by Jack Vance
Travec spoke to Izmael in his own language: "Well then, creature born of outrage: what do you here, so far from home?"
"Hoy, dog-eater! I attend to my own affairs."
"They may be mine as well, so treat me kindly, even though I have lopped the heads from a hundred of your kinsmen."
"What is done is done; after all, I raped your mother and all your sisters."
"And no doubt your own mother as well, on horseback." Travec nodded toward the other man on the bench. "Who is this gaunt shadow of a dead scorpion?"
"He calls himself Kegan; he is a Celt from Godelia. He would as soon cut your throat as spit."
Travec nodded and reverted to the language of the country. "I have been sent to meet a certain Cory of Falonges. Where is he to be found?"
"He has not yet arrived. We thought you might be Cory. What do you know of the venture?"
"I was assured of profit and danger, no more." Travec went into the inn, and found the landlord, who agreed to provide lodging, in the form of a straw pallet in the loft over the barn, which Travec accepted without enthusiasm. The landlord sent a boy to take care of the dun horse; Travec brought his bundle of belongings into the inn, and commanded a pint of ale from the landlord, which he took to a table by the wall.
Nearby sat another two men: Este the Roman, slender with delicate features and hazel eyes, carved a bit of wood into the likeness of a harpy. Galgus the Black from Dahaut amused himself rolling dice across the table, from one hand to the other. He showed the startling white skin and lusterless black hair of an arsenic-eater; his face was sad and saturnine. The two were presently joined by Izmael and Kegan the Celt. Izmael muttered a few words, and all turned to look toward Travec, who ignored the attention.
Kegan began to play at dice with Galgus, wagering small coins, and presently the whole group became involved in the game. Travec watched with somber attention, wondering as to the outcome of the situation. The group, lacking a leader, was unstable, with each man jealous of his reputation. After a few minutes Izmael the Hun called over to Travec. "Come! Why do you not join the sport? Dacians are notorious for their insensate gambling!"
"True, to my regret," said Travec. "But I did not wish to join the game without an invitation."
"You may consider yourself invited. Gentlemen, this is Travec the Dacian, who is here on business similar to our own. Travec, you see here Este the Sweet, who claims to be the last true Roman. His weapon is a bow so small and fragile that it seems a toy, while his arrows are little more than slivers; still, he can sling them away with great speed and put out a man's eye at fifty yards without rising from his chair. Next is Galgus, who is Daut and clever with knives. Yonder sits Kegan from Godelia; he favors a set of curious weapons, among others, the steel whip. I myself am a poor lost dove; I survive the ferocities of life only through the pity and forbearance of my fellows."
"You are a notable group," said Travec. "I am privileged to be associated with you. Does anyone know the details of our mission?"
Galgus said: "I can guess, since Casmir is at the bottom of it. But enough talk; let us roll the dice. Travec, do you under stand the game?"
"Not altogether, but I will learn quickly enough."
"Then what about money?"
"No problem there! I carry ten gold pieces paid over to me by King Casmir."
"That should suffice! Very well; I will roll the dice. Everyone must wager, then I either call out my number of 'odd' or 'even', and so goes the game."
Travec played for a period, and won modestly. Then Galgus began to use false dice, which he substituted with great cleverness when it came his time to throw, and Travec lost his ten gold pieces. "I will play no more," said Travec. "Else I might find myself without a horse."
The sun had long since dropped behind the mountains. As the sky began to grow dark the landlord served a supper of lentils and bread. Even as the five men finished their meal, a newcomer arrived at the inn, riding a fine black horse. He dismounted, tied his horse to the rail and strode into the inn: a dark-haired man of middle stature, long and sinewy of arm and leg, with a hard harsh face. He spoke to the landlord: "Take care of my horse and provide me the best your house can offer, since I have ridden far this day." He turned and surveyed the five men, then approached their table. "I am Cory of Falonges; I am here on orders from an eminent person of whom you know. It is my business to command you on a venture. I expected four men; I find five."
"I am Travec the Dacian. King Casmir sent me to join your troop, along with a bag of ten gold pieces which you were to pay out to the other four men. However, this afternoon I gamed at dice. To my regret I lost all ten gold pieces, so that the men must go without their pay."
"What!" cried Izmael in consternation. "You gambled with my money?"
Cory of Falonges looked at Travec wonderingly. "How do you explain your behaviour?"
Travec shrugged. "I was pressed to join the game and Casmir's money was the first to hand. After all, I am a Dacian and accept all challenges."
Este looked accusingly at Galgus. "The money you have won is rightfully mine!"
"Not necessarily!" cried Galgus. "Your remark is based on a hypothesis. Also, let me ask this: if Travec had won, would you now reimburse me my losses?"
Cory spoke decisively: "Galgus in this case is not at fault; Travec is to blame."
Travec, seeing how the tide was running, said: "You are all making much of nothing. I have five gold pieces of my own, which I will put up for wager."
Galgus asked: "You wish to gamble further?"
"Why not? I am a Dacian! But we will play a new game!" Travec put the earthenware bean-pot on the floor and indicated a crack running across the floor some fifteen feet from the pot. "Each man in turn will stand behind the crack and toss a gold piece toward the pot. The man whose coin goes into the pot collects all the coins which have gone astray."
"And if two or more men succeed?" asked Este.
"They share the booty. Come then, who will play? Galgus, you are adept and a good judge of distances; you shall go first."
Somewhat dubiously Galgus put his toe to the crack and tossed a coin; it struck the side of the pot and rattled away.
"Too bad," said Travec. "You will not win this round. Who will go next? Este?"
Este tossed, then Izmael and Kegan; all their coins went wide of the opening, though it seemed as if their aim were true and that only at the last instant did some influence nudge the coins aside. Travec threw last, and his coin rattled clean and true into the pot. "In this case I am lucky," said Travec. He collected his winnings. "Come; who will be first? Galgus again?"
Once more Galgus stepped to the crack and with the most subtle touch, tossed his coin, but it sailed entirely over the pot as if it had wings. Este's coin seemed to dip for a moment into the opening, then careen away. Izmael and Kegan likewise failed in their attempts, but as before Travec’s coin rang into the pot as if drawn there by a will of its own.
Travec collected his winnings. He counted out ten gold pieces and gave them to Cory. "Let there be no further complaint!" He turned to his fellows. "Shall we toss another round?"
"Not I," said Este. "My arm is sore from so much exercise."
"Nor I," said Kegan. "I am confused by the erratic flight of my coins. They dart and veer like barn swallows; they shy away from the pot as if it were a hole into Hell!"
Kegan went to look into the pot. A black arm reached up from within and tweaked his nose. He gave a startled cry and dropped the pot, which broke into a hundred pieces. None had observed the incident and his explanations met with skepticism. Travec said: "The landlord's ale is strong! No doubt you felt its influence!"
The landlord now came forward. "Why did you break my valuable pot? I demand payment!"
"It is your pot which tonight cost me dear!" roared Kegan. "I will pay not so much as a falsified farthing, unless you recompense me my loss!"
Cory stepped forward. "Landlord, be calm! I am the leader of this company and I w
ill pay the cost of your pot. Be good enough to bring us more ale, then leave us in peace."
With a sullen shrug the landlord retreated and in due course returned with mugs of ale. Meanwhile, Cory had turned to appraise Travec. "You are deft with your coin-tossing. What other skills can you demonstrate?"
Travec showed a flicker of a smile. "Upon whom?"
"I stand aloof, in judgment," said Cory.
Travec looked around the group. "Izmael, your nerves are strong; otherwise the deeds you have done would have made you mad."
"That may well be true."
"Stand here, then, at this spot."
"Tell me first what you have in mind. If you intend to cut off my scalp-lock, I must respectfully refuse."
"Be calm! With as much amity as may be possible between Dacian and Hun, we will demonstrate the niceties of combat as we know it on the steppes."
"As you like." Izmael slouched to the stipulated place.
Cory turned to Travec. He asked sharply: "What sort of foolery is this? You carry neither bludgeon nor mace; there is no blade at your belt nor none in your boot!"
Travec, paying no heed, spoke to Izmael. "You are waiting in ambush. Make ready your knife, and strike as I walk past."
"As you like."
Travec walked past Izmael the Hun. There was a flurry of movement, almost too fast to follow. Travec flung out his arm; a knife appeared miraculously in his hand; the pommel was pressed against Izmael's corded neck, with the blade gleaming in the lamplight. Izmael's arm was knocked aside; his knife clattered to the stone floor. At the same time he raised his leg, a horrid double-pronged blade protruding from the toe of his soft felt shoe. He kicked at Travec's crotch; Travec dropped his other hand and caught Izmael's ankle, and Izmael was forced to hop backward toward the fireplace; had Travec stepped forward and thrust, Izmael would have fallen backward into the blaze.
Travec, however, released Izmael's ankle and resumed his seat. Izmael stolidly picked up his knife and retreated to his own place. "So go events on the steppe," said Izmael without rancor.
Este the Sweet spoke in silky tones: "That is deft knifework, and even Galgus, who reckons himself supreme, will agree to this. Am I right, Galgus?"
All eyes turned to Galgus, who sat brooding, his pallid face pinched into a dyspeptic mask. "It is easy to be deft when one has a knife in his sleeve," said Galgus. "As to the thrown knife, that is an art superb at which I excel."
Este asked: "What of it, Travec? Can you throw the knife?"
"By Dacian standards I am considered moderately skillful. Which of us is the better man? There is no way of proving without one or the other or both taking the knife in the throat, so let us not force a comparison."
"Ah, but there is a way," said Galgus. "I have seen it used often at a trial among champions. Landlord, bring us a length of thin cord."
Grudgingly the landlord tendered a hank of string. "You must now pay me a silver bit, which will also compensate me for my pot."
Cory contemptuously tossed him a coin. "Take this and cease your whining! Avarice ill becomes a landlord; these folk, as a class, should be generous, decent and open-handed."
"None such exist," growled the landlord. "All answering that description have become wandering paupers."
Galgus meanwhile had tied the cord across the face of a horizontal six-foot baulk at the far end of the room. At the center he suspended a beef knucklebone upon which the dogs had been chewing, then returned to where his comrades stood watching.
"Now then," said Galgus. "We stand at this crack, facing away from the string. At the signal, we turn and throw our knives. Travec aims at the string two feet to the right of the bone; I aim at a point two feet to the left. Should we both strike the string, one knife will cut an instant sooner than the other, and the bone will swing somewhat away from vertical before it falls and thus give a clear indication of which knife struck first that is, if either of us has the competence to hit the mark in the first place."
"I can only try my best," said Travec. "First I must find a knife to throw, as I would not wish to use my sleeve-knife for such rough work." He looked about the room. "I will try this old cheese-knife; it will serve as well as any."
"What?" exclaimed Galgus. "The blade is a trifle of pot-metal, or lead, or some other base substance; it is barely able to gnaw through an ounce of cheese!"
"Still, it must do, since I have no other. Este, you must referee the drop. Find the exact verticality, so that we may detect to the width of a spider-leg who is the better man."
"Very well." After several tests, Este marked a spot on the floor. "Here is the point of determination! Kegan, you come here as well; we will crouch and watch the spot, and if the bone drops we will validate each other's decision."
Kegan and Este went to kneel under the knucklebone. "We are ready."
Galgus and Travec took their places by the crack, backs turned to the wooden baulk. Cory said: "I will rap my knuckles on the table with this cadence: one-two-three-four-five. At the fifth rap, you must turn and throw. Are you ready?"
"Ready!" said Galgus.
"Ready!" said Travec.
"Attention, then! I will start the count!" Cory rapped his knuckles upon the table. Rap. Rap. Rap. Rap. Rap. Galgus with the speed of a striking snake swung about; metal flashed through the air; the blade struck home in the wood. But the bone never wavered; the blade had entered the baulk at the target point but with its blade flat and parallel to the cord. Travec, who had turned in a leisurely manner, said: "That is not bad; but let me see if I cannot do better with this old cheese-biter." He hefted the wooden handle, slung it sidewise. The knife wavered through the air, slashed the cord; the bone fell to the side. Este and Kegan rose to their feet. "It appears that on this occasion Travec must be declared the winner of the trial."
Galgus, muttering under his breath, went to retrieve his knife. Cory said abruptly: "Enough of these trials and tests; clearly you all are competent at slitting throats and drowning old women. Whether you can achieve more strenuous acts remains to be seen. Now then: seat yourselves, and give me all your attention, and I will tell you what I expect of you. Landlord, bring us ale, then step from the room, as we wish to make private conversation."
Cory waited until the landlord had obeyed his instructions, then, placing one foot on a bench, he spoke in a voice of command. "At this moment we are a disparate group, with nothing in common but our mutual villainy and our greed. These are poor bonds, no doubt, but they must serve, since we have no other. It is important that we work as one; our mission will collapse into disaster for all of us unless we act with discipline."
Kegan called out: "What is this mission? This is what we need to know!"
"I cannot tell you the details at this time. I can describe it as dangerous, dastardly and in the interests of King Casmir-but you know this already, and perhaps you can guess what is wanted of us. Still, I prefer to avoid an exact definition of our goal until we have proceeded somewhat further. But this I can tell you: if we succeed, we gain great rewards, and will never need to rob or plunder again, save for recreation."
Este asked: "All very well, but what are these rewards? A few more gold pieces?"
"Not so. As for myself, I will be restored to the barony of Falonges. Each of you may expect the rank and estate of a knight, in a district of your own choosing. Such, at least, is my understanding."
"Well then, what next?" asked Este.
"The program is simple: you need only obey my orders."
"That is, perhaps, a trifle too simple. After all, we are not fresh recruits."
"The details are these: tomorrow we set off across the mountains to a place of rendezvous with others of our ilk. There we shall take advice and perfect our plans. At last we shall act, and if we do our work with decision, we are done."
Galgus said sardonically: "Nothing could be more expeditious, as you explain it."
Cory paid him no heed. "Listen now to me. My demands are few. I ask neither love,
nor flattery, nor special favors. I require discipline and obedience to my commands, in exactitude. There must be no hesitant questions, nor arguments, nor murmuring doubts. You are as horrid a band of brutes as ever haunted a nightmare-but I am more vicious than all five together-if my orders are disobeyed. So then-here and now! Anyone who finds the program beyond his scope may take his leave; it is now or never! Travec, do you accept my regulations?"
"I am a Black Eagle of the Carpathians! No man is my master!"
"During this venture, I am your master. Accept this fact, or go your own way."
"If all the others agree, I will abide by your regulations."
"Este?"
"I accept the conditions. After all, someone must lead."
"Exactly so. Izmael?"
"I will abide by the rule."
"Kegan?"
"Ha! If I must, I must, though the ghosts of my ancestors cry out at the indignity."
"Galgus?"
"I submit to your leadership."
"Travec the Dacian: once more to you?"
"You shall be the leader. I will not dispute your rule."
"That is still ambiguous. Once and for all, will you or will you not obey my command?"
Travec said stonily: "I will obey."
III
An hour after daybreak Cory of Falonges and his dreadful company departed the Inn of the Dancing Pig. Tern, the landlord's oldest son, served as their guide and led a pair of packhorses. He had stated that the journey would require two days only, barring untoward incident and provided that the Atlantic gales held off the full force of their blowing.
The column rode north, past the defile which led under Tac Tor into the Vale of Evander and beyond, then turned into a trail that led up a steep gulch. Back and forth wound the trail, among tumbled rocks, alder thickets, brambles and brakes of thistle, with a small river gushing and gurgling always near at hand. After a mile, the trail left the river to climb the hillside, traversing back, forth, back, forth, to emerge at last on the upper face of a spur.
