Part 67 (1/2)
Burke said: The same. I thought you'd be sold down the river by now.
Tony said coolly: Any hour now. This bunch is about as efficient as you Lowlives.
Burke said: Touche bubi. But you don't have anything to worry about you know. I made sure Aiken Drum would treat you right before I even agreed to bring you into Roniah. Not that I could tell the rest of my people that.
Tony said: I hope you held out for more than a string of wampum and a return ticket to Utopia Limited in exchange for me.Burke said: We also got this powerboat plus all the weaponry we could carry. Now we're on our way to Nionel where the rest of our Hidden Springs folks have gone to escape Firvulag raiders.
Tony said: Nionel?
Burke said: Not many Lowlives left in the Vosges. Or anywhere else in the Firvulag stamping grounds. Nionel is about our only alternative to joining up with Aiken Drum ... until the time-gate reopens.
Tony said: Well ta-ta and don't bother to write.
Burke said: No hard feelings?
Tony said: Number 10 on Moh's Scale will suffice.
Burke said: Nasty nasty. And I was trying to be Kemosabe.
Tony said: Burke ... my wife's in Nionel. I left her. I was an a.s.s. I'll try to contact her but if anything happens will you tell her I'll try to come back somehow? This is what she looks like. [Image.] Her name is Rowane.
Burke said: I'll tell her. She looks like a sweetminded little lady. Shalom bubi. Keep out of trouble for a change.
Tony didn't bother to answer. He sat with his head down and the world blotted out, sequestered in the golden solitude of his torc. Two more hours pa.s.sed. Lord Neyal's minions, having finally finished the loading, were now obliged to hunt out the riverboat crews among the taverns and knocking shops of the waterfront. The guard on the pier was a.s.siduously maintained.
Tony was roused from his reverie when something sharp jabbed him in the breastbone. He opened his eyes with an indignant squawk and saw a heavy-set man dressed in outlaw rags at the other end of an iron-tipped lance.
”Keep your trap shut, Lowlife,” said a harsh whisper. ”If you move or farspeak, I'll skewer you like a broiled lark.”
Some kind of rude boarding ladder had been hooked over the stern. The ruffian climbed up and was immediately followed by a dozen or so comrades. Two had Matsu carbines and the rest carried iron weapons.
”How many people on this tub?” enquired the leading rascal.
”I didn't see anyone but the knight guarding the gangplank,”
Tony replied. The spear s.h.i.+fted to his Adam's apple and began to p.r.i.c.k. ”For G.o.d's sake believe me! I'm only a b.l.o.o.d.y pa.s.senger. A prisoner!” He held up the gla.s.s chains. ”Most of the soldiers were out on the dock when I came aboard. That was hours ago.”
”Search the boat,” ordered the spearman.
There were soft splashes out among the other moored vessels.
The moon was not yet up and the Rhone, swathed in mist, was nearly pitch-black just a few metres off the sternrail. Sounds of music and jollity arose from the region beyond the cordon, and Roniah's faerie lights were all turned on, spangling the buildings with amber and blue. It seemed likely that the city was prematurely celebrating the Truce, and the departure of the convoy had been postponed in spite of royal orders to the contrary.
Most of the boarding party had gone off to investigate the inner reaches of Tony's boat. ”You're making a big mistake, you know,” he hissed urgently. ”You Lowlives don't have to steal from the Tanu cities any more. There's an amnesty. I suppose you're after weapons.”
”Smart little nipper, isn't he, Pingol?” observed a hulking villain armed with a zapper.
”Too d.a.m.n smart.” The iron lance drew a gentle semicircle from one of Tony's ears to the other, snicking his golden torc en route. ”On the other hand, his metapsychic powers are pretty pitiful, as any fool can plainly see, and he's a f.u.c.king coward to boot. So why is he wearing gold? To say nothing of the G.o.ddess's holy fetters?”