Trullion: Alastor 2262 (13 page)

The teams returned to base deployment. Lord Gensifer, angry from his long confinement in the foul tank, declared, “Rash, too rash tactics! When a team is two rings down, the guards should never move so far past the moat-that’s one of Kalenshenko’s first dictums!”

“We took their ring,” said Lucho, the most outspoken man on the team. “That’s the important matter.”

“Regardless,” said Lord Gensifer in a steely voice, we will continue to play a sound basic game. They have the light; we’ll use the Number 4 Feint.” Lucho was not to be silenced. “Let’s simply mass on the moat. We don’t need traps or feints or fancy tactics simply basic play!”

“This is a hussade game,” declared Lord Gensifer, “not a gang-fight. We’ll show ’em tactics that will make their heads swim.”

The Gannets charged the moat with reckless verve; Denzel Warhound clearly intended to forestall the Gorgon tactics of the previous period. Gannets leaped the moat all across the field, while Denzel Warhound planted his hange on the center bridge, from which he could be dislodged only by Lord Gensifer. Right wing Cherst tanked the Gannet rover and was tanked in turn; Glinnes was forced to guard the right sideway.

Green light. “Forty-five-twelve!” cried Lord Gensifer. “This time, lads! Show them class!”

“I think we’ll be showing them something else,” Glirmes told Wilmer Guff. “Namely, Zuranie. “He’s the captain.”

“So then — here we go.” Denzel Warhound might have been anticipating this exact play. His forwards returned to trap Glinnes, and again he was tanked by a swinging rover; Lucho met a similar fate on the opposite side. Together they made the best possible haste to the ladder, only to hear the Treevanyi orchestra break into the Ode to Beauty Jubilant. “And there we have it,” said Glinnes.

They surfaced in time to see Denzel Warhound on the pedestal, his hand on the gold ring. Zuranie looked up into the sky with a dazed expression. “Where is your money? Five hundred ozols will save your shierl; five hundred ozols for her pride is this so dear?”

“I’d pay it,” Glinnes remarked to Wilmer Guff, “except that it would be money thrown away. Lord Gensifer would run me back and forth through his double-diagonal till I drowned.”

The music surged loud-stately cadences which tickled the hair at the nape of the neck and brought a dryness to the mouth. From the crowd came a soft sound, a fluting of exaltation. Zuranie’s face was frozen in a white mask-impossible to guess her emotions. The music halted. A low-voiced gong sounded-once, twice, three times and the captain pulled the ring. Zuranie’s gown came away; her shrinking flesh was exposed on the pedestal.

At the opposite end of the field Sheirl Baroba Felice performed an impromptu jig of delight and jumped down into the arms of the Gannets, who now departed the field. Lord Gensifer silently brought a black velvet cloak to cover Zuranie; the Gorgons also departed the field.

In the dressing room Lord Gensifer bravely broke the silence. “Well, men, this wasn’t our day — so much is clear. The Gannets are a far better team than is supposed; their speed was a bit too much for us. Everybody out to Gensifer Manor. We won’t call it a victory celebration, but we’ll test the color of some good Sokal wine.”

At Gensifer Manor, Lord Gensifer regained his composure. He circulated affably among those of his aristocratic friends who had visited the Saurkash Stadium to watch him at his latest fad. Around the loaded buffets, under the glitter of the antique chandeliers, beside the magnificent collection of Rol Star gonfalons, the banter played back and forth.

“Never expected such speed from you, Thammas, till you went to denude that bouncy little Gannet shierl!”

“Ha ha! Yes, I’m a real pacer where the ladies are concerned!”

“We’ve long known Thammas to be a great sportsman, but why oh why did the Gorgons take their only ring while he sat in the tank?”

“Resting, Jonas, only resting. Why work when you can sit in nice cool water?”

“Good group, Thammas, good group. Your lads do you credit. Keep them up to snuff.”

“Oh I will, sir, I will. No fear of that”

The Gorgons themselves stood somewhat stiffly to the side, or perched on the delicate jadewood furniture, sipping wines they had never before tasted, giving monosyllabic answers to the questions put by Lord Gensifer’s friends. Lord Gensifer finally came up and spoke to them, by now in a benign mood. “Well then-no recriminations, no reproaches. I’ll state only the obvious: I see room for improvement, and by the stars — here Lord Gensifer raised his arms to the ceiling in the posture of an outraged Zeus — we’ll achieve it. From the forwards, I’ll have more snap and dash. From the rovers, decisive buffing, quicker reactions! Did your feet hurt today, rovers? So it seemed. From the guards, more ferocity, more dependability. When the enemy confronts our guards, I want them to think only of home and mother. Any remarks?”

Glinnes looked off and up into the air and thoughtfully sipped pale-green Sokal wine from his goblet.

Lord Gensifer continued. “Our next opponents are the Tanchinaros; we meet them in two weeks at Saurkash Stadium. I’m sure that events will go differently. I’ve watched them; they’re slow as Dido’s one-legged grandmother. We’ll simply stroll around them to the pedestal. We’ll take their money and bare their sheirl, and be off and gone like Welshmen.”

“Speaking of money,” drawled Candolf, “how much is our treasure after today’s fiasco? Also, who is our sheirl?”

“The treasure will be two thousand ozols, said Lord Gensifer coldly. “The sheirl might be any of several delightful creatures anxious to share our ascendancy.” Lucho said, “The Tanchinaros are slow up front, but with guards like Gilweg, Etzing, Barreu, and Shamoran, the forwards could play in wheel chairs.”

Lord Gensifer waved the remark aside. “A good team plays it own game and forces the enemy to react. The Tanchinaro guards are only flesh and bone. We’ll tank them so often they’ll think they’re tanchinaros in sheer reality!”

“A toast to this!” called out Chaim, Lord Shadrak. “To eleven dripping-wet Tanchinaros and their bare-bottomed sheirl!”

Tanchinaro; a black and silver fish of the Far South Ocean.

After Lord Gensifer’s party, Glinnes went to spend the night with Tyran Lucho, who lived on Altramar Island, a few miles east of Five Islands, with the South Ocean a quarter mile south across a lagoon and a line of sand spits. A white beach was the Lucho front yard. Glinnes and Tyran arrived to find a star-watch in progress. Over a pair of soft red fires crabs, crayfish, sea-bulbs, pentabrachs, sourweed and a mix of smaller sea-stuffs grilled and sizzled. Kegs of beer had been broached; a table supported coarse crusty loaves, fruits and conserves. Thirty folk of all ages ate, drank, sang, played guitars and mouth-calliopes, romped in the sand, addressed themselves to someone they intended to lure up the beach later in the evening. Glinnes felt instantly at ease, in contrast to the restraint he had felt at Lord Gensifer’s party, where the jocularity had been on a more formal level. Here were; those Trills despised by Fanscherade-undisciplined, frivolous, gluttonous, amorous, some unkempt and dirty, others, merely unkempt. Children played erotic games, and adults as well; Glinnes observed several noticeably under the influence of cauch! Each person wore those garments he deemed appropiate; a stranger might have thought himself at a fancy-dress charade. Tyran Lucho, conditioned and disciplined by hussade, used garments and manners less flamboyant; still, like Glinnes, he relaxed gratefully upon the sand with a mug of beer and a chino-leaf of grilled sea-meats. The party was nominally a “star-watch”; the air was soft and the stars hung close like great paper lanterns. But a mood of revelry was on the group and there would be small pondering of the stars this night.

Tyran Lucho had played with teams of reputation. On the field he was regarded as a taciturn man of great skill and almost alone in his ability to break down the field through an apparently impervious front of opponents-dodging, feinting, swinging from way to way, or swinging out and snapping himself back, a trick which sometimes persuaded opponents to the ludicrous act of tanking themselves. Along with Wild Man Wilmer Guff, Lucho had been represented on Lord Gensifer’s original dream-team. Glumes settled himself beside Lucho and the two discussed the day’s game. “Essentially,” said Glinnes, ”we’re sound forward-with the exception of Clubfoot Chust-and pitifully weak back-field.”

“True. Savat has excellent potential. Unfortunately, Tammi confuses him and he doesn’t know whether to run forward or back.” “Tammi” was the team’s jocular term for Thammas Lord Gennsifer.”

“Agreed,” said Glinnes. “Even Sarkado is at least adequate, though he’s really too indecisive to make a good team.”

“To win,” said Lucho, “we need a back-field, but even more urgently we need a captain. Tammi doesn’t know which direction he’s going.”

“Unfortunately it’s his team.”

“But it’s our time and our profit!” declared Lucho with a vehemence that surprised Glinnes. “Also our reputation. It does a man no good to play with a set of buffoons.”

“First of all,” said Glinnes, “a man tends to relax his own standards of play.”

“I’ve been thinking the matter over. I left the Poldan Avengers so that I could live at home, and I thought perhaps Lord Gensifer could field a team. But he’ll never do so if he insists on running the team as if it were his private toy.”

“Still, he’s captain; who’d play his position? What about you? Lucho shook his head. “I don’t have the patience. What about you?”

“I prefer to play strike. Candolf is pretty sound.”

“He’s possible, in a pinch. But I’ve got a better man in mind — Denzel Warhound.

Glinnes considered. “He’s smart and he’s quick, and he doesn’t mind contact. He’d be a good one. How strong a Gannet is he?”

“He wants to play. The Gannets don’t have a home stadium; theirs is a very makeshift operation. Warhound would switch if a good opportunity came up.”

Glinnes emptied his mug of beer. ”Tammi would lay an egg if he knew what we’re talking about … Who is the pretty girl in the white smock? I ache to see her so lonely.”

“She’s second cousin to my brother’s wife. Her name is Thaio and she’s very sympathetic.”

“I’ll just go ask her if she wants to be a sheirl.

“She’ll say that up till the age of nine this was her dearest ambition.

The teams formed in ranks for the parade and the shierls came forth: for the Tanchinaros, Filene Sadjo, a fresh faced fisherman’s daughter from Far Spinney; For the Gorgons, Karue Liriant, a tall dark haired girl with a sumptuous figure, evedint even under the classic folds of her white gown. Lord Gensifer had kept her identity a mystery until the team meeting three days before the game. Karue Liriant had not tried to make herself popular — a bad omen in itself. Still, Karue Liriant was only the least factor disruptive of morale.The left side guard, Ramos, annoyed by Lord Gensifer’s criticisms, had quit the team. ”It’s not that I’m so expert”, he told Lord Gensifer, “It’s just that you’re so much worse. I should be
ki-yik-yik-yikking
at you rather then you
ki-yikking
at me.”

“Off the field with you!“ barked Lord Gensifer. ”If you hadn’t quit, I would send you down in any case.”

“Bah,” said Ramos. “If you sent down all those complaining you’d be playing by yourself.”

The question of replacement arose during post-practice refreshment. “Here’s an idea to help the team,” Lucho told Lord Gensifer. “Suppose you were to play guard, as you’re well able to do; you’re big enough and obstinate enough. Then I know a man who’d make us a very able captain indeed.”

“Oh?” said Lord Gensifer frostily. “And who is this paragon?”

“Denzel Warhound, now with the Gannets.”

Lord Gensifer took pains to control his voice. “It might be simpler and less disruptive merely to recruit a new guard.” Lucho had no more to say. The new guard appeared at the next practice session, a man even less capable than Ramos. The Gorgons, therefore, came to play the Tanchinaros in less than an optimum frame of mind.

After circling the field, the two teams pulled down their helmets to accomplish that always startling metamorphosis of men into heroic demiurges, each assuming in some degree the quality of the mask. For the first time Glinnes saw the Tanchinaro masks; they were striking affairs of silver and black, with red and violet plumes-the Tanchinaros made a fine display as they took the field. As expected, the Tanchinaros were strong and massive. “A team of ten guards and a fat old man,” as Carbo Gilweg had expressed it. The “fat old man” was Captain Nilo Neronavy, who never left the protective radius of his hange, and whose plays were as forthright as Lord Gensifer’s were intricate and confusing. Glinnes anticipated no difficulties in defense; the Tanchinaro forwards were inept on the trapeze, and the swift Gorgon front line could play them one at a time. Offense was a different matter. Glinnes, had he been captain, would have drawn them in and out-to one side, then another-until a path flickered open for a lightning lunge by one of the forwards. He doubted if Lord Gensifer would use this strategy, or even if he could control the team well enough to orchestrate the quick feints and ploys.

The Gorgons won the green light. The gong sounded; the light flashed green; the game was on. “Twelve-ten, ki-yik!“ cried Lord Genssifer, thrusting the forwards and rovers to the moat with the guards advancing two stations. “Thirteen-eight!” — a thrust at the side passages by wings and rovers, with strikes ready to jump the moat. So far, so good. The next call almost on the instant should be,“Eight-thirteen”, signifying rovers across and forwards in a feint to the left. The rovers crossed the moat; the Tanchinaro forwards hesitated, and now there was time for a swift attack on the Tanchinaro right wing. But Lord Gensifer vacillated; the forwards recovered, the rovers recrossed the moat, and the light shone red.

So the game went for fifteen minutes. Two Tanchinaro forwards were tanked on offense but were able to return to the field before the Gorgons could exploit the advantage. Lord Gensifer became impatient and tried a new tactic-precisely that play which Glinnes had used to score against the Gannets, and which was quite inappropriate against the Tanchinaros. As a result, all four forwards, a rover, and Lord Gensifer himself were tanked, and the Tanchinaros marched down the field to an easy ring. Lord Gensifer paid over a thousand ozols ransom.