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heard here and there, were merely rumors. Rumors of the tragedy that had overtaken Princess Lilah of
Hyrklana.
So I marched down from the jungly foothills where I had hidden Trylon Nath Orscop s voller. And, of
course, he had not lost on the deal. The airboat I had left in the clearing, the one of the three we had
liberated in Khorunlad was fair recompense.
The island of Pandahem, between Vallia to the north and Havilfar to the south, is divided into two halves
by a massive east-west chain of mountains, variously named along their rambling length. Kingdoms divide
up the northern portion of the island, lands some of which I knew well. The southern half s kingdoms
were virtually unknown to me, and were mostly smothered in thick, lush, hot, and mostly inhospitable
jungles.
Walking along the overgrown path toward the town of Mahendrasmot I fell into conversation with a
lanky Relt. He was clad decently in loincloth and sandals, with his rolled coat over one shoulder. Looking
like skinnier replicas of their distant cousins the fierce and voracious Rapas, the Relts do have beaked
faces, but these are of altogether a gentler aspect. He carried a hollow bamboo filled with pens, and a
scrip with paper and three bottles of ink, bamboo bottles, swung at his girdle.
He was a stylor, and so we fell into easy conversation, as I had been a stylor at one time, working for
the Overlords of Magdag. He, this Relt called Ravenshal, knew nothing of the inner sea of Kregen, of
course.
The fair, Jak? he said, striding along easily, with the deep green of the foliage each side of the path
framing his eager birdlike face. It is a dire place, dreadful, sometimes. There are a large number of
seafaring folk who go there, and, well, you know how rough they are.
Yes, Ravenshal. They lead a rough life.
People come from a long distance to the fairground. The sailors from the swordships are almost as bad
as the renders they chase.
Do pirates frequent these coasts?
Naturally. Commerce is brisk.
Of course. And do you know the Golden Prychan?
He gave his beak a brisk rub with his fist. Then: I would not wish to know the place. It is infamous.
Well, I commented to myself, that sounds a capital place to hoick Turko out of.
In Trylon Nath s airboat I had stumbled on a bundle of clothes, and so had selected a plain brown tunic
and a short blue cloak. I had without any regrets laid aside the splendid mesh steel. That was like to get
me into trouble where I was going, among wrestlers. But I carried my weapons. They, of course, would
attract no undue attention.
Ravenshal told me he had been up to take a deposition from a tree-tapper who lived up in the hills. His
wife had run off and he wanted the lord of Mahendrasmot to send men to find her and had offered a
reward of a hundred silver dhems.
He must care for her I said.
Perhaps. Ravenshal, belittling his nervous ways, had seen most of it. But it is lonely up in the hills.
That s why she ran off, then. Some young spark from the city, I shouldn t wonder.
If Notor Pergon lays hands on him, he will wish he had not seduced another man s wife away.
Strict, is he, this Notor Pergon? And with this notorious fairground in his city?
Ravenshal fisted his beak again. Yes, strict. He is a strom, and proud of that. The fairground brings in
money. But Notor Pergon will take the hundred silver dhems for his trouble, and take his pleasure out on
the hide of the young man.
If he catches him.
He will, he will, if such a man exists. He runs his city as the suns cross the sky, does the notor.
So as we walked down the overgrown track to the city we talked and I learned a little something of the
place my Turko passed his life away in a fairground booth.
The mild Relt stylor was anxious to get back to his wife and children, saying he lived in a pretty little
house near the men s quarters of the steel works. There is a modicum of regular work to be had there,
Jak. And then, with that gracious little lift to his beak that Relts have, he said, I do not know why you
go to Mahendrasmot, but you would do me honor if you supped with me and my family this night.
Well, now...
I said with a gravity that was not assumed, It is you who do me the honor, Stylor Ravenshal. I shall be
delighted.
So that was how I, a desperado of desperadoes as you know only too well entered this strict city
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