief laughed again. “Yes, they came storming ashore before the stone flamed. They were very angry, though they did not say why. They knocked us around a little, but the bruises and the insults did not bother us because we were happy that you had made fools of them. They searched the island thoroughly, but they did not find you, of course. They did find the ashes of the fire and asked us about it. I told them that it was a ceremonial fire.

“They didn’t believe me. I think they must have guessed the truth. You won’t have to worry about them sending out search parties for you. Every one of them, .including Metusael, is strain­ing to get the raft off today. They must expect another attack to­night.”

Burton asked the chief why the Shaawanwaaki didn’t attack in the daylight. They could easily overwhelm the Babylonians.

“That is because there is an agreement among the states in this area to protect strangers. So far, it has been honored and with good reason. The other states would be compelled to go to war against the aggressor. However, the Shaawanwaaki were hoping to keep it a secret. If they were to be found out, they would say that the raftspeople had refused to pay compensation for the damage done to us.

“I don’t know. Perhaps the Shaawanwaaki will give up the idea.

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