moment.
“What do you mean he insulted the men of Teetol?”
“He think that no one in Teuta village speak Verio. But I Fish Eye, I speak Verio good. Yes?”
“Umm, yes, you do. And what did you hear my officer say?”
“He say Teetol are witless savages to go in bare feet in snow.”
“I see.” Paxion turned back to Glaves. His anger mellowing into a warm anticipation.
“Is this true, Commander?”
Glaves frothed. “Absolutely not, sir, I am heedful of our orders to befriend the Teetol.”
Fish Eye was laughing again. He bellowed out a stream of Teetol to his friends, and the crowd of men and youths erupted into widespread laughter.
“Well-done, Commander,” murmured Paxion with heavy-handed irony. “You’ve convinced them that Argonath men have souls of craven curs, hearts of chickens, and heads of dogs. I don’t know what you said, but I am certain that you said something. Fish Eye is a man of honor, he may be a little proud, but looking at him I’d say he has reason to be.” Paxion shrugged. “You’ll have to meet the man face-to-face unless you can think of something clever.”
“Preposterous,” expostulated Glaves. “My dignity as a commander…”
“Will be gone completely if your men think you are afraid to face this man. So will the honor of your regiment.”
“I refuse.”
“Then you will be publicly branded a coward.”
Glaves swallowed. Total disaster; a taint of cowardice would doom his political ambitions. There was no way out.
As if in a horrid dream, Porteous Glaves found himself stripped to the waist in the driving snow while a six-foot-long pole was thrust into his hands.
Fish Eye stood a few feet away, surrounded by friends and supporters who were placing bets on how many blows it would take to knock down the fat fool from the city.
Fish Eye handled the six-foot pole with a cheerful informality that bespoke long use and much experience. It seemed to slice through the air like a live thing. Glaves was sure this was going to be one of the worst days of his life.
Now the troops were coming out of the tents to watch. It wasn’t often they got the chance to see a senior officer get beaten to a pulp.
There was an air of barely restrained hilarity among the men of the Eighth Regiment. Since Glaves had introduced the leather neck cuffs, they had hated him passionately. He had also had two men flogged for having a sip of whiskey in their tent. It was a legal punishment, but unnecessary since neither of the men were drunkards. Their eyes shone with a peculiar luster now as they watched the preparations.
Dandrax gave him a swallow of whiskey. He coughed as it burned its way down, but it left him feeling a tiny bit better.
“You strike first, sir,” said Dandrax.
Glaves took a deep breath. Of course, that was it, the way out. This simple savage had miscalculated.
“Exactly, exactly, good point. Hit the fellow hard enough, and he won’t come back for more.” Glaves practiced a few swings with the pole. It was dreadfully solid yet flexible, a terrible thing to strike a man with.
Fish Eye stood forth. “It is time, come out to face me dog-faced chicken heart.” Fish Eye thrust out his chest and stood there waiting.
Glaves swung the rod a few more times then stepped up, gathered all his strength and lashed out. The thing whistled through the air and then with a solid smack it struck Fish Eye on the chest.
It was as if he’d struck a tree. Fish Eye barely blinked for a moment, then gave him a huge smile, raised a finger at him, and wagged it back and forth.
The Teetol erupted into roars of approval and laughter. Now they would see Fish Eye strike his blow. Fish Eye was famous in the entire region for his strength with the pole.
Fish Eye began taking a few trial swings with his own rod. Glaves’s throat went dry.
“Stand straight chicken-hearted dog that serves women. Now you will feel the rod of Fish Eye.”
Everyone was watching, even the general. His disgrace,
“What do you mean he insulted the men of Teetol?”
“He think that no one in Teuta village speak Verio. But I Fish Eye, I speak Verio good. Yes?”
“Umm, yes, you do. And what did you hear my officer say?”
“He say Teetol are witless savages to go in bare feet in snow.”
“I see.” Paxion turned back to Glaves. His anger mellowing into a warm anticipation.
“Is this true, Commander?”
Glaves frothed. “Absolutely not, sir, I am heedful of our orders to befriend the Teetol.”
Fish Eye was laughing again. He bellowed out a stream of Teetol to his friends, and the crowd of men and youths erupted into widespread laughter.
“Well-done, Commander,” murmured Paxion with heavy-handed irony. “You’ve convinced them that Argonath men have souls of craven curs, hearts of chickens, and heads of dogs. I don’t know what you said, but I am certain that you said something. Fish Eye is a man of honor, he may be a little proud, but looking at him I’d say he has reason to be.” Paxion shrugged. “You’ll have to meet the man face-to-face unless you can think of something clever.”
“Preposterous,” expostulated Glaves. “My dignity as a commander…”
“Will be gone completely if your men think you are afraid to face this man. So will the honor of your regiment.”
“I refuse.”
“Then you will be publicly branded a coward.”
Glaves swallowed. Total disaster; a taint of cowardice would doom his political ambitions. There was no way out.
As if in a horrid dream, Porteous Glaves found himself stripped to the waist in the driving snow while a six-foot-long pole was thrust into his hands.
Fish Eye stood a few feet away, surrounded by friends and supporters who were placing bets on how many blows it would take to knock down the fat fool from the city.
Fish Eye handled the six-foot pole with a cheerful informality that bespoke long use and much experience. It seemed to slice through the air like a live thing. Glaves was sure this was going to be one of the worst days of his life.
Now the troops were coming out of the tents to watch. It wasn’t often they got the chance to see a senior officer get beaten to a pulp.
There was an air of barely restrained hilarity among the men of the Eighth Regiment. Since Glaves had introduced the leather neck cuffs, they had hated him passionately. He had also had two men flogged for having a sip of whiskey in their tent. It was a legal punishment, but unnecessary since neither of the men were drunkards. Their eyes shone with a peculiar luster now as they watched the preparations.
Dandrax gave him a swallow of whiskey. He coughed as it burned its way down, but it left him feeling a tiny bit better.
“You strike first, sir,” said Dandrax.
Glaves took a deep breath. Of course, that was it, the way out. This simple savage had miscalculated.
“Exactly, exactly, good point. Hit the fellow hard enough, and he won’t come back for more.” Glaves practiced a few swings with the pole. It was dreadfully solid yet flexible, a terrible thing to strike a man with.
Fish Eye stood forth. “It is time, come out to face me dog-faced chicken heart.” Fish Eye thrust out his chest and stood there waiting.
Glaves swung the rod a few more times then stepped up, gathered all his strength and lashed out. The thing whistled through the air and then with a solid smack it struck Fish Eye on the chest.
It was as if he’d struck a tree. Fish Eye barely blinked for a moment, then gave him a huge smile, raised a finger at him, and wagged it back and forth.
The Teetol erupted into roars of approval and laughter. Now they would see Fish Eye strike his blow. Fish Eye was famous in the entire region for his strength with the pole.
Fish Eye began taking a few trial swings with his own rod. Glaves’s throat went dry.
“Stand straight chicken-hearted dog that serves women. Now you will feel the rod of Fish Eye.”
Everyone was watching, even the general. His disgrace,
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