“Go on!” shouted Ezkr.
Green turned his head and told him in indelicate language what he could do with the yard and the whole ship for that matter if he could manage it.
Ezkr’s dark face reddened and he stood up and began walking out on the yard. Green’s eyes widened. This man could actually do it!
But when he was a few feet away the sailor stopped and said, “No, you are trying to anger me so I will grapple with you here and perhaps be pushed off, since you have a firmer hold. No, I will not be such a fool. It is you who must try to get past me.”
He turned and walked almost carelessly back to the mast, against which he leaned while he waited.
“You have to go out to the very end,” he repeated. “Else you won’t pass the test even if you should get by me, which, of course, you won’t.”
Green gritted his teeth and humped out to what he considered close enough to the end, about two feet away. Any more might break the arm, as it was already bending far down. Or so it seemed to him.
He then backed away, managed to turn, and to work back to within several feet of Ezkr. Here he paused to regain his breath, his strength and his courage.
The sailor waited, one hand on a rope to steady himself, the other with its dagger held point-out at Green.
The Earthman began unwinding his turban.
“What are you doing?” said Ezkr, frowning with sudden anxiety.
Up to this point he had been master, because he knew what to expect. But if something unconventional happened…
Green shrugged his shoulders and continued his very careful and slow unwrapping of his headpiece.
“I don’t want to spill this,” he said.
“Spill what?”
“This!” shouted Green, and he whipped the turban upward towards Ezkr’s face.
The turban itself was too far from the sailor to touch him. But the sand contained within it flew into his eyes before the wind could dissipate it. Amra, following her husband’s directions, had collected a large amount from the fireplace’s sand pile to wrap in it, and though it had made his head feel heavy it had been worth it.
Ezkr screamed and clutched at his eyes, releasing his dagger. At the same time, Green slid forward and rammed his fist into the man’s groin. Then, as Ezkr crumpled toward him, he caught him and eased him down. He followed his first blow with a chopping of the edge of his palm against the fellow’s neck. Ezkr quit screaming and passed out. Green rolled him over so that he lay on his stomach across the yard, supported on one side by the mast, with his legs, arms and head dangling. That was all he wanted to do for him. He had no intention of carrying him down. His only wish was to get to the deck, where he’d be safe. If Ezkr fell off now, too bad.
Amra and Inzax were waiting at the foot of the shrouds when Green slowly climbed off. When he set foot on the deck, he thought his legs would give way, they were trembling so. Amra, noticing this, quickly put her arms around him as if to embrace the conquering hero but actually to kelp support him.
“Thanks,” he muttered. “I need your strength, Amra.”
“Anybody would who had done what you’ve done,” she said. “But my strength and all of me is at your disposal, Alan.”
The children were looking at him with wide, admiring eyes and yelling, “That’s our daddy! Big blond Green! He’s quick as a grass cat, bites like a dire dog and’ll spit poison in your eye, like a flying snake!”
Then, in the next moment, he was submerged under the men and women of the Clan, all anxious to congratulate him for his feat and to call him brother. The only ones who did not crowd around, trying to kiss him on the lips, were the officers of the Bird and the wife and children of the unfortunate sailor, Ezkr. These were climbing up the rigging to fasten a rope around his waist and lower him.