Poul Anderson by The Man Who Counts

Author:The Man Who Counts
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-11-24T12:36:25+00:00

XII

When the Lannachska were ready to fight, they were called to Salmenbrok by Tolk’s Whistlers until the sky darkened with their wings. Then Trolwen made his way through a seethe of warriors to Van Rijn.

“Surely the gods are weary of us,” he said bitterly. “Near always, at this time of year, there are strong south winds.” He gestured at a breathless heaven. “Do you know a spell for raising dead breezes?”

The merchant looked up, somewhat annoyed. He was seated at a table outside the wattle-and-clay hut they had built for him beyond the village—for he refused to climb ladders, or sleep in a damp cave—dicing with Corps Captain Srygen for the beryl-like gemstones which were a local medium of exchange. The number of species in the galaxy which have independently invented some form of African golf is beyond estimation.

“Well,” he snapped, “and why must you have your tail fanned? … Ah, seven! No, pox and pills, I remember, here seven is not a so good number. Well, we try again.” The three cubes clicked in his hand and across the table. “Hm-m-m, seven again.” He scooped up the stakes. “Double or nothings?”

“The ghost-eaters take it!” Srygen got up. “You’ve been winning too motherless often for my taste.”

Van Rijn surged to his own feet like a broaching whale. “By damn, you take that back or—”

“I said nothing challengeable,” Srygen told him coldly.

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