In the Blond section, on lower ground and closer to Brazil and Foley, no Reds were visible except for an occasional squad of patrolling soldiers. These stuck close together, looking grimly over their shoulders. The houses were built mostly of dried groundvine mats, though some mud bricks were used.
Beyond the Blond section were the docks. The water of the harbor was studded with the low shapes of fishing boats, and, larger, a few of Galamand's war galleys.
"Well—shall we march?" asked Foley.
"Might as well. I expect Ariton will know we're here before we've gone very far."
Brazil moved his legs. The suit servos drew power from the tiny hydrogen fusion lamp in the backpack; the suit legs churned the massive shape ahead. The wearer had the sensation of moving in light summer clothing, but he could plow through heavy bush and small trees if he chose. Brazil and Foley had no wish to leave a trail of destruction, so they picked their way with care to the nearest road and set out toward town.
Ariton met them in a narrow street before they were well inside the town. She stared hard at Foley when Brazil introduced him, but gave him a common greeting-word in a pleasant voice. "Sunto is waiting with a boat in the harbor," she told them. "It is the shortest and easiest way to Galamand's building."
The planeteers followed her through narrow, winding streets toward the harbor, ever a center of apathetic, curious, hopeful, or poker-faced stares from the Blond slum-dwellers. None of the Red patrols came within sight, which suited Brazil fine.
Sunto was waiting at a low dock, in a crude and lopsided rowboat fashioned of reeds. "Hope the blasted thing can hold us," said Foley on radio. "It'd be a long swim from the middle of the harbor."
The sun was still bright in the morning sky, promising a warm day. Galamand's castle rose forbidding across the harbor, beyond the fishing boats and the moored biremes of his navy. Above and beyond the castle rose the slender stone Tower of the Sea God. The rowboat held up as Sunto propelled it across the calm water of the harbor, straight toward the landing steps at the base of the castle. Reds appeared on the steps, watching. Their number grew as the boat approached.
"Galamand will have heard of you, of course," said Ariton. "I think he will be eager to see you for himself. Of course he may decided to kill you." She observed them.
"I don't think he will harm us," said Foley. From inside heavy ground armor they could remonstrate gently but confidently with Galamand while he boiled them in oil or his cohorts attempted to bash in their faceplates with axes. It would require a local Archimedes and considerable time and effort for any technologically primitive power to do them serious damage. But Ariton wore not much of any clothes at all. Foley asked her: "Do you think you will be safe?"
"The priestess of the Sea God is safe even from Galamand," she answered absently. Brazil thought she was worried, but not about herself.
He scanned the ranks of grimly watching Reds as they neared the landing steps. "Is Galamand among those?"
"I do not see him. No doubt he awaits you in the great hall inside."
The boat wallowed up to the landing. Ariton nimbly hopped out and made it fast with a rope of vine. A couple of Red soldiers halfheartedly leveled spears in her direction, but no one moved to stop her. Brazil and Foley disembarked and stood quietly, giving the Reds the chance to look them over and make the first move if they felt like it. There were no Red women or children in sight. Ariton moved her hand in an intricate gesture, in the air above Sunto's head, then touched his head briefly. "Now they will not bother him—for a while," she said to Brazil. "Well, let us go on and try to see the king."
A sword-bearing Red who might be an army officer stepped forward. "King Galamand has been told that you are here. Stand and wait." He eyed Foley with unconcealed and unfriendly curiosity.
Some of the Red troops looked Brazil over and commented among themselves with openly truculent contempt. His blondness was plainly visible through the faceplate. He looked back at them, deadpan, and unobtrusively moved to inflate his suit's flotation bubbles. Giant red swellings ballooned around his shoulders and torso. The soldiers stared and fell silent.
A few minutes passed. Brazil was deflating his bubbles as a more elaborately costumed Red appeared, and imperiously beckoned the delegation to follow him into the castle.
The few Blonds visible inside the walls had the look of the lowest of slaves. Now a few Red women and children were in evidence, but these retreated rapidly of out sight of the visitors. The complex of walls and buildings making up the stronghold had been built of heavy stone, with little if any mortar used.
The great hall was a high chamber about thirty meters by ten, dimly lit by smoking torches and small, high windows. It was crowded by Red men of varied appearance. Across the far end of the room stood a solid wall of tall soldiers bearing shields and leveled spears.
"Stand and wait here," said the distinguished Red who was acting guide, indicating a spot not far from the leveled spears. He disappeared into the crowd at one side.
Brazil and Foley turned casually around as they waited, studying the chamber and the Reds in it. No attempt had been made to surround the visitors closely. The door by which they had entered still stood open. Ariton stood waiting between the planeteers, with utter calm.
Another important-looking Red appeared before them; but it was somehow obvious that he was not the king. He held his hands clasped before him and owned a nose remarkable in size even for one of his tribe. "Do you bear weapons?" he demanded, looking from Foley to Brazil.
"We do," said Foley, "and we are not the only men here who bear them." He tried to give his speech the accent of a Red.
"You must give me your weapons," said the chamberlain. "Then you may advance and prostrate yourselves before the king."
"We will greet the king in all friendliness," said Foley. "But the law of our own nation forbids us to do him homage, or to give up our weapons."
The chamberlain hesitated a moment, then began to screech at the Earthmen threateningly. He raved and glared and waved his arms, jabbering so fast he became almost unintelligible. Yet Brazil got the impression the man was trying to avoid direct personal insult. It was a masterful performance of denouncing their disrespectful behavior but not themselves.
"Let's wait him out," Brazil subvocalized to Foley via radio.
"Maybe they just want to see if we bluff. It wouldn't do for the king himself to try and fail."
The planeteers stood silent a full thirty seconds longer, glaring stony-eyed back at the speaker. The harangue gave no sign of slackening. "Better squelch him," Brazil said at last. Evidently the torrent of words was going to continue until they reacted to it in some way. Brazil did not now want to give the impression that Earthmen had infinite patience. The squelch might be better accepted coming from the "Red" planeteer.
"Silence!" Foley bellowed, after turning up his airspeaker volume. He got what he called for with magical suddenness. Ariton wore a pleased smile.
"We have come here to talk with a king, not to listen to you," Foley went on. "If King Galamand is not pleased to receive us today, we will return tomorrow. Our business is important."
"Get out of the way," said a firm voice from behind the wall of soldiers. "Let them come here."
The ranks of soldiers opened, but stayed within spear-thrusting distance on either side. Brazil, Ariton, and Foley advanced toward the man who sat alone upon an elaborately carved chair.
The man upon the throne was not ordinary. A vast scar sliced across his face, nearly obliterating one of his eyes. He was approaching middle age, not big for a Red, but thick-limbed and strong. Upon his breastplate was worked in relief an image of the Sea God's Tower.
Foley opened his mouth, doubtless meaning to register a complaint about the way the chamberlain had spoken to them. "Greetings, great king," was all that came out. Galamand's bright blue eye seemed to nail him with more effect than if there had been two.
"Greetings, great king," said Brazil. Ariton stood b
etween the Earthmen, saying nothing but watching Galamand haughtily.
The king ignored her and spoke to the armored planeteers, looking from one to the other. "I bid you welcome," he said perfunctorily. "Does your king send greetings to me?"
"He does indeed," said Foley. "And would send you gifts, as is our custom. But in some lands it is considered an insult to present such gifts immediately."
The king raised an eyebrow, and his mouth twisted slightly. Brazil spoke up: "Oh, there are such lands. King Galamand. Not many, but a few."
The blue eye fixed on his. "I thank your king for his greetings. Is he Red or Blond?"
"Neither," said Brazil, truthfully enough. "In our country men of different colors live together peacefully."
The king nodded toward Ariton. "You bring this woman with you. Why?"
"I have come with these my friends, to speak for my people," she said, flaring up at him. "And I speak also to the Sea God, as you well know."
Galamand seemed faintly amused. "Do you speak against me to the Sea God, woman? Your words are not strong enough. The Tower still stands against the waves. The sea-sound is faint in my ear, and soothing as I go to sleep at night. Will you arouse the Sea God to destroy me?"
Brazil heard the faintest stir and mutter among the soldiers on either side; evidently the king's words might be thought a provocation to the god. Galamand swept his blue eye around, but said nothing to his men.
He spoke again to the planeteers: "And you are this woman's friends?"
"We would be friends with Red and Blond alike."
Galamand digested the statement swiftly and without comment, and changed the subject. "Your ship is swift and hard to see; my ships have circled the island every day since you first appeared, and have not found it. Now I admit this puzzles me."
Brazil answered: "As you say, great king, our ship is elusive and very swift. It is not the wish of our king that our first visits here be seen by many ships upon the sea."
"And why do you come here at all?"
"We seek always the knowledge of new lands, oh king," said Foley. "Some twenty or thirty of us would like to live on this island for a year or two, on some small area of land that you who live here now do not need. We are willing to pay for this privilege. But we do not want to deal with a government engaged in civil war, under which two tribes contend against each other; or with a king who holds another tribe in slavery."
"No one contends against me here and lives." Galamand spoke quietly and distinctly. He gave Ariton his twisted grin and asked:
"Is it not so?"
It stung her deeply, and her voice rose loud: "Your day is not forever, Redman. One day your children will be our slaves, if you beget any before you die. We will—"
Brazil's voice rose over hers. "That is not what we want! That would yet be war and slavery."
Both native rulers looked at him, for the moment united against the outsider. Then Galamand asked quietly: "How would you have us live?"
"As one tribe."
Galamand narrowed his operational eye and scratched his beard.
"You spoke of payment, for the use of land. What do you mean to offer?"
Foley answered: "To the ruler of a peaceful land we would offer, to begin with, a great quantity of cord, much stronger and more lasting than your vines, to make excellent fishnets, oh king."
"And weapons?" The king's voice was casual and gentle.
"A quantity of swords and spears might be included—"
"You do not carry swords or spears."
"We carry them for trade." They could be made up.
Galamand's blue eye did not waver from Foley's face, but his right arm shot out toward the nearest guard, and his fingers snapped. The haft of the guard's spear was instantly in his grip. The king stood up and thrust the spear, butt first, toward Foley, at the same time holding out his left hand open.
"If you are men who deal in spears, then I will trade with you. I offer in trade this good Red spear, for that weapon you wear at your side."
Foley assumed a deeply troubled expression. "Oh great king, we have no wish to anger you. But we must refuse to trade our weapons. If we did so, the anger of our king would fall heavily upon our heads. And against his anger we have no defense."
"And against mine?" Galamand's voice was still gentle. So is a lion, when not hungry or offended.
"We have our weapons, which we cannot trade, great king," said Brazil, with punctilious courtesy. The blue eye lanced at him and he looked right back down the shaft at it, while from the corners of his eyes he watched the spearmen carefully. Galamand too must have received accurate intelligence about the First Contact, if he could identify the butt of a stun pistol as a weapon.
Galamand grounded the butt of the spear and stood drumming his fingers on the shaft. "Fishnets," he said meditatively. "Your great king has then no weapons to spare? I would reward you well if you were to convince him that he has; or if you were to act, shall we say, on your own . . . " He reached into a pouch at his belt and brought out a lustrous pearl-like jewel, bigger than a grape.
Foley shook his head slowly. "Oh king, it cannot be. If you offer us the riches of the whole island, still we will give or trade to you no weapons, save such as you can make yourselves."
Galamand tossed the spear back to the soldier and seated himself again. "And your armor? I admit I have not seen such glass." This time Brazil joined in the headshaking.
"Strange men," Galamand mused. "You say you will not trade with a ruler who holds another tribe in slavery. I will not ask you why. I have not asked for any trade with you that would pay me in fishnets, and I want none. While the waves spare the Tower, the Sea God supports me. I am king upon this island. My slaves are my slaves. When you are willing to trade something worthwhile for the use of my land, you may come back again and speak with me."
"Suggestions?" Brazil radioed.
"Leave without argument," said a voice from above. "We can analyze what we've got and try again."
Ariton stood proudly erect while Brazil and Foley bowed deeply to the king, who told them with a straight face that he was providing them with an escort back to their ship, that no harm should come to them on the way.
"They'll see the scout unless we can shake them," Brazil radioed, starting out of the throne room.
"Guess we'll have to give them a minimum marvel to look at," said Gates' voice. "There's a suitable deep cove just outside the city, about four kilometers from where you are. Just walk south along the shore; I'll bring the scout up partly out of the water for you to get in, and let them get a good enough look to be sure it's a ship and not a sea monster. Okay?"
"Good idea," said Captain Dietrich. "A submarine will startle them some, but it should further convince them we're not spirits who just materialize."
Ariton walked with the planeteers out of the castle; they stopped at the landing steps to pick up Sunto, who was much relieved to see them. When told they were leaving by land, Sunto climbed out of his half-waterlogged rowboat, and said to a Red soldier standing guard nearby: "I leave to you as a gift the noble craft which you have praised so highly." And he ground his foot against the stone stair. The Red glowered but said nothing.
The walk out of the city was uneventful. Within an hour the four of them stood on the steep sloping shore within the chosen cove, with Galamand's heavily armed honor guard watching very carefully from a little distance and a Red galley casually standing by offshore.
Foley was telling Ariton that a ship would soon come to take Brazil and him on board, but she and Sunto would have to stay on shore. She agreed calmly, and watched the horizon for the ship, with some puzzlement.
Brazil turned to Sunto. "The Tower of the Sea God is very important to your people and the Reds, is it not?"
"Yes." Sunto did not seem especially interested in the subject.
"It is our old belief that as long as the Tower is not destroyed by the waves of the sea, the Sea God smiles upon the rulers of the island, who
ever they be."
"What if the waves should knock the Tower down?"
Sunto smiled wryly. "Then I think you would see upon this island the one tribe for which Ariton says you asked the king. For the Tower to be so destroyed would mean the Sea God thinks the rulers of the island evil. The destruction of his own Tower is to be his last warning before he overwhelms with waves the entire island, slaying everyone on it and carrying the evildoers down to be frozen forever in the ice at the bottom of the sea."
"Get more on this!" said an excited radio voice. "Foley, ask Ariton about the Tower, she should be a real authority. Gates, hold that scout underwater for a minute.
Brazil asked Sunto: "Do you think the Sea God will ever destroy the Tower?"
Sunto looked out at the ocean soberly; it was dull and placid in the sun. "May I never see the day—but I am a practical man. Whoever is king will surely see to it that the seawall of large rocks is kept strong at the base of the Tower, to break the force of the waves. Someday, perhaps, a very great storm . . . but there are great storms every year. The Tower has stood for many years."
"Is the season for great storms coming soon?" Brazil felt the vague beginnings of what might be a valid idea.
"No, it is just past. Now is the time of the steady-but-not-toostrong winds."
"That checks," said Meteorology from above.
Sunto continued: "Also, the Tower stands on a straight shoreline, and the Sea God hurls his waves most strongly against the points of land that jut out into his domain."
"That is true in all lands," said Brazil absently. He had just the start of a plan to scare these people into cooperating, by making the Tower seemed threatened by a storm. It might be just possible to induce a violent storm. But what would it do to the rest of the island? The scheme seemed worthless . . . "That is true in all lands. As it is true that the waves come in nearly parallel to the shore, no matter from which point at sea the wind is blowing. And the reason is the same . . . " Brazil fell silent, as if in a sudden dream.
Of Berserkers, Swords and Vampires Page 11
