The Honorable Barbarian (14 page)

Thinking of the discomfort of his woollen trousers in this steamy, sticky climate, he took them off and donned a sarong and the sash over them. Thus clad, he hoped to be less conspicuous. Not wishing to draw attention to the package hung round his neck, he kept his shirt on instead of baring his thorax like most Salimorese.

Then he went to Klung's house and persuaded the balimpawang to start work on the auction of his surplus properties. Klung conducted the auction with dispatch that afternoon, while Kerin moved his baggage to the
Tukara Mora.

The following morning saw Kerin seated on a cushion in Klung's oratory, surrounded by the dull-gleaming brass of cryptic magical devices. Standing at a table laden with apparatus, Klung strove to make the Eighth Plane entity into a proper duplicate of Kerin. The entity, a manlike shape, shimmered and wavered in the pentacle. Klung said:

"Rise, Master Kerin!" Then to the undulating shape in formal Salimorese: "Behold thy model! Assume its aspect!"

The shape slowly solidified and took on Kerin's appearance from the turban, which Kerin wore to look more like a local, down to the sea boots.

"Turn!" commanded Klung.

When the shape did so, it resembled Kerin only in front. The back was a smooth, brownish surface, into which the clothing merged. It was as if someone had made a mannequin of Kerin designed to stand with its back to a wall, so that only the front could be seen.

"Idiot!" shouted Klung. "Thou shalt replicate Master Kerin all the way round. Turn, Kerin!"

Kerin thought this a little unfair to the entity, since it had seen only his front; but it was not for him to interfere. He obeyed, and gradually the entity's impersonation became more exact. When Klung was satisfied with the being's appearance, he asked Kerin:

"What think ye to say when ye confront Pwana—or rather, when your simulacrum accosts the rascal?''

Kerin thought. "Something like: 'Doctor Pwana, where is Princess Nogiri? What have you done with her? I demand to see her forthwith!' Not that I expect him to yield to my wishes."

"Good enough." Then to the entity: "Repeat after Master Kerin: 'Doctor Pwana, where is . . .' Nay, thou must needs speak with his foul foreign accent."

"That is unfair!" protested the entity in a thin, reedy voice. "The last time I served you, ye insisted I speak your tongue like a Salimorese lord. Now ye ask that I distort it as doth this round-eyed foreigner. There be too many accents to learn them all!"

"Just do as thou art told!" shouted Klung. He fiddled with his magical apparatus, causing the entity to yelp. "And lower thy pitch!" added Klung. "Master Kerin speaketh in the middle register for males, compared to which thy speech is as the twitter of birds."

As the day wore on, the entity's imitation of Kerin became more and more convincing. Klung insisted on going over every detail of clothing, every word, and every gesture, until the entity had it just right.

"Pwana may be the biggest villain unhung," he explained, "but none hath accused him of stupidity. He will be on watch for any betraying incongruity. Dost plan your emprise for tonight?"

"I'm unsure. I must warn the folk on the
Tukara Mora,
so that when we arrive in haste there shall be no delay in boarding."

"Why all this preparation for boarding a ship?"

"Because most captains draw in their gangplanks at night, to foil the harbor thieves. Armed guards walk the deck and, if a stranger rush aboard unannounced at night, are wont to strike instanter and question anon." Kerin stood frowning. "I know! I'll ask my familiar to scout the Temple of Bautong, to see if any preparations for the great and grisly sacrifice go forward. Whilst she's about it, I shall see to quarters for Nogiri." He went out and called: "Belinka!"

"Here, Master Kerin. Hast finished your business within?"

"Not quite." Kerin gave Belinka her orders.

"Ugh!" she said. "I hate to enter that temple; it hath an evil aura, and the counterspell that envelops it makes the passage through it seem like flight through syrup. And you know what I think of your brown barbarian."

"Just go like a good sprite!"

On the
Tukara Mora
, Kerin hunted up Purser Zummo, explaining: "I shall bring a woman with me after all. What accommodations can you give her?''The purser looked dubious. "This person sold our last double cabin today. Some of our passengers have a spare pallet, but I know not if your woman would care to sleep with a strange man."

"I'm sure she would like it not."

The officer fiddled with his thin fringe of whisker. "Unless perchance one of those who have a double cabin but occupy only one bunk would trade places with you. . . ."

"Master Zummo," said Kerin, "this woman is a princess. Have you no single cabins?"

"Oh, that is different. Aye, there are two, for persons of rank. Number Two is free for the voyage."

"How much?"

Zummo named a figure substantially higher than the total cost of a double cabin. Kerin winced at the bite it would take from his remaining funds. After hesitation he said:

"Pray, could I hold that single cabin with a deposit whilst I ask the lady for her preferences?"

"Aye, that you can do."

"May I see this splendid single cabin?"

The single was larger than any of the doubles and, moreover, had a substantial bed instead of a mere pallet on the floor. The bed was secured to the floor by wooden pins. The cabin was otherwise more impressive, also, with black and crimson dragons writhing along the walls. Kerin sighed and paid his deposit, saying:

"We may arrive in haste, pursued by ill-wishers. Could I count on your leaving your gangplank in place for most of the night, so that we can board without delay?"

"When is this furtive arrival to be?" asked Zummo.

"Tomorrow night, methinks."

" 'Twill cost you extra, since we shall have to work one of the marines overtime, to guard the plank."

When Kerin returned from the
Tukara Mora
, he found the balimpawang seated at a little table bearing victuals. "Aha, Master Kerin! Sit ye down; Wejo shall fetch your repasture."

In the course of the meal, Klung said: "A rumor doth agitate the navigators of a secret compact betwixt the Emperor of Kuromon and the King of Kings of Mulvan. It is said that an envoy will travel from court to court, bearing some token—perchance a missive, perchance a gem, amulet, talisman, or other object of worth and power. For this, the Kuromonians will give the messenger something to bear back to Trimandilam. Kennest aught of this?"

"Why, there was a young Mulvani—" began Kerin. He bit off his sentence, remembering his imprudent outburst the first night on the
Dragonet.

"Yea, ye were about to say?" probed Klung, looking keenly at Kerin.

"Nought much. There was a young Mulvani on my first ship, who boarded at Janareth; but he left us at Akkander. So I doubt he had aught to do with any secret treaty."

Klung: "Ah, well, perchance there be nought to the tale. The navigators wet their sarongs with anxiety, lest the Emperor hath sold the secret of their navigating device to the Mulvanians."

Then Klung dropped the subject. Kerin was glad that, at the moment, Klung's hantu was not scrutinizing him for veracity.

Kerin was finishing his meal when he heard Belinka's squeak: "Master Kerin! Master Kerin! Come out, pray!"

Outside, Kerin asked: "What found you?"

"N-nought; all is dark and quiet in the temple. Your giglot remains in her tower room."

Inside, Kerin reported to Klung what Belinka had said. "So, I take it she's safe for the night?"

"Think ye the sprite told the truth?" asked Klung.

Kerin frowned, pulling at his new beard. "Now that you mention it, there was something odd in her manner. She sounded excited, like a mortal out of breath; but why should finding nought excite her? Couldst visit the temple in your astral form, as you did before?"

"No need; I shall dispatch my hantu. The task were well within his modest ability. Oh, Sendu!"

"Aye, my lord?" said the voice of someone hovering invisibly above the remains of their dinner.

Klung gave his command; the sprite replied: "I hear and obey!"In a quarter-hour the sprite was back, saying: "There is a hubbub in the temple, my lords. Pwana and his folk are robing themselves in brilliant hues, whilst others move magical furnishings about in the crypt below the altar."

"As I suspected," said Klung, "your familiar lied for jealousy. If ye go thither on the morrow, ye will find the princess already slain."

"Then we must chance it tonight!"

"We shall see," said Klung. "Sendu! Was Princess Nogiri still in her chamber?''

"Aye, my lord."

"How is her room furnished?"

"As best I can recall, a bed, a chest of drawers, two chairs, and a wash stand."

"Doth her door open inward or outward?"

The sprite hesitated. "I examined the hinges not, my lord; but methinks it open inward."

"Then return thither and tell the princess, if she value her life, to pile all the furniture against the door." Klung turned to Kerin. "Take the coil of rope. Art sure ye remember how to activate it?"

Kerin ran over the spell, moving his lips and gesturing. "Is that correct?"

"It will do. Shog along!"

VII

The Temple of Bautong

The silver sickle of the lunar crescent hung in the western sky, above a horizon whereon the blue-green gloam of sunset was fading, when Kerin, Klung, and Kerin's double approached the Temple of Bautong.

Kerin wore his everyday shirt and breeches, with his Salimorese turban and his scabbard, in Salimorese style, thrust through the back of the fancy sash from the loot. This arrangement proved less comfortable than suspending the sword from his baldric. But he thought that, first, it made him less conspicuous and, second, that it was less likely to swing about and bang things as he climbed.

The temenos or sacred enclosure filled a lot in Kwatna over a bowshot across. Around the borders ran a ten-foot wall of stone with broken crockery set in mortar along the top.The gate in the wall had been locked, but Kerin brought out his bag of picklocks and soon had the portal open. The temple, softly gleaming in the light of the quartermoon, rose amidst the grounds. Unlike most fanes of Salimor, the temenos was rather bare of vegetation. There were flower beds and a few trees, standing well away from the temple; but nothing like the jungle of greenery crowding most temple grounds.

Klung motioned to crouch behind the scanty screen of a spray of flowers. Kerin whispered: "Why so bare?"

"Pwana fears lest some foe miche up under cover of plantings, as we do now. He lays out his grounds so there be nought for an ill-wisher to hide behind."

"Then how shall we approach unseen?"

"I shall command your simulacrum. Whilst he holds the cullions at the door in play, hasten beneath the damsel's window. . . . Quiet! There goeth the sentry."

Dim in the moonlight, a figure paced into view around a temple corner. Although Kerin could not make out its features, he could see that it wore a Salimorese jacket and skirt and bore a heavy kris, like the one that on his arrival in Kwatna had almost deprived Kerin of his head, upon its shoulder.

As the figure plodded on its circuit until it showed its back to the watchers, the balimpawang whispered to the phantom: "Carry out thine orders!"

The pseudo-Kerin rose and marched determinedly towards the temple. When, small with distance, it reached the door, Kerin heard its voice raised, though he could not discern the words. The sentry, sword in hand, bustled back around the corner. The door opened; figures appeared. Voices rose in dispute.

"Now!" breathed Klung. "Go yonder, crouching, until ye be out of sight of the front door; then cut in to the wall beneath your sweetling's window. Run!"

"Where will you be?"

"Here, unless compelled to flee. I know a little spell, from a Twelfth Plane demon, to make people overlook me. I should be useless where a clean pair of heels must be shown. Go, whilst the entity hold the priests' attention!"

Crouching, Kerin scuttled along the path inside the wall, past flower beds whose blossoms would have shown a blaze of color by day but which now displayed only shades of gray. When the corner of the temple cut off the view of the entrance, he rose and trotted towards the building, the coiled rope on his shoulder swaying and bumping against his boots.

As he neared the structure, Kerin thanked his Novarian gods he had not undertaken to climb the masonry, which provided hardly any handholds. Around the ground floor, interrupted at intervals by windows, ran a frieze of dancing girls holding arms in angular poses; but the relief was too low to afford a grip. The second story was largely occupied by shuttered windows. Above it, the window of the tower room showed yellow candlelight around the edges of the shutters.

Kerin dropped his rope on a flower bed, grinning at the thought of how his mother would carry on if someone so abused her flowers. He straightened out the coil, making sure there were no tangles. Sounds of dispute still wafted from the further side of the temple, mingled with the whine of mosquitoes. Kerin raced through the spell, muttering and making passes.

For an instant nothing happened. Kerin wondered if he had missaid a syllable or scanted a gesture. Then the upper end of the coil arose, like a monstrous serpent rearing to strike. The end went up and up.

When all but the final turn of the coil had risen, the cable halted. Kerin took deep breaths to store up energy, sprang up, seized the rope, and locked his legs about it. Foot by foot, he rose past the ground-floor frieze; his lace came close to the oversized stone breasts of a dancing girl on the sculpture. He paused to slap a mosquito on his cheek and resumed his climb. The clamor from the entrance came but faintly.

Kerin rose past the shuttered second-story windows. Golden gleams from within escaped around the shutters' edges; as Kerin's position shifted, the rope beneath him swayed.

As he reached the tower-room level, he realized that the tower was smaller in plan than the lower stories. Hence, at this level, he found the window a good eight feet away.

Kerin thought. By swaying from side to side, he set up a
rhythmic oscillation in the rope, as if it were the trunk of a sapling. Wider and wider he swung, but he could not bring himself within reach of the window.

He pulled out his sword and resumed his swinging. When a totter brought him close, he rapped on the shutters with the sword. He did this again on the following swing.

The shutters opened, shedding candlelight. Salimorese windows had no glass panes; only wooden shutters. A shadow occluded the light as Nogiri appeared, saying:

"Who—what—Master Kerin! What do you?"

"Keep your voice down!" snapped Kerin, edgy with tension. "I'm getting you out."

"Wherefore? Have the priests an evil intention?"

"Human sacrifice to some evil god or other, with you as the offering. As I swing towards you, catch my blade and pull me in—nay, first get a cloth to seize the blade, lest it cut you."

Nogiri disappeared; Kerin glimpsed a pile of furniture against the door before she returned with a towel. When a swing brought his blade within reach, she caught it and pulled, until Kerin could grip the edge of a shutter.

"If I could hold the rope up against your window, couldst climb down it?" he asked.

"I know not. I climbed trees a-plenty as a girl, but this . . ."

"To hold the rope in place—is there aught in your chamber to serve as a cord?" Kerin silently berated himself for not thinking to bring such a cord with him. She said:

"With your sword or dagger, I could cut ropes from beneath the bed. Oh, oh, something is up!"

The noise from the front portal waxed in volume, and then came a trampling and a knock on Nogiri's door. "Princess!" cried a voice. "Open! Admit us!"

"Delay them!" said Kerin.

Nogiri called back: "Wait an instant, sirs. I must make myself decent."

"Never mind that!" said the voice. "Open forthwith!" The door boomed to blows of increasing force.

"No time to cut ropes now," said Kerin.

"Lower yourself as far as you can whilst holding the shutter," said Nogiri. "I shall seize the rope above you. . . . Oh, plague! I can never climb down in this skirt."

The battering increased; the door began to yield. Nogiri whipped off her sarong, wadded it into a ball, and threw it out past Kerin, who was trying to sheathe his sword with one hand. His point repeatedly missed the mouth of the scabbard, which jutted awkwardly out behind him.

"Throw your sword!" she said.

Kerin tossed away his sword and lowered himself as far as he could and still hold the shutter. Naked, Nogiri climbed to the window sill and swung out on the rope.

"Ouch!" said Kerin as her bare toe poked him in the eye.

As he released his grip on the shutter, the rope swayed dizzily outward. He lowered himself hand over hand, while above him Nogiri descended more slowly.

When Kerin's feet were a man-height from the ground, he let go and came down in a crouch, as he had in farmer Eomer's barn. He picked up his sword and sheathed it as Nogiri reached the ground and snatched up her skirt. Above, the door of Nogiri's room crashed open. Shouts and tramplings seemed to come from all directions. When Nogiri started to wrap herself in her skirt, Kerin said:

"Later! Run!"

Grasping her hand, he dragged her towards the gate. He saw no sign of Klung; but as the principal portal came into view, Kerin sighted a group of priests and temple guardsmen running through the flower beds after the simulacrum. Keeping just ahead of the mob, the doublegoer shouted taunts.

Pwana stood in the temple doorway, screaming: "Leave off! Pursue not that phantom! Come back!" Sighting Kerin and Nogiri, he pointed and shrieked: "There they go! Behold your quarry!"

The fugitives ran through the gate, which Kerin slammed behind them. Nogiri panted: "Whither away?"

"To the Kuromonian ship. What's the quickest way?"

"I can lose them in the alleys. Come on!"

Trailing her sarong, Nogiri ran ahead of Kerin. She led him along a street sloping down to the waterfront as the pursuers burst out of the gate behind them. Instead of continuing straight on, Nogiri took Kerin into a crooked side street, then zigzagged through a maze of alleys. The crescent moon had set, so that Kerin stumbled through the darkness. Only Nogiri's guidance saved him from tripping and falling or barging into walls.

Although few roamed abroad at night in Kwatna, the Salimorese they passed regarded them with amazement. When sounds of pursuit died out, Nogiri halted, panting:

"Pray, let me—catch—my breath."

"I could use a breath, too," gasped Kerin. "Whither lie the Kuromonian ships? You've lost me."

She pointed. "Thither, methinks. First let me . . ."

She started to wrap the sarong again when Belinka's tiny voice came from above: "Master Kerin! Flee instanter! They have picked up your trail with the help of a spirit!"

Sounds of pursuit rose above the general level of nocturnal urban noises. "Come on!" said Kerin.

They raced off. After several turns, they came out on the waterfront a few ship-lengths from the
Tukara Mora
's
quay. They ran towards the ship. Before they reached it, a man in the uniform of Pwana's temple guards emerged from a smaller street and approached them, waving a kris and shouting:

"Halt! Ye are my prisoners!"

"Stand aside!" said Kerin, drawing his sword.

"Foreign scum!" said the guard, advancing and winding up for a slash.

Kerin drew his feet together and extended his sword to the fullest. The simple stop-thrust, which Jorian had drilled into him, caused the onrushing guard to impale himself on Kerin's point, which entered his chest while his sword hand was still above his shoulder and his blade extended out behind him. The guardsman checked his rush, staring cross-eyed down at the blade as if he could not believe his eyes.

Kerin jerked out his blade, grabbed Nogiri's hand, and ran on to the
Tukara Mora.
To his dismay, the gangplank was not out, as the Kuromonians had promised. Instead, the ship sat in her dock with her nearer gunwale six feet from the quay. A downward glance showed dark water lapping gently; also that the ship was held away from the quay by poles lashed fore and aft.

"Canst jump it?" Kerin asked."Aye, methinks. Let go!"

She ran back a few paces, sprinted, and leaped from the edge of the quay. A pale shape in the darkness, she soared over the gap, came down on the rail, and sprawled on the deck. A deck guard, one of the
Tukara Mora
's
marines, shouted and pointed.

The temple guard had folded up on the cobblestones, but more pursuers poured out of a side street. Other Kwatnans issued from houses to see the cause of the disturbance.

Kerin threw his sword like a javelin, so that the point came down on the deck and the blade stood upright, swaying. He backed and ran to the ship. Like Nogiri, he took off at the edge of the masonry. But he failed by a finger's breadth to clear the rail. His boot slipped on the gunwale; he grabbed at the rail, missed, and fell fifteen feet into slimy harbor water.

Sputtering and coughing, he struggled to the surface. Weighed down by dagger, scabbard, and money belt, he found it all he could do to keep his nose out of water. Overhead a furious dispute broke out between the pursuers and the crew of the
Tukara Mora
, who had come boiling out of their quarters.

Kerin spat water and called: "Ahoy the ship! Throw a rope!"

"There he is!" yelled a pursuer from the temple. "Who has a bow?"

Another man lay down on the cobblestones at the edge of the quay and struck at Kerin with his kris but could not quite reach him.

"Throw your sword!" said a voice.

"What, lose my good sword? Be not absurd!"

"Who has something to throw?" shouted a voice.

The yammer rose. Something struck the water near Kerin with a splash; drops sprayed over him.

"Missed!" shouted another. "Pry up one more, yarely!"

They were throwing cobblestones. Thinking the further side of the ship were safer, Kerin struggled towards the ship's nearer end. More cobbles splashed. One struck his head a glancing blow, cushioned by his turban. He dizzily doubled his efforts and presently rounded the bow. When he could get his mouth above water, he shouted:

"Where is a rope?"

At last a rope splashed into the water nearby. Kerin seized it and was pulled up to the deck. He found a dozen Kuromonian sailors, directed by Second Mate Togaru, hauling on the rope. Beside the officer stood Nogiri, now wearing her sarong. Along the port rail stood a row of Kuromonian marines bearing pole arms of a Far Eastern pattern, with long, curved blades at the end of their shafts. Novarians called such a weapon a fauchard. The blades were straight enough for thrusting but broad and curved enough to slash with. These men faced shoreward and traded shouts and threats with the priests and guards from the Temple of Bautong, clustered on the quay.

"Master Kerin, is it not?" said Second Mate Togaru.

Dripping and coughing water, Kerin replied: "Aye. Methought you'd leave the gangplank out for us?"

"It was tomorrow night you said you might board in haste."

Kerin clapped a hand to his forehead. "So it was! I had no chance to tell you of the change of plan."