murdering Captain Kelmz.’
‘You don’t trust me,’ Servan mourned. ‘Come on, leave that, the fem will do the cleaning up; God’s own Freaking Son, what do you think I keep her for, her beauty? Let’s walk a bit. I’ve brought some beer.’
They strolled toward Bayo, facing the direction from which pursuit would come if their game had been discovered. Servan had thought several times that afternoon of how it would be to walk right into Bajerman and a pack of Penneltons; while Eykar, no doubt, had been worrying about Kelmz or thinking of the fem.
‘Tell me about Endpath,’ he said.
‘It was an uncluttered life,’ Eykar said. Living there had clearly not affected his reticence.
‘You seem to have kept fit.’ Servan saw, with a flash of heat, Eykar’s gaunt frame as he had seen it in the Bayo showers, spare and white and hard as marble. Eykar always had fought what he regarded as the weakness of his body with a self-discipline that would have killed a weak man.
‘Endpath duties are light,’ Eykar said, with a tinge of iron. ‘I had time to spend.’
‘How?’ Servan pressed.
‘Servan, you must create Endpath sometimes for your dream clients. I’m sure you’d do it well. Why cramp your style with reality?’
‘Well, let’s consider the future, then.’ Servan swung the jug as he walked, liking the sloshing weight of it. ‘I must say I think your goal is rather limited. There are big things to be done in the Holdfast by young men who aren’t cowed by the cloth-cocks and their Rovers. For instance, you and I could make something of the Juniors’ resentments. If we were smart enough and fast enough we could turn the Holdfast upside down to our own profit. You saw how the Chesters took to you back on the ferry.’
Eykar said contemptuously, ‘I saw how easily you maneuvered them, yes. But it was to you and Kelmz that they responded, not to me.’
‘Oh, they could learn to love you,’ Servan smiled.
‘I’m no leader,’ Eykar said. ‘And you —’
‘I have potential,’ Servan protested in a pained tone. ‘As for yourself, Eykar, you’re a weightier man than you give yourself credit for. Look what happened when the Board sent you off to Endpath to kill and die. If I know you at all, you turned the whole thing into an exercise in personal austerity.’
‘I did my poor best,’ Eykar replied, ‘lacking your inventiveness and your talent for being entertained.’
Servan sighed. ‘You think of yourself as weak, but if you were any stronger you would punch holes in the ground with every step you take. What you decide to do, you do; or what in the coldest quarter of the moon am I doing out here with you now, listening to the lavers grow?’
‘Amusing yourself, as always,’ Eykar said, with his rasping laugh. ‘I did worry about you those first months at Endpath, whether you were amusing yourself, or were able to; needlessly, of course.’
‘Needlessly! You’re extraordinary. Those old Hemaway turds meant to burn me, did you know that?’ Servan began to work the stopper free from the neck of the jug.
‘I wasn’t kept informed,’ Eykar said caustically. ‘As soon as I’d put you into their care, the Teachers locked me into iso. Days later, they sent me to Endpath. I had no chance to ask questions.’
The stopper came loose. Servan would have put it into the pocket of his shirt, but the Bayo fems had neglected to provide a pocket, they themselves having no pockets and nothing to keep in them. He tossed the stopper in his hand, thinking about those Boyhouse days. They strolled on through the evening without speaking for a while.
In the Boyhouse, Servan had quickly acquired a reputation as a bully, a sly heckler of the Teachers and a thief; in fact, he had been fighting boredom, nothing more. Then Eykar had been placed in his class, and the situation had changed. Servan had grown ambitious. He had begun using his mind, to the astonishment (and discomfiture) of his Teachers.
‘You don’t trust me,’ Servan mourned. ‘Come on, leave that, the fem will do the cleaning up; God’s own Freaking Son, what do you think I keep her for, her beauty? Let’s walk a bit. I’ve brought some beer.’
They strolled toward Bayo, facing the direction from which pursuit would come if their game had been discovered. Servan had thought several times that afternoon of how it would be to walk right into Bajerman and a pack of Penneltons; while Eykar, no doubt, had been worrying about Kelmz or thinking of the fem.
‘Tell me about Endpath,’ he said.
‘It was an uncluttered life,’ Eykar said. Living there had clearly not affected his reticence.
‘You seem to have kept fit.’ Servan saw, with a flash of heat, Eykar’s gaunt frame as he had seen it in the Bayo showers, spare and white and hard as marble. Eykar always had fought what he regarded as the weakness of his body with a self-discipline that would have killed a weak man.
‘Endpath duties are light,’ Eykar said, with a tinge of iron. ‘I had time to spend.’
‘How?’ Servan pressed.
‘Servan, you must create Endpath sometimes for your dream clients. I’m sure you’d do it well. Why cramp your style with reality?’
‘Well, let’s consider the future, then.’ Servan swung the jug as he walked, liking the sloshing weight of it. ‘I must say I think your goal is rather limited. There are big things to be done in the Holdfast by young men who aren’t cowed by the cloth-cocks and their Rovers. For instance, you and I could make something of the Juniors’ resentments. If we were smart enough and fast enough we could turn the Holdfast upside down to our own profit. You saw how the Chesters took to you back on the ferry.’
Eykar said contemptuously, ‘I saw how easily you maneuvered them, yes. But it was to you and Kelmz that they responded, not to me.’
‘Oh, they could learn to love you,’ Servan smiled.
‘I’m no leader,’ Eykar said. ‘And you —’
‘I have potential,’ Servan protested in a pained tone. ‘As for yourself, Eykar, you’re a weightier man than you give yourself credit for. Look what happened when the Board sent you off to Endpath to kill and die. If I know you at all, you turned the whole thing into an exercise in personal austerity.’
‘I did my poor best,’ Eykar replied, ‘lacking your inventiveness and your talent for being entertained.’
Servan sighed. ‘You think of yourself as weak, but if you were any stronger you would punch holes in the ground with every step you take. What you decide to do, you do; or what in the coldest quarter of the moon am I doing out here with you now, listening to the lavers grow?’
‘Amusing yourself, as always,’ Eykar said, with his rasping laugh. ‘I did worry about you those first months at Endpath, whether you were amusing yourself, or were able to; needlessly, of course.’
‘Needlessly! You’re extraordinary. Those old Hemaway turds meant to burn me, did you know that?’ Servan began to work the stopper free from the neck of the jug.
‘I wasn’t kept informed,’ Eykar said caustically. ‘As soon as I’d put you into their care, the Teachers locked me into iso. Days later, they sent me to Endpath. I had no chance to ask questions.’
The stopper came loose. Servan would have put it into the pocket of his shirt, but the Bayo fems had neglected to provide a pocket, they themselves having no pockets and nothing to keep in them. He tossed the stopper in his hand, thinking about those Boyhouse days. They strolled on through the evening without speaking for a while.
In the Boyhouse, Servan had quickly acquired a reputation as a bully, a sly heckler of the Teachers and a thief; in fact, he had been fighting boredom, nothing more. Then Eykar had been placed in his class, and the situation had changed. Servan had grown ambitious. He had begun using his mind, to the astonishment (and discomfiture) of his Teachers.
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