there and explain just how unhappy we are to certain people.’
‘i’m in favor of it, myself,’ Caalador said to Bevier.
‘It’s tactically sound,’ Bevier admitted, ‘but – uh – Col here
doesn’t have any way to call for help if he gets in trouble.’
‘I won’t need any help, because I’m not going to do anything
out of the ordinary. I’m going anyway, Shallag, so don’t waste
your breath trying to talk me out of it.’
Senga came across the littered camp. ‘The cart’s all loaded,
Col,’ he called. ‘Are you about ready?’
Kalten stood up. ‘Any time you are, Senga,’ he replied, pulling
his half-cooked chicken off the spit and going to join his newfound
friend. ‘i’m getting bored just sitting here counting trees.’
It took the two of them about three hours to reach Natayos,
since there is no real way to hurry an ox. The trail was fairly well
traveled, and it wound around through the jungle, following the
course of least resistance.
‘There it is,’ Senga said as the cart jolted through a ford that
crossed a narrow stream. He pointed across the stump-dotted
clearing at an ancient city, a ruin so old that the passage of
centuries had rounded down the very stones. ‘Stay close to me
when we get there, Col. There are a couple of places we have
to keep away from. There’s one building right near the gate that
they really don’t want anybody to go near.’
‘Oh?’ ~alten said, squinting at the mossy ruin ahead. ‘What’s
inside that makes them so touchy?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea, and I’m not curious enough to risk
my health by asking. ‘
‘Maybe the building’s their treasure house,’ Kalten speculated. ‘i
f this army’s as big as you say, they’ve probably picked
up quite a bit of loot.’
Senga shrugged. ‘It could be, I suppose, but I’m not going to
fight all those guards just to find out. We’re here to sell beer,
Col. We’ll get a goodly share of their treasure that way, and it’s
not as risky.’
‘But it’s so honest,’ Kalten objected, grinning. ‘isn’t honest
work immoral for people like us?’
Senga laughed and tapped the ox’s rump with the long, slender
stick he carried. The creaking cart jolted over the uneven
ground toward the moldering walls.
‘Nor Senga!’ one of the slovenly guards at the gate greeted
Kalten’s friend. ‘What kept you? It’s been as dry as a plate of
sand since the last time you left. ‘
“you feRows are overworking my brewer,’ Senga replied. ‘He
canm’t keep up with the demand. We have to let the beer age a
little while before you drink it. Green beer does funny things to
a man’s guts.”
‘You haven’t raised your prices again, have you?’
‘No. Same price as before.’
‘Ten times what you paid for the beer in the first place, I’ll
wager.’
‘Oh, not quite that much. Where do you want me to set
uP?’
‘Same place as last time. I’ll pass the word, and they’ll start
lining up.’
‘I want some guards this time, Mondra,’ Senga told him. ‘I
don’t want another riot when the last cask runs dry the way
there was last week.’
‘i’ll see to it. Save some for me.’
The ox-cart clattered through the gate and into a wide street
where most of the moss had been worn off the coblestones. A
great deal of work had clearly taken place here in Natayos in
the past few years. The squared-off stones of the broken walls
had been rather carelessly re-stacked and then shored up with
peeled log braces. Long-vanished roofs had been replaced with
crude thatching made of tree-limbs, providing nesting sites for
raucous tropical birds, and here and there blackened piles of
half-burned trees and bushes marked the places where indifferent
workmen had attempted to dispose of the mountains of
brush that had been cleared from the streets and houses. The
men living here lounged idly in the streets. There were Elenes
from Astel, Edam, and Daconia, as well as Arjuni and Cymesgans.
They were a roughly dressed, unshaven lot who showed
no signs that they even knew the meaning of the word
‘discipline’.
‘What price are you getting for this?’ Kalten asked, patting
one of the beer barrels in the cart.
‘A penny a gill,’ Senga replied.
‘That’s outrageous!’
‘They don’t have to buy it,’ Senga shrugged. ‘Get the money
before you start to pour. Don’t take promises.’
‘You’ve put my moral qualms to rest, Senga,’ Kalten laughed.
‘At that price, this is hardly honest.’
‘There’s that building I was telling you about.’
Kalten tried to look casual as he turned to stare at the substantial
-looking ruin. ‘They really don’t want anybody to look into
that place,’ he said. ‘Those bars on the windows make it look
like a jail.’
‘Not quite, Col. Those bars are there to keep people out, not
in.’
Kalten grunted, still staring intently at the building. The
barred windows had panes of glass in them, cheap, cloudy glass
that had been poorly installed. Drapes on the inside cut off any
possibility of seeing anything or anyone who might be in there.
There were guards at the door and other guards stationed at
every corner. Kalten wanted to howl with frustration. The gentle
girl who had become the center of his life was possibly no more
than twenty Yards away, but she might as well have been on
the other side of the moon, and even if she were to look out
through that clouded glass she would not recognize his altered
features.
Senga paid the guards in the square with beer, and then he and
his friend got down to work. Scarpa’s rebels were rowdy, shouting
and laughing, but they were generally in a good humor. They
lined up in an orderly fashion and came to the rear of the cart two
by two, where Senga and Kalten fiLled their containers with the
amber beer. There were a few arguments about the capacity of
the assorted tankards, jugs, and pails, but Senga’s word on the
subject was final, and anyone who objected too loudly was sent
back to the end of the line to think things over for an hour or so
while he worked his way back to the front again.
It was after the two entrepreneurs had drained the last barrel
and sent the disappointed late-comers away that Kalten saw a
familiar figure come weaving across the mossy square toward
the ox-cart. Krager was not wearing well. His head was shaved
and as pale as a fish-belly, and his dissipated face was eroded
by decades of hard drinking. His clothing, though obviously
expensive, was wrinkled and filthy. He shook continually with
a palsied tremor that ran through him in waves.
‘I don’t suppose you brought any wine,’ he asked Senga
hopefully.
‘Not much call for it,’ Senga told him, re-fastening the tail-gate
of the cart. ‘Most of these fellows want beer.’
‘Do you know any place where you can get wine?’
‘I can ask around. What’s your preference?’
‘Arcian red, if you can find any.’
Senga whistled. ‘That will cost you, my friend. I could probably
chase down some of the local reds for you, but the imported
stuff – that’s going to take a big bite out of your purse.’
Krager smirked at him. ‘It’s no problem,’ he said in his slurred
voice. ‘i’m what you might call independently wealthy at the
moment. These local reds taste like pig-swill. I want real wine.’
‘It might take a while,’ Senga told him dubiously. ‘i’ve got
contacts in Delo that might be able to find some for you, but
Delo’s a long way off.’
‘When are you coming back?’
‘A couple of days. The brewery where I buy this slop’s running
day and night, but I still can’t keep up.’
‘Bring me a couple of barrels of the local pig-swill then enough
to tide me over until you can find me some Arcian red.’
‘You can count on me,’ Senga assured him. He gave Krager
a hard look. ‘i’ll need something in advance, though. I’ll have
to buy the Arcian red before I can sell it to you. I’m doing fairly
well, but I’m not that rich yet.’
Krager fumbled for his purse.
Kalten was suddenly gripped by an almost intolerable
impatience. He was sure now that Alcan was here. Krager’s
presence virtually confirmed it. The prisoners were most likely
being held in the building with barred windows. He absolutely
had to get back to Narstil’s camp so that Bevier could pass the
word on to Aphrael. If Xanetia could enter Natayos unseen, she
could either penetrate the prison walls or reach into Krager’s
wine-sodden mind to verify what was almost a certainty now.
If all went well, it would be no more than a few days until he
and Sparhawk were reunited with the women they loved. Then
they could all come here and do unpleasant things to the people
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