The Players

by Everett B. Cole

bandit leader's strategy had been to cut the caravan in two,and to deal with the rear guard first. As the watcher started to aim atsomething down on the trail, Musa quickly raised his own bow and sent anarrow to cut the man down before he could fire.

  It was a good shot. The man made no sound as the arrow struck, butclawed for an instant at the shaft in his side, then dropped, to slidedown the face of a low cliff. Musa, followed by his guards, stormed upthe slope.

  They went through a saddle in the hill, to find themselves confronted bya half dozen men, who swung about, trying to bring their bows to bear onthe unexpected targets. Two of these went down as arrows sang throughthe air, then the traders were upon the rest, swords flailing, too closefor archery.

  One of the bandits swung his sword wildly at Musa, who had drawn a twinto that blade he had sold back in Karth. The slender shaft of steel rangagainst the bandit's bronze blade, deflecting it, then Musa made a quickthrust which passed through the man's leather shield, to penetrateflesh. The bronze weapon sagged, and its holder staggered. Musa jerkedback violently, disengaged his sword, and made a swift cut. For aninstant, the bandit sat his mount, staring at his opponent. Then, heslumped, and rolled loosely from his saddle.

  The action had been fast. Only one bandit, a skilled swordsman,remained, to keep Baro busy. Musa rode quickly behind him, thrusting ashe passed. Baro looked across the limp body.

  "Now, what did you have to do that for?" he demanded. "I was having agood time."

  "Let's get down to the trail again," Musa told him. "We can have awonderful time there." He pointed.

  The caravan's rear guard was in trouble. Several of them were in thedust of the trail, and the survivors were being pressed by a number ofdetermined swordsmen.

  Baro wheeled and slid down the incline, closely followed by the rest ofthe group.

  The surrounded bandits fought desperately, but hopelessly. The chargefrom the hill had driven them off balance, and they were never given achance to recover. At last, Musa and Baro looked over the results of theraid.

  They had lost several guards. One trader, Klaron, had been killed by anarrow launched early in the attack. Several of the survivors werewounded.

  "We'll have to hire some more guards and drivers in Jogurth," said Baro."And what are we going to do about Klaron's goods?"

  "We can divide them and sell them in Jogurth," Musa told him. "Klaronhas a brother back in Karth who can use the money, and money's a loteasier to carry than goods. You'll see him on your return trip."

  Baro nodded, and started up the line, reorganizing the caravan. At last,they got under way again, and resumed their slow way toward the plateau.

  * * * * *

  The caravan went on, to enter the plateau, where the traders startedresting by day and traveling by night, to avoid exertion during theday's heat.

  They came to the city of Jogurth, which for most of them was a terminal.From there, they would return to Karth, a few possibly going on to theirhomes still farther west. Musa stayed in town for a few days, tradinghis few remaining eastern goods for locally produced articles, andhelping in the sale of Klaron's goods. At last, he joined anothercaravan, headed by an old trader, Kerunar, who habitually traveledbetween Jogurth and Manotro, on the east coast.

  The trip across the Soruna Kran was uneventful, and Musa finally saw theglint of the Eastern Sea. He did not stay long in Manotro, for hediscovered that the small channel ships traveled frequently, and he wasable to guide his pack beasts to the wharf, where his bales wereaccepted for shipment. Leaving his goods, he led his animals back to themarket.

  Old Kerunar shook his head when he saw Musa. "Be careful, son," hecautioned. "I've been coming here for twenty years. Used to trade inNorlar, too. But you couldn't get me over there now for ten thousandcaldor."

  "Oh?" Musa looked at him curiously. "What's wrong?"

  Kerunar looked at his newly set up booth. Hung about it were durablegoods and trinkets from a dozen cities. There were articles even fromfar-off Telon, in the Konassan gulf. He looked back at Musa.

  "Norlar," he declared, "has fallen into the hands of thieves andmurderers. You can trade there, to be sure. You can even make a profit.But you cannot be sure you will not excite the avarice of the Kondarans,or arouse their anger. For they have a multitude of strange laws, whichthey can invoke against anyone, and which they enforce withconfiscation of goods. Death or slavery await any who protest theiractions or question their rules." He paused.

  "Some manage to trade, and come back with profitable bales. Some leavetheir goods in the hands of the priests of Kondaro. Some remain, to finda quick death. But I stop here. I prefer to deal with honorable men.When I face the thief or the bandit, I prefer to have a weapon in myhand. A book of strange laws can be worse than any bandit born."

  Musa looked about the market. "Here, of course," he acknowledged, "arethe goods of the Far East. But I must see them at their source." Heshook his head. "No," he decided, "I shall make one trip at least."

  "I'll give you just one word of caution, then," he was told. "Whateveryou see, make little comment. Whenever you are asked for an offering,make no objection, but give liberally. Keep your eyes open and youropinions to yourself."

  "Thanks." Musa grinned. "I'll try to remember."

  "Don't just remember. Follow the advice, if you wish to return."

  Musa's grin widened. "I'll be back," he promised.

  * * * * *

  The harbor of Tanagor, chief seaport of Norlar, was full of shipping.Here were the ships which plied the trackless wastes of the Eastern Sea.Huge, red-sailed, broad-beamed, they rode at anchor in the harbor,served by small galleys from the city. Tied up at the wharves, were thesmaller, yellow and white-sailed ships which crossed the channel betweenthe mainland and the island empire.

  Slowly, Musa's ship drew in toward the wharf, where a shouting gang ofporters and stevedores awaited her arrival. Together with otherpassengers, Musa stood at the rail, watching the activity on the pier.

  Four slaves, bearing a crimson curtained litter, came to the wharf andstopped. The curtains opened, and a man stepped out. He was not large,nor did his face or figure differ from the normal. But his elegantlyembroidered crimson and gold robes made him a colorfully outstandingfigure, even on this colorful waterfront. And the imperious assurance ofhis bearing made him impossible to ignore.

  He adjusted his strangely shaped, flat cap, glanced about the wharfhaughtily, and beckoned to one of the slaves, who reached inside thelitter and took from it an ornately decorated crimson chest. Anotherslave joined him, and the two, carrying the chest with every evidence ofreverent care, followed their crimson-cloaked master as he strode into apier office.

  Musa turned to one of the other merchants, his eyebrows raisedinquiringly.

  "A priest of Kondaro," whispered the other. "In this land, they aresupreme. Take care never to anger one of them, or to approach tooclosely to the sacred chest their slaves carry. To do so can mean promptexecution."

  As Musa started to thank the man for his friendly warning, a cry of"Line Ho!" caused him to turn his attention to the mooring parties.Lines had been cast aboard at bow and stern, and the ship was rapidlybeing secured to stout bollards ashore.

  A gang of stevedores quickly rigged a gangway amidships, and porterscommenced streaming aboard to carry the cargo ashore. Another gangwaywas rigged aft for the passengers. At the foot of this, stood one of thepriest's litter bearers, a slave with a crimson loincloth. In his hands,he held a large, red bowl, which was decorated with intricate golddesigns. Beside him, stood his companion, a sturdy, frowning fellow, whoheld a large, strangely shaped sword in his hand. Musa's previous mentorleaned toward him nodding to the group.

  "Don't forget or fail to put a coin in that bowl," he cautioned."Otherwise, you'll never get passage on one of the sacred ships."

  "How much?" queried Musa.

  "The more, the better. If you want quick passage across the Great Sea,better
make it at least ten caldor."

  Musa shrugged, reaching into his purse for a gold coin.

  "Maybe I should be in the priesthood myself, instead of the tradingbusiness," he told himself silently.

  As he passed the bowl, he noted that the other trader dropped only asilver piece. On the wharf, the incoming passengers were being guidedinto groups. Musa noted that his group was the smallest, and that hisprevious friend had gone to another, larger group. An official, tabletin hand, approached.

  "Your name, Traveler?"

  "Musa, trader, of Karth."

  "You have goods?"

  "I brought twelve bales. They are marked with my name."

  "Very