The Hand of Zei

CHAPTER SIX

Three days later, in the early afternoon, Barnevelt and Zei came out of the forest of Rakh beside the Shaf-Malayer road. Both were gaunt, dirty, worn-looking, and shabby. Zei carried a spear, which Barnevelt had made by lashing the hilt of his dagger to a pole. After they had been treed by a yeki, Barnevelt had made the spear in case they met another one. But, having assembled the weapon, they had no occasion to use it.

Barnevelt sighed. "I suppose we ought to start hiking north, but let's sit here a while and hope to catch a ride."

He tossed his axe on the ground and sat down heavily with his back to a tree. Zei dropped down beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. He said, "Let's see the rest of those berries."

She handed over her seaman's cap, which she had been using as a bag. Barnevelt started fishing out berries, feeding them alternately to her and to himself.

He looked hard at one and threw it away, saying, "That's the kind that gave us a bellyache. Can't you just imagine the meals we'll have when we get to town?"

"Aye, verily! A fine roast unha, with tabids on the side, and a tunest in its mouth. The platter swimming in betune sauce."

"And a bunch of those yellow what-d'you-call-'ems for dessert, and a big mug of falat wine…" ,

"Not the falat of Mishdakh, which is thin stuff, but that of Hojur, especially that of the year of the yeki…"

"Don't talk to me about yekis! I've seen all I want of them. We'll also have a loaf of badr, to sop up what's left…"

She raised her head. "What a blade! Here you sit, with a most royal maiden all but lying in your arms, and all you think upon's your beastly stomach!"

"Just as well for you."

"How mean you?"

"There's no guardian of virtue like starvation. If I had my strength you wouldn't be a maiden long."

"Braggart! Your thoughts would still center upon aliment. Oh, I saw the repasts you consumed aboard the Shambor and knew your nation's gluttonous reputation were but a pallid phantom of the fact."

"It's a cold country," he said.

"But you're not cold now!"

"And at least we eat normal wholesome food, and not our husbands."

"The kashyo's no feast, dolt, but a solemn ceremony…"

"I've heard that before, and I still think it puts you on a level with the tailed men of Fossanderan."

"Insolent carper!" she cried, and slapped him—gently, to show it was in fun.

"And," he continued, "I don't see how your royal line perpetuates itself if every time the consort finds the queen looking at him he wonders if it's the love light in her eyes or whether she's picking out a nice chop. That sort of thing must be unmanning."

"Perchance our men are less readily unmanned than those of your chill abode. A Qiribu on the verge of death retains his gallantry, whereas if you put a Nayme on berries and shellfish for three days…**

"Four!"

"Four days, he's blind insensible to aught but food."

"Fool! You were imagining just as big a meal as I was."

"I was not! The repast of your fancy overtopped mine as the Zogha overshadows Mount Sabushi."

"How d'you expect to prove that?"

"A princess royal has no need to put matters to proof. Her word alone is adequate."

"Is that so? Then you'd better learn some new customs."

"Such as that Earthly usage called 'kissing,' wherein you've schooled me. Methinks I need more practice at this sport…"

After a while, Barnevelt said, "I'm afraid I'm not so near starvation as I thought."

"So? Seek not to violate the ancient customs of Qirib, or you shall learn the rough-and-tumble methods taught by our lanistae in the maiden warriors' palaestra… Are you perchance carrying a gvam stone in your pocket?"

Barnevelt shifted his position. "No, I'm relying entirely on my native charm. Anyway, I doubt that such a stone really gives a man power over women, as the janru does in reverse. Sounds like wishful thnking."

"Yet you abet this superstition by hunting the sea monster for its stones."

"Who am I to upset age-old beliefs? I had enough trouble back in Nyamadze, as a result of trying to enlighten people about some plain and obvious facts. But speaking of your women warriors, I hope this experience has convinced you that manning an army with women—if you can man something with a woman—isn't practical."

"And what's the cause of that?" she asked.

"Because the men are bigger. If this were that planet where the females are ten times the size of the males, it would be different."

" 'Twas most unfair of Varzai this disparity to establish."

"Sure, if you must blame the gods."

"If not the gods, then whom?"

"That depends on what you believe about such matters."

"Do you not take the gods seriously?"

"No. I think things just happen."

"No wonder the Kangandites sought for heresy to slay you!"

"No wonder at all. But still, it's a wonder Qirib hasn't been swallowed up by some powerful neighbor, with that set-up."

"Our queens have averted war by a diplomacy of marvelous subtlety, using our mineral wealth to play one foe against another."

"Fine, but eventually some tough guy says, Tight or give up!' and that's all the choice you have."

"Do you present me with these grim alternatives, O scoffing nihilist, fear not but that I'll fight."

"Oh, no. I'd use that marvelous subtlety you were talking about to gain my ends. As for instance…"

"Malapert!" she said when she could speak again. "Could you not remain at Ghulinde to play this gladsome game with me forever?"

"Unh? That depends."

"On what? Another, I command…**

"If your mother abdicates, your consort mightn't like it."

"He'd have nought to say. My word were law."

"Still, it might be considered pretty familiar," he said.

"Well then, could you not teach the wight? Or better yet, become my first consort yourself?"

"Good gods, no! You don't think I want to end up on your sacrificial stove, do you?"

She looked surprised and a little hurt. " 'Tis an honor many would envy you. Art afraid?"

"Damn right! I like you fine, but not that much."

"Oh! Plain blunt fellow, Nyamen."

"Anyway I'm not eligible."

"That could be arranged," she said.

"And I thought your consorts were picked by lot."

"That, too, were no obstacle insurmountable. All's not what it seems in the drawing of the sort."

"So I've heard. But I still don't intend to spend a year as a lady's pup-eshun and then be killed. Can you imagine your hero Qarar doing such a thing?"

"N-nay, but…"

"It reminds me too much of a bug in my country called a mantis, of which the female eats the male during coiture."

Her eyes filled with tears. "You said you liked me, and we're really of one kind, you and I, despite our seeming differences exterior."

"So I do." He took time off to demonstrate the new game. "Oh, hell, I'm madly in love with you. But…"

"I love you too."

"As a man or as a steak? Unhl" She had punched him sharply in the short ribs.

"As a man, fool," she said. "At least a putative one, for the proof definitive has yet to be submitted."

"Well, that's something. And don't make cracks about my self-restraint, or I'm likely…"

"Hold, perchance there's a way out. Know you the agitation of the Party of Reform, to convert the execution to mere symbolism? Well, having seen a greater portion of the world and having heard the irreverent talk of yourself and other skeptics, I'm not so sure as once I was that the Divine Mother in fact demands this sacrifice."

"You mean you want to adopt the Reformers' program when you come to power?"

"Why not? Then you'd have no dire doom to dread."

"No," said Barnevelt firmly. "Look, sweetheart. In the first place your mother'll keep on running things, as you said yourself, even after she's abdicated, and I don't think she'd stand for such monkeying with custom."

"But…"

He placed a hand firmly over her mouth. "In the second, when I love a girl I want her permanently and not on a one-year lease. The idea of watching a parade of successors doesn't—ouch! You little devil, are you sneaking a snack in advance to see how I taste?"

"Nay, you mass of string and bone! I did but nip you gently to remind you that I, too, must breathe to live and cannot with that great hand clamped upon my countenance. As for your theories of love and life, that's a view extraordinary for a wandering adventurer. Most such, I've heard, prefer a short hot love and a speedy departure."

"I'm different. In the third place I intend to damn well be the boss and not one of your Qiribo househusbands. Which lets out your whole matriarchal system."

"If the women be housewives in the barbarian nations, why in equity should not the men be househusbands with us?"

"No reason at all, darling. If they put up with it that's their business. But I will not. Nor will I stand for being doped with that janru drug."

"I'd swear by the six breasts of Varzai never to use it on you."

"How could I be sure of that? No, my dear, I'm afraid…"

Barnevelt sighed unhappily, for he now saw what showing his genuine fondness for Zei was getting him into. The real reason for his adamant refusal Was the fact that they were of two different species. Yet, with Tangaloa in the clink, Shtain unrescued, and the Cosmic contract unfulfilled, he did not yet dare admit his Earthly origin, knowing the parochial prejudices of many Krishnans. Still, her nearness filled him with desire.

"What then?" she asked with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "To what extent must one of my proud lineage abase herself before you?"

"You'll have to let me think," he stalled.

"You slippery equivocator!" She jumped up, gave him a sharp kick in the thigh, and started off. "The bigger fool am I, so to cozen me have let you! Here, sir, part our ways for good. I'll to Ghulinde alone."

She started walking briskly northward along the road.

Barnevelt watched her straight receding back with mixed feelings. On one hand he should be glad she'd broken off this dangerous and unprofitable game. On the other he was horrified to hear his softer self call, "Come back, sweetheart! Let's not fight. How will you manage without money?"

She kept on. In a few seconds she would be out of sight around the next bend.

At the last minute, he put his hands over his mouth and imitated the grunt of a hunting yeki. He did not really expect it to work and was all the more surprised when Zei jumped into the air with a cry of alarm, dashed back to him, and flung herself into his arms.

"There, there," he said. "You needn't be afraid with me around. Let's sit down again and take it easy."

"Concerning our future relationship, my love…" she began.

Barnevelt laid a finger on her lips, saying, "I said I should have to think about it, and I meant that."

"I insist…"

"Darling, you've got to learn in dealing with men from outside Qirib that they won't stand for your insisting. I have decided we won't talk about that subject for a while."

"Oh," she said in a small voice.

"Besides, when we're practically starved to death is not time to make vital decisions."

"Food again!" she cried, her irrepressible good humor fully recovered. "Said I not all Nyamen were gluttons? And now back to our game…"

Starvation or no starvation, Barnevelt thought, it was just as well for the ancient customs of Qirib that a few minutes later a shaihan cart, headed north, creaked up the road. Instantly he and Zei were on their feet thumbing. The driver spat and halted his animal.

"Clamber aboard, sir and madam," he said. " 'Tis long since the Mejrou Quarardena has honored my poor slow vehicle with a commission, but your uniform is credential enough for me."