Gaudy of cut the light of the sun to a rich in
the enormous, high-vaulted Audience Hall. A was audible
in the room as and fidgeted, waiting for
the of the Owner.
It had been two months since Gope had to me how a formal
challenge to an Owner was conducted, and, as he pointed out, this was
the only of challenge that would help. If I the man and
cut him down, in a fight, his would the
favor I the that I was their legitimate
new boss.
I had three hours every day in the at Rath-Gallion,
trading with Gope and a of the bodyguards. The
thirty-pound of had right at home in my hand that
first day--for about a minute. I had the knowledge to give
me all the I needed, but the power for the
knowledge into was another matter. After five minutes I was
slumped against the wall, air, while Gope his sticker
around my and talked.
"You on like no piper, good Drgon. Yet have you much to learn in
the of endurance."
--And he was at me again. I the back-pedaling and
making wild two-handed and down--pooped. I couldn't
have moved if Gope had had at me with a poker.
Gope and the others laughed they cried, then me away to my
room and let me sleep. They rolled me out the next to go at it
again.
As Gope said, there was no time to waste ... and after two months of it
I for anything. Gope had me that Owner Qohey was a
big fellow, but that didn't me. The they came, the bigger
the target....
There was a in a different key in the Audience Hall and tall
gilt doors opened at the of the room. A of liveried
flunkies into view, then a seven-foot man-eater into
the hall, his way to the dias, to the crowd....
He was enormous: his was as thick as my thigh, his features
chipped out of granite, the variety. He his brilliant
purple from his and out an arm like an oak
root for the one of the was with.
He took the with its sheath, sat down, and it his
feet, his arms on top.
"Who has a grievance?" he spoke. The voice like the old
Wurlitzer at the Rialto home.
This was my cue. There he was, just for it. All I had to do was
speak up. Owner Qohey would me. The that next to him
Primo Carnera would look shouldn't slow me down.
I my with a thin squeak, and forward, not very far.
"I have one little item--" I started.
Nobody was listening. Up a big in a black was pushing
through the crowd. Everybody to at him: there was a
craning of necks. The from the an opening.
The man in black into the clear, the flapping
garment from his right arm, and out a long length of
razor-edged iron. It was to look like somebody had me
to the punch.
The there in of Qohey with the making
all the threat that was needed. Qohey at him for a long moment,
then stood, to a flunky. The turned, his throat.
"The place of Bar-Ponderone has been claimed!" he in a shrill
voice. "Let the issue be joined!" He out of the way and Qohey
rose, his and cowl, and down. I pushed
forward to a look.
The in black his aside, facing
Qohey in a skin-tight and hose; of soft leather
were up the calf. He was but Qohey towered
over him like a tree, with a that would have taken the Mr. Muscle
Beach title any time he to try for it.
I didn't know to be or sad that the had been
taken out from under me. If the man in black won, I would I
then be able to step in in turn and take him on? He was a smaller
than Qohey but there was always the chance....
Qohey his iron and it like it was a lady's
putter. I sorry for the smaller man, who was just standing,
watching him. He didn't have a chance.
I had got through to the rank by now. The and I
saw his face. I stopped dead, while fire in my head.
The man in black was Foster.
* * * * *
In Qohey and Foster off, touched their sword
points to the in some of ... and Qohey's slicer
whipped up in a cut. Foster aside, just enough, then
countered with a that Qohey jump back. I let out a long
breath and swallowing. Foster was like a up against a
bull, but it didn't to him--only me. I had come light years
to him, just in time to see him his off.
Qohey's flashed, at Foster's head. Foster moved.
Almost effortlessly, it seemed, he his between
the and himself. _Clash, clang!_ Qohey and
chopped ... and Foster played with him. Then Foster's arm out
and there was blood on Qohey's wrist. A up from the crowd.
Now Foster took a step forward, ... and faltered! In an instant
Qohey was on him and the two men were locked, to chest. For a
moment Foster held, then Qohey's weight told, and Foster back.
He to up the sword, to struggle, then Qohey lashed
out again. Foster twisted, took the just above the hand
guard, ... and fell.
Qohey to him, the sword--
I mine way out of its and pushed forward.
"Let the man be put away from my sight," Qohey. He his
immense sword, turned, pushed a who had up with
a of bandages. As he from the room a of bodyguards
fanned out the and Foster. I see him clumsily
struggling to rise, then I was back, still for a
glimpse. There was something here; Foster had like a man
suddenly half-paralyzed. Had Qohey him in some way?
The stopped pushing, their to the crowd. I tugged
at the arm of the man me.
"Did you see anything there?" I started.
He free. "Strange? Yea, the of our Lord Qohey! Instead of
meting out death on the spot, our Owner was generous--"
"I about the fight." I his arm again to keep him from
moving off.
"That the would to the place of Owner at
Bar-Ponderone: there's wonder for any man," he snapped. "Unhand
me, fellow!"
I him and to my wits. What now? I a
bodyguard on the shoulder. He whirled, in hand.
"What's to be the of the man?" I asked.
"Like the Boss said: they're the for his pains."
"You him up?"
"Yeah. Just a to pass in every day ... so's he don't
starve, see?" The chuckled.
"How long--?"
"He'll last; don't worry. After the Change, Owner Qohey's got a
newman--"
"Shut up," another said.
The was slowly thinning. The were relaxing, standing
in pairs, talking. Two moved about where the had taken
place, making in the air above the floor. I edged
forward, them. They to be flowers.
Strange....
I moved to take a closer look, then saw a tiny
glint.... A across, gestures. I pushed him aside,
groped ... and my a of wire.
I it in, up more. The had stopped and stood
watching me, muttering. The whole area of the was with
the wires, up in two high.
No wonder Foster had stumbled, had trouble his sword. He had
been netted, in a of wire ... and
in the light the twenty away hadn't it. Owner
Qohey was a good man with the but he didn't on that alone
to onto his job.
I put my hand on my hilt, my lip. I had found
Foster ... but it wouldn't do me--or Vallon--much good. He was on
his way to the dungeons, to be up until the next Change. And
it would be three months I legally make another try for
Qohey's place. After him in action I was I hadn't tried
today. He wouldn't have needed any to me.
I would have to the next three months on my swordplay,
and Foster out. Maybe I a message--
A on the sent me spinning. Four moved to
ring me in, in hand. They were to me, but across the
room I saw Torbu looming, looking my way....
"I saw him; he started to that sword," said one of the
guards.
"He was me questions--"
"Unbuckle it and it," another ordered me. "Don't try anything!"
"What's this all about?" I said. "I have a right to wear a Ceremonial
Sword at an Audience--"
"Move in, boys!" The four men toward me, the came up.
I off a with my left arm, took a crack
across the face, myself going down--another blow, and another:
killing ones....
Then I was aware of being dragged, endlessly, of voices barking sharp
questions, of pain.... After a long time it was dark, and silent, and I
slept.
* * * * *
I and the was dead, muffled. I put out a hand and touched
stone on my right. My left touched stone. I an instinctive
move to up and my against more stone. My new room was
confining. Gingerly I my ... and at the touch. The
bridge of my nose different: it was than it used to be,
in of the swelling. I and the pattern of pain.
There was the nose--smashed flat--with secondary around the eyes.
They'd be shiners, if I see them. Now the left arm: it
was close to my and when I moved it I saw why: it wasn't
broken, but the wasn't right, and there was a bruise
above the elbow. My and shin, as as I reach, were caked
with blood. That figured: I being dragged.
I deep-breathing; my to be okay. My hands worked. My
teeth were in place. Maybe I wasn't as as I felt.
But where the was I? The was hard, cold. I needed a big soft
bed and a little soft nurse and a and a cold drink....
Foster! I my again and back, some more. It
still dead.
I swallowed, my lips, a that ran well into the
bristles. I had the Audience clean-shaven. Quite a hours
must have passed since then. They had taken Foster away to him,
somebody said. Then the had me, me over....
Immured! I got a third on the head. Suddenly it was hard to
breathe. I was up, sealed away from the light, under the
foundations of the towers of Bar-Ponderone. I their crushing
weight....
I myself to relax, breathe deep. Being wasn't the
same as being alive--not exactly. This was the method these
latter-day Vallonians had out to end a man's life
effectively ... without all his lives. They to keep
me here until my next Change, thus another
healthy for the or the stables. They didn't know the
only Change that would to me was death.
They'd have to me; that meant a hole. I ran my along the
rough stone, an eight-inch square opening on the left wall, just
under the ceiling. I through it, nothing but the solidness
of its thick sides. How thick the was I had no way of determining.
I was dizzy. I and to think....
* * * * *
I was again. There had been a sound. I moved, and something
hit my chest.
I for it; it was a small of hard bread. I the sound
again and a second object against me.
"Hey!" I yelled, "listen to me! I'll die in here. I'm not like the rest
of you; I won't go through a Change. I'll here till I die...!"
I listened. The was absolute.
"Answer me!" I screamed. "You're making a mistake...!"
I gave up when my got raw. The people who the bread
through the little to the had a of yelling
in their time. They didn't any more. I for the other item
that had been pushed in to me. It was a water bottle of tough
plastic. I the cap off, took a swallow. It wasn't good. I tried
the bread; it was tough, tasteless. I and chewed, and what
I was to do about facilities; it was an interesting
problem. I see it was going to be a great life, while it lasted.
I laughed: a weak of despair.
As a world-saver I was a bust. I hadn't been able to around
to out my Foster after Qohey had booby-trapped him. I
wondered where he was now. Sealed up in the next cubby-hole probably.
But he hadn't answered my yells.
Yeah, mine had been a great idea, but it hadn't out. I had come
a long, long way and now I was going to die in this hole. I had
a of uneaten, and life unlived. I would have been
good for another anyway--
And then I had another thought: if I had them was it going to be
because I hadn't tried? Abruptly I was planning. I would keep and
use my head. I wouldn't wear myself out with and struggles. I'd
figure the angles, use I had to make the best try I could.
First, to the tomb-like cell. It to move, but that
didn't matter. I over the walls, size. My was
three wide, two high, and seven long. The were
relatively smooth, for a joints. The were big:
eighteen or so by a of feet. I at the mortar;
it was hard.
I how they'd me in. Some of the must be newly
placed ... or else there was a door. I couldn't anything as as
my hands would reach. Maybe at the other end....
I to around: no go. The people who had the knew
just how to it to keep the the way they
wanted him. He was to just and wait for the bread
and water to through the above his chest.
That was to positions. If they wanted me to stay
put I'd at least have the of the rules. And there
just might be a why they didn't want me moving around.
I on my side, my up, them to my chest, worked
my way ... and jammed. My and didn't help any.
I them higher, at the pain, then my hands against
the and and my toward my feet....
Still no go. The was my back. I moved my knees
apart; that the pressure a little. I another inch.
I rested, to some air. It wasn't easy: my was crushed
between my and the at my back. I shallowly,
wondering I should go or try to push on. I to move
my legs; they didn't like the idea. I might as well go on. It would
be no fun either way and if I waited I'd up, while inactivity
and no food and of blood would me every moment. I
wouldn't do next time--not as well. This was the time. Now.
I set myself, pushed again. I didn't move. I pushed harder, my
palms against the stone. I was stuck--good. I suddenly.
Then I panicked, in the of claustrophobia. I snarled, rammed
my hands hard against the and wall, and heaved--and my
lacerated along the stone, on a of
blood. I pushed again, my curved, doubled; my were forced
up my ears. I couldn't breathe at all now and my was
breaking. It didn't matter. I might as well it, off all the
hide, to death; I had nothing to lose. I again, the
back of my grate; my bent, ... then I was through,
stretching out to on my back, gasping, my where my had
been. Score one for our side.
* * * * *
It took a long time to my and out my various
abrasions. My was then my and hands. There was a messy
spot on the of my and pains my spine, and I
was of through my mouth of my smashed
nose. Other than that I'd in my life. I had of
room to in, I breathe. All I had to do was rest, and after
a while they'd some more and water in to me....
I myself awake. There was something about the darkness
and that my mind want to up and sleep, but there was
no time for that. If there had been a set in to
seal the after I had been inside, this was the time to
find it--before it set too hard. I ran my hands over the wall, found
the joints. The was and hard in the first; in the next ...
under my soft away. I the joint;
it ran around a twelve-by-eighteen-inch stone. I myself on my
elbows, settled to at it.
Half an hour later I had ten and a half-inch dug
out around the stone. It was slow work and I couldn't go much farther
without a tool of some sort. I for the water bottle, took off the
cap, to it. It wouldn't crush. There was nothing else in
the cell.
Maybe the would move, and all, if I hard enough.
I set my against the end wall, my hands against the block, and
strained until the blood in my ears. No use. It was planted as
solid as a mother-in-law in the bedroom.
I was there, just about it, when I aware
of something. It wasn't a noise, exactly. It was more like a
fourth-dimensional the brain ... or the memory of
one.
But my next was perfectly real. I four little feet
walking up my toward my chin.
It was my cat, Itzenca.
