The Golden Sword (18 page)

There was a score of jiasks crowding into the apprei, though I had not seen them gather.

Chayin reached down to the headless corpse and cut the chald from it with his blade. He wrapped the reigning chald of Menetph around his fist and turned to the jiasks, frozen in horror and uncertainty at the grisly scene.

“Greet your new cahndor, men of Menetph! And go from here and spread the word. Aknet wagered me Menetph, and I will collect my debt.”

“It is true,” stated the male witness, and I added my own affirmation.

“Clear the way,” Chayin demanded, and the men opened a path through their midst. Chayin held out his hand to me, and I ran to take it. It was the hand around which he had wound the chald of Aknet. I expected any moment to feel a blade between my shoulders as we walked among the Menetphers, but such did not occur.

“This is one chald,” he whispered in my ear as we passed the last staring men of Menetph, “that I have long been willing to bear.” And he nibbled my ear as we passed out of that area and toward the food vendors’ awnings.

“You could not possibly want to eat!” I objected.

“Just a drink to celebrate.” He was happier than I had ever seen him. By the time we stood among the vendors, I had spotted the M’ksakkan ship, not a small hover but a great golden friysou’s wing of a craft, glinting in the first rays of the rising sun. It sat upon the track, near the threx pavilions.

Chayin purchased some kifra, and I was glad for it to wipe the taste of my sickness from my mouth. When I was done, he tilted the bladder back and drank prodigiously, emptying the bladder and tossing it to the ground. He slapped me on the rump.

“Let us be off to greet the M’ksakkans,” he suggested, pulling me by the hand at a half-run. He seemed much younger, then, flushed with victory, and sure of himself.

“That is no small show of power, that ship,” I remarked to him as we threaded through the thickening crowd that browsed among the threx fitters’ stands. “I have beheld such in Port Astrin. See you that golden network? I have seen pictures of such craft in deep space, with sails unfurled, and that network abillow with the winds between worlds. They seldom land them, though such a ship may drift like a hover upon gravitic lines of force.”

“Shall we take it and sail the seas of space?” Chayin suggested.

I shuddered. “Leave me the ground under my feet, cahndor.”

“It was just a thought.” We reached the track’s edge. Chayin stopped and took from his belt a uris pouch and partook of it. I did likewise. Upon the track were three knots of men, at varying distances from the M’ksakkan ship.

“Put upon you the tiask’s mask, and show the medallion you wear,” Chayin ordered.

I did as he bid me, lifting the golden uritheria from between my breasts so that it rested on the leather breastband, and securing the tiask’s mask about my head. The uris blew a coldness about my eyes, and my jaws ached already from the excitement it heaped upon my frayed central nervous system.

“How do I look?” I asked him, feeling stiff and restrained by the mask.

“Like a respectable tiask, albeit a small and unusually soft one,” he said.

As we approached the first knot of men, they spread into a line before us. The M’Ksakkan crew members were uniformed in black and brown, and were pale and slight. They stood spread-legged and uneasy as we approached them. As sentries, they were less than formidable, but the small oblongs of star steel each carried more than made up for their physical deficiencies. They did not make way for us.

“Show cause, that you may pass,” said a golden-haired man no taller
_.
than I, in clumsy Parset from tight lips, his hand upon his weapon.

Chayin threw back his cloak and extended his arms, that all might see the marks of his godhood upon him. The blond M’ksakkan waved his men back, and we passed through without comment, toward the groups gathered before the ship in the new day’s light. As I watched, one figure detached itself and hurried toward us, and two walked at a more leisurely pace behind the first, their forms red-limned in the dawn.

“You slitsa!” howled Jaheil, pounding Chayin upon the back so that he staggered. “Convincing, indeed, is the cahndor of Nemar! What will you do with Menetph? Will you take up the sea, now that you have a port city? Coseve and Itophe are understandably unnerved, positioned so precariously in the middle.” He lowered his voice for this last. “I have reassured them, but you yourself must speak of your plans.” And it was obvious that Jaheil himself was unsettled, and felt the need also of some reassurance, for Dordassa lies conjunct the southern boundaries of Nemar, and would be first struck if Chayin’s intent was one of continued expansion.

“Have you fear of me, Jaheil? I thought us better acquainted. I will set a regent in Menetph, later. Now we must divest ourselves of these intruders.” He waved his hand toward the alien ship, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he awaited the two remaining cahndors of the Parset Lands.

When the green-clad cahndor of Coseve and his companion in the gray of Itophe were before us, Chayin repeated what he had said to Jaheil. The tension in the yellow eyes of Omas of Coseve was not noticeably eased, nor was the stiff carriage of the light-skinned Locaer of Itophe relaxed by Chayin’s reassurance.

“Speak, then, for all of us, Chayin,” said the flame-haired cahndor of Itophe. “For we bow to your will in this affair.”

“No, Locaer. Each must speak for his own. I can only adjure you to reject the alien’s offer. Neither Menetph nor Dordassa nor Nemar will treat with the star men, for reasons Jaheil has made clear to you. It is your choice, each of you.”

“And if we should choose to avail ourselves of the M’ksakkan weaponry and aid them in return? What will you do?” demanded Omas of Coseve, biting his dark full lips with his teeth.

“If you take up the star weapons,” reasoned Chayin, “you might be able to withstand the attack that would fall upon you from the north and south.”

“The dhareners are greatly agitated. They may not let you keep Menetph. They are saying it is too much power for one man, and they like not the seeds of empire you sow,” added Locaer, his hands at his sword belt, nervous, ever-moving.

“Let them try to divest me of it,” Chayin growled, baring his teeth. And at that moment the keening of the Menetpher death wail came to us upon the wind, which blew ever stronger, and from somewhere in the Menetphers’ appreis a gong tolled the years of Aknet’s life. Sand stung my naked arms, and dust whorls danced upon the track’s raked surface.

The cahndors regarded each other for a time in silence. Chayin was the first to break it, with a word to me, and we walked ahead of the three cahndors, straight to the five dhareners and past them with only a curt nod to Hael and his companions, resplendent in their diverse Day-Keepers’ formal wear, to stop before three in the black-and-gold knit coveralls of M’ksakkan Liaisons. I could feel Hael’s eyes upon my back.

The faces of the M’ksakkans bore the same shadow that had been upon the faces of the cahndors, and upon those Day-Keepers who stood to our right. News had doubtless reached them.

I heard Jaheil, Omas, and Locaer come up behind us. The Liaisons waited, as custom dictated, for Chayin to speak. He did not, immediately, but scrutinized them so thoroughly that one turned a reddish color and the other two could find no comfortable place to rest either eyes or hands. Jaheil, behind me, cleared his throat. The dhareners soundlessly closed around us. When I thought my eardrums would burst from the quiet, Chayin gave them imperious greeting.

“You stand before me,” he allowed.

“It is our honor to do so,” said the tallest of the three, whose hair and skin were the same shade of tan. Not only did he speak flawless Parset, but he neatly avoided direct obeisance without giving offense. I felt Chayin stiffen. He rested his right hand upon his hip and spat deliberately close to the M’ksakkan’s shiny black boot. The M’ksakkan took no notice.

“I am M’kai, Liaison Fourth to Yardum-Or,” he introduced himself. “This is the Liaison of Liaisons, who has traveled the seas between the stars to meet with you. Har-sai M’Erris, the cahndor of Nemar, Chayin rendi Inkete.” The blond man indicated put out a freckled hand, which Chayin did not meet with his.

“And of Menetph, am I also cahndor,” said Chayin. M’Erris let his hand fall to his side.

“And may I introduce your couch-mate?” asked the Liaison Fourth, to smooth things over. Chayin had the chald of Menetph in his hands, and he played with it deliberately.

“You might if she were here. This is Estri, Tiaskchan of Nemar, and temporary regent of Menetph.” The insult was not lost upon the Liaison Fourth. The M’ksakkan’s face grew pale, and he raked his hand through his hair.

“Cahndor, tiask, this is Fer-En M’Ras, who would be Liaison between my people and yours.” The man nodded cautiously to Chayin, not willing to risk his hand. He had a harth beak of a nose, and his eyes were mere slits upon either side of it.

“I doubt that such a position will be established. Perhaps you were premature to fill it,” Chayin said.

The Liaison Fourth looked like a man forced to choose between two equally torturous deaths.

“Perhaps I could speak with you and your regent alone?”

“Perhaps,” Chayin said.

Rapidly M’Kai introduced the two off-worlders to the remaining cahndors, then invited us to follow him up the steel ramp into the M’ksakkan ship. We entered the small cubical chamber, and the Liaison Fourth waved a tan hand over a red glowing light. The steel door slid soundlessly shut, cutting us off from the outside. My stomach rose and fell as the M’ksakkan punched out his destination and the lift shot upward. Lights chased each other across the control panel, steadied, and the clur slid aside. We emerged into a round room the walls of which were viewers filled with Frullo jer. I saw the three small springs that watered the jer, the appreis spread like tiny yris-tera pieces upon the ground far below.

Chayin paid no attention, though he was surely less familiar with M’ksakkan technology than I. He sat himself down upon the floor, ignoring the Aquastan contour lounges, and motioned to the Liaison Fourth to seat himself opposite. The tanned man did so, with obvious unease. Friends never sit opposite in the Parset Lands. I did not sit, but leaned against the wall at Chayin’s side, trying to control my feelings in this M’ksakkan place.

“Would you refresh yourself, Cahndor?” queried M’Kai.

“No. Speak that which you would to me.” Chayin gave the M’ksakkan no title.

“We have but moments before the others arrive. I beg you to consider our proposals. Your people could reap a great benefit.”

“Are you born of woman or test tube?” Chayin asked, and the M’ksakkan flinched.

“Of woman,” he answered. “Your point is well taken. Most of the benefits have been in the past for the Federate group, but we would change this and give you that which would make life easier for you: great ships to sail the skies, wonders of distant worlds, and the capacity to visit them.” These things he offered Chayin were specifically forbidden by the agreement made between the Day-Keepers and the M’ksakkans at first contact. No weapons were to be brought upon Silistra for Silistran sale, and no vehicles of any kind were to be upon the planet except for the Liaisons’ use. Not even off-world tourists could ride hovers through our air.

“What need have I for these things?” Chayin demanded. “I have no hurry. How long did your mother live?”

The M’ksakkan sighed. “She is still living. She is seven hundred and forty M’ksakkan years old. My grandmother, test-tube born, lives still also. And my great-grandmother died of natural causes at age ninety-seven, before Silistra was brought into Federate Group. We acknowledge our debt to you. But there are a great many more worlds that have not yet had the serums, where men still die after a handful of years. We would spread your fame and your generosity upon these worlds, give the gift of life to those who have not yet received it.”

“For one with such altruistic motives, you have proceeded in a very unseemly fashion. Do you deny that you aided Menetph against Nemar?”

“No, I do not deny it. It was not my decision, nor would I have approved it if I had known. The Liaison of Liaisons was precipitous in his actions. He knows little of—” And the steel doors opened to admit the two M’ksakkans and the three remaining cahndors, who looked about them with unconcealed amazement. Jaheil, staring out the view wall, backed into a pedestaled Torth sculpture and cursed loudly as it fell and shattered upon the star-steel floor. The Fourth was up to soothe him, and soon had them seated upon the lounges all in a circle. Then he came back to us and in a whisper begged Chayin to join them.

This the cahndor was willing to do, and I followed his lead, perching myself on the edge of one of the recurved chairs, which gave it much consternation as it tried to form to me. The harder I tried to maintain my edge seat, the more the lounge lurched and rolled in an effort to enfold my backside. I battled it for a few moments and then stood up again. Chayin reached out to me and set me on his lap, worldless. The Liaison of Liaisons was speaking.

Har-sai M’Erris spoke eloquently and at length to the cahndors of responsibility to galactic society and the recompense the M’ksakkans would offer for access to an additional three shiploads of serums per Silistran year. He intimated to us that if we would but allow them to do the cultivation and refinement themselves upon Silistra (and in the process teach them how), that even greater rewards would be ours. He spoke of galactic commerce, planetary gains; how anxious the Federate Group was to welcome Silistra as full-privileged among them. I watched him dig himself deeper and deeper into a pit of his own prejudices. The Liaison Fourth’s expression became more hopeless the longer the M’ksakkan leader spoke.

The M’ksakkan seated himself. Omas, most interested of the cahndors, looked truly troubled. The Fourth asked us to voice our questions, hesitantly and with obvious trepidation.

I could not resist. They did not know me. “What could you give me, that I do not already possess, M’Erris? I have weapons enough and time upon my side.
In
my hundredth year I had sufficient wealth gathered around me to feel secure. I need not one more bauble or pelt, and I want no machines about me. Can you give me peace of mind? Can you give me the enlightenment I seek? Can you free me from my body’s bondage, from my mind’s quandary? It seems to me we seek different ends. If you must, bury yourselves in your profits and losses. The desert is not in need of an additional million grains of sand.” I could feel Chayin chuckling.