Cale nodded. He was beginning to relax a bit, though he was surprised at the man's knowledge. "Yes," he replied, "A soldier."
The Sergeant nodded. "What do you know of two men, beaten and left naked outside this barn?"
Cale shrugged. "They tried to rob us, or maybe to kill us; I didn't bother to ask them."
"They say you attacked them without warning and stole their clothes."
Cale grinned. "Their rags are piled over there," he said, indicating the corner of the barn. "We did keep their weapons, in case they had friends." A nod sent one of the armed men after the clothing.
"And why steal their clothes? Why not simply slit their throats?"
Cale sobered and shook his head. "We are trader and healer," he replied. "Neither of us possesses whatever it is that permits a man to kill a defeated opponent." He shrugged. "We stripped them to humiliate them, and left them outside the door as a warning to any others that may be out there."
"Sometimes," the Sergeant responded, his eyes far away, "it is pity and compassion. When a man has a death wound and is in agony." His eyes returned to the present, and the Sergeant's features relaxed into a smile. "We are not unfamiliar with those two, uh, individuals. They are notorious thieves and are suspected in several murders." He shrugged. "We have been unable to catch them in circumstances that would permit the King to hang them. But I like your solution."
He turned to a guardsman. "Go tell them we could not locate their clothing, only barn rags. Then release them. Don't be gentle about it."
The guardsman grinned and nodded before hurrying off.
The Sergeant turned back to the spacers. "The one-legged man was my Sergeant until he lost his leg. It is good to see him back, and sober. And I've not seen him so excited in years." He paused, then relaxed into an easy smile. "Were I you, I do not think I would go to the market today. I suspect you will be summoned to the palace." He flicked a glance at their cart. "I will send you a reliable man who will guard your cart for a few ounces. I regret I cannot assign a guardsman to such a task, or every other trader and merchant would be demanding the same."
The Sergeant's man arrived just after dawn, a burly young man in a stained tunic. They settled on a price, and the man settled himself against the cart's wheel as Cale and Dee left in search of breakfast.
Dee refused to eat at the inn, so they wandered toward the market. A bakery provided them with a sack of rolls still hot from the oven, and they munched contentedly as they wandered the dozens of stalls.
The market was already busy. Freshly killed meat, dried fish, fruit, and vegetables were all available. Toward the other end of the market, everything from furs to furniture were displayed. Dee had already warned Cale that she wanted to buy any rainbow cat pelt they saw; the spectacular furs amazed and delighted her, and she looked forward to showing them off on Santiago or Ilocan.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, they saw only one of the colorful pelts. Dee made Cale promise they would gather some trade items from their cart and try to buy the pelt.
The attack on them had stimulated Cale's interest in weapons. He traded their attackers' cheap knives, along with a few ounces, for two well-forged blades whose design somewhat resembled the fighting knives with which he had trained in the past. He also bought a staff of amazingly hard wood that rather resembled a walking cane. Its knobbed end had a pointed spur that, while serving as a handle, would become a deadly spike if the staff were swung like a club.
"What about distance weapons?" Dee asked.
Cale shrugged. "I haven't seen anything except bows, long spears, and slings," he said. "The only one that doesn't require special skill is the spear, and these are much too long to throw. I can't figure out how they work. I was rather hoping to buy one of those 'firearm' things to take back to Santiago, but I haven't seen one."
Dee frowned. "I haven't, either. They were common enough at Valhalla. They must be controlling the manufacture and distribution somehow."
Cale nodded. "I think that's rather typical in weapons development. The people who invent something want to control it. But it's a losing battle; sooner or later, some of them will get out of Valhalla's control, and some king will have his blacksmiths work on copying them.
"In the case of firearms," Tess put in through their implants, "the big secret isn't the design of the weapon, it's the gunpowder that the firearm shoots. I suspect Valhalla will be successful in controlling the formula until someone who knows the secret is bribed enough to share it. Of course, we know the secret . . ."
Cale shook his head, momentarily forgetting that Tess could not see him. "I don't want to start an arms race on Jumbo," he replied. "The more peacefully we can establish our colony, the better!"
They spent a pleasant morning browsing the market stalls, though Dee found herself several times confronting her 'civilized' squeamishness when confronted by the heads of butchered animals and fish for sale.
Just as they were about to return to the food stalls to buy some lunch, Cale spotted something he thought might be a firearm at the back of a small stall.
"Aye," the stall's owner told him sourly. "'Tis from Valhalla. I got cheated on a trade. Th' thing needs a magic powder to work, and the thief had only enough to show me what it could do. The powder he gave me did not work when I tried it later." He shook his head. "'Tis well made, but is useless without its magic. I'll sell it cheap, and I'll even throw in the powder."
So Cale got his firearm, a one-hand design with a bore the size of his thumb. The outside of the weapon was well cared for, its brass barrel polished bright, its hardwood stock carved and polished. But the bore was dark. Mindful that they might be summoned to the palace at any time, they decided to return to the barn and stow their purchases on the cart.
They returned to the market, and were browsing a fruit stall when two armed Guardsmen approached, swords bared. Cale recognized one of them from the barn this morning, and evidently, the recognition was mutual. The Guardsmen walked straight up to the spacers and announced, "You're to come with us. You are summoned to the Palace by the King."
Cale was momentarily irritated at missing his lunch, but quickly realized that this was what they had been preparing for since leaving Valhalla. He chuckled at his own irritation, which earned him wide-eyed stares from the crowd in the vicinity. Apparently, a royal summons wasn't always a welcome thing.
They accompanied the guardsmen, the noon crowd parting widely at sight of their escorts' bared blades. A few, not fast enough, got swatted with the flat of a blade, but for the most part, their progress was rapid and unhindered.
The high, thick wall around the palace was made of something Cale thought was crushed rock mixed with some sort of binder. He wished he had a chance to examine it carefully, but their escort hurried them along. The palace itself was not impressive. To Cale, it appeared a warren of dark, ill-lit hallways joining a maze of small, thick-walled rooms.
The Throne room to which they were led, though, was large, and was fairly well-lit by dozens of torches and high windows. The windows were arranged in such a way as to provide a beam of bright light on the back of the throne. The dramatic backlighting emphasized the power of the king, and shadowed his face. King Karel might not know the term 'stagecraft', Cale decided, but he certainly knew how to use it.
Their escorts prodded the spacers forward, and prompted them to bow deeply. From the corner of his eye, Cale saw several attendants help the frail figure of the king into the room and up on the throne's raised dais.
"You may rise." The thin, quavery voice matched the emaciated figure on the throne.
King Karel had been described to them as "old," but "old" is relative. King Karel appeared to be only in his fifties, but his hair and beard were white, and his weakness was obvious.
The King spoke to Dee first. "You are the healer from Ham's Town?"
Dee bowed. "I have some small skill, Your Majesty, though I am not mage, sage or surgeon."
King Karel smiled slightly. "We ha
ve seen dozens of mages, sages, and surgeons," he replied. "None can help Us. You use no magic?"
Dee shook her head. "No, your Majesty. Just wisdom taught at my mother's knee."
King Karel nodded and turned to Cale. "And you are the trader that is her guardian?"
Cale nodded. "I am, your Majesty, for she is my lady wife."
The king nodded again. "You come highly recommended by someone whose judgment We trust," he said. "We would have you examine Us, to see if you can help Us." He waved a hand, and a guardsman brought forward Dee's medical box, which they had left with the cart. Luckily, Dee had taken to wearing the necklace with its concealed key.
"Sire," Dee said, "I fear it will be necessary for me to examine your Majesty in private, as some of the examination and perhaps the treatment will be quite . . . intimate."
The King smiled weakly. "In the last few years We have spent many an hour being poked and prodded. We are quite accustomed to the procedure."
"But, your Majesty," a portly, older man standing near the throne protested, "We know nothing of these . . . these people. Where is this woman from? With whom did she study? What sages or surgeons will vouchsafe her skill? You risk your life, sire!"
King Karel turned a mild gaze on the man. "And what have We to show for your skills and efforts over the past two years, Surgeon?" He shook his head. "We are dying, you have said so yourself. The worst she can do is hasten that death, and relieve Our pain."
He turned back to Dee. "You will accompany Us to our private apartment to complete the examination. Trader, as her guardian, you may accompany Us." He struggled to rise, and attendants hurried in from both sides to help, barely beating Dee.
King Karel waved her off. "Please, no. These Our faithful servants are familiar and skilled at their routine. Instead, walk with Us, and tell Us of your adventure last night." They began moving slowly down dimly lit corridors, armed guardsman ahead and behind, an attendant on each side helping support the king. Dee walked with the king, while Cale trailed behind them.
Dee looked surprised. "Your . . . Your Majesty knows about that?"
The king laughed, a thin, reedy sound. "We know everything that happens in King's Town," he said. "There are legions of people in the streets who cannot wait to rush to the palace with any bit of gossip in hopes it will earn them a few copper ounces." He shrugged. "In this case, We have a report from the Sergeant of the guard. Tell me, dear, how did someone as young and lovely as you defeat a well-known street tough?"
Dee smiled and described her actions, to the king's delight. "Ha! We hear you totally flattened his nose, and he will be so swollen and sore he will have little interest in women for weeks!" The king reached over and patted her arm. "Well done, dear," he said. "Very well done indeed!"
They reached the king's apartment, a large, gloomy room with small windows whose heavy draperies were pulled aside to admit sunlight. A large desk occupied one end of the room. The other featured rich furniture scattered about in front of a huge fireplace, now cold.
The armed guardsmen stopped at the door, taking up positions on each side of the door. The attendants helped the king to a comfortable upholstered chair, and then bowed themselves out.
Dee started to speak, but the king waved her to silence. "We would have the examination completed in Our bedchamber. If you will assist Us . . ."
Cale and Dee leapt to their feet and helped the king out of his chair. King Karel was tall, but emaciated now, and only a light burden on the spacers. He directed them to a large, solid door opposite the fireplace, and they helped him inside.
This small room was simply a continuation of the royal apartment. Only one small window pierced the thick wall. A large canopy bed occupied most of the small room, with a scattering of chairs partially filling the rest. Though several odorous lamps burned in sconces along the walls, the room was dark and smelled strongly of body odor.
"We know this room is much less comfortable," the King said, "but We are certain there are listening posts in the walls of the apartment, and We do not wish to be overheard." He paused. "Are you really from the stars?"
Cale jumped, and Dee's eyes widened. "Oh, come," the king continued. "We have been getting reports of lights and noises in the sky for months. Since We do not believe in signs and portents, there is but one conclusion: the star men have returned.
"We trade regularly with Valhalla, and we know the source of their mighty 'magics'. They do have strong drink, but they use it mostly as fuel for their machines. When a strange trader and a marvelous healer show up unexpectedly in a small hunting village, and then a market in a small town, it attracts attention. When a man whose loyalty and intelligence are well known to Us reports that he thinks he has met star people, We trust his judgment.
"Besides," he added, waving a hand toward Dee's medical kit. "We recognize that box and that necklace. It was made for Our grandmother."
Cale smiled ruefully. "I guess we're not as good at disguise as we thought, your Majesty."
Dee nodded. "I am sorry, your Majesty. I will be happy to return your grandmother's box and necklace."
King Karel waved a hand. "Keep it. You traded for it honestly. Besides, the old girl was the terror of Our childhood." He shrugged, but desperation appeared in his eyes. "Can you really help Us . . . me? I hate this shell of a thing I have become, but when 'We' die, civil war appears inevitable, and many more will join Us in death."
Dee shook her head. "I do not know, your Majesty. But since you know about us, there is no reason I cannot use all the tools available to me."
She reached into the box and removed the diagnostic comp that was part of the emergency equipment. "This unit is not as complete as the one on our ship, or even the lifeboat we've been using. But we are in communication with our ship, and we will see what we can do.
"It will be necessary for me to stick this unit to your chest, your Majesty, while it analyzes your medical condition. You may feel a pinprick. It will probably take several minutes to complete its analysis."
King Karel looked at the small box humming away on his chest interestedly. "A thinking machine? The old stories tell of such."
Dee nodded. "We call it a 'comp', your Majesty, or a 'computer.' I am hoping that this one can tell me exactly how to treat your illness."
King Karel smiled. "And you really have a starship hidden in the Giant Forest?"
Cale shook his head. "No, sire. As you noted, a starship is very bright and very loud. Our ship dropped us off above the Giant Forest while in flight, and we came the rest of the way in a small, silent vehicle called a 'flitter.' At this moment, our ship is hovering about 10 miles straight above us."
King Karel nodded. "You might be interested to learn that a week ago the Valhalla ambassador passed Us a message from King Rajo. It warned Us that criminals were taking advantage of the unusual display of lights and sounds to pretend to be from the stars. Actually, We were told, they had stolen very dangerous knowledge from Valhalla, and if they showed up in Our domain, We should have them killed immediately. We assume you visited Valhalla first."
Cale nodded. "We landed our ship there. They know we're not impostors. But we are a threat to Valhalla's control of science or 'magic', if you prefer. That control has kept Valhalla powerful for seventy years."
King Karel's expression became angry. "Exactly. They hoard their Old Time knowledge, and dribble it out to us, a little at a time, for high prices, while Jumbo's people suffer unnecessarily!"
"Please calm down, sire," Dee asked. "You are affecting the comp's readings."
King Karel grimaced, but forced himself to calmness. "So," he asked conversationally, "What did you ask or offer that frightened Rajo and that tame 'wizard' of his?"
Cale shook his head. "We asked for his help, and offered help of our own. It will take some explaining, and I would prefer to wait to discuss it until Dee has finished."
The comp made a beeping sound, and King Karel felt it loosen its grip on his chest. Dee picked it up. "
What does it tell you?" King Karel asked.
Dee shrugged, "It gives me readings and instructions, but I would like to confirm them with the large comp on our ship. Tess," she continued, "I'm going to give you the readings from the diagnostic comp. Please verify its recommendations, and add any you think advisable." She moved away from the others, reading a long list of numbers aloud.
King Karel chuckled. "It is refreshing to be with people who are not afraid to tell Us their names."
"Kings must use theirs," Cale pointed out.
King Karel nodded. "Yes, and you should see the nonsense 'magic' We have to go through to 'protect' ourselves. Ridiculous, of course, but the people need to believe their king is safe."
Dee came back. "Sire, I will need to give you several injections, including one large one in a buttock. The others will probably best be administered in your arms or legs.
She was preparing the hypospray as she spoke. She administered three injections in the king's legs and left arm before instructing him to roll over and bare a buttock. He obeyed without a comment.
"Now," Dee said. "The comps and I agree that you will recover. A large part of your problem is simply your living conditions and those of your people.
"First, you should knock out that wall, there, and put in a large window, one that opens. Fresh air is not your enemy.
"Second, water is not your enemy, either. Your enemies are mostly filth and the parasites and other pests that come with it. If you would live a long life, clean this place up! Wash things regularly. Including yourselves.
"The most important thing you can do to help your people live longer is to destroy this myth that bathing is dangerous. That silly belief causes more sickness and death than just about anything else. I recommend that you work toward convincing your people that they should bathe at least weekly all over. It won't be easy; I've seen the fear. I'm told that on Old Earth, a queen named Elizabeth started the trend by bathing naked twice a year. After many years, it became once a month, and then once a week." She shrugged. "On nearly every civilized planet, people bathe at least once a day."
The Privateer 2: AN HONEST LIVING Page 10