The Bronze of Eddarta by Randall Garrett

Author:Randall Garrett [Garrett, Randall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-625670-29-8
Publisher: Jabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
Published: 2014-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

11

I spent the next couple of hours getting acquainted with the area and with the rules, courtesy of a wrinkled old man who seemed to be a butler-type person for the barracks. He issued me a sword—to be used until Sendar came off duty and returned my own (Thymas’s)—and delivered all his information in a bored monotone, eyes and voice aimed into the air above my left shoulder.

My quarters were surprisingly comfortable—one large room, divided into sleeping and visiting areas. The duty roster was complicated, but not hard to live with. A series of shifts (six hours on, six off) for three days, then one full day off. Meals were served in a community room, except on your day off Then, if you requested it, a woman would serve your dinner in your rooms, and stay with you through the night.

So that’s what Sendar meant by the “extra benefits” to be had by working for Pylomel.

“The High Lord is very generous,” I said to the old man, whose name was Willon. “Who do I ask for this extra service?”

“The High Lord ain’t got much to do with it,” Willon said, looking straight at me, finally. “You ask me when you’re ready.”

“Ah-huh. And how much do I pay you?” I asked.

“Not a zak,” he said. I must have let my skepticism show, because he got defensive. “Oh, I get paid, all right—a portion of what they get. And before you ask, you don’t pay them, either. The Guard has a friend who really appreciates the work we do.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. “Would this friend’s name be Gharlas?”

The old man peered at me suspiciously. “How’d you know that?”

I shrugged. “I may have just come into town, Willon, but I know how to keep my ears open. And, before you ask, my mouth is shut.”

“Good,” he said, with an emphatic nod, and the matter was closed. “You’ll be on the supper shift this evening, so you best take a short rest.”

I did, in fact, lie down on the fluffy pallet for a few minutes. But I was too restless to sleep.

So far, I had been able to control the execution of our plan, at least to some extent. I had been very lucky, too—I was well aware of that. But I had been the one taking action, and I had felt a sense of confidence, knowing that success or failure were, for the moment, entirely my responsibility.

Now it was different. The next step was Tarani’s play. I felt a different kind of confidence in her, a sureness that she would do whatever was necessary. But not being able to see what she did was like an unreachable itch.

Finally, I went into the common room. I watched the mondea game for a little while, sat in for a few rounds. But I kept feeling more and more restless, and finally had to excuse myself and walk around. I found myself in the court between the barracks and the “back door” of Pylomel’s home.

Tarani/Rassa was coming through the entryway, followed by two slaves who were loaded down with bolts of cloth.

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