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By the time the third scream ripped out I recognized Tilda s voice. I staggered a little, and gripped onto
the bedpost. The wooden floor with its scattered rugs of bright Walfarg weave swayed under me like the
deck of a frigate blockading Brest. I shook my head. I had my old scarlet breechclout wrapped around
my middle and my rapier in my fist. Hastily I snatched up the main-gauche and started for the door.
The door burst open and young Pando appeared, his hair wild, his eyes reflecting more of the red light
than the green, his whole body animated with anger and furious defiance. He shouted at me, his words
tumbling over one another, a little dagger in his fist that shook with his passion.
 The Pandrite-forsaken devils! He danced up and down.  They re insulting Mother  Dray! Come
on! You ve got to help!
 I m coming, Pando. I set straight for the door and bounced from the jamb. Pando grabbed my arm
and steered me through the doorway.  You d best not stick  em with that toothpick, Pando, I said.
 You ll only upset them.
 I ll degut  em all! he shrilled. He was only nine years old, as I had to remind myself, and he thought
everything in life was black and white.
Then, as though commenting on my thoughts about him, he gave me a kick to help me on my way. I
wobbled toward the black-wood stairs, twisted, my feet shot from under me on one of the Walfarg rugs,
and down the stairs I went, bump, bump, bump, to the bottom. The bottom hit me hard.
Through the arched opening into the main room of the inn I could see the counter with its ranked
amphorae, its trim rows of sparkling glass cups, the covers over the food, everything neat and tidy and
waiting for evening when the men and women of Pa Mejab would crowd in for their evening s
entertainment.
The chief source of their entertainment was now struggling in the grip of three men. They were ruffians,
all right, intent on their prey. As I stood up, smarting, and stared blearily at them I fancied they were
leem-hunters, men from the back hills away to the west and probably men who would venture almost to
the Klackadrin itself. They wore clothes made from leem pelts, and broad leather harness, with
swaggering rapiers and daggers and large riding boots and all seeming to me to be very powerful and
blurry.
I blinked.
Tilda s blouse had ripped down over one shoulder and then the other, and the men laughed.
 Let go, you stinking cramphs! Tilda was yelling. Her long mane of black hair floated freely from her
head, swirling out, in truth, very much like the wings of an impiter. She got one arm free and slapped a
leem-hunter across his leathery, whiskered cheeks, whereat he roared with laughter, and, catching that
arm, bent it back and drew his face close to Tilda s.
 You won t dance for us, ma faril, when we ask all politely, so you ll dance to another tune now.
 Wait until we open our doors, rast!
 Hold on! shouted another of the men, too late, for Tilda s naked toes slammed into him. He doubled
up, clutching himself, and rolled away, both laughing and retching.
Yes, they were ruffians, all right. In from the country and wanting their fun. Pando ran past me, straight
up to them, and struck wildly with the dagger at the man gripping his mother.
 Pando! I yelled, alarmed.
The man back-handed Pando off. He staggered back, cannoned into a table, went over spilling the vase
of moon-flowers onto the floor. The man roared his good humor. About to bend again to Tilda he caught
sight of me, in the doorway, the rapier and main-gauche in my fists.
He straightened up and threw Tilda into the arms of the third man, who grabbed her  most familiarly, I
thought  whereat she squealed and tried both to kick and bite him.
 So what have we here, by the gross Armipand himself!
He ripped his rapier from its sheath, and the dagger followed as quickly. The man Tilda had kicked
hauled himself up, turning to face me, his features still twisted and the tears still in his eyes. For a moment
the tableau held in the main room ofThe Red Leem. I was conscious of the stupidity of all this. My head
rang as though a swifter s oars were beating my skull all the way along the hull of a
two-hundred-and-tenswifter.
 You had best release the lady, I said with some difficulty.
They guffawed.
 A tavern wench a lady! Haw, haw!
I shook my head in negation  and that was a mistake. All the bells of Beng-Kishi clanged resonantly
inside my skull.
 She is not a tavern wench. She is Tilda, the famous entertainer, a dancer and actress. She is, I added
with words more like myself,  not for scum of the likes of you.
 Ho! A ruffler! The leader of the leem-hunters abruptly threw himself into the posture of the
fighting-man.  A swagger with a rapier and dagger! Come on, little man, let us see you back your words
with your sword point.
When I say my legs felt like rubber, it would be more correct to say I could hardly feel them at all, and
my knees seemed like mashed banana. I took a step forward, and my rapier point described trembling
circles.
The three men laughed hugely.
 Serve him as you served the landlord, Gorlan!
Portly Nath, the landlord, lay huddled beyond an overturned table. All I could see of him were his legs
and feet in their satin slippers, and his balding head, the face turned away from me, and a small trickle of
blood. He was not dead, for he moaned; but he had been struck a shrewd blow.
 I am not a fat old innkeeper, I said.
 Then I will open your tripes and find out! said this Gorlan, flickering his blade very swiftly before me.
He lunged.
My dagger seemed  of its own volition and without any conscious effort of my muscles  to do as it
pleased. It sliced up, deflected the rapier blade in a screech of metal, and so drove Gorlan back, with a
spring, his face abruptly blackening with thwarted anger.
 You miserable cramph! he bellowed.
He drove in again, powerfully, overbearing me by sheer weight and ferocity. My twin blades beat him
off. The metal slithered and clanged, sliding and twisting with many cunning tricks and turns. He scored a
long slicing cut across my left arm and then my rapier point pressed into his throat and his dagger flew
spinning across the inn. I did not hear it land.
 Oh, Gorlan, I said, rather thickly and with the world jumping and dancing with purple spots and
streaks of white fire.  Oh pitiful little Gorlan!
 His face blanched. It was a very wonderful sight to see that swarthy visage drain of blood, the eyes glare
in terror upon me, the lips go suddenly dry.
 Dray! screeched Tilda.
I swiveled to my right, taking the rapier around ninety degrees and showing its point to the man Tilda had
kicked and who was now rushing upon me with drawn sword. My left hand gripping the main-gauche
swung around with my movement and my fist smashed sloggingly into Gorlan s jaw. He dropped like a
sack.
The second man hauled up, his rapier engaging mine, and for a short space we circled. With an oath the
man grasping Tilda flung her from him, drew his own weapons, and charged in upon me at the side of his
companion. The difficulty of focusing nearly betrayed me; I did not want to kill these two, as I knew they
would not wish to kill me. This was a tavern brawl over a woman  as far as they were concerned a
tavern wench  and they knew the arm of the law of Pandahem stretched here to Pa Mejab. As for me,
the same strictures obtained. That Tilda was in very truth a famous actress, here in this colonial port city
of Pandahem only because she had married for love, and her soldier husband had been killed here,
leaving her stranded with her nine-year-old son Pando, meant nothing to them, although it meant a great
deal to me.
So I engaged, and parried, and feinted, and took their blades upon my dagger, and thrust in the attempt
to disable them. And all the time the world pressed roaring and swirling in upon me, my sight dimmed. I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]