The Tritonian Ring and Other Pasudian Tales (20 page)

             
Then he thought of Porfia, and resolved not to commit himself irrevocably to anything until he had investigated his standing in that direction further.

             
He jerked out of his reverie with the realization that the king was speaking to him: "And whither are you bound after you leave here, my lord?"

             
"Tritonia.
That lies south of here, does it not?"

             
"Southeast, rather.
What is your purpose?"

             
If he had not been heated by the sweet wine of the banquet Vakar might have been more cautious, but as it was he told openly about his quest for the Ring of the Tritons.

             
The king and the other lords nodded, the former saying: "I have heard of that ring. It will take uncommon force, guile, or persuasiveness to get it away from King Xime-non."

             
"What," said
Vakar,
"is its precise nature? How does it differ from any other ring?"

             
A Phaiaxian lord said: "It is said to be a powerful specific against magic of all kinds, and to have been cut by a coppersmith of Tartaros from a fallen star in the possession of the lord of Belem."

             
"
Which," added Nausithion, "means it might as well be on the moon, for nobody leaves Belem alive.
Tritonia is bad enough
...
"

             
"What is hazardous about Tritonia?" asked Vakar.

             
"The situation there is peculiar. There are two dominant peoples in Tritonia, the Amazons who live on the island of Kherronex in Lake Tritonis, and the Tritons who live on the island of Men
ê
. The subject tribes live around the lake on the mainland. Now the Tritons and the Amazons are the men and women of what was once a single nation. In my father's time they had a great war with the Atlanteans to the southwest of here, which so depleted their supply of fighting-men that their king armed their women and defeated the Atlanteans. Then however the women, being the more numerous, conspired against the men, and rose against them in one night, stripping them of their arms and reducing them to subjugation.

             
"This condition endured for several years, with the women ruling and the men doing all the work, not only in field and meadow but in house and hearth as well. At last the men revolted and fled to the island of
Menê,
where they armed themselves and stood off the women. So now there is war between them, and when a stranger arrives in Tritonia both sides try to capture him—or her—to take to one island or the other. If the visitor is of the sex of that island, they enroll him in their army; if not, they amuse themselves carnally with the newcomer until the latter's powers are exhausted."

             
"A visit to Tritonia sounds strenuous," said Vakar. "If the men catch you, you are in for a lifetime of fighting, whereas if the women catch you—but what other nations lie near Phaiaxia?"

             
Nausithion began counting them off on his fingers: "To the east, along the shores of the
Thrinaxian Sea,
l
ive the
Laistrugonian savages who, alas, are not in the least charmed by our sweet songs. In fact their raids have so galled us that we have had to place ourselves under the protection of the king of Tartessia. South of the Laistrugonians lies Tritonia, the land of lakes,
where men ride striped horses. East of Tritonia one comes to the Pelasgian Sea, which gives our
merchants
access to Kheru and Thamuzeira and other far-eastern lands.

             
"Southeast of Tritonia dwell many curious peoples: the Atarantians who curse the sun daily, instead of praying to it as do most folk, and who refuse to tell their names for fear a stranger should acquire magical power over them; the Garamantians who have no institution of marriage, but couple promiscuously at any time or place like beasts; and many others. Some paint themselves red all over; some dress their hair in outlandish fashion. Among some, at a wedding-feast the bride entertains all the male guests in a manner that among most nations is reserved for the groom alone.

             
"South of Tritonia lies the dreaded land of
Belem,
and beyond that forbidding mountain-range the Desert of Gwedulia. There dwell only wild beasts and wilder men: the camel-riding Gwedulians who live by herding and robbery."

             
Vakar nodded understandingly, for of all kinds of men the nomadic herdsman, hardy, truculent, and predatory, was the most feared in his world. Nausithion continued:

             
"West of Belem the Desert of Gwedulia sends north an arm called the Tamenruft, separating Belem from Gamphasantia. The Gamphasantians are said to be a peaceful folk with a high standard of ethics—so high in fact that it is unsafe to visit them, for normal mortals find their standards too lofty to adhere to for any length of time. North of them and west of us rises another mountain-range called Atlantis. West of Gamphasantia
lies
the free city of
Kernê
, whose merchants are so sharp that ours cannot compete with them, and south of
Kernê
is Tartaros with its black craftsmen."

             
Vakar asked: "What is south of the Desert of Gwedulia?"

             
"None knows; perhaps the traveller comes to the edge of tin- world-disk of which the philosophers tell, and finds the s
t
air leading down to the seven hells. But that is all we know; now
tell
us of Poseidonis."

             
Vakar had started an account of the glories of Lorsk (which with patriotic pride he unconsciously exaggerated) when a man came in and said: "My
lord King, there are
strangers outside who wish to speak to you."

             
Nausithion swallowed a mass of roast pork to make
himself
understood. "What sort of strangers?"

             
"Very odd strangers, sir.
They drove up in a chariot. One is a giant who looks like a Laistrugonian but uglier; one is a pigmy with enormous ears
...
"

             
Vakar said: "Excuse me, King, but I feel unwell. May I withdraw for a moment?"

             
"Certainly
...
Ho, that is the way to the kitchen!"

             
Vakar plunged through the door and shouted: "Fual!"

             
"Yes sir?" The Aremorian looked up from where he was eating.

             
"Qasigan has caught up with us. Get our gear and meet me in front, but don't go through the banquet-hall."

             
"You mean to leave?" wailed Fual. "Oh, sir, these are the first people since Sederado who have shown us the respect due our rank—"

             
"Don't be a bigger fool than you can help. Where are the beasts?"

             
A few minutes later Vakar led the four horses around the house to the front. Fual came after him. At the corner Vakar paused to peer around in time to see the shaggy back of Nji the ape-man
disappear
into the king's mansion.

             
"Hold the horses," commanded Vakar.

             
He picked up a stone and walked towards the chariot hitched to the post in front of the king's residence. Several servants of the Phaiaxian lords clustered there, throwing knucklebones. Vakar strode around them, bent over the near wheel of the chariot, and with one blow of the stone knocked out the pin that held the wheel to the axle.

             
"Here, you help me!" he said, and such was his tone of assurance that two of the nearer gamblers got up and came over. "Grasp the edge of the chariot and lift."

             
The chariot was a heavy northern model with oldfashioned leather-tired solid wheels and a frame of elm and ash. The frame rose as the servants lifted. Vakar pulled off the wheel and rolled it ahead of him like a hoop to the corner of the house where Fual waited.

             
"Help me tie this on this horse," he said.

             
The servants stared after Vakar but showed no inclination to interfere. A laugh ran through the group as they
evidently
took the act for a practical joke and went back to their game.

             
"Now," said Vakar, "to Tritonia, and fast!"

             
Off they we
nt. Not this time would he settl
e down in fair Phaiaxia, forgetting his duty to his land and his
dynasty.

-

             
"I can't tell whether it's a man or a woman," muttered Vakar, lying on his belly under a bush. "It looks more like a reptile with a man's shape."

             
He peered around the hill at the figure that sat the oddest horse that Vakar had ever seen: a creature entirely covered with black and white stripes. Behind him, up the draw, Fual held their own horses in a clump of acacias. They had ridden across Tritonia, where the people wore fringed buckskin kilts and goatskin cloaks with the hair dyed vermilion, to the shores of Lake Tritonis.

             
Vakar wriggled back out of sight of the immobile rider and told Fual: "The thing seems to be covered all over with scales, with a pair of enormous feathers sticking out of the top of its head. I'm sure King Nausithion didn't describe any race of reptile-men in his account of the peoples of Tritonia."

             
"He might have omitted to mention them," said Fua
l
with a shudder. "I remember hearing the Tritons worshipped a snake-god named Drax. And who knows ...
?
"

             
Vakar said: "The only way to settle the question is t
o
capture the thing. Luckily the shrubbery is dense. I'll circle around and come upon the creature from the far side while you creep out—"

             
"Me? No, my lord! The idea turns my bones to water—'

             
Vakar caught Fual's shirt in both fists and thrust ar angry face into that of the Aremorian.

             
"You," he said, "shall do as you're told. When you've given me time to approach from the other side you shall make some small noise to distract the thing's attention, and I'll do the rest. Be ready to rush in and help subdue it."

             
He was more than ordinarily exasperated by Fual, who still bore the marks of the beating Vakar had given him when the latter learned that his servant had stolen one of Nausithion's silver plates in Huperea.

             
A quarter-hour later Vakar crouched close by the rider. He had laid aside his scabbard so as not to be encumbered in the kind of attack that he had in mind. Through a tiny gap in the leaves he saw that the scaly skin was a cleverly made armor of reptile hide, covering the entire rider except the face. The rider carried a long lance and a small round shield of hide.

             
Though Vakar waited and waited, no distracting sound came from the direction of the draw. The striped horse snorted and stamped and Vakar feared that it smelled him.

             
At last he could wait no longer. He gathered his feet under him and sprang towards the sentry. The striped animal snorted again, rolling an eye towards Vakar, and shied away. Its rider turned too and began to swing the lance down to level.