The Tritonian Ring and Other Pasudian Tales (21 page)

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Authors: L. Sprague de Camp

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Fiction

BOOK: The Tritonian Ring and Other Pasudian Tales
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Vakar left the ground in a long
leap,
caught the rider about the upper body as he struck it, and both tumbled to the turf on the far side in a tangle of thrashing limbs. Vakar, recovering first from the fall, slammed his fist into his victim's jaw. The slight body relaxed long enough for Vakar to roll it over and twist its arms behind its back.

 

             
"Fual!" he roared.

 

             
"Here, sir—"

 

             
"Where in the seven hells have you been?"

 

             
"I—I was just going to make the noise, my lord,—but it took me so long to work up my courage—"

 

             
"I'll deal with you later; meanwhile lively with that strap!"

 

             
Vakar indicated the wrists of the rider, which Fual bound. The rider began to struggle until Vakar belted it across the face with his fist.

 

             
"Now we'll see about its sex," he said.

 

             
The reptile-skin armor opened down one side and was kept closed by a series of thong ties. Vakar fumbled with the unfamiliar knots, then impatiently sawed the garment open with his dagger and pulled the front of it away from the wearer's chest. There was no questioning its
fem
in
i
ni
ty
.

 

             
"Not bad for a warrior maiden," said Vakar,
then
spoke in Phaiaxian: "You! Do you understand me?"

 

             
"If you speak slowly," said the Amazon in a dialect of the same language.

 

             
"I wish to make contact with the Tritons, and you shall guide me to their camp."

 

             
"Then what will happen to me?"

 

             
"You may do as you like, once the Tritons are in sight. Come along."

 

             
With her hands still tied and Fual holding the striped horse, Vakar boosted the Amazon back on to her mount. She sat glowering at him with her torso bare to the waist. Vakar handed the shield and lance to Fual, put his own baldric back on, mounted, and drew his sword.

 

             
"Which way?" he asked, grasping the Amazon's bridle.

 

             
The Amazon jerked her head westward, so Vakar set off along the trail in that direction. After they had ridden for some time he turned his head to ask:

 

             
"What do you call these horses with the giddy color-scheme?"

 

             
She glared silently until he hefted his sword in a meaningful manner,
then
sullenly answered: "Zebras."

 

             
"And what is that shield made of?
The hide of some great beast?"

 

             
"A rhinoceros.
A beast with a horn on its nose."

 

             
"Oh. I saw one of those on my ride thither, like a giant pig. And what do those feathers come from?"

 

             
"A bird called an ostrich, found in the Desert of Gwedulia."

 

             
"A bird with such feathers must overshadow the earth with its wings like a thundercloud when it flies."

 

             
"Ha, it does not fly at all! It runs like a horse, and stands as tall as you and your mount together."

 

             
"How about your armor?"

 

             
"That is from the great serpents found in the swamps around Lake Tritonis."

 

             
"Truly Tritonia must be a land of many strange beasts. Yesterday I saw three beasts like our Pusadian mammoth, but hairless—
H
é
!"

 

             
Everything happened at once. They had come around
a
hill to see
a
group of Amazons trotting towards them along a side-road leading up from the lake, which showed blue through notches in the dusty olive-green landscape. The captive Amazon leaned forwards and dug her heels into the zebra's ribs. The animal bounded, tearing the bridle out of Vakar's grasp. The Amazon shrieked something and galloped towards her fellows.

 

             
Vakar slashed at her as she went by him. Though he struck to kill he struck too late; the blade whistled through empty air.

 

             
He leaned forward in his turn and galloped. As the Amazons came up to the main road, Vakar and Fual and the spare horses thundered past, going in the same direction as before. A glance showed Vakar that his ex-captive, hampered by her bound arms, had fallen off her zebra. Vakar hoped that she had broken her neck.

 

             
Vakar's animals had been trave
ll
ing all day and so were too tired to keep ahead of their fresh pursuers. Little by
little
the Amazons gained. Vakar thanked the gods of Lorsk that none of them carried bows; no doubt the scrubby trees of this dry country did not provide good wood for bow-staves.

 

             
Still the long slender lances came closer through the clouds of dust. A determined thrust would get through Vakar's leather jack, and even if it did not they would kill Fual and take the spare mounts and the baggage. There were five of them, too many for Vakar to wheel and charge into the midst of them.

 

             
A few more paces and they would be
up
...

 

             
The pursuers reined in with high feminine cries. Ahead of them appeared a score of riders clad in similar snakeskin armor, with crests of zebra-tail instead of ostrich-plumes. The Amazons galloped off. Vakar was tempted to do likewise, but reason told him that the panting horses would
not get very far, and besides these were probably the Tritons whom he wished to reach.

 

             
As they came up he called: "The gods be with you!"

 

             
They surrounded him, long lances levelled, and one said: "Who are you?"

 

             
"Vakar of Lorsk, on my way to visit your king."

 

             
"Indeed? Our king does not admit every passing vagabond to his intimacy. You shall enter our service at the bottom and work your way up, if you the guts. Seize him, men."

 

-

 

XI. –
THE TRITONIAN RING

 

             
They took away Vakar's sword and knife, but missed the poisoned dagger in his shirt. They tied his and Fual's hands, while one rummaged through Vakar's scrip and exclaimed with delight over the wealth therein. "Come along," said the leader.

 

             
Vakar rode slowly in the midst of them, with spear-points poised to prod him should he make a break.

 

             
"Am I a dog?" he growled. "I am a prince in my own country, and if you do not treat me as such it will be the worse for you."

 

             
The leader leaned over and slapped Vakar's face with his gauntleted hand.

 

             
"Shut up," he said. "What you may be in another country means nothing to us."

 

             
Vakar's face became suffused with blood and he gritted his teeth. He rode silently fuming until they came to the shores of the lake, where a permanent fortified camp was set up. On the lakeward side of the camp a jetty had been built out into the
water,
and to this was secured a big shallow-draft galley-barge.

 

             
The leader of the Tritons placed his hand against Vakar's shoulder and gave a sharp push. Vakar fell off his horse into the dirt, giving his shoulder a painful bruise. Fual followed his master into the muck, and the Tritons laughed loudly.

 

             
While Vakar was straggling into a sitting position a kick in the ribs knocked him over again, sick and dizzy with pain.

 

             
"Get up, lazybones!" said the officer. "And get aboard."

 

             
Vakar hobbled down the slope to the barge while the Tritons made off with his horses and property. He and Fual were prodded aboard, and the boat was cast off and rowed out into the lake. Vakar huddled in the bow, too
despondent to pay heed to his surroundings until Fual beside him exclaimed:

 

             
"Sir!
Prince Vakar! Look at.
that
!"

 

             
Something was floating beside the barge: a thing like a great rough-barked log, except that logs do not keep up with galleys by swimming with an undulant motion. Vakar gulped and said to the nearest Triton:

 

             
"What is that?
One of your great serpents?"

 

             
"That is a crocodile," said the man. "The serpents keep to the swamps. The abundance of crocodiles accounts for the fact that although we live on the water, no Triton can swim, for if you
fell overboard that fellow yonder would have you before you could yell for a rope. So think not to escape from
Menê
by swimming."

 

             
Another Triton said: "It would be fun to lower him by a rope and then snatch him out when the crocodile snapped at him."

 

             
"Amusing, but it would probably cost us a recruit. Do you not value unlimited commerce with women more highly?"

 

             
Vakar mulled over this exchange. The last remark no doubt referred to the Tritons' hopes of winning their war and reducing the Amazons to the status of housewives whence they had risen. It gave them an idea of how to approach King Ximenon. After all he had helped to negotiate the treaty with Zhysk last year. If he was not overly likeable, his dour reserve gave some folk a trust in his impartiality that they might not otherwise have.

 

             
When an hour later they tied up at a similar
pier on the island of Menê
, the Tritons
hustled Vakar and Fual ashore. A small fortified city, also called
Menê,
stood tangent to the shorefront. The Tritons conducted Vakar to a stockade, thrust him inside, removed his bonds, and left him. Fual they took elsewhere.

 

             
Vakar stretched his cramped arms and looked around. There were about a score of men of various tribes and races, from a stout ebony-skinned fellow from Blackland to a towering fair-haired Atlantean. Most wore ragged clo
t
hing and straggly beards.

 

             
"Good day," said Vakar.

 

             
The men looked at him and at each other, and began to sidle towards him. Soon they were all around him, grinning. One of them professed much interest in his clothing, pinching it and saying:

 

             
"A gentleman, eh?"

 

             
Another gave Vakar a sharp push, which made him stagger against another, who pushed him back. Prince Vakar had never been hazed in his life, so this treatment bewildered and infuriated him. At the next push he shouted: "I'll show you swine!" and hit the pusher in the face.

 

             
He never had a chance to see how effective his blow had been, because they all jumped on him at once. They caught his arms, and blows rained upon
him
...

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