have served in ships before?”
“No. But I can learn.”
Gently, Pompino said: “I am more in need of archers.”
“I can shoot—”
“You do not carry a bow.”
“That is true. Try me.”
Pompino leaned a little toward me and spoke softly.
“I like his style, the blowhard. Your thought?”
“If you can get him cheap, hire him. I judge he can fight. Although he may wish to remove that mail and don leather.”
Now that the enormous conflict between the Empire of Hamal and what seemed to be the rest of Paz was over, there were many unemployed fighting men. They sought employment where they could. To be tazll, unemployed, was unpleasant.
Eventually we hired on twenty-five paktuns. In fact, only five were real paktuns, that is, mercenaries elected by their peers to wear the silver mortilhead, the pakmort, at their throat. This marked them as renowned fighters. We did not sign on a single hyrpaktun, who could wear the golden pakzhan at throat or on shoulder knot. But, as I have said, in these latter days almost any mercenary, if he — or she — was not an obvious youngster, a coy, tended to be called a paktun.
Of the twenty-five, fifteen were apim and ten were diffs.
Smells of cooking made all our mouths water, and everybody went off to their various quarters to eat. The aft staterooms were partitioned off so that, as Pompino said, we could indulge in privacy when we wished. My cabin was small, clean, smelling of sweet ibroi, and would serve admirably. I own I craved for the evening to arrive and the tide, and then we would be off. A tug, a low many-oared vessel, came to haul us out past the boom. I remarked on this extravagance.
“Yes,” said Pompino. “It is a waste of gold pieces when you have stout arms and backs in your crew. But it keeps the harbor master happy — he is a distant cousin of my wife’s — and the crew feel I intend to look after them.”
With the feel of the ship under me, the sky darkening above and scintillating with the myriad stars of Kregen, I felt a tremendous liberating gust of spiritual well-being. We were off. Off to start the Jikai against the Leem Lovers.
There were many other undertakings I might be about in Kregen right now; but this was a task set to my hands. Apart from Delia and my family and friends, it seemed to me I did not do wrong in thus setting my face toward this adventure.
Chapter ten
Decision at the Mermaid’s Ankle
No compunction troubled me in allowing Pompino the Iarvin to outfit me in style. We were kregoinye. When it came to push of pike we shared our possessions, and made the best of it. At the moment, Pompino held the money and goods; ergo, he outfitted me.
I wore a decent blue tunic, and grey trousers cut to the knee. I went barefoot. I had a red scarf tied around my head. I swung a thraxter from a broad leather belt. If we got into a fight I would have the choice of Pompino’s armory to arm and armor myself.
The days passed sailing along the coast. We sighted a few other vessels, and all was well.
Tuscurs Maiden
rolled along, breasting the swell with a deal of white smother from her forefoot. The breezes blew and the weather remained fine. To keep from idleness was not difficult.
Pompino himself supervised the handling of the mercenaries, the marine component of the ship’s complement.
Captain Linson, the master, kept his seamen well in order. They were a bright bunch, and the sails went out and came in in a handy fashion.
The Ship-Hikdar, the first officer, knew his duties and played a mean game of Jikaida. He did not drink. He had a tongue that could cut, in a figurative sense, as well as the Whip of any Sister of the Rose. The Ship-Deldar, the Bosun, an enormous man with an enormous red beard and enormous belly, rejoiced under the name of Chandarlie the Gut. The Ship-Hikdar, Naghan Pelamoin, ran a taut ship, and the Ship-Deldar used his rattan rarely.
Tuscurs Maiden
was, I judged, as happy a ship as one might expect to find, given
“No. But I can learn.”
Gently, Pompino said: “I am more in need of archers.”
“I can shoot—”
“You do not carry a bow.”
“That is true. Try me.”
Pompino leaned a little toward me and spoke softly.
“I like his style, the blowhard. Your thought?”
“If you can get him cheap, hire him. I judge he can fight. Although he may wish to remove that mail and don leather.”
Now that the enormous conflict between the Empire of Hamal and what seemed to be the rest of Paz was over, there were many unemployed fighting men. They sought employment where they could. To be tazll, unemployed, was unpleasant.
Eventually we hired on twenty-five paktuns. In fact, only five were real paktuns, that is, mercenaries elected by their peers to wear the silver mortilhead, the pakmort, at their throat. This marked them as renowned fighters. We did not sign on a single hyrpaktun, who could wear the golden pakzhan at throat or on shoulder knot. But, as I have said, in these latter days almost any mercenary, if he — or she — was not an obvious youngster, a coy, tended to be called a paktun.
Of the twenty-five, fifteen were apim and ten were diffs.
Smells of cooking made all our mouths water, and everybody went off to their various quarters to eat. The aft staterooms were partitioned off so that, as Pompino said, we could indulge in privacy when we wished. My cabin was small, clean, smelling of sweet ibroi, and would serve admirably. I own I craved for the evening to arrive and the tide, and then we would be off. A tug, a low many-oared vessel, came to haul us out past the boom. I remarked on this extravagance.
“Yes,” said Pompino. “It is a waste of gold pieces when you have stout arms and backs in your crew. But it keeps the harbor master happy — he is a distant cousin of my wife’s — and the crew feel I intend to look after them.”
With the feel of the ship under me, the sky darkening above and scintillating with the myriad stars of Kregen, I felt a tremendous liberating gust of spiritual well-being. We were off. Off to start the Jikai against the Leem Lovers.
There were many other undertakings I might be about in Kregen right now; but this was a task set to my hands. Apart from Delia and my family and friends, it seemed to me I did not do wrong in thus setting my face toward this adventure.
Chapter ten
Decision at the Mermaid’s Ankle
No compunction troubled me in allowing Pompino the Iarvin to outfit me in style. We were kregoinye. When it came to push of pike we shared our possessions, and made the best of it. At the moment, Pompino held the money and goods; ergo, he outfitted me.
I wore a decent blue tunic, and grey trousers cut to the knee. I went barefoot. I had a red scarf tied around my head. I swung a thraxter from a broad leather belt. If we got into a fight I would have the choice of Pompino’s armory to arm and armor myself.
The days passed sailing along the coast. We sighted a few other vessels, and all was well.
Tuscurs Maiden
rolled along, breasting the swell with a deal of white smother from her forefoot. The breezes blew and the weather remained fine. To keep from idleness was not difficult.
Pompino himself supervised the handling of the mercenaries, the marine component of the ship’s complement.
Captain Linson, the master, kept his seamen well in order. They were a bright bunch, and the sails went out and came in in a handy fashion.
The Ship-Hikdar, the first officer, knew his duties and played a mean game of Jikaida. He did not drink. He had a tongue that could cut, in a figurative sense, as well as the Whip of any Sister of the Rose. The Ship-Deldar, the Bosun, an enormous man with an enormous red beard and enormous belly, rejoiced under the name of Chandarlie the Gut. The Ship-Hikdar, Naghan Pelamoin, ran a taut ship, and the Ship-Deldar used his rattan rarely.
Tuscurs Maiden
was, I judged, as happy a ship as one might expect to find, given
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