Anderson & Dickson Hokas Pokas

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a task, though nobody seemed in a hurry about it. Voices chattered, laughed, swore,
shouted, sang snatches of song; wooden shoes thumped on stones.
Mishka dismissed his troopers at the entrance to the keep and himself conducted
Charlie, Hector, and Toreg inside. The walls of an entry room bore tapestries and hunting
trophies. The floor was carpeted with broad-leaved plants, whose sweetness relieved the
reek of smoke from a gigantic feasting chamber where an ox-sized carcass was roasting.
By the dim interior light, Mishka pointed to a spiral staircase off the entry. "Follow
that, if it please you."
At the fourth-floor landing, he received the salutes of two guards and opened the
door "Come," he said, "and meet my lord Dzenko."
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5
The Redheaded
League
Within, the stone of a fair sized room was relieved by rugs and by plastered walls
whose frescoes depicted battle scenes. The scarlet pigment used for blood did much to
brighten things, for otherwise there was only a shaft of sunlight through a narrow
window. A few carved chairs were placed at irregular intervals. In one of them, sat a
gaunt middle-aged New Lemurian, his face deeply lined, the blue of his crest sprinkled
with gray. He wore a flowing rainbow-striped robe and silver necklace, and his whiskers
were gilded.
Mishka clicked heels. "Lord Dzenko, here have brought you, unbeknownst to others
as you bade, the fiery-topped person who may be the Deliverer of the Prophecy. Also, for
good measure, his guide my lord will remember Toreg and, er "
"Sir Hector MacGregor," said Charlie in haste, before the Hoka could declare
himself a commoner. It might be protection against indignities.
Hector was quick to pick up the cue. "Aye," he declaimed, striking a pose, "an
ancestor o' mine was ennobled after the Battle o' Otterburn. Let me tell ye. `It fell aboot
the Lammas tide, when the muir-men win their hay ' "
Charlie shushed him, "My name is Charles Edward Stuart. My father is captain of
the ship which lately flew in from the stars. He expects me back soon."
Dzenko smiled. "I trust we can oblige him. Pity that the strange law of your folk or
perhaps their weakness binds him from coming after you in force."
Charlie gulped. Living so close to the League's enclave, this baron must be more
sophisticated about it than most.
"But do be at ease," Dzenko urged. "My only wish is to welcome you, the Prince of
the Prophecy, our rescuer from oppression."
"Huh?" exploded from Toreg. "But, but, Lord him? Why, he's not even one of our
kind!"
"Does the Prophecy anywhere say he must be?" Dzenko purred. "Indeed, have you
ever heard of a dweller on our world who has red hair?"
"N-no, Lord," Toreg admitted. Excitement seized him. "Could it really be? Could
Olaghi in truth be overthrown, and I get my rightful job back?"
"The councils of the mighty are not for common ears," Dzenko said. "You may go,
Toreg, and greet your old comrades." The guide bowed and rushed out. "You stay,
Mishka," continued the baron. The gigantic guardsman placed himself at parade rest in a
corner.
"You know I'm nothing of the sort," Charlie protested. "This is only a, a
coincidence."
"Conceivably. Though a wise saw has it that `Chance is the hand of heaven which
hauls us.' " Dzenko rose, to take the human's arm in a confidential manner and lead him
across the room. "Upon receiving the news, I, ah, did feel it my duty to investigate
further. If nothing else, your presence might cause unrest among the populace."
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"Maybe," Charlie admitted. "I suppose I'd better go straight back to the compound."
Dzenko's grasp tightened on his elbow. "On the other hand, perhaps you had better
not."
To and fro they paced. Hector stumped behind them. "See you," Dzenko went on,
low-voiced, "I say no word against our beloved King Olaghi. He would demand my head
on a pikeshaft did I call him aught but a good ruler. Yet is any ruler ever as good as he
might be? There are even some who call him a tyrant. Mind you, I say this not myself,
but some do. When rumors start flying, a prudent man wants to know whether or not they
hold the truth, so he can advise the people who are dependent on him. Now naturally, I
don't imagine there's aught to this talk about your being the young Prince who'll perform
the Five Feats and dethrone the wicked ruler of legend, but still, at the same time "
He talked in that vein for several minutes. Charlie got the impression he was really
stalling. Meanwhile, a clamor grew below them, shouts, running feet, occasional blasts
on the crooked Talyinan trumpets.
"Mishka!" said Dzenko at last. "See what that noise is about and shut them up."
Though sharply spoken, the order had a false sound in Charlie's ears, as if rehearsed
well in advance. But the guardsman clattered out at once and down the stone steps.
"The commoners are quite impetuous, you know." The baron sighed. "Get them
overheated, and bloodshed is apt to follow."
Mishka reappeared, hustling Toreg along in front of him. The racket from below [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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