Part 10 (1/2)

Kyral's voice perceptibly trembled with rage. ”You dare to come into my own home after I have tracked you to the Kharsa and back, blind fool that I was! But now you shall pay.”

The whip sang through the air, hissing past my shoulders. I dodged to one side, retreating step by step as Kyral swung the powerful thongs. It cracked again, and a pain like the burning of red-hot irons seared my upper arm. My skean rattled down from numb fingers.

The whip whacked the floor.

”Pick up your skean,” said Kyral. ”Pick it up if you dare.” He poised the lash again.

The fat woman screamed.

I stood rigid, gauging my chances of disarming him with a sudden leap.

Suddenly the girl Dallisa leaped from her seat with a harsh musical chiming of chains.

”Kyral, no! No, Kyral!”

He moved slightly, but did not take his eyes from me. ”Get back, Dallisa.”

”No! Wait!” She ran to him and caught his whip-arm, dragging it down, and spoke to him hurriedly and urgently. Kyral's face changed as she spoke; he drew a long breath and threw the whip down beside my skean on the floor.

”Answer straight, on your life. What are you doing in Shainsa?”

I could hardly take it in that for the moment I was reprieved from sudden death, from being beaten into b.l.o.o.d.y death there at Kyral's feet.

The girl went back to her thronelike chair. Now I must either tell the truth or a convincing lie, and I was lost in a game where I didn't know the rules. The explanation I thought might get me out alive might be the very one which would bring down instant and painful death. Suddenly, with a poignancy that was almost pain, I wished Rakhal were standing here at my side.

But I had to bluff it out alone.

If they had recognized me for Race Cargill, the Terran spy who had often been in Shainsa, they might release me--it was possible, I supposed, that they were Terran sympathizers. On the other hand, Kyral's shouts of ”Spy, renegade!” seemed to suggest the opposite.

I stood trying to ignore the searing pain in my lashed arm, but I knew that blood was running hot down my shoulder. Finally I said, ”I came to settle blood-feud.”

Kyral's lips thinned in what might have been meant for a smile. ”You shall, a.s.suredly. But with whom, remains to be seen.”

Knowing I had nothing more to lose, I said, ”With a renegade called Rakhal Sensar.”

Only the old man echoed my words dully, ”Rakhal Sensar?”

I felt heartened, seeing I wasn't dead yet.

”I have sworn to kill him.”

Kyral suddenly clapped his hands and shouted to the white _chak_ to clean up the broken gla.s.s on the floor. He said huskily, ”You are not yourself Rakhal Sensar?”

”I _told_ you he wasn't,” said Dallisa, high and hysterically. ”I _told_ you he wasn't.”

”A scarred man, tall--what was I to think?” Kyral sounded and looked badly shaken. He filled a gla.s.s himself and handed it to me, saying hoa.r.s.ely, ”I did not believe even the renegade Rakhal would break the code so far as to drink with me.”

”He would not.” I could be positive about this. The codes of Terra had made some superficial impress on Rakhal, but down deep his own world held sway. If these men were at blood-feud with Rakhal and he stood here where I stood, he would have let himself be beaten into b.l.o.o.d.y rags before tasting their wine.

I took the gla.s.s, raised it and drained it. Then, holding it out before me, I said, ”Rakhal's life is mine. But I swear by the red star and by the unmoving mountains, by the black snow and by the Ghost Wind, I have no quarrel with any beneath this roof.” I cast the gla.s.s to the floor, where it shattered on the stones.

Kyral hesitated, but under the blazing eyes of the girl he quickly poured himself a gla.s.s of the wine and drank a few sips, then flung down the gla.s.s. He stepped forward and laid his hands on my shoulders. I winced as he touched the welt of the lash and could not raise my own arm to complete the ceremonial toast.