Alan Burt Akers [Dray Prescot 06] Manhounds of Antares (pdf)

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Chapter Twelve
How Dorval Aymlo the merchant of Ordsmot came home
Even as Dorval Aymlo shouted in a high and shocked scream of utter disbelief and despair, I jumped
forward, the sword low. This was no business of mine. But the old Lamnia had been so happy he had
been so overjoyed and he was a kindly old soul and now, this!
So I jumped forward, like a headstrong fool, and Nath of Thothangir leaped at my side, his red hair
black in the torchlight.
Aymlo screeched and stumbled and fell and that for a surety saved his life, for the spear thrust passed
above his prostrate body. In a twinkling I had thrust in my turn, and recovered from the lunge, and taken
the next spear and so, twisting, hacked down the furry face of the Lamnia attacking me.
Nath fought with a series of clever but overly vigorous cut and thrusts. I smashed into the other Lamnias,
for I knew that they would in truth kill us all if they were not stopped, and that would not please the Star
Lords. Among the Lamnias were Rapas and humans and these fought, on the whole, with more skill and
viciousness than the Lamniarese, which was only natural. Very quickly I found three Rapas at my side
wielding fallen spears, and these were released slaves, my fellows. We fought and for a space the
compound resounded to the shrill of battling men, the slide and scrape of steel, the shrieks of the
wounded, and the bubbling groans of the dying.
The very savagery of the ex-slaves rush, the sudden reversal of their own weapons, the blood spouting
from gaping wounds, unnerved our opponents. One of our Brokelsh was down, with a spear in his guts,
but that was the extent of our casualties. Our opponents fled. Dorval Aymlo stood up, holding his hands
in the air in horror. The Maiden with the Many Smiles floated serenely above the rooftops with their
notched outlines and upflung gable ends, and her pink radiance streamed out upon that scene of
destruction.
By Opaz the All-Merciful! exclaimed Aymlo, scarcely able to speak. What devil s work is this?
A Rapa laughed nastily, wiping his spear on the clothing of a dead Rapa he had slain. It is very simple,
old fool. This bastard nephew of yours stole your house and your goods and he would have slain you to
keep them!
Well, said Dorval Aymlo, in a voice of pain, the deed has brought him nothing but sorrow. For, see,
here lies the body of Rafee Aymlo, all dead and bloody.
And, indeed there lay the nephew, with the laypom-colored fur beneath his chin dabbled with blood and
bisected by a great swiping gash. I knew that was not my handiwork. The redheaded youth who said he
was Nath of Thothangir was more than a little of a hacker with a sword.
We all went into the great house, on the alert, and found a frenzied attempt on the part of female
Lamnias to pack up the stolen wealth of Dorval Aymlo and to depart. We stopped them, Aymlo wanted
nothing of revenge. We discovered his wife and six children, still alive, penned in a filthy basement, and
we released them to hysterical scenes of sobbing and laughter, to which we slaves left them and so found
ourselves food and drink. The business as merchant carried on by Dorval Aymlo was extensive and he
was a relatively wealthy halfling. His nephew had trapped him and sold him into slavery, and he had
wound up on Faol, sport for the great Jikai. Now he was home, and he could not do enough for us.
The next day we had to consider what to do. From Ordsmot many of the released slaves could find their
way home to various parts of Havilfar, and Aymlo was only too happy to give them, freely and without
interest or thought of return, sufficient gold to get them comfortably home, broad gold deldys, the Havilfar
coin corresponding to the Vallian talen.
Aymlo s next-door neighbor, and others, crowded in to congratulate him, for he was a kindly man and
well thought of. Among those whom the news brought hurrying to Aymlo s house was a man. He was, in
the Kregan way, tall and well built, with a handsome open face with a fine pair of black moustaches, and
it would be difficult to say how old he was between, say twenty and a hundred-and-twenty as is the
Kregan way.
His name was Tom Dorand ti Ordsmot, and he took an instant shine to Tulema. This Dorand did a
considerable business with Aymlo, and all the time, between congratulating the old Lamnia on his
remarkable escape and bargaining over new deals, his bold eyes kept straying toward Tulema. She
knew, at once. She did all the things that, I suppose, most women have done since the very first Delia of
Kregen captivated the very first Drak of Kregen, many thousands of years ago, as the old legends have
it, when Kregen itself first emerged from the sea-cloud to receive the light of Zim and Genodras and be
blessed by the dance of the seven moons.
She was talking to me, most animatedly, and she kept tossing her hair back and laughing, and arching
her back the better to reach for a glass of wine, or a miscil, or stretch for the platter of palines on the
sturm-wood table. We had all been through the baths of nine, and were sweet and clean, and, truly,
Tulema looked very desirable, with the lamplight shining on her hair and sparkling in her eyes. I often
think that the light from a samphron-oil lamp is particularly kind to a woman.
I felt a great relief, and took myself off, and let Dame Nature, who operates as successfully on Kregen
as she does on this Earth, get to work.
Come to that, I took the trouble which was no real trouble and was, in any case, a duty of friendship
to find out what I could of this Tom Dorand. He was a solid upstanding citizen of Ordsmot, respected
in all the eight precincts. He carried on a lighter business, ferrying goods up and down the orange river
from Ordsmot, the entrep�t hereabouts. Between them, he and Aymlo had a good thing going with
regular contracts.
With all the halflings rescued from the manhunters taken care of, with Tulema almost certainly off my
hands, there remained only Nath.
I care not where I go, Dray Prescot. Do not worry your head about me, although I give you thanks for
my life.
As to that, I said, so be it.
Later Tulema spoke to me. She was very serious. Her dark eyes regarded me solemnly.
You may think it strange, Dray. But I have not been a dancing girl in a dopa pen for nothing. I know
men. I know your heart is somewhere I can never reach.
It may have been flowery Kregans love a fine phrase but it was true.
I hope you will be happy, Tulema. Tom is a fine man.
She flushed at that. Oh, so you noticed!
I didn t chuckle, but my lips ricked up a trifle.
I did not wish to hurt you, she went on. But I am hard enough in this world to know a chance when [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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