by Algis Budrys
matter-of-fact.If his hands had not been tied, Geoffrey might not have been a prisonerat all. This puzzled him as well. A prisoner, after all, could notexpect to be treated very well. True, he and Dugald were nobles, butthis could not possibly mean anything to persons as uncivilized asmountain tribesmen.
Yet somehow, the only thing that was done was that all of them; thetribesmen, The Barbarian, Myka, Dugald and he--made their way toWeatherby's home. A number of the tribesmen continued on their way fromthere, going to their own homes to bring their families to watch thetest. The remainder stayed behind to post guard. Dugald was put in oneroom, and Geoffrey in another. The Barbarian and Myka went off somewherewith Weatherby--presumably to have breakfast. Geoffrey could smell foodcooking, somewhere toward the back of the house. The smell satintolerably on his empty stomach.
He sat for perhaps a half hour in the room, which was almost bare offurniture. There was a straight-backed chair, in which he sat, a narrowbed, and a bureau. Even though his hands were still tied behind hisback, he did his best to search the room for something to helphim--though he had no idea of what he would do next after he managed toescape from the room itself.
The problem did not arise, because the room had been stripped ofanything with a sharp edge on which to cut his lashings, and of anythingelse he might put to use. These people had obviously held prisoners herebefore. He sat back down in his chair, and stared at the wall.
Eventually, someone opened the door. Geoffrey looked over, and saw thatit was The Barbarian. He looked at the inlander coldly, but TheBarbarian did not seem to notice. He sat down on the edge of the bed.
"On top of everything else," he began without preamble, "I've justfinished a hearty breakfast. That ought to really make you mad at me."
"I'm not concerned with you, or your meals," Geoffrey pointed out.
The Barbarian's eyes twinkled. "It doesn't bother you, my getting yourhelp and then not protecting you from these intransigent tribesmen?"
"Hardly. I'd be a fool to expect it."
"Would you, now? Look, bucko--these people live a hard way of life.Living on a mountain is a good way not to live comfortably. But it's agood way of living your own way, _if_ you can stand the gaff. Thesepeople can. Every one of them. They've got their marks to prove it.Every last one of them has fought it out face to face with another man,and proved his fitness to take up space in this territory. See--it's asocial code. And they'll extend it to cover any stranger who doesn't getkilled on his way here. If you can get your mark, you're welcome herefor the rest of your life. They keep their clan stock fresh and vigorousthat way. And it all has the virtue of being a uniform, just, rigid codethat covers every man in the group. These barbarian cultures aren't everhappy without a good code to their name, you know."
"Yours seems to lack one."
The Barbarian chuckled. "Oh, no. We've got one, all right, or you'dnever have had me to worry you. Nothing we like better than a good,talented enemy. You know, these people here in the mountains used to beour favorite enemies. But so many of us wound up getting our marks, itjust got to be futile. Once you're in, you know, you're a full-fledgedclan member. That sort of divided our loyalties. The problem just seemedto solve itself, though. We understand them, they understand us, wetrade back and forth ... hell, it's all one family."
Geoffrey frowned. "You mean--they got those rifles from you?"
"Sure. We're full of ingenuity--for barbarians, that is. Not in the sameclass with you seaboard nobles, of course, but we poke along." TheBarbarian stood up, and his expression turned serious. "Look, son--youremember that knife of mine you borrowed for a while? I'll have to lendit to you again, in about twenty minutes. Your friend Dugald's going tohave one just like it, and your left arms are going to be tied togetherat the wrists. I hope you remember what I happened to tell you about howto use it, because under the rules of the code, I'm not allowed toinstruct you."
And Geoffrey was left alone.
* * *
There was a hard-packed area of dirt in front of Weatherby's home, andnow its edges were crowded with tribesmen, many of whom had broughttheir women and children. Weatherby, together with a spare,capable-looking woman, and with The Barbarian and Myka, sat on hisporch. One of the tribesmen was wrapping Geoffrey's and Dugald'sforearms together. Geoffrey watched him with complete detachment. Hestole a glance over toward Weatherby's porch, and it seemed to him thatMyka was tense and anxious. He couldn't be sure....
The fingers of his right hand gripped the haft of The Barbarian's knife.He held it with his thumb along the blade, knowing that if he drew hisarm up, to stab downward, or back, to slash, Dugald would have a perfectopening. It was his thought, remembering that razor-keen blade, that heought to be able to do plenty of damage with a simple underhand twist ofhis arm. He did not look down to see how Dugald was holding the knifehe'd been given. That would have been unfair.
The crowd of watching tribesmen was completely silent. This was aserious business with them, Geoffrey reflected.
The tribesman tying their wrists had finished the job. He stepped back."Anytime after I say 'Go,' you boys set to it. Anything goes and deadman loses. If you don't fight, we kill you both."
For the first time since their capture, Geoffrey looked squarely intoDugald's slit eyes. "I'm sorry we have to do this to each other in thisway, Dugald," he said.
"Go!" the tribesman shouted, and jumped back.
Dugald spat at Geoffrey's face. Geoffrey twitched his headinvoluntarily, realized what he'd done, and threw himself off his feet,pulling Dugald with him and just escaping the downward arc of Dugald'splunging knife. The momentum of Dugald's swing, combined with Geoffrey'sweight, pulled him completely over Geoffrey's shoulder. The two of themjerked abruptly flat on the ground, their shoulders wrenched, sprawledout facing each other and tied together like two cats on a string.
The crowd shouted.
Geoffrey had landed full on his ribs, and for a moment he saw nothingbut a red mist. Then his eyes cleared and he was staring into Dugald'sface. Dugald snarled at him, and pawed out with his knife, at theadvantage now because he could stab downward. Geoffrey rolled, andDugald perforce rolled with him. The stab missed again, and Geoffrey, onhis back, jabbed blindly over his head and reached nothing. Then theywere on their stomachs again.
Dugald was panting, his face running wet. The long black hair was fullof dust, and his face was smeared. If ever Geoffrey had seen a man in ananimal state, that was what Dugald resembled. Geoffrey thought wildly;Is this what a _noble_ is?
"I'll kill you!" Dugald bayed at him, and Geoffrey's hackles rose. Thisis not a man, he thought. This is nothing that deserves to live.
Dugald's arm snapped back, knife poised, and drove downward again.Geoffrey suddenly coiled his back muscles and heaved on his left arm,yanking himself up against Dugald's chest. He snapped his hips sideward,and Dugald's knife missed him completely for the third and fatal time.The Barbarian's knife slipped upward into Dugald's rib cage, andsuddenly Geoffrey was drenched with blood. Dugald's teeth bit into hisneck, but the other man's jaws were already slackening. Geoffrey lethimself slump, and hoped they would cut this carrion away from him assoon as possible. He heard the crowd yelping, and felt The Barbarianplucking the knife out of his hand. His arm was freed, and he rolledaway.
"By God, I _knew_ you had the stuff," The Barbarian was booming. "I knewthey had to start breeding men out on the coast sooner or later.Here--give me your other wrist." The blade burned his skin twice eachway--once for victory and once for special aptitude--and then Mykapressed a cloth to the wound.
She was shaking her head. "I've never seen it done better. You're anatural born fighter, lad. I've got one of my sisters all picked out foryou."
Geoffrey smiled up at The Barbarian, a little ruefully. "It seems youand I'll be going back to the coast together, next year."
"Had it in mind all along, lad," The Barbarian said. "If I can't lick'em, I'll be damned if I won't make 'em join me."
"It's an ef
fective system," Geoffrey said.
"That it is, lad. That it is. And now, if you'll climb up to your feet,let's go get you some breakfast."
END
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ February 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
