"Master Kerin!" said a male voice. Resplendent in his best white turban and a crimson jacket with buttons of semiprecious stones, Rao appeared. "Go you ashore? May I come, too?"
The young Mulvani moved unsteadily. He had lost some weight, and isolation from sunlight had lightened his skin; but he seemed to be cheerful and ripe for adventure.
"Certes," said Kerin. "Art ready?"
"Aye, verily. Let's forth!"
Kerin said: "I really must practice my Mulvanian more. Promise to correct me whenever I err!"
The town possessed more interesting features than Kerin had thought. There was, for instance, a little museum containing relics of its past, such as the turban of its founding father and the ax he had cut down trees with. Since the captions on the labels were in Mulvani, Kerin was glad that Rao could interpret them. Rao eagerly explained the Mulvanian system of writing; by the end of the visit Kerin could sometimes decipher a word in a caption.
At the city hall, Kerin noticed a clock in the tower. Wondering if this were one of the clocks installed by his father, he asked the guard at the door:
"May we go up the tower to look at your clock? I am in the business."
"You may not go up without me," said the guard, "and I . . . Wait! 'Tis almost time to refill the tank. I will escort you two gentlemen up to the clock, if you will haul the buckets."
The guard picked up two buckets and filled them at the nearby well. Rao looked puzzled. "Does he expect me to carry a bucket? That's no proper kind of work for one of my caste."
"Oh, futter your caste!" said Kerin. "I was brought up to do whatever job had to be done and not fuss about it. Do you want me to tote both buckets?"
"Well—ah—all right, if you'll not tell my compatriots. They would scorn me if they knew.''
While Kerin caught his breath after the climb to the top of the tower, the guard emptied both buckets into the tank of a large water clock. Evidently the travels of Evor the Clockmaker had not carried him to Akkander, or he would have sold them a mechanical clock.
The sun had been near the meridian when they set forth and was low in the west by the time they had done with the sights of Akkander. When they passed a drink shop with a space behind the bar for four tables, at which a couple of locals sat on cushions on the floor eating, Kerin and Rao exchanged glances. Without discussion, they made their way in and were presently seated enjoying the local liquor, another variety of
tari.
Kerin expected a long delay for their dinners; smaller eateries seldom carried a reserve of perishables. Therefore someone had to go out and buy the items ordered before they could be cooked.
Kerin was into his second mug, and Rao was expounding the mighty magical feats of his master, when a young woman glided up, saying: "You gentlemen look lonesome. May I join you?"
She spoke the local dialect of Mulvani, which Kerin could follow with some difficulty. Small and dark, she was clad in Mulvanian fashion in a length of filmy, peachcolored material wound round and round to make an ankle-length skirt. She also wore multiple strings of beads around her neck, earrings, bracelets, and a jeweled nose ornament.
Kerin had become so used to Janji's bare breasts that the sight no longer roused his lust. He said: "Certes, mistress. Pull up a cushion; the table is big enough. Who are you?"
"Call me Yakshi. Tell me of yourselves, you big, beautiful strangers!"
Rao continued the tale of his guru's magical prowess. The girl hung on his every word. After a while she raised her eyes and said: "Oh, there is my friend Surya. Wouldst mind if she, too, joined us?"
"The more the merrier!" cried Rao. "As I was saying, when the demon escaped from the pentacle, the mighty Ghulam . . ."
The second young woman, similarly clad but in a skirt of turquoise blue, glided up. Soon both were hanging on Rao's words. The latter was into his third mug, so that the words became a trifle slurred. But his narrative aptitude was not affected, and the floodgates of his natural garrulity were opened.
"And then," he said, "there was the time when the mighty Ghulam and I were prospecting for gems along the banks of the Shrindola, near the site of ancient Culbagarh. We had stopped in a little glade to eat our midday meal, when a tiger came out of the jungle and started towards us, slinking along with its belly dragging the ground.
"I said to my guru: 'Master, cast a spell, yarely, ere we be devoured!' So he made passes and muttered formulae. The tiger kept right on, aiming for me. When it sprang up in its final rush, I awaited not the order of my going but leaped into the branches of a big banyan tree, which, praise Kradha, grew at the edge of the glade. I never climbed so fast in my life. At that, the brute's claws scored the bark a finger's breadth below my feet.
"The tiger slid back to earth, roaring with vexation. Then it sat at the foot of the tree, looking hungrily up. Meanwhile Ghulam squatted quietly nearby, eating; the tiger ignored him.
" 'Master!' I cried. 'What betides here?'
"Ghulam looked placidly up, saying: 'My boy, I did but cast upon myself a spell of aphanasis, so that the tiger fails to notice me. I lacked time for a more comprehensive spell to protect us both. Find thyself a comfortable seat, and in time the beast will tire of waiting and depart.'
"That was all very well for Ghulam to say, but after I had waited for over an hour, whilst the tiger showed no inclination to leave, I waxed impatient. I had, moreover, been so busy preparing Ghulam's lunch that I had not had time for mine own.
"So I complained, louder and louder. Having finished his own repast, my master wiped his mouth and said: 'Oh, very well.' He dug powders out of his knapsack and tossed them on our dying fire, and muttered and gesticulated. Presently there came a crashing, whereat the tiger looked around. Out into the glade stepped a buffalo heifer. This beast took one look at the tiger, uttered a bawl of terror, and fled away into the jungle with the tiger bounding after.
"Ghulam called up: 'Thou mayst come down now, Rao. Yon simulacrum of a heifer will dance ahead of the tiger for twenty or thirty leagues, or until the tiger run out of breath and quit. We shall see no more of that fellow today, I'll warrant!'
"And speaking of buffaloes, there was the time we happened upon a herd of wild buffalo unawares. They lined up before us, and some of the bulls snorted, pawed the earth, and lowered their heads. Plainly they were about to charge. I said:
" 'Cast a spell quickly, Master!'
" 'No time for that,' quoth he. 'Run at them shouting and waving thine arms!'
" 'Art mad?' I said.
" 'Nay; do as I say, and thou shalt see.'
"So, with much trepidation, I charged the buffalo, shouting and waving. To my surprise, one turned away, and in a trice all were fleeing into the forest.
"Returning to Ghulam, I asked how he knew this outcome beforehand. He replied: 'In any sizable group, there will be at least one faint of heart, who will flee any wight who rushes upon him. When this one flees, the sight strikes the others with fear; and they, too, run. But attempt not this jape with a single bull. He may not be a coward, in which case thou wilt await thy next incarnation!'
"And then there was that crocodile that proved immune to spells and illusions. . . ."
Kerin felt his nose a little out of joint, since both Akkandrines gave their attention to Rao while ignoring Kerin. He blamed this partiality on Rao's richer appearance, since Kerin had not donned his best clothes.
His twinge of resentment in turn aroused in Kerin a twitch of suspicion. The girls, he was sure, were local whores. Perhaps this was a good chance to get rid of his long-resented virginity. But again, Jorian had warned him that taking up with chance-met locals might get the traveler more than he bargained for. Besides, Kerin was too embarrassable to ask right out: How much? Still, if either girl turned her charm upon him. . . .
Surya asked: "Have you handsome gentlemen ordered yet?"
"Nay," said Rao. "The hosh—host told us the cook be off on an errand but will soon return. Then the mighty Ghulam—"
"Then," continued Surya, "why go we not to my little house, where we can eat, drink, and amuse ourselves without the presence of others?"
"Very kind of you," began Kerin, "but—"
"A splendid idea!" crowed Rao. "Lesh go, Kerin old boy!"
"We shall have a wonderful party!" said Yakshi. "Surya shall sing whilst I play the
plong
."
"Beware, Master Kerin!" buzzed Belinka in Kerin's ear.
"Now wait!" said Kerin. He eyed Surya and said in careful Mulvani: "How much will this party cost?" When the girl looked blank, he repeated the sentence to Surya, who said in her own dialect—Kerin thought exaggerated—"I am sorry, but I understand not."
Kerin then spoke in Novarian to Rao: "Look, we know these damsels not. They may have their pimp waiting to knife us."
"Oh, nonsense!" said Rao. "They're jush a couple of shweet little whores who wouldn't hurt a fly. Besides, I hate going back to that damnable ship, which bounces me about like a cork—"
"Well, I'm not going with them, and that's that. You do as you wish."
"Scared?"
"Being careful, that's all. You wouldn't want to risk that thing around your neck, would you?"
"Oh. Now that you mention it. . . ." Rao fumbled inside his jacket, pulled out the little sack of oiled silk, and hoisted the chain over his head. He had to doff his turban to get it off. Handing the package to Kerin and replacing the turban, he said:
"All right, you go back to the ship whilsh I make merry with these little lovelies. Take good care of that document! Here's where I prove my manhood—with both, shee if I don't!"
They rose. Rao slapped down on the counter a gold piece worth, Kerin guessed, many times the value of the drinks they had drunk. Rao's penurious master, Kerin thought, would have been horrified. Without asking for change, Rao wavered out between the two girls, one supporting his staggering steps on either side.
Kerin turned back towards the waterfront. As he walked, he wondered if he had not, through timidity, lost out on a pleasurable experience. If only he had some magical device to tell him how far it was safe to go in such situations. . . .
As, under a twilit sky, Kerin walked down the gangplank of the
Dragonet,
Belinka buzzed: "Well done, Master Kerin! I was watching. Had you not refused that invitation, I should have made someone smart for it! Now beware the witch Janji, who hath nefarious plans!"
"I'll try to govern my evil passions."
Janji appeared from the deckhouse. "Master Kerin, where is your shipmate Rao?"
"Still ashore, trying to prove his manhood on a couple of harlots."
"Akkander is not the safest town for such adventures. He may be knocked on the head and robbed."
"I tried to warn him, but . . ." Kerin spread his hands.
"Hast dined?"
"Nay; the party broke up ere we reached that stage. Couldst—ah . . ."
"Certes; I'll put another portion on the stove. When you're cleaned up, I shall see you in the captain's cabin."
When Janji had cleared away the monotonously vegetarian repast, she said: "I am pouring you another, yes?"
"Thankee, but nay," said Kerin, remembering how liquor had loosened his tongue before.
"Oh, pray do take one more!"
"Nay!" said Kerin emphatically, placing his hand over the goblet.
She put away the bottle. "Captain Huvraka will not come aboard again until morn. He is busy proving his love for both his wives. He says he can prove it all night long, but I have not the wives' side of the story. Anyway, he is sleeping late." She gave Kerin a level stare. "So, if you will tell me of your secret mission . . ."
Kerin thought frantically. "I—the fact is—'tis nought much; merely a commission from my brothers' general practitioner of iatric magic, Doctor Uller. He would fain discover the Kuromonians' spell for smiting one's foe with emerods."
"Forsooth?" said Janji in a skeptical tone. She leaned to one side as if listening, then said: "That is not true, Master Kerin. I can tell."
In Kerin's ear he heard a tiny voice: "Her bir hath told her the tale be a lie."
"I do assure you—" began Kerin.
"Oh, go futter yourself!" cried Janji, rising. "You think to deceive me, foolish boy? You are spending your next incarnation as earthworm!" She marched out.
Kerin sighed. "Belinka, if you Second Plane sprites are so skilled at detecting Prime Planers' lies, why do we Kortolians not employ you in our courts, to tell which defender or accuser is telling the truth?"
Belinka gave a silvery laugh. "That hath been proposed, Master Kerin. But all the lawyers opposed it so vehemently that the idea was abandoned. They feared it would reduce them to beggary."
Rao did not return to the
Dragonet
that night, nor did he appear next morning. Captain Huvraka snorted: "The young fool should have known better."
Kerin asked: "Is there no authority in this town to trace down the missing man and, if he's been murdered, bring his slayers to justice?"
"As well try to spit on the moon as bring any local to justice here," said Huvraka. "If by some remote chance they caught the miscreant, he'd divide his loot with the magistrate and be let off with a scolding."
Nonetheless, the captain sent two of his sailors ashore to look for the missing passenger. Hours later they returned, saying the man seemed to have utterly vanished. Huvraka said:
"Belike the turtles and crabs in the swamps are devouring his corpse. We should have sailed at midday, since Akkander gives us no very bulky cargo. I'll hold the ship for a couple of hours more; but if he appear not, off we go."
Still without Rao, the
Dragonet
sailed in midafternoon and plowed into the Eastern Ocean. For several days, Kerin resumed his shipboard routine. He smote the rats and cockroaches that invaded his cabin; he watched Huvraka and Mota flog a sailor for some nautical malfeasance. He and Janji exchanged a few amenities but otherwise ignored each other.
The third day out, a storm blew up. Kerin, who had been preening himself on being a much better sailor than Rao, learned the pains of seasickness. Gripping the weather rail, barefoot and breechclouted like the sailors, he miserably looked up at the crest of a wave bearing down upon the
Dragonet
and, as the ship climbed, down into the watery valley yawning precipitously below. From the lowering, leaden sky, lukewarm rainwater sluiced over his body. As Huvraka, for once without his turban, hurried past, Kerin shouted over the roar of wind and wave: