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from these benches came very few slaves to join us.
There were plenty of others, though, to join us as we dispatched the Grodnims. The freed slaves leaped
joyously onto the deck ofCrimson Magodont as the Magdaggian swifter sank in a smother of bubbles
and breaking timbers.
NeemuandPearl, with their tows, had pulled ahead. We followed. I let the scenes of frantic joy blossom
on the gangway and forecastle as we pulled in toward the Pharos of Zandikar. Any man released from
slavery at the oars of a swifter from Magdag is entitled to leap and cavort, to shout and bellow, to
scream his thanks to Zair.
Many men fell to their knees and banged their heads against the flibre of the deck in utter thankfulness.
I did not tell them, yet, that they were entering a city under siege, that when their bellies hungered they
might yearn for the slop and the onions and crusts thrown to them on their oar benches.
Among the sailors of the inner sea the saying runs:  Easier a thorn-ivy bush than the Ten Dikars.
Truly, the maze of channels threading between islands and headlands leading to Zandikar are confusing
and treacherous. We had come safely through, thanks to Dolan, and now as we reached a broad calm
stretch of water the city rose beyond and patrolling Zandikarese swifters nosed in to attack. Now we did
not mind heaving to. The swifters assured themselves we were who we said we were  well, who some
of us said we were at the time  and very soon scenes of riotous joy spread from our decks and
gangways to the battlements and quays and streets of the city itself. Torches burst into flame as hundreds
of emaciated people flooded down to the quayside. I frowned.
 Fazhan  anchor out in the center of the harbor.
He nodded. If that lot of crazed and starving people sought to board we d be done for. Now the
mergem carried in the argenter proved of inestimable value. The ship carried enough to supply Zandikar s
normal population for a season, possibly; the war and the siege had wasted away at the people; they
would not starve now. As well, the chipalines would prove of great value, and the corps of crossbowmen
welcomed the bolts. I told my men to let the provender go freely into the town. No one could argue over
that. If it flushed out rasts, I would be happy.
The Todalpheme who lived in a small stone house by the Pharos came aboard and were fervent in their
thanks. These wise men who monitor the tides are protected by protocol and taboo from any harm from
another man. They were indignant that in the siege Prince Glycas had starved them, too. We gave them
mergem and sent them away, praising Zair, although I was coming around to a belief that the Todalpheme
of Kregen worshiped no gods that other men worshiped.
The rasts were duly smoked out.
They came aboard on the following morning as the business of unloading went on. Fazhan and Pur
Naghan had organized well. Boats pulled to the shore loaded with sacks of mergem. On the shore my
men and the harbor crossbowmen formed a hollow space with the crowds pressing outside, shouting and
screaming and raising a dust and tearing their clothes  but all with joy upon their faces. The sacks were
handed out. All who asked were supplied. Any boats approaching the argenter were kept off with
pointed bows. I knew that everyone of besieged Zandikar would eat well this night, even if it was only
mergem, and no one would starve.
The rasts came aboard, having shouted their own importance, and strode across my quarterdeck.
I looked at them. Oh, yes, they were familiar faces, their bearing was familiar, their manner of talk. I did
not know one of them; but I knew what they were. I had met in my career on Kregen aragorn,
slave-masters, overlords, great nobles, masters of the arena, Manhunters  in them there glowed the
same self-satisfied and preening knowledge of self-importance.
Their leader, a Ztrom,[5]flashily attired, adorned with many gems and much gold lace, carrying a Krozair
longsword, marched up and I noticed how his right hand crossed his body among the ruffles of gold lace
to rest on the hilt of the longsword. There was no doubt in my mind he could use the weapon, gold lace
or no damned gold lace. His face, as I have indicated, showed quite clearly he was for Cottmer s
Caverns when he was at last put where he belonged. I own I am intemperate in these matters.
 You are the master of this vessel?
 Aye.
 You address me asjernu. We shall take over now.
A commotion began on the quay. Armed men, mail clad, bearing swords, were beating the crowds
away. They were not overlords of Magdag; but from their demeanor and behavior they might just as well
have been.
There were six of them on the deck, and in their boat alongside waited a dozen more with the oarsmen. I
turned back as the Ztrom snarled  very adept at snarling are these people, the high and mighty of the
land  and drew that great sword. The blade flamed before my eyes.
 Cramph! Answer when I speak to you!
I said,  If you do not send your men away, you are a dead man. I did not draw my sword.
He gaped. He just did not believe his own two ears.
 Rast! I am Ztrom Nalgre ti Zharan, the king s councillor! All Zandikar does my bidding.
He swung about to order his five men. He stopped, abruptly, as a foolish ponsho stops when it butts its
head against the wall. A dozen archers, and chief among them Bolan the Bow, drew their shafts back and
held their glittering points upon the five.
I said, very gently,  Secure them all. Bind them well. You, so-called Ztrom Nalgre, I do not believe are
a Ztrom at all. You are a jumped-up devil, a sewer-rat, a cramph who steals food from starving people.
He struck then.
I slid the blow, stepped forward, and drove my fist into his belly. As he fell I took the sword away. One
thing was for sure, he was no Krozair.
He retched on the deck. I stirred him with my toe.  Him, too. Over the side the men in the boat were
shouting. I walked calmly to the bulwark by the quarterdeck varter. A rock rested in its beckets, like a
shot garland, ready. I leaned over and shouted.
 Go back to your cramph of a king and tell him if he touches the food for the people, his Ztrom Nalgre ti
Zharan will be hanged in the sight of all. Schtump!
One of the fools loosed a shaft. I moved my head. The arrow flew past. They just did not believe
anyone would cross them, deny their wishes. They had to be shown, and shown quickly. I lifted the rock
over my head in both hands, bent back, and then catapulted forward. It was a nice little throw. It took
the bottom out of their damned boat.
The next second they were in the water all caterwauling and yelling. We threw ropes down to them and
hauled them out and ran them down to the lock-up, a tiny brig that soon filled, and so we had to chain
them down on the gangway of the thalamite tier. Some of the oarsmen swam for the quay. I bellowed my
words after them. But so far, not so good. I had not done enough.
 No more sacks ashore, Fazhan  tell the argenter.
Very soon thereafter the crowds dispersed. The mail-clad riders dismounted and stood watching us. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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