“With half the city to tear you down should you step upon the street?” he countered. Still his laser was aimed at my middle. There was no softening for my plight to be read on his face. The Free Traders are clansmen, with their ship their home. I was not of his brood.
“Tell me, Cargo Master”-I did not approach him, and now I must be a master bargainer indeed if I was to win my life “what have you heard of me?”
“That you spat upon one priest, slew another-“
“I am a gem trader, late apprentice to Vondar Ustle – you have heard that name?”
“I have heard. He travels far. What of it? Does that make your crime the less here in Koonga?”
“There was no crime.” How could I make the truth so plain he would believe me? “Do you think a man thrusts a rod into a yaeger-wasp nest and turns it deliberately, when he is in his right mind? We were in a tavern – the Sign of the Mottled Corby. Our business here was done, we had passage on the Voyringer. Then the Green Robes came in and set up that infernal spinning arrow of theirs. We thought we were in no danger, being off-worlders. When it stopped I swear it pointed between the two of us. Then the Robes moved in to take us-“
“Why?” I saw the disbelief in his eyes. “They do not play such games with off-worlders.”
“As we thought also, Cargo Master. Yet they did. And Vondar was knifed down when he tried to resist. I burned a priest and was near enough to the door to get free. I had heard of this sanctuary-so-“
“Tell me – what was Vondar Ustle’s hallmark? And it I have seen, I warn you.” That shot from his lips as a ray might have from his laser.
“A half-moon wrought in opal with the signet, between its horns, a Gryphon’s head in firestones.” I made prompt reply, though I wondered what this Free Trader would know of a master gemologist’s mark, which he would display for identification only to an equal in rank.
He nodded and slipped his laser into its holster. “What enemy did Ustle make here?”
That thought had plagued me also since I had had the time within this hole to think. For it was reasonable that, were a desire for revenge strong enough, my master might have been set up for such a kill. Though their demon was supposed to select his prey by chance alone, without aid from his servant priests, rumor suggested that he sometimes had assistance of mortal means, that a suitable gift to his shrine could produce a sacrifice which would please more than just the Green Robes and their lord. But there had been no clash with any local power. We had visited Hamzar, inspected his wares and purchased what Vondar thought good, exchanged trade gossip with him. There had been one visit to the nomads’ market and some dickering for uncut crystals out of the salt deserts, but both sides had been pleased with the deal. I could see no local tie-up with any trouble. And now, though I would have given much to be able to produce such a neat solution, I had to admit the truth.
“It need not have been of Tanth at all,” the Cargo Master replied. And he watched me as if I could then supply name and reason. A moment later, he continued. “Some strokes are aimed from longer distances. But- if you wish to take knife-oath for your master later, that is your affair. Always supposing you do come out alive. Now, what do you want of us? You say passage offworld – how?”
“How would you do it?” I countered. “I will pay well to lift in your ship, and for passage to the nearest planet with a second-stage port. And do not tell me” now I dared push a little; I could lose nothing by it, for my whole chance hung on the slenderest of threads “that you cannot get me forth if you wish. The will of the Free Traders is too well known.”
“We care for our own. You are not one of us.”
“You care for your cargo also. Then accept me as cargo – a profitable cargo.”
He suddenly smiled. “Cargo, is it?” Then his smile vanished and his eyes narrowed as he regarded me, as if by that gaze he could indeed transform me into a box or bale, to be stored in the hold of his ship. “You talk of profit?” he began, brisk again. “What sort of profit and how much?”
I turned away and sought my safe-belt. Then I showed him what I held and it took fire in the torchlight. Profit of a half year’s careful trading on my own – two of them matched as closely as anyone could hope to find – Eyes of Kelem. They were gold, and scarlet, with flecks of green deep in them. And if you looked upon them long, the color flowed. Not a fortune, no. But, offered in the proper market, worth a whole voyage for a trader who was only average lucky most of the time. They were my best and I knew he guessed that.
He did not try to bargain, or belittle my offering. Whether he did indeed have some half sympathy for my plight, I do not know. But he looked at the stones and then to me, nodding, holding forth his hand and closing it over them in a manner which showed that he knew the rules of our trade also. Free Traders are alert to any cargo and deal in many things.
“Come!”
I followed him out of that room, leaving my offering behind me on the guesting table. For I was satisfied that they had kept their part of the bargain. We were again in the hall where the torches blazed behind the face, but these were now quenched and I saw through the holes the light of day. The Cargo Master stooped and picked up a bundle lying there, shaking it out to show me a worn uniform tunic and the cap of a crewman.
“Put them on.”
I laughed, feeling a little lightheaded. “It would seem you came prepared,” I said as I pulled the tunic over my head and shoulders, sealed it at collar and belt. It was small for me, but not too much so.
“I was-“ He hesitated. “The news is loud. Ustle was known to our Captain. When the message came through he was enough interested to send me.”
The set of his jaw told me that that was all I would get out of him on the subject. But I was the more heartened by this evidence that he had come prepared to get me out – though I would still have liked to go through the door weapon in hand.
We were not, however, to go that way, for the Free Trader walked briskly to the wall on our left, slapped his hand against it. Though that touch could not have moved the heavy stone, it swung inward, disclosing another narrow way, and he stepped confidently into that, leaving me to follow. When the stone swung back behind us, we were left in a thick dark, reminding me unpleasantly of the alleys through which I had earlier fled.
It was a very narrow passage, our shoulders brushing wall on either side. I bumped into my guide, who had stopped short. There was a click and then a blaze of bright light.
“Come!” He reached out a hand to pull me after him. I blinked and screwed up my eyes against the assault of that brilliant sun. We were in another alley, piled along the wall with containers of refuse. Things scuttled in the slime under our boots and my guide swore roundly as he kicked out at something which hissed at him. Six strides, as long and fast as we could make them, brought us into another and much cleaner byway. I had to fight my desire to run, or to look about me for attackers. It was necessary to put on the cloak of unconcern and match my pace to the Cargo Master’s.
Then we were through the gates of the port. As I had thought, the Voyringer had lifted and only the trader remained, fins down, on the blast-scorched ground. The Cargo Master caught at my sleeve.
“Trouble- maybe-“
But I had already sighted that blaze of bright robes around the ship. There was a reception committee waiting. Perhaps just on the general principle that a hunted off-worlder would make for the only ship left.
“Drunk- you’re an off-ship drunk!” The Cargo Master hissed at me in a sound much like that made by the alley scavenger. “This ought to do it !” I saw the blow coming, but I was totally unprepared to dodge it. A blast of pain spread from my jaw, and I must have gone down and out in the same moment, for there my memories of Tanth come to an abrupt stop.