The Swords of Zinjaban

X - Jacob White

Half a moon after the escape from Vizman, Reith's gig rolled along the road westward from Mishé. Alicia sat beside him, and Timásh followed, riding an aya with two others on the lead.

They trotted through the rolling countryside of western Mikardand, where a lessening rainfall caused the forest cover to thin out to occasional copses and gallery forests along the stream beds. Elsewhere, the stony ground was only sparsely covered by the Krishnan analogues of grasses, herbs, and scrub. The garish colors of the more easterly vegetation faded out to pastels. Farms tended to cluster in areas where water was readily available; deep wells for irrigation were beyond Krishnan technology. In the wide, unfenced uplands between the farms, occasional herds of Krishnan herbivores, some four-legged and others six-legged, looked up as the gig clattered by. If alarmed, they bounded away.

The relationship between Reith and Alicia, which had been on a warming trend before the kidnapping, had cooled down to polite impersonality. Ever since Reith and Alicia had first met, interaction between them had always been lively, whether in the form of lovemaking, quarreling, gossiping, or abstract discussion. On the journey back to Mishé from Qantesr, however, they had spoken but little, and then usually for merely mundane purposes.

Alicia seemed to have withdrawn into herself. Reith supposed that she was trying to sort out conflicting emotions, and that if he tried to pry her out of her shell he would only reopen old wounds and make her even unhappier than, he suspected, she was. So he treated her with wary respect, watching for signs that she would welcome a resumption of their old comradeship.

Now, approaching Zinjaban, they began little by little to warm towards each other. Reith said: "Stavrakos made a terrible fuss about my going off to find you. He actually expected me to stay with the crew until the movie was shot and then, if I liked, go searching. He talked of refusing to pay me, because I was breaking my contract."

"Sounds like the hog," said Alicia. "How'd you get around him?"

"Believe it or not, the rest of the crew—even Fodor and Ordway—took my side. Ordway would have gladly come along on the rescue if I'd let him; but he'd have been a liability. Anyway, the gang told Kostis that, if he tried to stop me from saving you, they'd pull a strike. So Kostis gave in."

A smile lit up her somber face. "Nice to know they think me worth saving. But I'm surprised Attila stood by you. He's always resented my position."

"He muttered about barbarian honor; and Cyril of course has been sweet on you all along. What's this mysterious magic you have, which works a spell on everyone?"

"Ha!" she said. "I don't try to fascinate anybody. All I want is to do my research, write my books, and leave the social sciences in better shape because of me. Hey, isn't that Zinjaban on that rise ahead of us?"

On the hither side of a row of distant mountains, two towers like oil-well rigs reared unlovely heads. As the gig rolled nearer, rows of tents came into view. The towers, it could now be seen, were built of wooden beams and braces supporting a network of stairs and ladders, which led to a series of platforms.

As the ayas toiled up the long slope, the landscape opened out. The village of Zinjaban lay off to the right of the tent city. On the left, in a fallow field, squadrons of cavalry practiced maneuvers, wheeling, charging, and rallying, while the low sun flashed ruby sparkles from their mail. Beyond the twin towers the ground dropped away towards the Khoruz, still out of sight below the curve of the ridge. Farther still, beyond the vale, the travelers saw the foothills and peaks of the Qe'bas.

The gig drew up at the edge of the tent city. Reith swung down and was looking for someone in authority, when he turned at a wild yell. "Hey, Fergus! You did it! By God's whiskers, you did it!"

Anthony Fallon hurried up, burbling: "Alicia! Thank Bákh you made it! It must be quite a story. When—how—"

"Go easy, Tony," said Reith. "She's had a rough time. Might have been rougher yet if Minyev hadn't quarreled with Vizman and murdered him."

"What!"

"Yep; struck a knife in his back. Alicia got away in the confusion, and I came along just in time to help."

"What happened to Minyev?"

"I suspect something lingering and humorous, with either boiling oil or melted lead. We didn't hang around to find out. Now tell me what you're doing here! By the time we got to Mishé, the crew had finished their shooting there."

"I came out with Gashigi. I thought, with such a mixed crowd of Terrans and Krishnans, the World Fed needed someone to keep an eye on things."

"Gashigi's here, too?"

"Yes; she wants to make sure the Republic isn't put to unnecessary expense, nor its people abused. See that big contraption over yonder, with all the gilding? That's her carriage."

"Where's Strachan? It's his job to find us quarters."

"He's over the river with the shooting crew, translating. I can tell you where you're going; he and I worked it out You'll bunk with Colonel Bobir of the Gozashtando Regiment."

"And Alicia?"

"We'll put her in with Mary Hopkins, the wardrobe mistress. She's that severe-looking old prune you've met."

"Who's got the rooms at Manshu's?" Fallon smiled wryly. "Rank has its privileges. Stavrakos and Gashigi have Manshu's two rooms."

"All to themselves?"

"Well, it's understood that Ordway visits the Treasurer more or less nighdy; they seem to have a hot thing going. The joke on location is, if you feel the earth shake, it's not an earthquake; it's just Cyril and Gashigi having fun."

"And Stavrakos?"

"Far as I know, Kostis sleeps alone. Some say he's one of us girls; but I think it's only his moneybags he's in love with."

"What's that big tent over there?"

"That's the portable studio, for interiors. Come along, you two; I'll show you your tents and find your man a place among the Krishnans."

Reith met Mary Hopkins, saw Alicia's luggage stowed, and went on with Fallon to Bobir's tent.

An hour later, Reith was settled in. He had greeted Bobir, commander of the Gozashtanduma, whom he already knew, and was introduced to the colonel named Padras, who commanded the Mikardando regiment.

Reith was strolling about to orient himself when a bugle call drew his attention westward. A column of ayas, bearing both Terran and Mikardando riders, was fording the river. The water, now shadowed by the hills beyond, curled up around the shanks of the horned, six-legged mounts.

Reith picked out Fodor by his great stature and bald head. As the group plodded up the hither slope, Fodor spurred his aya to a gallop and swept past the tents, yelling "Hi-yah! Hi-yah!" Leaning as he banked a turn, the Hungarian, a magnificent rider, set his animal at the vehicle park and pounded straight for Reith's gig. When the beast seemed about to crash into the little vehicle, Fodor pulled his aya into a soaring leap and cleared the trap by a few centimeters. Although relieved to see his carriage unscathed, Reith was a little disappointed that Fodor's neck seemed equally intact.

The director galloped back, jerked his mount to a halt, and leaped down roaring welcomes. He grabbed Reith and boisterously kissed him on both cheeks.

"We got some first-class takes today!" he bellowed. "You must see the rushes! Now, what the hell have you been doing? The damn picture is three-quarters shot, castle scenes and all. All we got left to do is the long chase to Castle Kandakh, and then the big battle with your Gozashtanders. We do the long chase tomorrow, d.v. The battle will take several days, with rehearsals and all. Did you get Alicia? Is she all right? Where—"

"Here I am, Attila," said Alicia, who emerged from her tent to be promptly grabbed and kissed in her turn. "Thanks to Fergus, I'm still alive and in one piece."

"What happened?" roared Fodor. "Could we get a movie script out of the story?"

"I'm saving it for my next book of memoirs," answered Alicia.

As word of Alicia's arrival spread, the rest of the crew rushed up to congratulate her, wringing her hands, kissing her, and plying her with questions. She dampened down their exuberance and called: "Fergus!"

When she got him aside, she said: "A little bijar tells me you could use something to restore your energy. I have a bottle hidden in Mary's tent."

"You wonder woman! Lead on."

Reith and Alicia were curled up in the tent, sipping falat and exchanging banter in a relaxed, low-keyed mode, when Alicia murmured: "By the way, thanks for the story you told Tony; I mean about Vizman's death."

Reith nodded. "That's the official version from now on. There's nobody to contradict it."

"How are you fixed for quarters?"

"The colonel's a good old soldier but a bit of a bore. If—oh, hello, Mary!"

Mary Hopkins came in. The wardrobe mistress declined a drink but listened eagerly to Reith's version of the rescue. Then she exclaimed: "There's the dinner gong!"

As they took their places in the chow fine before the cook tent, Mary Hopkins said: "It's nice enough eating picnic style in good weather but miserable when it rains. Then we have to cover our plates and run back to our tents."

Dinner at the long tables over, Alicia took Reith to Manshu's tiny inn for a showing of the day's rushes. The common room was jammed, with people sitting on the floor and trying to see past one another's heads. The makeup artists, Reith thought, had done an excellent job on the Terran actors; it would take an expert to tell them from authentic Krishnans.

In one scene, Princess Ayala, played by the buxom Cassie Norris, was about to be burned at the stake. At the last minute Prince Karam, the actor Randal Fair-weather sporting a short-sleeved, coarsely-knit sweater dipped in metallic paint to simulate chain mail without the real thing's weight, galloped up on an aya. Severing the princess's bonds with a slash of his sword, he caught her up and galloped off.

Cassie's complaining voice, high and sharp, rose above the chatter in the crowded room. "I thought I'd gotten close enough to being fried; but Attila wanted more realism. So on the third take, he delayed the rescue till the damned fire burned my leg. The fuckin' thing still hurts, in spite of Doc Hamid's goo!"

Fodor growled: "You're lucky. It's my ambition to make a picture where somebody really is burned at the stake."

"Damned sadist!" said Cassie.

"Of course!" boomed Fodor cheerfully. "All barbarians are sadists at heart!"

"You can't do another take of that scene, anyway," Mary Hopkins put in. "That was the last of those white chemises she's supposed to wear."

"Then we get the local people to stitch us up some more and shoot the whole scene over. I don't like it the way it is. When Randal picks her up, her tits are supposed to pop out. The slips should be cut way down lower."

Groans filled the darkened room. Fodor said: "Okay, okay; I lad. Tomorrow we go on the long chase. The colonel at Castle Kandákh says we can stay all night at his fort. So bring your toothbrushes! He's moving his junior officers out of their rooms for us. Guess he hopes to stick his face in the camera and see his picture in the film."

Alicia and Reith sat their ayas in the foothills of the Qe'bas, watching cameramen struggle up rocky slopes sparsely covered with pink, mauve, and blue-gray herbage.

"One nice thing about making movies on Krishna," she said, "is the long days. Since it takes so much time to get everything set up and put away again, the extra daylight hours give us half again as much actual shooting time as on Terra."

"Lots of disadvantages, too, I suppose," suggested Reith.

"You just bet! No electric power, so we have to haul those super-storage batteries called 'hoarders' along. Oh, there's Attila waving at me. I have to go interpret for him. Don't fall off any cliffs!"

As he watched her receding back, Reith earnestly wished that he could get Alicia alone long enough to resolve the problem of their future. Even if her more-than-sisterly affection for him had been lessened by the Vizman episode, his feelings towards her burned brighter than ever. He felt a growing urge to "have it out" with her. But, in the hustle and bustle of cinematic work, there were scarcely five minutes when one or the other was not absorbed in some chore for Cosmic Productions.

Hour after hour, Reith watched from the sidelines as the chase sequence took form. The action was simple, if strenuous, for the actors involved. Prince Karam, holding a terrified Princess Ayala in the curve of his sturdy arm, galloped up the Balhib road with a dozen villains, played by Mikardando extras, in pursuit.

Over and over, as Fodor raised his bullhorn and bellowed: "Sound! Cameras! Action!" Prince Karam, clutching his leading lady, galloped past the cameras. Each time when Fodor yelled, "Cut!" Karam reined his aya down to a walk and guided it back to the starting point. After the shot had been repeated three or four times, Fairweather and Cassie were allowed to rest while the Krishnan pursuers were photographed galloping up the same stretch of road, again and again.

A short time later, the whole crew moved further up into the hills and repeated the process on another stretch of road. Alicia explained that such a sequence was technically called an alternating syntagma. Cassie's flimsy garment became shabbier by the hour.

Interested though Reith was, as the long day wore on, he found movie-making tediously repetitious. He was impressed by the time and the endless attention to detail that each take called for. A ten-second shot might require up to a quarter or even half an hour of repositioning the cameras, the sound equipment, and the sheets of silvered cardboard used to reflect light on the actors. Everyone, including Alicia, White, and Ordway, pitched in to move equipment.

Reith overheard an altercation between Cassie Norris and Attila Fodor. She screamed: "If you suckers weren't such cheapskates, you'd have brought doubles for the long shots. I'll be so worn out tomorrow, I won't be able to act for shit!" Reith was amused by the contrast between Cassie's raucous, inelegant everyday voice and the sweetly refined tones she used before the cameras.

A Krishnan aya-wrangler spoke to Alicia, who translated. "Attila, he says unless we take time out, we'll founder the mounts."

"Oh, hell, then we get some more ayas!"

"Don't be stupid!" said Randal Fairweather. "You want me to start the ride on a roan and end up on a gray, like when I played d'Artagnan in Swords and Muskets? I never did hear the last of that."

"You shut up!" roared Fodor. "Who's boss here? Anyway, it's time for lunch."

Roqir had disappeared behind the peaks when the fugitives reached Castle Kandakh ahead of their pursuers. Since the light was no longer strong enough for the last shots of the sequence, Fodor reluctantly called time and led the cast and crew into the fort. Those who could ride had ridden up from Zinjaban; those who could not had been ferried up in one of the omnibuses.

Inside the gate, Sir Litáhn's armored troops stood in a double line with drawn swords. As the Terrans approached, they raised their swords and shouted: "Hao na Ertsumak!"

Fodor called back over his shoulder. "Does that mean they welcome us or are going to cut us in pieces?"

"It's a cheer," said Alicia. "Go on in."

"This guy wants to make sure he gets a bit part," growled Fodor. "We'll let him make a cameo appearance." He strode in, grasped thumbs with Sir Litáhn, and made himself agreeable. The others followed.

In what appeared to be an officers' club, a tidied and refreshed film crew assembled for drinks. Reith, Alicia, and Fallon were kept busy interpreting the pleasantries between Earthmen and Krishnans. Ordway came up to Reith, his round face disarmingly respectful. He exclaimed: "I say, Sir Fergus, Tony just told me about your new tide. Isn't that splendid?"

"I hope I don't let it go to my head."

"Oh, surely not!" said Ordway, completely missing Reith's irony. "We all know you're a man of sound character. May I shake your hand? And will you do me the honor of having a drink with me?"

Reith smiled at Ordway's infatuation with titles. He let Ordway press a drink of kvad upon him, then another.

Lady Gashigi appeared, crying: "Ah, my two fah-vo— fay-van-rite Earsmans! How I loov ze Terrans! Get me a da-rink, pa-lease, Cyril."

Reith was congratulated again on his knighthood, and more drinks were thrust at him. He would have liked to stay close to Alicia; but she was surrounded by junior officers and seemed to be enjoying herself.

Sir Litáhn came up with more congratulations and another brimming goblet. By the time a silver trumpet sang the call to dinner, Reith's head was spinning. He started determinedly for Alicia, intending to escort her into the mess and seat her beside him. But an officer buttonholed him to discuss Terran military history. When at last he escaped, he saw that Randal Fairweather had pushed through the circle of Krishnan admirers and captured Alicia's arm. The tall actor was now attentively escorting her into the mess.

Reith arrived at the long table to find all the places near Alicia occupied. He had to take a seat well away from the clump of Terrans that included Bennett Ames, the assistant grip, his wife Cassie Norris, Randal Fairweather, and Jacob White. Alicia sat between Fair-weather and White, facing a row of Krishnan officers of various ranks.

Cassie Norris, wearing a fishnet dress and nothing beneath, kept trying to invite Randal Fairweather's attention. (She must, thought Reith, have forehandedly sent that dress up ahead; most of the Terrans were still in the outdoor clothing they had worn through the day.) But the actor, ignoring Cassie's spectacularly displayed charms, devoted himself to Alicia, detailing his adventures as he played the tide role in Sir Francis Drake. On Cassie's other side, Bennett Ames scowled. Jacob White, frowning in concentration, tried his rudimentary Mikardandou on a Krishnan neighbor. On Reith's side of the table, a well-liquored Cyril Ordway, waving a piece of roast shaihan on an eating spear, declaimed: "One thing I like about this bloody planet is, plenty of beef even if the cow had six legs. Back home, a steak the size of your thumb costs the national debt ..."

Reith scarcely tasted his food. Afterwards, during a showing of the day's rushes, he fell asleep in the darkened room until Fallon nudged him awake.

"Pull up your socks, old boy!" whispered the consul. "You're snoring."

Reith looked up blearily as an officer went around lighting candles set in mirrored sconces on the wall. Then he felt Fodor's large, hairy hand on his arm.

"Fergus!" said Fodor. "I am having anudder party, very exclusive. You and the little Alicia, both come along!"

When Reith's head cleared enough for him to remember anything, he was seated on a divan in a large room, occupied by seven others. Looking about, he wondered if the commandant had turned over his private quarters to Fodor; for the room was sumptuously appointed, with fur rugs on the polished floor and pictures of battle scenes on the walls. Two open doors led to bedrooms.

Silently, Reith berated himself because he, usually one of the most self-disciplined of men, had lowered his guard long enough to get tight—something that had not befallen him a dozen times in an active life. When he managed clearly to focus his eyes, he saw that the other men, besides his host, were Anthony Fallon and Jacob White. The females were Alicia, Gashigi, and Fodor's two women. Reith turned to Michelle.

"How did you get here, Mrs. Fodor? I didn't see you during the shooting."

"La Madame Gashigi, she brought us up in her carriage," said Michelle with a charming smile.

"It is time," said Gashigi, "zat I visited zis pa-lace for ze gov—governam—for ze Ga-rand Master. So I sought it would be nice to ba-ring ze gir-rals to zeir man."

"Anudder round!" shouted Fodor to the Krishnan steward. "Now we sing! I lead!"

Fodor had been drinking two goblets to Reith's one, but the drink seemed merely to make the director more boisterously self-assertive. He bellowed songs in five languages and tried to lead the others. Reith, a mediocre singer, followed a couple of ditties in French and German, but Magyar baffled him.

"Now we dance!" cried Fodor, producing a violin and kicking back a rug with such force as to hurl it into a heap in a corner. Rising, Alicia asked: "What dances do you play, Attila?"

"All kinds! What you like? Waltz? Fox-trot? Khopak? Zulu?"

"How about a tango?"

"Sure, I know a hundred!"

"That would be just divine! Fergus dances a splendid tango." Turning, she grasped Reith's wrist and pulled. "Come on, Fergus! Let's show them!"

"Out of practice," he mumbled. "Besides, I'm afraid I've drunk more than I should have."

"Oh, come on I You'll do fine!"

He got unsteadily to his feet and followed her to the cleared space. Fodor played Jacob Gade's Jalousie and followed it with one of Carlos Gardel's tangos. Reith did not know whether his reflexes took over, or whether Alicia was so good a dancer that she could follow the most inept partner. But he managed the corte, the Argentine cross, and the double flare without bumping anyone, losing his balance, or treading on Alicia's toes.

Reith became aware that Fallon was dancing with Nancy. He glimpsed Gashigi and Michelle trying to haul Jacob White to his feet, despite White's protest that he had never learned to dance.

When Fodor stopped, Reith sank back on his sofa. Fodor pressed another drink upon him. Being overheated with exertion, he drank most of it before he realized his precarious state. Then he set down the goblet and stared glassily at the others, feeling sweat bead his forehead as he fought to keep control.

"Now I show you a dance!" boomed Fodor. "Who else plays the fiddle?"

"I learned as a boy," said White, staring shyly at his hands. "I'll give it a try."

"Know any Gypsy dances? That's what I do!"

"Matter of feet, I had to practice one of them, day after day. Here goes!"

White sailed into Tzigane, by the twenty-first century composer Milescu. Fodor danced solo, stamping and whirling. When White ended the piece, Fodor clapped him on the back with a force that nearly felled him; then put away the violin, gulped another drink, and roared: "Now for the game!"

Fodor whipped out another deck of cards backed by the cipher "F. A. G." and said, "We don't got a table, so we sit on the floor in a circle. Come on!"

He collected an armful of cushions from the sofa and spread them on the floor. "You sit there, Jack! You there, Fergus! You there, Tony! You girls, take the places between."

"Where's Cyril?" asked White.

"He got drunk and is somewhere sleeping it off," roared Fodor. "So in his place I got Tony here, even though the Limey party-pooper don't drink!

"Now, my friends, we will have a orgy. A real orgy. You know what that is? I bet none of you ever had one. So you will remember this night as long as you live. If anyone don't want this kind of fun, he better get the hell out! Okay?

"First, we play strip poker, like I said the other time at Novo. Any objections?"

Reith glanced about, expecting Fodor's women to object again; but only Nancy uttered a timid squeak of: "Well, I don't know ..." Fodor ignored her. White mumbled something about its being against his religion; Fallon grinned in anticipation. Alicia, silent, had donned her poker face.

"Everybody knows the rules?" said Fodor. "You, Gashigi?"

"I haff pa-layed it only one time," she replied. "I sink I know ze rules."

"Fine; maybe we strip you first. The unit of betting is one garment, represented by one chip. Once off, the garment stays off. Straight draw, nossing wild. Here, Fergus, cut!"

Fallon spoke. "But what's the point, Attila? Mere nudity means nothing on this world, especially when we've all been bathing together in the river. Everyone knows what the others look like."

"I know, but I haven't finished. To add a pinch of pepper to the party, I make a new rule. When one of you strips a player of the odder sex, they drop out and screw, right then and there!"

The other players traded startled glances, showing various degrees of apprehension and anticipation. White, looking around like a beast in a trap, mumbled: "Where?"

"Anywhere—on the rug, on the sofa, or you can go in the bedroom."

White muttered: "I may fornicate in the sight of the God of Israel, but I'm damned if I'll do it in the sight of all you reprobates!"

"Attila, really—" began Alicia, but Fodor cut her off with a bellow. "Oh, come on! You're the smartest poker player here, so you can strip any man you like. Besides, is nossing like a orgy to stimulate interest. This will wake you up! Okay, here we go! I deal. You open, Nancy."

Reith felt that something was terribly wrong; that he should have interfered or objected. What if one of these characters stripped Alicia? What would he do? Why didn't she refuse, or better yet rise indignantly and walk out?

If he could only summon the energy to get to his feet, take her hand, and lead her out ... But she might refuse, or explode in a temper tantrum, as she would have twenty years ago. Somebody should do something, Reith felt; but a curious lethargy gripped them all. The combination of liquor, fatigue, and Fodor's intimidating physical presence seemed to have reduced everyone to helpless acquiescence.

Reith opened his mouth to raise an objection; but under the baleful glare of steel-cold eyes beneath Fodor's shaggy brows, the words died in his throat. As Fodor dealt cards, however, Reith became suddenly aware that Alicia was on her feet. Lithe as an eel, from sitting cross-legged she had smoothly risen erect without apparent effort, like a khaki-clad goddess manifesting herself. She took a step towards the door.

"Hey!" said Fodor, also rising. "Where you going?"

"Out," she said. "Sorry, but your game is too full-flavored for me. Give Cassie my place, if you like."

Fodor stepped in front of Alicia. "No, you don't!"

"What do you mean? I'll go where I please!"

She tried to dodge around Fodor, but the director spread orangutanian arms to block her. "If you don't want to play, you should have said so sooner. Now it's too late. I promise myself I win you! I pay you back for telling me how to make my movie!"

"Get out of my way!" said Alicia through set teeth, attempting an end run.

Fodor's long arm shot out and grabbed Alicia's wrist, so tightly as to bring a small cry of pain. Fodor shouted "Like hell—ow!"

Reith saw one of Alicia's boots leave the floor and heard the solid thump of a lack. The cards in Fodor's left hand went flying.

"Ördög! Teufelin!" yelled Fodor, gathering Alicia into a smothering embrace.

Up to that moment, Reith, still in the grip of alcoholic lethargy, had stared bemused, as if witnessing a stage play. Now a surge of fury brought him to his feet. He did not consciously plan his next acts; it was as if some outside agency had taken control of his body.

Before he realized what he was doing, he stepped forward, seized the slack of Fodor's jacket, and wrenched the director around. Alicia squirmed out of Fodor's grasp, and Reith drove his fist into Fodor's belly. As the director, eyes wide with surprise, doubled over, Reith landed two furious punches on his jaw. Fodor staggered back; Reith followed, sinking punch after punch, until Fodor crashed to the floor and lay with limbs twitching like a wounded insect.

"Come on, Lish," said Reith. Wordlessly she grasped the hand he held out. Hand in hand they left the room and walked down the hall to the bedroom assigned to Alicia.

In the bedroom, Alicia spoke. "Fergus, your poor knuckles are bleeding! Let me get my kit to bandage them!"

"Must have hit that blug harder than I realized."

"I never knew you to be so fierce with your fists."

"I'm not, darling. As a kid, I couldn't punch my way out of a paper bag. I guess the sight of that brigand hauling on your arm gave me an extra shot of adrenalin. Besides, he was pretty drunk, or he'd have made hamburger of me."

"There you go, being modest!"

"Not modest; realistic."

"Sometimes you're too realistic for your own good. Why did you do it?"

"Why? You of all people ask why? First, because you obviously didn't want to play. So, what man's going to sit quietly while the girl he—"

The door burst open, and in the doorway stood Attila Fodor with a Krishnan sword in his hand. "Ha!" he said, and strode purposefully towards Reith, a slit-eyed grin on his face.

"Attila! Please!" cried Alicia, throwing herself in front of Reith. "I'll give you what you want, but leave Fergus alone—"

"Out of the way, Alicia!" growled Fodor. "You want to fuck, fine; but after I kill this guy. Nobody beats up Attila Fodor and lives!"

Reith glanced around, but his sword was in the room he shared with Ordway. The only weapon Reith could see was a light chair. He snatched it up. As Fodor went into a fencing stance, Reith wondered if he could parry a lunge.

Alicia whipped the bedspread off the bed, whirled, and threw the heavy cloth so that it settled over Fodor's head and shoulders. The director ripped out a Magyar curse as he struggled with the fabric. While his attacker was still blinded by the spread, Reith swung his chair and smote the swathed form with such force as to break the two front legs of the improvised weapon.

The blow staggered Fodor, who threw off the bedspread just as Reith struck his knees in a football tackle. Both men crashed to the floor. Fodor squirmed over on his back and tried to bring the sword into play, while his free hand clawed at Reith's face.

Clutching fiercely at Fodor's sword arm, Reith got a grip on a finger and bent it back, his muscles quivering with strain. Something cracked, and Fodor yelped. Alicia circled around the struggling pair with her crossbow pistol cocked.

At last Reith wrested the sword out of Fodor's grasp. With all his strength, he brought the pommel down on Fodor's head, again and again. After several blows, the director lay inert.

Reith looked up to see the doorway crowded with staring spectators, including White with his arm around Gashigi, and both of them nude. White's narrow face bore an unhappy look. Reith recognized Hamid Mas'udi, the shooting crew's physician, and called: "Hey, doc! Will you take charge of this clown? Patch him up and tell him next time I won't let him off so easily."

"Are you all right, Mr. Reith?" said the physician.

"Nothing a little washing and bandaging won't fix." Reith rose to his feet. Mas'udi and Fallon hauled Fodor up and staggered out, each with one of Fodor's arms around his neck. The others dispersed. Reith closed and bolted the door, saying: "Stupid of me not to have done that sooner."

"Oh, Fergus, sit down and let me clean you up!" said Alicia, setting down her crossbow pistol and going to the washstand. "Your face is all bloody."

"The bleep was trying to gouge an eye; so I got a few scratches."

A quarter-hour of washing, disinfecting, and bandaging left Reith sore but functional. He said: "Thanks, Lish darling. You've saved my life for the umpteenth time. He'd have drilled me for certain."

She put a hand on each side of his bandaged head and gently kissed him. "Well, you saved me once more. While you two were thrashing around on the floor, I'd have killed him if I could have gotten a clear shot. But what were you about to say when that dreadful man burst in?"

Reith rose, wincing, and paced. "Let me think ... Oh, yes. I was saying, what real man would sit by and watch the girl he loves being manhandled?"

"Fergus! Do you mean that—that—"

Reith took a deep breath. "Of course I mean that. I love you!"

Alicia's smile was like the sun breaking through a leaden overcast. Then, assuming a sober mien, she continued. "Are your intentions honorable or otherwise, sir?"

"I'm just another retarded flatworm! Alicia, will you marry me?"

"Fergus!" She threw her arms around him. "I wondered and wondered when you'd make up your mind! I was determined not to ask again."

"Well, will you or won't you?"

"Will I or won't I what? Ask you?"

"No, silly; marry me."

"You just—but wait a minute. What would Alister say? Minyev said the boy is absolutely opposed."

"Minyev was lying." Reith pulled out the folded note from his son. "As you can see for yourself, he's a hundred percent for it."

Alicia glanced at the note and smiled. "Well, that's a relief! I didn't want to take on the role of a wicked stepmother."

"What made you believe Minyev, without asking me?"

"I—I thought you were just being polite to me, and I'd better end the whole thing."

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Oh, various things, like seeing how Sári adores you."

Reith grinned. "And I thought you weren't serious about me because you seemed so indifferent to my affair with Sari."

"I was jealous as all Hishkak," said Alicia with a spark of her old fire, "but I wasn't going to let you know."

"Good; so let's get back to basics. Will you marry me?"

"You just bet! The sooner the better; I don't want you wriggling off the hook. On the trip back to Krishna, I kept telling myself: When you see Fergus, be friendly but businesslike. Don't daydream of a romantic reconciliation, because he probably won't be available. When I found that you were free and still seemed to like me, it was hard to remember my good resolutions."

"Just as well I didn't know," said Reith. "By the time we reached Zinjaban, I was in love again—or still, after all those years."

"I never stopped loving you," murmured Alicia. "When I got that final decree from a messenger in Katai-Jhogorai, I knew I'd made the ghastliest mistake of my life. But I never could figure how to unmake it. I have been dropping hints; but you were never very sharp about picking them up."

"Oh, I got the message all right! I just wanted to make sure there was water in the pool before I dove in." He gave her a squeeze. "Let's forget all that. At Zinjaban, I was prepared to go to the mat with you—"

"Don't you mean the mattress?"

"Of course, I—" Both burst into laughter, hugging each other until the merriment subsided. Reith continued. "It would have been the mattress, if Cyril hadn't stuck his fat face out and given me a nasty, knowing grin."

As Alicia laid her golden head on his shoulder, Reith asked himself: Would her new gentleness prove lasting? Or might her violent temper surface again? Well, the die was cast; he would have to take his chances, as lovers have done for ages.

Reith smothered a yawn. He did not ask to spend the night with her, nor did she invite him. They simply began casually, like an old married couple, to undress. She took off her shirt and turned her back, saying, "Fergus, will you unhook my bra? This one always gives me trouble."

Reith complied. "Lish, have you a spare toothbrush, to save me from a trip down the hall?"

Later, passion spent, they lay close and relaxed. Reaching out to turn down the bedside lamp, Alicia gave a long sigh. "I don't mean to give you a swelled head, darling; but I've been dreaming of a night like this ever since you saw me off on the Juruá."

"I've thought a lot about it, too," he said sleepily. "We should have started that first night at the ranch. Everybody thinks we've been at it all along."

To Reith's surprise, Alicia sat up. "Oh! I almost forgot." She slipped out of bed, dug into her baggage, and extracted her notebook. Among the pages she found a loose sheet of paper, which she handed over with a cryptic smile. Reith looked at it, puzzled, then realized that it was the missing dedication page from Pirates, Priests, and Potentates. He read: "To my one true love, Fergus MacDonald Reith."

Alicia said: "I almost dedicated the book to 'My Once and Future Husband.' "

"Why didn't you? Then I'd have had to make an honest woman of you."

"What if I'd arrived to find you dead, or happily married? Then wouldn't I have looked silly!"

"I don't know. If I'd been dead, you could say we planned to meet in Heaven."

"And suppose Elizabeth had been smart enough to hang on to you? I wouldn't steal another woman's husband, even if you were stealable—and you're too conscientious for such monkeyshines."

"Darling, forget Elizabeth. You've won fair and square. Come back to bed and I'll prove it!" Laughing, he pulled her down beside him.

"You mean—again, after all you've been through?"

"Absolutely. My strength is as the strength of ten, if not for Sir Galahad's reason."

"Good heavens, that's one part of you that hasn't aged a bit!"

At dawn, an unshaven Reith opened the door of Alicia's room a crack, then strode out in his riding clothes. As he did so, Jacob White emerged from another doorway, halted at the sight of Reith, and said: "Oh, hell! I lost it again!"

Reith turned on him. "You lost what, Jack?"

After an uncomfortable pause, White replied. "Fallon organized a pool, betting how long it would take the pair of you—" (he glanced at Alicia's door)"—to—uh—get together. We've been watching, and I guess Cyril wins. Say, Kostis wants to see you at breakfast!"

"What about?"

"About Attila. It's urgent."

"How is he?" asked Reith.

"In bed with a severe concussion and a broken finger. Doc Hamid says he'll keep him there for at least a few days. They had to hide his clothes to prevent him from going hunting for you, Fergus."

As they walked down the hall towards the mess, Reith asked: "What happened last night after Alicia and I left?"

"We pulled Attila up on a chair, and Fallon tried to get the game going again. I suppose he figured that, being sober, he'd clean up; but nobody had the heart for cards. We had another round of drinks, and then Gashigi asked to speak to me privately in one of the bedrooms.

"When we were alone, she explained that I was to service her in Cyril's place. Good God!"

"Well, how did you make out?"

"I just couldn't. Boy, was she disappointed!"

"Hm," said Reith. "What was your trouble?"

White paused to think. "I guess you'd call it mental—or maybe I should say, moral. You see, I've never had intercourse with anyone except my wife—my former wife, that is."

"How come, 'former'?"

"Because of the gambling."

"They can cure that nowadays," said Reith. "My Alicia had one of those personality lifts back on Terra. It seems to work."

"I know," said White. "She told me about it. But I don't want to be cured! Gambling's my one great pleasure in life."

"I find shepherding Terran tourists through half-civilized countries quite enough of a gamble," mused Reith.

White ignored the comment. "Alicia would have argued some more, but when I said: 'Doctor Dyckman, don't be a yenta!' she shut up."

Thoughtfully, Reith said, "The Moritzian treatment must have worked wonders on Alicia. In the old days, she'd have gone after you hammer and tongs, until you either reformed or fled the country."

"I'm just not cut out for screwing around," said White with a touch of pathos. "My father's a Conservative rabbi, and I was brought up strict. Whether Gashigi's human or not, it's a sin either way. If she's human—a land of super-shiksa—it's fornication. Jf not, it says in Exodus that, 'Whosoever lieth with a beast shall surely be put to death.' I guess I'm not sorry I foiled, though it's hard on the ego."

"What else went on—I mean, in the living room?"

"I don't know; by the time I gave up with Gashigi, the others were gone. I suppose that when Attila came to, he borrowed the general's spare sword and went looking for you. What are you and Alicia going to do, Fergus?"

Reith smiled. "Lish and I mean to make it official, that's all."

"You mean ..."

"Yep, we're engaged, betrothed, plighted, and affianced."

"Congratulations! When two forceful people like you team up, nothing short of murder can stop you!"

When Reith and White entered the mess hall, they found Stavrakos seated at one of the long tables. He mumbled a greeting with his mouth full of scrambled bijar egg.

"How did you get here, boss?" asked Reith, who had visions of the rotund Stavrakos bouncing perilously on the back of an aya.

"Took one of the omnibuses," grunted Stavrakos. "I heard about your fracas—oh, hello, Alicia! Sit down and have a bite. Fodor swears to kill you, Fergus. Says he'll challenge you to a duel. If you won't fight him with swords, he'll chop you down whenever he sees you."

The sleepy smile with which Alicia had entered the mess disappeared. She leaned forward tensely.

"What am I supposed to do about it?" said Reith.

"We want you to go away for a while," said the producer.

"You mean cut and run? I'm not afraid of that bastard! I'll meet him—"

"Fergus!" said Alicia. "Listen to reason. We can go visit that rancher friend of yours across the mountains."

Angrily, Reith began: "I'm damned if I'll let an oversized ego chase me out—"

Alicia laid a hand on his arm. "Please! Who loves to lecture me on taking foolish risks? And we need a break—"

"But, damn it—"

"Shut up, Reith!" said Stavrakos. "You listen to me! In the first place, if you fight him, he'll probably kill you. He's a one-time saber-fencing champion of Hungary. If you got killed, I'd be sorry, but I could bear it. But if you killed him by chance, it would raise holy hell with our production. Millions would go down the drain, and it's my money! So take your buggy and amble over to that ranch and stay there until we send word to come back."

As Reith opened his mouth to protest, Stavrakos barked: "That's an order! And if you don't think I have the authority to make you go, read your contract! If you refuse, you've broken the contract, and I won't pay you one of those little brass Krishnan coins—what do they call em?"

"An arzu. All right, I'll make you a deal. You've owed me the first half of the payment on that contract ever since you arrived, but you've put me off with excuses. Pay up, and I'll go to that ranch with Alicia, who's—"

"Hey! We need her here, to interpret!"

"I'll lend you my tour assistant in her place. Timásh's English is pretty good; and besides, you have Strachan and Fallon. Alicia is my fiancée, and where I go, she goes."

"Oh," said Stavrakos, scratching himself.

"If you don't pay up," continued Reith, "I'll do my best to kill Fodor, and to hell with your movie!"

Stavrakos stared and chewed his hp. Then he gave a sour little smile. "Now that's what I call a sensible man! Liquor and sex and tides are all very nice, but money is the real arithmos enas—number one to you." He brought out his wallet. "Will you take a draft on the Novorecife bank?"

"Okay." Reith shrugged and turned to White. "Do me a favor, Jack. Find Timásh and tell him to get the gig and the animals ready."

With the draft in his pocket, Reith returned to his room to pack. He found Ordway sitting up and stretching. "I say, Sir Fergus, whither away?"

Reith explained. "Thanks to Kostis, we're taking a kind of pre-honeymoon."

"Mean you're really going to ..."

"Yep. Soon as we can get to the proper authority—oh, good morning, Tony."

Fallon appeared in the doorway. "Alicia told me you two were outward bound," he said.

"That's right. Could you, as a Terran consul, marry the two of us, right now?"

"Wow, what a question! Let me think. No; it would be legal only if performed in the consulate at Mishé, with the necessary papers all signed."

"Then it'll have to be honeymoon first, wedding second."

"But I say! IT you regard her as a sister, as you claimed, isn't that a bit incestuous?"

Reith smiled. With fawning deference, Ordway said: "I shan't say it doesn't cost me a pang, Sir Fergus. But if I've got to lose the bird, I couldn't lose her to a better man. Of course there's a disadvantage to such a ripping attractive wife."

"Yes?"

"There'll always be other men dangling after her. If she ever gives you the boot again, she'll have plenty of other choices."

Reith chuckled. "I'll take my chances. So long, you two!"

Reith shouldered his bag, picked up Alicia and her luggage, and soon was driving his gig up the long slope of a winding road through the mountains, with the spare aya trotting behind. Alicia nestled close beside him, enjoying the view of the rugged mountain tops emerging from the morning mist. At last she broke the spell.

"Do you know what that lunatic wanted to do?"

"Which lunatic?"

"Attila Fodor, of course. He thought he'd have a more realistic battle if he allowed the Mikardanduma to use real weapons, while the Gozashtanduma fought with wooden ones. Then there'd be plenty of gore and severed heads all over. By the time the survivors of Gilan's men got back to Ruz to complain, as he figured it, he and his crew would be on their way to Terra and beyond Krishnan vengeance. What would happen to you and the other Krishnanders didn't matter."

"So that's why our Scourge of God was so keen on having the fake Krishnan blood just the right color! He couldn't have Lord Whozis bleed red when he gets his throat cut, and then have those poor Ruzo knights bleed green on the battlefield. What stopped him?"

"One of Attila's women thought it a terrible idea and leaked it to me. So I rounded up Ken and Jack and Tony and bullied them into going to Kostis to protest. I tried to get Cyril to come with us, but he'd only help for a price. You can guess what fee he named."

Reith made a fist and inspected his knuckles. "One of these days ..."

Alicia smiled fondly and went on. "Luckily the four of us worked Kostis round. He wanted to let Attila's plan go through, until we convinced him it would cost him a fortune in the long run. The story would get back to Earth; and he'd be fined millions and his company grounded. No more space movies for him!"

"Darling," said Reith, sliding an arm around Alicia and giving her a squeeze, "being married to a super-woman will be a more fantastic adventure than anything Kostis's script writers could think up!"