The Swords of Zinjaban

XII - Enrique Schlegel

Another moon had passed since the rout of the nomad horde. Reith had presided over makeshift rites for the fallen Krishnan soldiers and the rash Fodor, who had died like the hardy barbarian he had always yearned to be. Dutifully, Reith had consoled the late director's widow and mistress, although he sensed ambivalent feelings in both.

Reith sent Timásh to Novorecife via Kolkh, to pick up the accumulated mail and to return with Zerré. He thought that an extra subordinate, loyal to him, might be useful on the journey home.

While Alicia and several women from the shooting crew assisted the Krishnan army surgeon in tending the wounded, a subdued motion-picture company, under Hari Motilal's fussy direction, completed the final takes. The script had been revised to make the most of the battle; and Krishnan knights and men-at-arms, some clad in garments from the Qaathian corpses, reenacted scenes from the fight. The Krishnans grumbled about the stench of the nomads' filthy attire and the heat of the heavy woollens under a blazing sun.

Sobered by genuine battle and death, the shooting crew, anxious to finish and begone, completed their work with dispatch. One day when the sky clouded over and a brisk rain fell, the actors and the crew spent the time in the studio tent, making blue-screen shots and voice-overs. To pass the afternoon, Reith wandered among the forest of stands bearing lights and reflectors and picked his way over a floor cluttered with coils and loops of cable. He overheard Olson the gasser saying to Motilal: "Number three hoarder is getting weak. If she goes, with number four dead, we'll be up the well-known creek."

"A couple of inkies will do for this shot," replied Motilal. "It's a night scene." He turned to Fairweather. "Now, Randal, go back to 'How could I have doubted you?' and run through it again. Try to sound more British! American audiences think it's more aristocratic, the way a prince ought to sound. Speak as I do."

"You mean with a Hindi accent?" said Fairweather with ostentatious innocence.

Motilal hurled his roll of script to the floor. "No, damn it! I am speaking perpect Oxpord English! I mean—oh, devil take you!" Quivering with rage, the little man mastered his passions. "My good Mister Pair— Fairweather, will you be so kind as to go through that scene again, beginning at 'How could I—T'

After an hour of watching, Reith returned to the tent he now shared with Alicia and buried his nose in a grammar of the language of Katai-Jhogorai.

Atop the long slope to the river, in the village of Zinjaban, the folk went about their daily tasks. When they could steal time from work, they and their children gathered to gape at the aliens' movie-making. Some shyly offered edibles as thanks for their deliverance from the nomad horde.

Timásh returned from Novorecife, bringing with him Zerré and a young Khaldonian, who introduced himself as Minyev's cousin Yinkham. He had, he said, received word that Minyev was leaving his post with Reith and was recommending Yinkham for the job.

"My God, what effrontery!" exclaimed Reith in English to Alicia.

"We'd better learn what he knows about the Vizman business," said Alicia. "He may be entirely innocent."

"Maybe," said Reith grimly, "but he'll have to work like a beaver to convince me of that. You'd better ask the questions, since you speak better Khaldonian than I."

Alicia began the interrogation. Yinkham gave his place and date of birth and his relationship with Minyev. Then he asked: "Madam, be ye not the Doctor Dyckman whereof I have heard my cousin speak?"

"Yes. What had he to say about me?"

"Oh, he always spoke in terms of the most lavish praise. He said that ye ought to be the queen of a Krishnan kingdom; if it was ever within his power to do so, he would try to bring that event to pass."

An hour's rigorous questioning convinced Reith that Yinkham knew nothing of Alicia's abduction, and Alicia agreed with this conclusion. The Khaldonian, however, revealed several limitations. He was not fully mature, and like Minyev he was small and slight. Moreover, he had only a smattering of Mikardandou and knew no Terran tongues at all.

"He's got a long way to go," said Reith. "I don't know that it's worth my while to try to teach him all he needs to know, or whether I'd do better to pick some promising local boy."

"Are you going to send him packing?"

"I might, if we were back at the ranch. I won't fire him now, but keep him with us on the way home to see how fast he learns and how willing he is to turn a hand to tasks we ask him to do."

At last the final takes were in the can. The Krishnan cavalry regiments struck their tents and packed their gear. As an afternoon sun danced on the rippling Khoruz, the two long columns of armored ayamen, like silver serpents, took to the dusty roads, the Ruzuma moving north towards Kolkh and the Mikardanduma east towards Mishé, their standards languidly waving in a lazy breeze.

For the return to Novorecife, Reith had intended to lead the Cosmic crew to Kolkh and thence along the Pichidé' via Rimbid to the spaceport. But Motilal, now director, insisted on going back by way of Mishé to film some street and temple scenes that Fodor had deleted from the original script.

Reith would not have minded the change of plan if he could have kept Alicia with him; but this proved impracticable. The small, infrequent wayside inns along the road to Mishé dictated that the Cosmic crew be split amebawise into halves and travel a day apart. The first half would reach a designated inn, fill it to capacity, and depart the following morning. By dusk, the second contingent would arrive to occupy the abandoned quarters. Timásh would ride ahead of the lead party to reserve accommodations, and Zerré would bring up the rear to collect stragglers and unremembered belongings. Each section of the cosmic crew required a competent guide; and since Strachan's wound was not sufficiency healed, and Fallon had left days before, Reith and Alicia must each shepherd a moiety.

On the day before the first group's departure, having sent Timásh on his way with Minyev's young cousin, Reith ordered the Cosmic personnel to gather at the mess tent. Cyril Ordway was not present. Unable to bear the ridicule that had dogged him after his public thrashing, Ordway had already left camp despite Stavrakos's threat to fire him for desertion. Having found that it is easier to give gibes than to receive them, he had hired a local farmer to drive him in a light wagon all the way to Novorecife. Reith asked: "Who wants to go in the first group with me?"

"I go with you," said Kostis Stavrakos.

"And I," said Hari Motilal.

"Me, tool" said Cassie Norris.

When sixteen had volunteered, Reith called a halt. "The rest of you will leave two days hence, with Alicia."

Next morning, amid the usual bustle, clatter, and confusion, two omnibuses and one wagon were loaded. Stavrakos insisted that the canisters containing the exposed film and the costlier cameras be placed in the first wagon, where he could keep an eye on them. Doctor Mas'udi helped a hobbling Strachan aboard the second omnibus and sat beside him.

Just as Reith put a foot in the stirrup of Fodor's huge aya, Jengis, Cassie Norris rushed up. "Fergus! I want to go with the second party."

"Why? Accommodations are too tight for any more shifting around."

"It's that!" she said, pointing an accusatory finger.

Reith saw Fairweather and Valdez standing close to Alicia, vehemently arguing in low, tense voices, and realized that both had chosen to travel with the second group in hopes of a chance to be alone with Alicia.

Reith grinned. "You don't want Randal making a pitch for Alicia, eh?"

"No! I'll snatch her bald—"

"Calm down! I don't like that scenario, either. I'll see what I can do."

Reith strolled over to the disputants, leading his mount. As he approached, the men fell silent.

"Lish!" he said, crooking a finger.

They walked off together, leaving the two admirers glaring at each other. Out of earshot, Reith asked, "What's their argument?"

"Both want to ride in the gig with me," she replied. "I kept saying I'd pick my own passenger, but they refused to quit bickering."

"How about if we decide you haven't had enough carriage-driving, and we change places? You ride Jengis at the head of the first group while I drive the gig with the second. I don't think those lechers will quarrel over the privilege of riding with me!"

"What if they demand to go with the first group?"

"Too late! We already have as many in that lot as the smaller inns will hold. We won't announce it. Just climb aboard Jengis here and take off! By the time those jerks catch on, it'll be too late."

Reith made a stirrup of his hands. Alicia placed a toe in his cupped hands and swung into the saddle. She leaned down, smiling. "Give me a kiss for remembrance, Fearless ... See you in Mishé!"

She trotted the animal to the head of the column, raised an arm, and cried "Go!" The drivers cracked whips, and the vehicles lurched into motion.

Grinning, Reith strolled back to Fairweather and Valdez, who stood openmouthed. "We had a last-minute change. I hear both you fellows are hot to ride in the gig. You can flip a coin, or you can take turns enjoying my company."

Valdez sputtered "You—you—animalejo baboso!"

Reith laughed. "No quisiera ser cabrón! See you all here tomorrow at this hour."

Four days later, at Vasabád, Reith settled his people in the inn. As he finished assigning rooms, the taverner stopped him. "You are Sir Fergus Reit'? He who slew that ging of rogues in the temple of Bákh? Methought I espied a familiar face, notwithstanding that many oft maintain that all Terrans look alike."

"I am he," said Reith. "Is aught amiss? Your magistrate cleared me of wrongdoing."

"Nay, sir, he not concerned! Pray hide ye here; I'll return instanter."

The Krishnan departed at a run, leaving Reith to wonder whether the taverner had gone to raise a mob against him. Presently he heard a shout from the street: "Ohé, Sir Fergus! come ye forth!"

Reith drew a deep breath and, displaying a mien of more self-confidence than he felt, strode out the front door.

A swarm of townspeople had gathered before the entrance to the inn. Moment by moment their numbers grew.

In the front rank, Reith recognized the magistrate, his friend the priest of Bákh, and the mayor. "Well, sirs, why this assemblage?" asked Reith, concealing his trepidation as best he could. Hearing the commotion, members of the shooting crew crowded the common room behind Reith.

The mayor swelled visibly as he stepped forward. "Sir Fergus, we have gathered here, suspending our workaday tasks, to pay condign homage to the savior of our fair land. Though ye be a alien from a for, fantastical world, yet we know you for a true human being at liver ..."

The speech went on until, when the mayor paused for breath, Reith interjected: "Pardon, Your Honor, but I do not understand. Why think you I saved your country?"

"Ah, good my sir! When your fellow Terrans of the living-picture folk passed here last night, one, who spake our tongue, told us how ye devised the plan for the vanquishment of the barbarous riders of Qaath, against great odds, and how ye bravely fought and sustained a grievous wound in the battle."

He must mean Ken Strachan, thought Reith.

The major continued. "So we besought this Ertsu to tell us how we might do just honor to your esteemed self when ye in turn reached our splendid city, as this Master Satrakhan said ye would erelong. This Terran graciously vouchsafed to us that, in his world, a city would betimes give up one whom they wished thus to adulate a key to the city. Since our gates be secured by wooden beams, there is no such Key; but Master Satrakhan explained that any large key would serve as a symbol. So the worthy blacksmith, Master Hangra, working the night through, hath forged one for you."

The mayor raised a hand. Thereupon a burly Krishnan stepped forward with a huge iron key, having a stem the size of a baseball bat and a bit as large as a dinner plate.

"Sir Fergus Reef," said the mayor, "I have the inexpressible honor and ineffable pleasure to present to your surpassingly worthy self this minuscule token of our undying esteem!"

The blacksmith thrust the key into Reith's hands. The unexpected weight of twenty-odd kilos almost overbalanced him. He staggered, almost dropped the object, and recovered, as the mayor and the other Vasabáduma stared expectantly.

Reith, with the muscles of his lean arms taut, carefully lowered one end of the monster key to the ground. Knowing the Krishnan passion for fustian oratory, he launched into a speech that he had delivered on many formal occasions on Krishna.

"Dear friends! I have come to you from a distance so vast that the minds of mere mortals like unto us cannot truly grasp its magnitude; yet here, amongst folk of vastly different internal anatomy, I have found respect, friendship, and love. Verily, I have learned to regard your world as my true spiritual home ..."

After a quarter-hour, Reith ran out of clichés. He ended his speech with, "Last night, when the first group sojourned here, you beheld my affianced bride, Dr. Alicia Dyckman. In consequence of her breakneck ride to fetch reinforcements, her part in the victory was every bit as vital as my own. Since we shall soon wed, one key will suffice for the twain of us."

Reith paused to allow a ripple of Krishnan laughter. "In any case, my beloved and I offer our heartfelt thanks!"

The Krishnans whooped, cracked their thumb points, and hoisted Reith to their shoulders for an impromptu parade.

Roqir had set, and a gaggle of townsfolk were escorting Reith back to his inn, when a clatter of hooves interrupted the merrymaking. A lathered aya rounded a corner and staggered to a halt. The rider, Reith was astonished to see, was Jacob White, reeling in his saddle and gray with fatigue.

"Jack! What the devil?" exclaimed Reith, breaking away from his companions. White got a foot free, but instead of dismounting normally he collapsed in a heap on the cobblestones. Reith leaped forward and helped him up. White gasped: "They've kidnapped Alicia and Cassie!"

"What? Not again!" Fear knotted Reith's stomach, though he showed no sign save a tightening of his mouth. He dismissed his escort with a brief good night and turned back to White. "Who are 'they'?"

"Those Krishnan culture people. Schlegel."

Reith half led and half dragged the exhausted White into the common room of the inn and ordered a goblet of kvad for him. He himself took nothing, to avoid dulling bis wits. In a low voice he asked: "What for? Ransom?"

White gulped the liquid and coughed. He whispered "No, not ransom—I mean, not the usual kind. Not money."

"What, then? Come on, pull yourself together!"

"Please, I'm trying!" White took a deep breath. "Schlegel demands all the photographic equipment be turned over to him—every last camera, reflector, jar of developer, and scrap of film."

"What on earth for? Schlegel isn't going into the movie business, is he?"

"No. He wants to destroy Swords Under Three Moons—totally." White took another gulp of kvad.

"Go easy," warned Reith. "You're not a two-fisted drinker like Cyril. Why does Schlegel want to destroy our equipment?"

"He says the movie would show Krishnan culture in an unflattering light. It would increase Terrans' contempt for Krishnans. He'll destroy the cameras and stuff to make sure we don't reshoot the film while we're on this planet."

"He may be right about giving Krishna a poor image; but that's not my concern. I sighed on to protect you people and your property, whatever you do. Where are the girls being held?

"Somewhere in the big forest east of Gishing."

"Durchab Forest. Tell me, how did Schlegel nab them?"

"We don't know. I heard Cassie ask Alicia's advice on how to keep Bennett and Randal happy when she's sleeping with both. I guess they decided to walk down the road a ways, because that little inn is so crowded you can't say a private word. When they didn't come back by dark, Doc Hamid and I decided to go look for them. Just then an arrow with a message rolled around the shaft came whistling out of the woods and struck the front door of the inn. Here's the message!"

White handed Reith a small, torn sheet of native paper. Reith read:

TO THE OBERHAUPT OF THE CINEMA COMPANY: I HAVE YOUR WOMEN WHERE YOU SHALL FIND THEM NOT. I SHALL RETURN THEM UNHARMED WHEN YOU TO ME HAVE GIVEN ALL PHOTOGRAPHISCH EQUIPMENT FOR WELL-SERVED DESTRUCTION, A CRIME AGAINST KRISHNAN CULTURE TO PREVENT. WRAP YOUR REPLY AROUND THIS ARROW AND STAND IT UPRIGHT UPON THE ROAD. ATTEMPTS AT RESCUE OR TO ALERT KRISHNAN OFFICIALS WILL THE INSTANT DEATH OF THE WOMEN CAUSE.

SCHLEGEL

"Why did Stavrakos pick you to bring the news?"

White shrugged. "We tried to get one of the drivers to do it, with Strachan interpreting. But they wouldn't get involved in a quarrel among Earthmen. Strachan didn't trust any of them to deliver the message anyway. I'm not much of a rider; but I've had more experience than any of the others except Strachan, and he's not up to riding yet. What are you going to do?"

"Have to dunk," muttered Reith. "What did Stavrakos make of the kidnapping?"

"Said he'd rather let the whole company be slaughtered than give up the film."

"I might have guessed. But I wouldn't trust Schlegel to deliver his part of the bargain, either."

"Say, Fergus, why was that crowd of Krishnans carrying you back to the hotel?"

"They had a banquet for me at the town hall. Now I've got to make an announcement to my party. Help me to get them together."

The news caused consternation and an outburst of protests. Reith studied his fourteen Terrans. When the chatter died down, he beckoned to Fairweather and Valdez. He led them into the street, saying: "Are you two up to trying a rescue? We may all get killed; but you two are the only ones here who look as if you'd stand up to a fight to save Alicia and Cassie."

Fairweather grinned. "Hell, yes! I've rescued so many damsels in distress in my movies, I'd like to try the real thing once!"

"You, Ernesto?" said Reith.

"I will be a good soldier. It would, of course, lend extra courage if I thought the lady would express her gratitude in—in a suitable manner afterwards."

Reith scowled. "Damn it, if you think you're going to screw my fiancée as a reward—"

"No, no, Fergus; I was only joking. You do not understand the Latin sense of humor. I will be as brave as a lion."

"Okay. I want you two in bed early and up before dawn. We'll have to get some bows, even if we've got to rout the armorer out of bed. When we go after Schlegel, I'm your captain; whatever I say goes. Is it agreed?"

The two men mumbled assent.

As Roqir incarnadined the farmlands around Vasabád, Reith stood on the edge of a freshly-plowed field, teaching his companions to use the Krishnan crossbow.

"Hey!" said Fairweather. "This thing has sights. None of the crossbows in my medieval movies ever had em!"

Reith explained. "A Terran named Hasselborg introduced them around thirty years ago. Came out alive in a duel because of them. There was some stink about his violating the technological blockade, but all crossbows have sights now.

"To cock the weapon, put the muzzle end on the ground and stick your toe through the stirrup. Take the cocking lever in your right hand ..."

Reith had offered White a place in the enterprise; but the location manager begged off, saying he was done in by his all-day ride. Seeing him lying drawn and pale in bed, Reith admitted that nothing more could be expected of him for the time being. Reith had also sounded out the three Krishnan riders in charge of the remuda of spare ayas. But, like the drivers at Gishing, they refused to take part in a quarrel among Terrans.

So an hour later, the three rescuers were on the road to Gishing, Fairweather and Valdez mounted on ayas from the pool and Reith driving his gig. Beside Reith a half-dozen newly purchased crossbows were stowed, along with several swords left adrift after the battle at Zinjaban.

Fairweather and Valdez wanted to gallop the entire distance; but Reith insisted on leading the way in order to pace the beasts, varying their gaits from walk to trot to canter and back. His companions grumbled that he was wasting time.

"Damn it!" he burst out. "I've been riding and driving these critters for twenty-odd years, and I know what they can and cannot do. We won't get to Gishing a second later than I can help."

Arriving in midafternoon, the rescue party went to the little inn at the edge of the unwalled village. Before the inn stood the wagon that had accompanied the first group. The photographic equipment still lay under its tarpaulin; but on top of this, Olson the gasser and two other Cosmic employees were piling hay. The party's hand luggage stood in a neat row on the ground beside the vehicle.

The remaining crew members excitedly rushed out of the inn and surrounded the newcomers, yammering: "Hey, Reith, what are you going to do?"

"How'll you get us out of this fix?"

"Why didn't you foresee this kidnapping, if you know this world so well?"

"If anything happens to us, we'll sue you!"

"What's this?" demanded Reith, indicating the activity on the wagon.

"Ask Kostis," snapped Olson. "We're just following orders." Olson had been disagreeable to Reith ever since Reith had saved him from beheading. He was the sort of person who can never forgive one who does him a favor.

Reith found Stavrakos in his room, thumbing papers. When Reith repeated his question, Stavrakos explained: "I'm just getting ready in case we have to run for it. We're putting hay on the wagon and baggage on the hay, so if we're stopped, we'll say the photographic stuff is with the second group; this is just baggage. I hope that, at night in the dark, they won't look under the tarp."

"You mean you're planning to beat it, leaving the girls at Schlegel's mercy? Why, you—"

"Now, now, don't get angry, Fergus! I wouldn't do that unless I absolutely had to. But be practical! Ken Strachan tells me this Schlegel would as lief kill you as spit. The worst of it is, he's some kind of idealist, who thinks he's serving a cause. They're the worst land of nut; you can't bribe 'em."

Reith growled: "He's a con man who's come to believe his own line of crap."

Stavrakos continued: "Ken says that, even if we give up the film and stuff, there's no assurance Schlegel would turn over the dames. Both have probably been raped to a fare-thee-well, and he's liable to kill them to make sure they don't testify against him some day."

Reith winced.

"But look at the bright side," continued Stavrakos. "I'd be sorry to see you lose your fiancée, if that's what you call her; and Cassie's a hot movie property. But if she gets killed, think what it would do for the box office! Millions would go to see Cassie Norris's last film who otherwise wouldn't bother."

Holding a hammerlock on his temper, Reith said dryly: "Nobody's ever accused you of lack of business acumen. What have you heard from Schlegel since Jack left yesterday?"

"Oh, several of these damned arrows, back and forth. I sent word that if he'd loose the girls, I'd turn over my stuff. Of course I'd hide the cans of developed film; I'd tape 'em under the wagons or something. But he says no. He wants us to drive out on the Mish€ road till his men stop us. We're to line up and strip while he goes through our clothes and baggage before sending us on. Then, when he gets word we're on our way back to Earth, he releases the dames. I said no to that."

"Good," said Reith. "Keep the argument going, in oriental-bazaar style, while I see what I can do."

"What you got in mind, Fergus? A rescue?"

"Maybe. What about it?"

"Okay! Either you win, in which case the dames are free and Schlegel's dead; or he wins, and you and the girls are dead. Either way, there's nothing to stop the rest of us from lighting out. But how will you find them? We don't even know where in that forest they hang out; and we don't have bloodhounds."

Reith peered at Stavrakos through narrowed eyes. "You may not know it, Kostis, but I think you've solved our problem."

Reith found the Krishnan in charge of the spare ayas. For a generous fee, the wrangler agreed to take two of the animals, so that he could ride them alternately, and travel all night, reaching Mishé the following midday. There he would deliver to the Terran consul, Anthony Fallon, a letter from Reith about the kidnapping.

Fallon had left Zinjaban ahead of the Cosmic crew; and Timásh and Yinkham had been instructed, on arriving at Mishé, to get in touch with him. Reith asked that the consul order both hands to ride to Gishing forthwith.

The messenger clattered off into the night with Reith's precious message tucked into his glove. As Reith reentered the inn, the Cosmic people clustered around, asking: "Hey, Fearless, what now?"

"Are you gonna try a rescue?"

"When can we be on our way home?"

Bennett Ames growled. "Say, Fergus, if you're going to have a crack at those bastards, I want in. Cassie's my wife, after all."

"Good!" said Reith. "Any more volunteers?"

None spoke. Looking them over, Reith was not displeased. Of the males, all but Ames were too slight, too fat, too old, or too querulous. Reith shrugged aside further questions, saying: "Sorry, folks, but I've been on the go since dawn, and I'm half starved. See you in the morning!"

The sinking sun saw Reith teaching his volunteers swordplay and crossbow shooting in the backlot behind the inn. For fencing, he used the wooden swords designed for the battle scene of Swords Under Three Moons. He improvised protective gear and borrowed the shatterproof goggles owned by members of the crew.

He added a local hunter named Shedan to his band as a mercenary, promising the Krishnan more money than he normally saw in a year, because of his knowledge of Durchab Forest.

Ames grumbled: "Why all this practice, Fergus? They may be killing our girls right now!"

"So they may. But if we go stumbling around Durchab Forest like a herd of shaihans, they'll hear us coming and either ambush us or scram. So I'm waiting for my bloodhound."

"Your what?"

"I'm getting a bloodhound from Mishé to help us locate Schlegel's gang. Now let's see that stop-thrust again!"

Zerré arrived in the late afternoon. During the night, Reith was awakened by the arrival of Timásh and Yinkham. He sent them to bed but routed them and the volunteers out before dawn. He bullied them into dressing and eating a hasty breakfast, and led them out on the Mishé road as the sky was beginning to lighten above the morning mist.

"Why this ungodly hour?" complained Valdez. "I am not a human being before noon!"

"Keep your voice down!" snapped Reith. "Schlegel has people in the woods watching us. If we set out in daylight, they'll see us for sure."

"Where are we going?"

"Well leave the main road soon. Shedan knows the secondary roads and trails."

Ames mumbled, "Where's this bloodhound you're getting?''

"It's Yinkham here. See his extra-long antennae? He's a Khaldonian, which means he has a keener sense of smell than Krishnans of other races. When the wind was right, my former secretary could not only detect the approach of visitors half a kilometer away but even tell which species they belonged to." To Yinkham he said in Mikardandou: "Do you smell anything?"

"Only that people and animals have passed this way. I do not smell Terrans except those with you."

They walked in silence as the mists melted away. Reith unfolded a map and conferred in low tones with Shedan, tracing dotted lines on the sheet with his finger.

"This way," said Reith. He walked straight into the wall of vegetation bordering the road. Once past the screen of shrubs and saplings, they found themselves on an abandoned secondary road, invaded by seedling trees. The growing fight brought out the brilliant colors— azure, ruby, emerald, and gold—of the trunks of the Krishnan trees; it also illuminated the stealthy passage of the eight invaders.

A dawn breeze rustled the leaves. The squad tramped on, trading one road or trail for another. The sun was high when Yinkham at last held up a hand and whispered: "I smell human beings upwind, with a trace of Terrans."

"How many?" asked Reith.

"I cannot tell at this distance. I think several."

Reith got out the map and, with Shedan's help, located the point where they now stood. He drew an arrow through that point showing the wind direction. After conferring with Shedan, he went on. Another hour passed, and Yinkham said: "The wind hath shifted, sir. Now I smell them that way!" He pointed.

Again Reith marked the map, explaining in a whisper: "Their camp is probably near where those lines cross—at least, within a few hundred meters of it."

"How for?" breathed Fairweather.

"As a rough guess, another half-hour's hike."

They resumed their march, zigzagging on old overgrown trails. Reith hissed at them to make less noise in moving.

"How the hell can I help it, with all these damned bushes and things?" said Ames, after a twig beneath his foot snapped with a crack like a pistol shot.

"Watch Shedan." Reith nodded at the hunter, gliding noiselessly ahead of them.

Time passed. Yinkham held up a hand. "I smell them strongly. I think they are over yonder, too for to see. They have Terrans with them."

Reith wishing his crossbow and pulled the cocking lever from his belt. "Load!" he whispered.

Soon seven of the rescuers, bent over their cocked crossbows, stole ahead, with Shedan in the lead and Reith next behind him. As Yinkham worked his way through the underbrush, being too small to handle a foil-sized crossbow effectively, he cradled Alicia's little crossbow pistol, which Reith had found in her room at the inn.

Suddenly a crossbow snapped, and a bolt whistled past Reith's ear. He spun around, furious, and hissed, "Who's trying to kill me?"

"I—I'm awfully sorry," mumbled Bennett Ames, looking reproachfully at his discharged crossbow. "Didn't know these things were on such a hair trigger."

When Ames had recharged his weapon, the eight moved on, until Shedan again held up a hand. Reith whispered: "Spread out and get down on your bellies. Pick your targets, but don't shoot until I give the word." To Shedan he added: "You know which you're to shoot?"

"Aye; the fellow at the door when the fight begins."

Reith surmised that Schlegel would post one of his band inside, to guard the captives and to kill them if need be. Therefore he had asked the hunter, as the best arbalester, to hold his shot until a Preservationist appeared in the doorway of the hut, and then shoot to kill. Reith also gambled that, orders or no orders, the Krishnan in question would come to the door to see what the noise outside betokened.

As they wriggled forward on bent elbows, pushing their crossbows ahead of them, the Preservationists' camp came into full view. Centered on a small clearing, they saw a dilapidated hut with its roof half fallen in. About a dozen persons, some armed, squatted or stood around a small fire, eating. The huge Schlegel, their leader, stood facing the oncomers.

Ignoring a many-legged arthropod that had crawled inside his shirt, Reith crept forward a few meters more. When he had a clear view of the site through the crowding, many-colored vegetation, he eased his crossbow forward into position, sighted on Schlegel's midriff, and in a low but clear voice said: "Shoot!"

Six crossbows went off with loud, flat snaps, as if someone had knifed all the strings of a musical instrument with one slash. The quarrels thrummed and thumped home. Reith enjoyed a moment's ferocity as Schlegel staggered back; dismay replaced blood lust as, with a roar, the man jerked the bolt out of his midriff and threw it away. Then Shedan shot in his turn.

"Up and at 'em!" Reith shouted. Dropping his crossbow, he ran towards the clearing, drawing as he came. He faintly heard the tramplings and voices of his squad, half drowned by the shouts and clatter of the foe.

Although his attention was fixed on Schlegel, Reith was peripherally aware of one Krishnan kidnapper writhing on the ground, another lying in contorted quiet, and a third turning to flee. By the time Reith reached the clearing, Schlegel had his sword in hand. Reith bored in; but Schlegel beat off his lunge. Save for a timely parry, the cultist would have taken Reith's head off Midi a fast return cut.

As they lunged, hacked, and parried, Reith half-heard other clashes around him. Someone screamed as a blade thrust home. Now Schlegel's left hand, instead of being extended in a fencing position, was pressed against his belly. Blood seeped out between his fingers, but the wound did not slow the man's competent sword-play. The belt buckle and the mailshirt worn under Schlegel's clothes had limited the penetration of Reith's crossbow bolt; so that the wound, while serious, was not immediately disabling.

Sweating, Reith lunged again but was beaten back. Schlegel launched a running attack, whirling his blade in a tight circle to throw Reith's sword out of line. The more agile of the two, Reith dodged to one side as Schlegel pounded past. He made a solid thrust into Schlegel's sword arm; his blade pierced the biceps and came out the other side.

Schlegel wrenched his arm free, tearing out the sword and enlarging the wound. As he turned to glare defiance at Reith, the sword fell from his lax fingers. When Reith's companions converged on the pair, blades ready, all of Schlegel's Krishnans were either down or running away.

Reith placed his point at the base of Schlegel's neck, above the edge of the mail shirt. Schlegel sank to one knee, pressing his left hand to his abdominal wound. Apprehension furrowed his forehead.

"Mercy!" cried Schlegel. "I am helpless, wounded, disarmed. You cannot kill a man in my condition; it would dishonorable be!"

"Randal," ordered Reith, "see if the girls are in the cabin."

Fairweather grasped the ankle of the Krishnan lying dead in the doorway and dragged the body aside. Then he entered the hut and presently came out with Cassie and Alicia, both rubbing wrists raw from rope bindings.

Reith called, "Are you hurt, Lish?"

"Nothing serious, darling."

"And you, Cassie? Did this zeft mistreat either of you? Aside from the kidnapping, that is."

"No, except for tying us up," said Alicia.

"You're sure? He didn't do anything to you?"

"No, Fergus; though he promised us some interesting experiences if he didn't get the movie materials."

"What shall I do with him?"

"Kill him!" said Alicia, always the ruthless realist.

"You know what happened when you let Warren Foltz go."

"Mercy!" wailed Schlegel. "I have not injured your women or inflicted indignities on them! I acted only for the common welfare of Krishna—for the preservation of its collective soul—for the integrity of its culture."

"I'll be merciful," said Reith grimly. As Schlegel broke into a feeble smile, he added: "I mean, you won't be tortured, even though you laid hands on my wife."

With that, Reith thrust his sword into Schlegel's neck until the point struck the neck vertebrae. He twisted the blade and withdrew it. With a choking sound, Schlegel sank down into a sitting position. Like a massive tree, he slowly toppled over, to lie with blood spurting from both mouth and neck.

Satisfying himself that his foe was dead, Reith wiped his blade and sighed. Neither so ruthless nor so realistic as Alicia, he never found the taking of life something to do lightly. He looked around.

Besides Schlegel, five of his band lay dead. Valdez sat on the ground, holding a wounded arm and muttering a stream of Spanish obscenities. Then Reith spied Yinkham, sprawled with a sword through his body. "What happened here?"

Fairweather explained. "The little Krishnan, your new secretary, ran up to this guy, who was just about to let you have it from behind. With that little pistol thing, he shot the fellow in the ribs from about a meter's distance. The Krishnan, before he collapsed, whirled around and ran Yinkham through. So both ended up dead."

"Damn," muttered Reith. "The little guy might have made a first-class secretary, if he hadn't decided to play the hero. He was a better man than a lot of Terrans. Girls, will you bandage Ernesto before he bleeds to death?"

In Alicia's room at the inn, Alicia took off her shirt and examined her shapely torso in the mirror. "A couple of bruises," she said, "but nothing like the shellacking they gave me on the temple roof. I was an idiot to go walking with Cassie without you to watch out for me. And thanks a million!" She grasped Reith's shoulders and gave him a long, lush kiss.

"Thanks for what?" asked Reith. "For the rescue? But—"

"Not exactly. That kiss was for calling me your wife, even when I'm not."

"Oh. To quote the late Attila Fodor, we're so nearly married it doesn't matter." He paused.

"Fergus!" cried Alicia. "You look pale all of a sudden. Are you sure you're not wounded?"

Reith sat down heavily on the bed. "I'm okay. It's just that—well, I'm no berserker. When I have to kill or be killed, I kill. It doesn't bother me at the time; but afterwards a reaction hits me. My leg bones turn to an inferior brand of jelly."

Alicia sat down and put an arm around him. After a silence, Reith said: "You know, Lish, there's much to be said for preserving native Krishnan culture. It's too bad the movement got into the hands of a nut like Schlegel."

"He meant well in his way," said Alicia.

"Sure, like the Trasks. Hundred-percent villains are as rare as hundred-percent heroes. But you've seen how Terra has become homogenized—arts, customs, costumes, everything—and I see the same process starting here."

"But darling," said Alicia, "when two cultures meet, there's always mutual acculturation."

"Eh? What's that?"

"They borrow traits from each other. If one is more advanced, the other does most of the borrowing. When Europeans conquered the Terran tropics, the native peoples began to imitate the Europeans—as by wearing clothes—not for rational reasons but because the Europeans had all the power and prestige. When Terran culture meets Krishnan, the same thing is bound to happen. And if, as twenty-second-century Americans, we believe in individual freedoms, why shouldn't the Krishnans have the same right to copy Terran culture traits all they want?"

Reith yawned. "Too complex for my simple mind. Dearest Wart Hog, can we please go to bed now? I'm all in."