Trullion: Alastor 2262 (15 page)

“And wear a grey uniform and give up hussade and star-watching? By no means. I don’t care whether I achieve anything or not. As for your college, if you laid it down on the meadow you’d spoil my view. Look at the light on the water yonder; look at the color in the trees! Suddenly it seems as if your talk of ’achievement’ and ’meaning’ is sheer vanity — the pompous talk of small boys.”

Junius Farfan laughed. “I’ll agree to vanity, along with arrogance, egocentricity, elitism, whatever you wish. No one has claimed otherwise, any more than Jan Dublays claimed mortification of the flesh when he wrote The Rose in the Gargoyle’s Teeth.”

“In other words,” said Akadie gently, “Fanscherade deftly turns the force inherent in human vice to presumably useful ends.”

“Abstract discussions are entertaining,” remarked Junius Farfan, “but we must keep ourselves focused upon dynamic, rather than static, processes. Do you agree to Glay’s proposal?”

“That Rabendary be turned into a Fanscherade madhouse? Of course not! Have you people no soul? Look out over this landscape! There’s ample human achievement in the universe, but not nearly enough beauty. Establish your academy somewhere out on the lava beds, or back of the Broken Hills. Not here.”

Junius Farfan rose to his feet. “We’ll bid you good-day.” He picked up the envelope. Glinnes reached forward; Glay’s hand clamped his wrist. Farfan placidly tucked the envelope in his pocket.

Glay drew back with a wolfish grin. Glinnes leaned forward, muscles tense. Junius Farfan watched him soberly. Glinnes relaxed. Farfan’s gaze was steady and sure, and disconcerting.

Akadie said, “I’ll stay here with Glinnes; he’ll ferry me home after a bit.”

“As you will,” said Farfan. He and Glay went to their boat, and after a last appraisal of Rabendary Meadow, the two departed.

“There’s something downright insolent about that proposal,” said Glinnes through gritted teeth. “Do they take me for a dunderhead, to be fleeced so easily?”

“They are absolutely sure in their purpose,” said Akadie. “Perhaps you mistake assurance for insolence… Agreed, the qualities sometimes converge. Still, neither Glay nor Junius Farfan is an insolent man. Farfan indeed is extraordinarily bland. Glay would appear somewhat remote, but still, all in all, a true-hearted fellow.”

Glinnes could hardly control his indignation. “When they cheat me from eight directions and steal my property? Your concepts need reexamination. Akadie signified that the matter lacked consequence. “I looked in at the hussade game yesterday. I must say that I was greatly diverted, though the play was not altogether precise. Hussade is intensely an interaction between personalities; no one game is ever like another. I might even believe that the masks are unconsciously recognized as a necessity, to prevent personalities from dominating the game.”

“In hussade anything might be true. I know that I can’t abide Lord Gensifer’s personality, to such effect that I’ll be playing with the Tanchinaros.”

Aladie nodded sagely. “I chanced to meet Lord Gensifer this morning, in Voulash of all places, at the Placid Valley Inn. Over a cup of tea he mentioned that he had released several players for insubordination.”

“Insubordination?” Glinnes snorted, “More accurately, for outright disgust. What did he want in Voulash? Mind you, the question is casual. I don’t care to pay a fee.”

Akadie spoke with dignity. “Lord Gensifer was discussing hussade with some of the Voulash Gannets. I believe that he induced several of them to join the Gorgons."

“Well indeed! So Lord Gensifer refuses to quit?”

“On the contrary. He seethes with dedication. He claims that he has been beaten only by fLutes and sluggishness, and never by the opposition.”

Glinnes laughed scornfully. “Whenever Lord Gensifer sat in the foul tank we were able to score. When he called plays, we were chased all over the field.”

“Will you fare better with old Neronavy? He’s not noted for imaginative play.”

“Quite true. I think we could do better.” Glinnes ruminated a moment.

“Would you care to ride over to Voulash again?”

“I have nothing better to do,” said Akadie.

Denzel Warhound lived in a cabin between two vast myrsile trees, at the head of Placid Valley. He had not yet been apprised of Lord Gensifer’s visit to Voulash, but he displayed neither surprise nor rancor. “The Gannets were a part-time proposition; I’m surprised the team held together as well as it did. Just a moment.” He went to the telephone and spoke several minutes with someone whose face Glinnes could not see, then returned to the porch. “Both strikes, both wings and a rover-all Gorgons now. The Gannets have flown for the last time this year, I assure you.”

“As a matter of possible interest,” said Glinnes, “the Tanchinaros could make good use of an aggressive captain. Neronavy is not as alert as he might be. With a clever captain, the Tanchinaros might well win considerable money.”

Denzel Warhound pulled at his chin. “The Tanchinaros are an open club, I believe?”

“As open as the air.”

“The idea has appeal, quite decidedly.”

The transition of the Tanchinaros from “ten guards and a fat old man” to a balanced and versatile team was not achieved without disgruntlement. The irascible Nilo Neronavy refused to concede the superior skills of Denzel Warhound. When the reverse was demonstrated he stormed from the field, accompanied by the displaced forwards and the sheirl, his niece. An hour later, in the arbor of The Magic Tench, Neronavy and his group declared themselves the nucleus of a new team, to be known as the Saurkash Fishkillers, and went so far as to challenge Lord Gensifer, who chanced to be passing by, to a match with his Gorgons. Lord Gensifer agreed to consider the offer. The Tanchinaros, suddenly awake to their potentialities, drilled with care, developing precision, coordination, and a repertory of basic plays. Their first opponents would be the Raparees from Galgade in the East Fens. The Raparees would play for no more than fifteen hundred ozols, which in any event was about the capability of the Tanchinaro treasury. And who for sheirl? Perinda, the club manager, introduced several lackluster candidates, whom the team found unsuitable.

“We’re a Class A team,” declared Denzel Warhound. “Maybe better-so get us a Class A sheirl. We won’t settle for any old slab of merling bait.”

“I have a girl in mind,” said Perinda. “She is absolutely first class-sashei, beauty, enthusiasm-except for one or two small points.”

“Ah indeed? She is the mother of nine children?”

“No. I’m sure she’s virgin. After all, she’s Trevanvi, which is one of the small flaws I mentioned.”

“Aha,” said Glinnes. “And her other flaws?”

“Well-she seems rather emotional. Her tongue has a life of its own. All in all, she is a very spirited personal ideal sheirl.”

“Aha! And her name is conceivably Duissane Drosset?“

“Quite correct. Do you have objection?”

Glinnes pursed his lips, trying to define his precise attitude toward Duissane Drosset. No question as to her verve and
sashei
— she would certainly provide impetus for the team. He said, “I have no objection.”

If Duissane was abashed to find Glinnes on the team, she gave no signal of the fact. She came alone to the practice field — independent conduct indeed for a Trevanyi girl. She wore a dark brown cloak, which the south wind pressed against her slight figure, and seemed very appealing, almost innocent. She had little to say but watched the Tanchinaros at their exercises with apparently intelligent attention, and the team performed with a considerable increment of energy.

Duissane accompanied the team to the arbor of The MagicTench, where they usually took after-practice refreshment.

Perinda seemed distrait, and when he introduced Duissane formally he somewhat pointedly described her as “one of our candidates.”

Savat cried out, “So far as I’m concerned, she’s our sheirl Let’s have no more of this candidate talk.”

Perinda cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, of course. But one or two matters have come up, and we traditionally choose our sheirls after full discussion.”

“What remains to be discussed?” demanded the Etzing. He asked Duissane, “Are you prepared to serve loyally as our sheirl, and take the bad with the good and the good with the bad?”

Duissane’s luminous gaze, wandering over the group, seemed to rest an instant upon Glinnes. But she said, “Yes, certainly.”

“Well then!” cried Etzing. “Shall we acclaim her?”

“A moment, just a moment!” said Perinda, slightly flushed. “As I say, one or two small points remain to be discussed.”

“Such as what?” bawled Etzing. “Let’s hear them!”

Perinda puffed out his cheeks, pink with embarrassment “We can discuss the matter another time.”

Duissane asked, “What are these small points? Discuss them now, for all of us. Perhaps I can explain whatever needs explaining. Go on,” she commanded, as Perinda still hesitated. “If allegations have been made I want to hear them.” And again it seemed as if her gaze rested a long instant upon Glinnes.

“Allegations’ is too strong a word,” stammered Perinda. “Just hints and rumors in regard to — well, your virginity. The condition seems to be doubtful, even though you are Trevanyi.”

Duissane’s eyes flashed. “How could anyone dare say such a thing about me? It is all so unjust and cowardly! Luckily I know my enemy, and I will never forget his antagonism!”

“No, no!” cried Perinda. “I won’t say from where the rumor came to me. It’s only that — ”

“You wait here!” Duissane told them. “Do not depart until I return. If I must be distrusted and humiliated, allow me at least a contravention.” She swept furiously from the arbor, almost colliding with Lord Gensifer and one of his cronies, Lord Alandrix, on their way into the bower.

“Stars!” exclaimed Lord Gensifer. “And who might she be? And at whom is she so enraged?

Perinda spoke in a subdued voice. “My lord, she is a candidate for Tanchinaro sheirl.”

Lord Gensifer laughed in great satisfaction. “She’s made the wisest move of her life, fleeing the engagement. Truth to tell, she’s a delicious little thing. I wouldn’t mind pulling her ring myself.”

“Almost certainly the opportunity will never arise,” said Glinnes.

“Don’t be too sure! The Gorgons are a different team now that changes have been made.”

“I imagine that you can get a game with us, if the booty is adequate.”

“Indeed. How much do you consider adequate?”

“Three thousand, five thousand, ten thousand-as much as you like.”

“Bah. The Tanchinaros can’t raise two thousand ozols, let alone ten thousand.”

“Whatever booty the Gorgons put up, we’ll match it.”

Lord Gensifer nodded judiciously. “Something just might come of this. Ten thousand ozols, you say.”

“Why not?” Glinnes looked around the arbor. All the Tanchinaros present knew as well as he did that the treasury contained three thousand ozols at the most, but only Perinda betrayed uneasiness.

“Very good,” said Lord Gensifer briskly. “The Gorgons accept the challenge, and in due course we’ll make the necessary arrangements.” He turned to go, just as Duissane Drosset marched back into the arbor. Her golden-red curls were somewhat disarranged; her eyes glowed with equal parts of triumph and rage. She glared towards Glinnes and thrust a document at Perinda. “There! I must suffer inconvenience merely to quiet the spiteful tongues of vipers. Read! Are you satisfied?”

Perinda scrutinized the document. “This appears to be a document asserting the purity of Duissane Drosset, and the attestor is none other than Doctor Niameth. Well then, the unfortunate matter is settled.”

“Not so fast,” called Glinnes. “What is the date on the document?”

“What a degraded creature you are!” stormed Duissane.

“The document is dated today!” Perinda concurred, and added dryly, “Doctor Niameth did not note the precise hour and minute of his examination, but I suppose this is carrying exactitude too far.”

Lord Gensifer said, “My dear young lady, don’t you think you might fare better with the Gorgons? We are a courteous group, the exact opposite of these rude Tanchinaros.”

“Courtesy wins no hussade games,” said Perinda. “If you, want to be snatched naked at your first game, go with the Gorgons.”

Duissane flicked Lord Gensifer an appriasing glance. Half-regretfully she shook her head. “I’ve only permission for the Tanchinaros. You’d have to supplicate my father.”

Lord Gensifer raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if imploring one or another of the deities to witness the graceless demands put upon him. He bowed low. “My best regards.” With another salute to the Tanchinaros he left the arbor.

Perinda looked at Glinnes. “Your badinage is all very well, but where will we find ten thousand ozols?”

“Where will Lord Gensifer find ten thousand ozols? He tired to borrow money from me. Who knows what a month or two will bring? Ten thousand ozols may seem a trivial sum.”

“Who knows, who knows?” muttered Perinda. “Well then, back to Duissane Drosset. Is she our sheirl or is she not?”

No one protested; perhaps, with Duissane looking from face to face, no one dared. And so it was arranged.

The game with the Galgade Reparees went with almost embarrassing ease. The Tanchinaros were surprised to find their tactics so effective. Either they were six times more powerful than they had assumed, or the Raparees were the weakest team of Jolany Prefecture. Three times the Tanchinaros thrust the length, of the field, their formations supple and decisive, the Raparees always seeming to find two Tanchinaros upon them, their sheirl in constant travail, while Duissane stood composed and cold, even somewhat stern, the white robe enhancing her frail charm. The Raparees, dejected and outclassed, paid three ransoms and resigned the field with their sheirl not denuded, to the displeasure of the crowd.

After the game the Tanchinaros assembled at The Magic Tench. Duissane held somewhat aloof from the conviviality, and Glinnes, chancing to look to the side, struck full into the lowering gaze of Vang Drosset. Almost immediately he conducted Duissane from the premises. A week later the Tanchinaros fared up the Scurge River to Erch on Little Vole Island to play the Erch Elements, with almost the same results. Lucho had been shifted to left strike, the better to work in tandem with Glinnes Hulden, and Savat played right wing with adequate accuracy. Still, there were relatively weak areas in the deployment, which a skilllful team would exploit. Gajowan, the left wing, was light and somewhat diffident, and Rolo, the left rover, was rather too slow. During the game with the Elements, Glinnes noticed Lord Gensifer in one of the middle boxes. He also noted Lord Gensifer’s eyes turned often toward Duissane, though in this regard he was not alone, for Duissane projected an irresistible fascination. In the white gown, her Trevanyi background forgotten; she seemed an entrancing confection-wistful,tart, gay, tragic, reckless, cautious, wise, foolish. Glinnes thought to see other attributes as well; he could never look at her without hearing a tinkle of laughter through the starlit darkness.