"You did not seem such, moments ago,” mused Cabot.
"Perhaps I was acting,” said Peisistratus.
"I will trust you,” said Cabot.
"I am a skilled liar,” said Peisistratus.
"I will trust you,” said Cabot.
"And thus are men easily betrayed,” said Peisistratus.
"Or ennobled,” said Cabot.
"I think you are a fool,” said Peisistratus.
"The matter is hopeless?” asked Cabot.
"Certainly,” said Peisistratus.
"Leonidas, at Thermopylae,” said Cabot.
"I do not understand,” said Peisistratus.
"Hesius at the Pass of Boduin,” said Cabot.
"Ah,” said Peisistratus. “I see!"
These allusions may be unintelligible to the reader. They are not found in the lexicon.
"You can take your ships and escape,” said Cabot.
"No,” said Peisistratus. “When the fleet departed the locks were sealed."
"Will you join me then at Thermopylae?” asked Cabot.
"At Boduin,” smiled Peisistratus.
"What of your men?” inquired Cabot.
"We are with you, Captain!” cried a man.
"And I, and I!” cried a hundred others, clustered about.
"You are all fools!” called Peisistratus.
"Dispatch them, on a hundred errands!” said Cabot.
"It will be done,” said Peisistratus. “Decius! Torquatus! Henrius! Eteocles! Septimus! Tytaios! Elrik! Sarpedon!"
Men crowded forward.
"And what of you?” said Peisistratus.
"I must seek out Grendel, for he may need me,” said Cabot. “And I must warn Lord Arcesilaus, if there is still time!"
"Lord Arcesilaus will be warned by another,” said Peisistratus, “for you might be easily recognized."
"As you will,” said Cabot.
"Grendel may have been taken by now,” said Peisistratus.
"Possibly,” said Cabot.
"Perhaps he had the presence of mind to strangle the little blonde beast before she could speak,” said Peisistratus.
"He would not touch her,” said Cabot. “He would die for her."
"Better to die for a urt,” said Peisistratus.
"She is beautiful,” said Cabot.
"Let her be dipped in acid,” said Peisistratus. “She will be less beautiful then."
"I think he is still at large,” said Cabot.
"After two days?"
"If he were not, would not guards have come to the cylinder by now?"
"Probably,” said Peisistratus.
"I think so,” said Cabot. “Certainly his small, well-formed companion, the small, sleek beast of which he is so unconscionably fond, has the coin of advantage and survival well in hand, information of importance to Agamemnon, and would spend it instantly to procure not only her life but his favor."
"By now,” said Peisistratus, “she may be heaped with jewels and be his advisor."
"Yes,” said Cabot, “with her leash attached to the arm of the throne."
"But the guards have not yet come."
"No."
"Where will you seek Grendel?” asked Peisistratus.
"Where I think he, as human, will go,” said Cabot, “a place unfamiliar to Kurii, and one dreaded by them."
"In their own world?"
"Yes,” said Cabot. “There is such a place."
"We know little now,” said Peisistratus. “It may even be dangerous to leave the cylinder.” He then turned to a subordinate. “Reconnoiter, with care,” he said. “If all seems clear, go to the world, inquire, learn of matters, return, report."
"Yes, Captain,” said the man and left for the shuttle lock.
"Agamemnon may be biding his time,” said Peisistratus to Cabot. “It may amuse him to wait, even for a holiday or festival, to collect and display the conspirators."
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"Do not go yet!” said Peisistratus.
"I must,” said Cabot.
"It is unwise,” said Peisistratus. “Wait, for intelligence."
"There may be no time,” said Cabot.
"Torus,” said Peisistratus.
This was the lieutenant of Peisistratus, a burly fellow. It was he who had been dispatched earlier, shortly after Cabot's arrival in the cylinder, for the strings of coins, Cabot's winnings from the arena, which had once been strung loosely about the throat of an unclaimed cylinder slave, who, however unworthy, had been permitted to pose and dance for Cabot, and even to kneel humbly before him and offer him paga, in a manner appropriate to her bondage. This fellow, Torus, had been standing nearby for some time. He had the strings of coins looped over his left forearm.
Peisistratus took the coins and handed them, on their strings, to Cabot.
"Of what good are these?” asked Cabot.
"I did not steal them,” said Peisistratus. “I kept them for you. They are yours."
"Better one sword,” said Cabot.
"We will provide one if you wish,” said Peisistratus. “But I think it will be safer for you to be unarmed."
"How so?"
"An unidentified armed human might be slain on sight."
"I wonder,” said Cabot, “if you are the human of Agamemnon."
"You do not know,” said Peisistratus.
"Very well,” said Cabot. “I will carry no blade."
"It was your mistake, friend Cabot,” said Peisistratus, “to have concerned yourself with the affairs of Kurii."
"It seems,” said Cabot, “they first concerned themselves with mine."
"Take the coins,” said Peisistratus. “They are yours, and the silver is rare here and valued by Kurii, for ornaments, and such."
"They may be of use?"
"More so than a sword, I suspect,” said Peisistratus.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot, thrusting the coins and strings into his pouch.
"The gates of many cities have been unlocked with a key of silver,” smiled Peisistratus.
This is, one gathers, a saying. Its origin is obscure. It may be from the “Field Diaries,” an anonymous Gorean publication, often attributed to Carl Commenius, he of Argentum. It has also been attributed to Dietrich of Tarnburg, Lurius of Jad, and even, interestingly, to Marlenus of Ar. One suspects that its actual origin is lost. It, or its variations, might emerge, naturally enough, one supposes, from reflection upon a variety of historical instances.
"I wish you well,” said Cabot.
"You extend your hand?"
"But you do not take it,” observed Cabot.
The simultaneous grasping of hands, right to right, is a feature of certain Earth cultures, as it is of some Kur cultures. As most humans, and Kurii, favor the right hand, this grasping of hands is a token of respect or friendship, each surrendering, so to speak, the weapon hand to the other.
"Stay with us, until we have word of the outside,” advised Peisistratus.
"No,” said Cabot.
"Then,” said Peisistratus, “I extend my hand, and wish you well."
Each then took the hand of the other, firmly.
Cabot turned to go.
"Wait,” said Peisistratus.
Cabot hesitated.
"What of the slave?” asked Peisistratus.
The slave at their feet, her head to the floor, her wrists bound together, behind her back, began to tremble, and sob, but dared not change position.
"She?” said Cabot.
"Surely,” said Peisistratus. With his bootlike sandal he thrust her from her knees to her side on the flooring.
"I leave her,” said Cabot.
"Please, no, Master!” she cried.
"She spoke,” observed Peisistratus.
"I have given her permission to speak,” said Cabot, “but a permission rescindable by my will, and one not to be abused."
"You are permissive with a mere slave,” said Peisistratus.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"I throw her in, with the coins,” said Peisistratus.
"I do not want her,” said Cabot.
"Please want me, Master!” she wept.
"We have kept her a virgin for you,” said Peisistratus, “and have even had a collar prepared."