Thirst and weariness made it easy to obey. The water was cool, refreshing, and Dumarest swallowed it all. Relaxing he smelt the perfume of the valley, listened to its quiet humming. The susurration of insects and growing things, the rustle of an upper breeze which stirred the vegetation as if to a giant's breath. Peace enfolded him and a calm tranquility.
To the woman he said, "What are you?"
"Who am I? My name is Govinda."
A question he hadn't asked and he wondered at the poetry which had made him liken her to some elemental spirit. One who lived in a tree or a stream, a thing of legend come real, belonging to this place like the stream and the plants, the enigmatic face of the house which was barred like a castle.
"Govinda." The name held music to match her tone. "Just that?"
"Isn't it enough?"
"Of course, but others I've known here on Lychen have several names."
"Nobles. Those aspiring to rank and position. They add names to each other like pearls." Her shrug dismissed the importance of labels. "And you?" She smiled as he told her. "Earl Dumarest. I shall call you Earl. Were you born here on Lychen?"
"No more than you." He reached out and rested his fingers on her hand. The skin was soft and warm. "Which is your home world, Govinda?"
"I don't know." She met his eyes and answered the question she read there. "I had no real family and must have been passed around. I remember Yakimov. I did most of my growing there. After a while I moved to Kremer, then to Habralova then to other worlds. Finally I came here."
"To stay with Chenault?"
"He looks after me, yes." She withdrew her hand from beneath his fingers. "What do you want with him?"
"To talk."
"Just that?"
"Are you worried I'll hurt him? Is that why you tracked me and tried to knock me out?" Dumarest shook his head and smiled. "You said he looked after you. I think it's the other way around. But why should he need looking after at all?"
She said, "You want to talk. What about?"
"I'll tell him that."
"You can tell me and I'll tell him. Then, if he wants to see you, he will."
"And if he doesn't?" Dumarest let the question hang. "Surely he doesn't live here alone aside from you. There must be others."
"There are."
"In the house?"
"You talk too much, Earl, and say too little. Just what do you want with Chenault? To talk, you say, but how can I believe that?" She met his eyes, her own direct. "Why didn't you call ahead to arrange an interview? Why steal into the valley like a thief? How did you get here, anyway? I saw no raft."
"I walked."
"From where?"
Dumarest said, "That I'll tell Chenault when I meet him. And I'm going to stay here until I do. Tell him that and tell him we have mutual friends. Edelman Pryor for one. Tayu Shakira for another." He saw her face alter. "You know Shakira?"
"I–I'm not sure."
"Shakira of the circus of Chen Wei? You know him. Tell Chenault he sent me to him. Tell him now."
"I can't." She looked at the sunlight painting the mountain, the level of mounting darkness beneath it. The warning of approaching night which already filled the valley with dusty shadows. "Not yet but soon. I promise. You'll have to wait." Rising, she added. "If you want to leave do it now. If you see Tama and upset him you'll never leave this valley alive."
He came when the sun gilded the topmost peak of the mountain, turning the ice and snow which crusted it into an effulgent flame. Deceptive warmth. It would soon yield to the star-shot indifference of night. Dumarest heard the sigh as the great doors swung open, and rose from the bench to stand facing it and the figure which came toward him, silhouetted against the light filling the hall.
"Dumarest? Earl Dumarest?"
"Chenault?"
He was tall, broad, thick around the waist. A man old as a tree grows old, as gnarled, as strong. The lines engraved on his face gave him a hard, emotionless appearance, one belied by his sudden smile, teeth flashing white between drawn-back lips. His eyes in their sunken sockets held a bright awareness.
"I'm Chenault. The girl said we had mutual friends."
"That's right."
"Edelman Pryor, for one." Chenault tilted his head a little, the thick mass of gray hair higher than Dumarest's own. "Tell me about him."
"Old, dry, dusty. He deals or dealt in old books, maps, logs, statuettes, legends."
"Statuettes?"
"He gave me one. A small thing he'd had for years. You may have seen it; a woman, grossly emphasized, of a size you could hold in a hand. He said it was the depiction of some ancient goddess. Erce."
"Mother Earth," said Chenault. "Or the Earth Mother. You have it with you?"
"No. Pryor is minding it for me. I didn't want to lose it."
"Neither did he." Chenault nodded, understanding. "You are subtle, Earl, I like that. A gift accepted and returned in a manner devoid of offense. He gave you my name?"
"Yes."
"And Shakira?"
"Yes." Dumarest met the stare of the bright eyes, brighter now with reflected starlight. "Tayu Shakira of the circus of Chen Wei. He said you could help me."
"Tell me about him." Chenault listened as Dumarest obeyed. "Did you know him well?"
"No."
"But if he gave you my name-"
"No one knew him well," interrupted Dumarest. "But if you knew him at all, really knew him, you must know one thing about him. He is-unusual."
"In what way?" Chenault leaned forward, tense. "Tell me!"
Dumarest said, curtly, "He is not like other men. He has hands sprouting from his waist. Extra hands."
"The product of wild genes." Chenault sighed and relaxed. "You know him. Tayu must have trusted you to allow you to live with that knowledge. Later you must tell me about him and also how you managed to make Edelman Pryor feel so indebted to you that he gave you his most prized possession. Govinda was right; you are a most unusual man, Earl Dumarest. I am proud to greet you as my guest."
"It will be an honor to shelter beneath your roof."
"The old courtesies." Chenault smiled his pleasure. "It is good to hear the traditional words again. But I am remiss as a host. Govinda told me that you claimed to have walked here and must be fatigued. She was also curious as to where you came from. We are somewhat isolated here. The nearest village lies over a hundred miles to the west. The town-"
"I had a raft," said Dumarest, "but I didn't want to be followed. So I dumped it and came here on foot. From the other side of the mountain."
"Where water is scarce and game even scarcer. Well, you are here now, and can have all you need." Chenault gestured toward the open doors. "Shall we go in?"
The hall matched the barbaric splendor of the great doors; a place of vast dimensions, the roof peaked, the floor tessellated in garish diamonds of red and green. Colors repeated on the walls together with others of smoldering vividness set in a profusion of designs which Dumarest found vaguely familiar. As the doors closed behind them the air seemed to vibrate and the designs to blur, to seem to move as perspective changed, to freeze in a series of grotesque parodies.
Faces distorted by the painted masks peculiar to clowns.
A circus!
Dumarest halted as he recognized the vague familiarity for what it was. The floor, the hall, the peaked roof which depicted the summit of a tent, the designs themselves all reflections of a small and bizarre world. Now he could recognize the semblance of cages, the hint of watching beasts, the shape of a ring, the tiered seats, the hanging strands of a trapeze. An illusion created with paint and light and undoubted genius.
"You noticed." Chenault stood facing Dumarest his bright eyes direct. "What do you see?"
"A circus tent, of course. But-"
"Lopakhin created it. He felt the need and I permitted it. Tyner is a genius and, I suppose, I have a weakness for the grandiose. A happy combination and one which allows of such indulgences. Others also find it amusing and, at times, they come to stare and gawk and make their observations. Fools for the most part, but it does no harm to cater to their whims as long as they do not clash with my desires." Casually Chenault added, "Perhaps you have met those I'm talking about. Jaded dilettantes from the great Houses. Those of influence and position with too little to do and too much time in which to do it. At times they visit me and request permission to view my hall. Sometimes I accommodate them."