by Colin Kapp
‘It was the truth of that proposition I wished to test. If the fact holds true, then the rest of the story holds true.’
Tito Ren sighed and reached for his sword belt. He paused only to fasten the ornate buckle before he followed the director out into the street.
The emergence of the two outworlders into the brilliant sunshine at the edge of the square—the director purposefully striding toward Zinder, and Ren following—caused an immediate thrill of interest to run through the market place. There was a quieting in the pace of the bargaining, though each man pretended still to be about his business, The agent sensed rather than saw the evasive group of figures who moved to strategic positions in the crowd, prepared for trouble. Worst of all was the unspoken wariness of the merchants, traditionally neutral in political affairs. If Vestevaal forced the incident into an affray, then even the dour men of small commerce seemed likely to side with Zinder.
Ren normally had complete confidence in Vestevaal’s ability to contain a crisis. However, Ren was from habit more attuned to the local undercurrents in Anharitte than Vestevaal could be. Purely from lack of ‘feel’ of the situation the director might provoke an explosive incident. Under his tunic Ren could feel the comforting weight of his blaster. He would hesitate to use the weapon in such a populated place, but, if necessity demanded, he could drop a dozen men with a single charge.
‘You there! Girl—come here.’ Vestevaal was approaching Zinder, calling imperiously. She turned her head and waited for him, her face composed, as if the meeting were an event not unexpected.
The director stopped suddenly as he realized she intended that he must be the one to walk the intervening distance if he wished to speak with her. She plainly did not propose to come to him.
‘I said come,’ said Vestevaal, knowing the delicate dictates of slave etiquette.
She looked him up and down with shrewd appraisal, then turned back to the merchant at whose stall she was and continued her transaction. The director sensed that all eyes were upon him and wondered how he would resolve the offered slight. It was unthinkable for any slave other than Zinder to have disobeyed a public command from a man so obviously a prominent outworlder. Vestevaal realized that he had trapped himself into an open contest of wills. He could not afford to let the’ matter pass.
He strode angrily across the remaining distance and caught hold of her left wrist, on which the slave mark was indelibly written, At close quarters she was attractive rather than beautiful in the classic sense. Her dark hair framed a strong face, which displayed an unassailable character. But more impressive was the rich by-play of emotions continuously monitored in her eyes.
‘I thought so—the House of Magda.’ Vestevaal was emphasizing the aspect of bondage, trying to draw a reaction. ‘Your master will be hearing from me. You’re the one they call Zinder, aren’t you?’
‘But of course, Director Vestevaal. But then you knew that before you came across here. Indeed, I am the reason you came.’ Her voice was clear and melodious, modulated with a subtle artistry. Her speech was perfectly articulated Terran in which the attractive lilt of the native Ahhn accent had been carefully preserved. ‘But I’m glad you did come. Peering from behind a curtain is rather undignified for a man of your standing with the Free Trade Council.’
‘Damn!’ said Vestevaal, knowing that he was now the center of an attentive audience. ‘You take much on yourself, girl. Not only do you open wounds, but you also apply salt.’
‘Salt? Only to the wounds of enemies,’ she answered easily. ‘Among friends salt is for sharing at table. If I’ve offered salt, Director, it’s you who have chosen how to use it.’
In her deep eyes was no fear or displeasure, only an engaging challenge. Behind the eyes were limitless funds of resourcefulness. Though her lips were smiling slightly, they showed neither insolence nor arrogance. She was meeting him on an equal level and both of them knew it. What had started as a deliberate confrontation had ended in a rout for Vestevaal. His wry smile of admiration turned into a great gust of laughter and he reached this time for her right hand and kissed it.
‘As you so rightly said, Zinder, it was I who chose how to use the salt. But whereas a man can mostly chose his friends, circumstances choose his enemies for him. There are times when one could wish the reverse. Please present my compliments to the Imaiz—and tell him that if ever he wishes to dispose of your bond he will find myself an eager purchaser.’
‘I will convey your words to Dion-daizan, I’m sure he’ll be both amused and flattered.’
‘And also tell him that I mean to stop him by every means at my disposal.’
‘That isn’t news, Director Vestevaal. Had he not been convinced of it he would not have bothered sending me here today.’
‘He anticipated this meeting?’
‘The chance of this or something like it was highly probable. He felt it only fair you should know the character of the opposition.’
‘He could scarcely have made the point more strongly.’
‘What else would you expect of the wizard of Anharitte?’
She bowed respectfully and moved away like a colorful flower among the stalls, the barest hint of triumph on. her lips. The tension that had held the cluttered market in a long hiatus drained slowly away and the noisy chatter of bargaining returned. Ren, who had been silent to this moment, moved to the director’s elbow.
‘I told you I didn’t advise it,’ he said critically.
‘You were right, Tito,’ Magno Vestevaal told him. ‘I should have listened to you more carefully. Mark that round to the credit of the Imaiz. If that’s a sample of his tactics we’ll be needing more than moral support from the Free Trade Council.’
“Then you’re satisfied with my assessment of the situation?’
‘Send word to have the shuttle readied for blast-off as soon as I reach it. I’ll be calling an emergency session of the council and asking for their backing with all the facilities we need. With the evidence I shall give them I doubt there will even be a debate. In the meantime, you’re in charge here. You have my authority to draw whatever Company funds you need. Stop the Imaiz, neutralize his policy or just plain kill him—I don’t mind which. But if he turns many more slaves like Zinder loose in Anharitte, we’re surely going to have another democracy on our hands. And what will become of Free Trade then?’
THREE
To understand the function of the societies in Anharitte it was necessary to view them against the background of the uneasy truce local feudalism maintained, The burgeoning space technology barely thrust outside the city’s limits. Almost alone among the institutions of Anharitte, the societies had been forced to adapt to the twin pressures and now formed a precarious link at once joining and keeping separate the rival ways of life.
Historically the societies had been clans of skilled mercenary soldiers who offered their services to any who found it beneficial to use hired arms rather than maintain their own forces. In either attacking or defensive roles, the clans had played a great part in the early formation of the ‘kingdoms’ from which the great Houses of Roget had emerged after the adoption of central government.
With the coming of less turbulent times the societies had found new exercise for their warlike crafts. When the thriving communities had outgrown the protection offered by the great castles on the three hills, the merchants outside the citadels had become exposed to attacks by Tyrene pirates who came up the broad Aprillo river. Many merchants had then found it expedient to use the armed services of the societies to protect their homes and warehouses. From this had evolved the contract system whereby a merchant engaged a society for protection but paid for the service only as and when it was required. This function, too, sharpened the efficiency of the societies themselves, because the best protection contracts went to the clans with the proven ability to preserve the life and wealth of their patrons.
As piracy became a less profitable profession, the idea of contract protection remained. Always ada
ptable, the societies were swift to monitor the change and quick to evolve new services to offer. Slave control in the expanding estates was an obvious extension. The passing of two disastrous plagues brought about the introduction of society hospitals. Frequent fires in the huddled wooden buildings caused the initiation of society fire services. Thus the outworld concept of insurance found a more personal and practical analogue in Anharitte.
Yet the warrior function of the societies was not forgotten. A man with the price might still arrange for the skilled disposal of his rival or the waging of a feud with an enemy. While the taking of life in Anharitte was not necessarily a crime, disturbance of the peace of the city was an offense. The societies learned to conduct their affairs with great discretion under the grim and scowling eyes of a prefecture which neither approved nor disapproved of what they did—provided the quiet life of the city was maintained.
The coming of the spaceport had further enhanced the societies’ role. No outworlders were permitted to hold property titles on Roget—a necessary precaution for a culture intending to preserve its own identity in the face of commercial outworld interests—but there was nothing to stop outworlders entering into contracts with a society and leasing buildings held in the society’s name. The same applied to slave-bonds and to every other form of transaction that had to be registered with the prefecture. Thus the societies, inextricably part of the old culture, became also the bridgehead of the new.
As a Company agent more astute than most, Tito Ren had long since learned the value of an in-depth study both of the history and the cultural mores of the territories to which he was assigned. Thus he had been quick to recognize the multiple role of the societies and equally quick to adapt the system to his own requirements. His researches had shown the Society of Pointed Tails to be not only the most efficient of the available clans, but also the one still most proficient in the use of arms in situations where the rudimentary laws of Roget could not be bent sufficiently to gain the necessary advantage for an ambitious free trader.
Ren had wooed the members of Pointed Tails by concentrating his considerable leasings of property, services and local labor with them. He pursued his advantage by offering them well-paid investigation assignments probing those aspects of life in Anharitte he found of interest. Now he was ready to move into the next phase—that of actually using the Pointed Tails as an instrument with which to manipulate particular elements of Anharitte society itself. He was prepared to recognize, however, that a society as competent as the Pointed Tails would not be likely to accept his propositions without question. Nor was he wrong.
Catuul Gras, senior scribe of the Society of Pointed Tails, looked questioningly at Ren.
‘You’ve already spoken with your director, then?’
‘I have—and he’s in complete agreement. The Imaiz will have to be stopped. The director has already given me access to whatever Company funds I need in order to make a preliminary approach to you—and now he has gone to consult the Free Trade Council. If they concur, I’ll have unlimited funding from the Galactic Bank itself and whatever additional facilities I choose to call on.’
‘And you wish the Pointed Tails to prepare a scheme of harassment and feud against Dion-daizan?’
‘t need more than a feud. I need to crush Dion-daizan. Harassment may have its place—but if it doesn’t bring results prepared to consider anything short of full-scale warfare.’
. ‘And the Prefect Di Irons? Do you think he’s going to sit by happily while you wage war on the Imaiz?’
‘I intend to seek the support of all the lords of Anharitte, Di Irons among them. If we can gain their backing plus that of the Free Trade Council, the Imaiz won’t stand a chance.’
Catuul, his brilliant robes flowing about his muscled body, took a pensive turn around Ren’s booklined chamber. He was obviously not enthusiastic.
‘I think you oversimplify about the lords,’ he said. ‘Di Irons never support you in an overt act of war against the Imaiz, whatever his private sympathies. Di Guaard is so insane he’s till holding an inquisition to find pirates who became extinct two generations ago. Di Rode will listen to you, but he’s unlikely actively to support an outworlder against another House of Anharitte. Only the Lady T’Ampere appears as a possible—though I doubt you’d be prepared to pay her price for the alliance.’
—And the Society of Pointed Tails?’ asked Ren. ‘Will they support me?’
Catuul frowned. ‘I can’t anticipate the decision of my fellow scribes. I’ll call an immediate meeting of the lodge and recommend they take your assignment. But there will be much argument.’
‘What’s there to argue about?’
‘About the possibility of losing the fight. It’s easy enough for you to wave money and say you want to crush the Imaiz. But did you never think that Dion-daizan may prove powerful enough to crush the lot of us?’
‘That isn’t possible,’ said Ren. ‘Because whatever strengths he has, I can call on resources to match his ten times over. This is one fight you can’t possibly lose.’
‘Your thinking is typical of an outworlder’s,’ said Catuul. ‘You don’t appreciate Dion’s considerable influence with the bondslaves—or his command of magic. Believe me, you underestimate his potential, or you would not so lightly engage in plans for his destruction.’
‘Dion-daizan is a fraud. He’s a Terran adventurer—with no more occult powers than you or I.’
Catuul shrugged. ‘Call him by any name you like. We know him as a formidable and unforgiving enemy. He never allows an injury to pass unavenged.’
‘I can always approach another society if the Pointed Tails have cowards among their members,’ said Ren coldly.
‘Cowards?’ Catuul swung on him angrily. ‘There are none braver or more dedicated than the Pointed Tails. It isn’t they who might falter—but you.’
‘I?’ Ren was perplexed.
‘Of course. If the society accepts your assignment every man is committed to the death. But you have the option to rescind the contract at any time. If the going gets too rough you can retreat offworld to lick your wounds and total up your losses. But we can’t. We have to continue operating here in Anharitte—and the Imaiz makes no distinction between those who are paid to injure him and those who do the paying. Only the scrolls tell of the remains of societies who once tangled with the Imaiz and lost.’
‘Nevertheless,’ said Ren, ‘that isn’t going to happen. If ever I drew back, the Free Trade Council would replace me with another. They can’t afford to do otherwise. And their resources have no limit—they can acquire them a thousand times faster than we can exhaust them. I’m offering you the backing of a dozen merchant worlds and seven hundred space companies and combines—to fight one man and a handful of slaves. Tell that to the other scribes and see if they share your doubts.’
‘I’ll tell them,’ said Catuul gravely, gathering his robe across his arm. ‘And I think they’ll be convinced. But it will be a close decision. I’ll let you have our answer in the morning.’
When Catuul had departed Ren turned his attention to the radio link with the space terminal. From the spaceport the powerful FTL communications equipment reached out in real time to the relay chains across the vastness of commercial interstellar space. In response to his inquiry he learned that an incoming call from Free Trade Central was already logged a mere five hours away. Finally Vestevaal’s voice came through.
“Tito, can you hear me clearly?’
‘Yes, Director. Transmission is good. Did the council meeting go in your favor?’
‘It did indeed. They were even more perturbed than we—especially those who have big investments nearer the Rim. The outcome is that we’ve got all the support we need. The Galactic Bank will give you unrestricted credit. Any Free Trade ships calling at Anharitte will be obliged to offer assistance—and the merchant worlds of Combien and Rance are donating a light battle cruiser to be set down on Anharitte for the duration of the exercise. The battle cru
iser will have most of the facilities you might require in the way of laboratories, trained commandos, communications, armaments and the like. You’ve enough there to start a war if you should need to.’
‘It mustn’t come to that,’ said Ren. ‘If we upset the planetary government we’ll be thrown off Roget for sure. Our best chance is to try to woo the local lords to our side, then to fight an undercover campaign against the Imaiz. Then we can divide Magda’s share of the spaceport royalties among the remaining Houses and expect the dust to settle pretty fast.’
‘You’re the man on the spot, Tito, so it’s your advice that counts. I’ll be returning to Roget shortly, but purely as an observer and to maintain liaison with the Free Trade Council. I may advise on policy, but the strategy and conduct of the battle will be entirely your affair. I hope that arrangement is to your liking.’
‘I couldn’t have asked for better. Terran or no Terran, if we have modern weapons and the support of the other lords, the Imaiz hasn’t got a chance.’
‘I wish I completely shared your confidence,’ said Magno Vestevaal, signing off. ‘But Zinder didn’t have to make that confrontation in the market. For the moment I almost wondered if the Imaiz wasn’t spoiling for a fight.’
Catuul Gras came back the next morning with the Pointed Tails’ acceptance of the offer. The price. was high, but Ren brushed aside the financial considerations. ‘You managed to find agreement, then?’
Catuul grimaced. ‘Some of the scribes had reservations, but they’re all alarmed by what the Imaiz is doing. Certainly they respond to your argument that if we’re to maintain things in Anharitte as they now stand, some form of action is necessary to curtail Dion-daizan. The fact that you’re willing to finance and supply backing for the skirmish makes it easier for us to do what we should finally have been forced to do anyway. In some ways this is an alliance—and there are other societies who may contribute to our cause.’