Naturally there was conflict between church and king. Both sought power, both claimed overlapping prerogatives, both insisted that theirs was the final authority. Some kings had had abbots murdered or imprisoned, some had gone weakly to Canossa. Morlach was in between, snarling at the Temple but not quite daring to lay violent hands on it.
«…I see.» Alak bowed his head. «Thank you, holy one.»
«I trust your questions are all answered?» The voice was dry.
«Well now… there are some matters of business—» Alak sat for a moment, weighing the other. Gulmanan seemed thoroughly honest; a direct bribe would only be an insult. But honesty is more malleable than one might think—
«Yes? Speak without fear, my cub. No words of yours shall pass these walls.»
Alak plunged into it: «As you know, my task is to remove Sir Varris to his own realm for punishment of many evil deeds.»
«He has claimed his cause was righteous,» said Gulmanan noncommittally.
«And so he believes. But in the name of that cause he was prepared to slay more folk than dwell on this entire world.»
«I wondered about that—»
Alak drew a long breath and then spoke fast. «The Temple is eternal, is it not? Of course. Then it must look centuries ahead. It must not let one man, whose merits are doubtful at best, stand in the way of an advancement which could mean saving thousands of souls.»
«I am old,» said Gulmanan in a parched tone. «My life has not been as cloistered as I might have wished. If you are proposing that you and I could work together to mutual advantage, say so.»
Alak made a sketchy explanation. «And the lands would be yours,» he finished.
«Also the trouble, my cub,» said the abbot. «We already have enough clashes with King Morlach.»
«This would not be a serious one. The law would be on our side.»
«Nevertheless, the honor of the Temple may not be compromised.»
«In plain words, you want more than I’ve offered.»
«Yes,» said Gulmanan bluntly.
Alak waited. Sweat studded his body. What could he do if an impossible demand was made?
The seamed blue face grew wistful. «Your race knows much,» said the abbot. «Our peasants wear out their lives struggling against a miserly soil and seasonal insect hordes. Are there ways to better their lot?»
«Is that all? Certainly there are. Helping folks to progress when they wish to is one of our chief policies. My… king would be only too glad to lend you some technicians—farmwrights?—and show you how.»
«Also… it is pure greed on my part. But sometimes at night, looking up at the stars, trying to understand what the traders have said—that this broad fair world of ours is but a mote spinning through vastness beyond comprehension—it has been an anguish in me that I do not know how that is.» Now it was Gulmanan who leaned forward and shivered. «Would it be possible to… to translate a few of your books on this science astronomic into Thunsban?»
Alak regarded himself as a case-hardened cynic. In the line of duty, he had often and cheerfully broken the most solemn oaths with an audible snap. But this was one promise he meant to keep though the sky fell down.
On the way back, he stopped at his flitter, where Drogs was hiding from a gape-mouthed citizenry, and put the Galmathian to work in the machine shop.
A human simply could not eat very much of this planet’s food; he would die in agony. Varris had taken care to have a food-synthesizer aboard his boat, and ate well that night of special dishes. He did not invite Alak to join him, and the Patrolman munched gloomily on what his service imagined to be an adequate, nutritious diet.
After supper, the nobles repaired to a central hall, with a fireplace at either end waging hopeless war on the evening chill, for serious drinking. Alak, ignored by most, sauntered through the crowd till he got to Varris. The fugitive was conversing with several barons; from his throne, King Morlach listened interestedly. Varris was increasing his prestige by explaining some principles of games theory which ought to guarantee success in the next war.
«…And thus, my gentles, it is not that one must seek a certain victory, for there is no certainty in battle, but must so distribute his forces as to have the greatest likelihood of winning—»
«Hogwash!» snapped Alak. The Thunsban phrase he used was more pungent.
Varris raised his brows. «Said you something?» he asked.
«I did.» Alak slouched forward, wearing his most insolent expression. «I said it is nonsense you speak.»
«You disagree, then, sir?» inquired a native.
«Not exactly,» said the Patrolman. «It is not worth disagreeing with so lunk-headed a swine as this baseborn Varris.»
His prey remained impassive. There was no tone in the voice: «I trust you will retract your statement, sir.»
«Yes, perhaps I should,» agreed Alak. «It was too mild. Actually, of course, as is obvious from a single glance at his bloated face, Sir Varris is a muckeating sack of lip-wagging flatulence whose habits I will not even try to describe since they would make a barnyard blush.»
Silence hit the hall. The flames roared up the chimneys. King Morlach scowled and breathed heavily, but could not legally interfere. His warriors dropped hands to their knives.
«What’s your purpose?» muttered Varris in Terran.
«Naturally,» said Alak in Thunsban, «if Sir Varris does not dispute my assertions, there is no argument.»
The Caldonian sighed. «I will dispute them on your body tomorrow morning,» he answered.
Alak’s foxy face broke into a delighted grin. «Do I understand that I am being challenged?» he asked.
«You do, sir. I invite you to a duel.»
«Very well.» Alak looked around. Every eye in the place was welded to him. «My lords, you bear witness that I have been summoned to fight Sir Varris. If I mistake me not, the choice of weapons and ground is mine.»
«Within the laws of single combat,» rumbled Morlach venomously. «None of your outworld sorceries.»
«Indeed not.» Alak bowed. «I choose to fight with my own swords, which are lighter than your claymores but I assure you, quite deadly if one does not wear armor. Sir Varris may, of course, have first choice of the pair. The duel will take place just outside the main gate of Grimmoch Abbey.»
There was nothing unusual about that. A badly wounded contestant could be taken into the monks, who were also the local surgeons. In such a case, he was allowed to recover after which a return engagement was fought. In the logical belief that enmities should not be permitted to fester, the Thunsban law said that no duel was officially over till one party had been killed. It was the use of light swords that caused interest.
«Very good,» said Varris in a frosty voice. He was taking it well; only Alak could guess what worries—what trap is being set?—lay behind those eyes. «At dawn tomorrow, then.»
«Absolutely not,» said Alak firmly. He never got up before noon if he could help it. «Am I to lose my good sleep on account of you? We will meet at the time of Third Sacrifice.» He bowed grandly. «Good night, my lord and gentles.»
Back in his apartment, he went through the window and, with the help of his small antigrav unit, over the wall and out to his boat. Varris might try to assassinate him as he slept.