“And what was its import?” asked Otto, puzzled.
“Trade goods, gifts, and such, of course,” said Julian, “to smooth your way among barbarians.”
“I am a barbarian,” said Otto.
“But you come in the rank of an imperial officer,” said Julian.
“It might be better, at first, if they did not know that,” said Otto.
“You will need gifts, to interest them, to make yourself welcome,” said Julian.
“No,” said Otto.
Behind them men were hurrying a small number of sheep through the second hatch. Following them were other men, bringing four pairs of goats.
Within the hatch a mariner was hastening them forward, with gestures.
Julian regarded him, irritably.
“I am not an ambassador, not a merchant,” said Otto.
“What then are you?” asked Julian.
“One who is chieftain of the Wolfungs,” said Otto, “one who was lifted upon shields.”
“Without gifts, you will not be accepted,” said Julian.
“The time for gifts,” said Otto, “is after one has been accepted.”
“You do not understand barbarians,” said Julian.
“It is you, my friend,” said Otto, “who do not understand such folk.”
At this point the second warning sounded.
Above their level, at the crew and passenger entryway, to the level of which had been wheeled a steel, stepped gangway, an officer was waiting.
He looked down at Julian.
“We are betrayed,” said Julian. “We have been deprived of the goods essential to the success of our mission. Iaachus, or someone at court, I fear, has delayed or diverted them.”
“If you think them important, bring them with you, when you follow me,” said Otto.
“You must assuredly wait for me,” said Julian, “at Venitzia.”
“No,” said Otto.
“Then all is lost,” said Julian, dismally.
“I do not want the goods,” said Otto.
“Surely you understand they would be of value, at least eventually,” said Julian.
“Perhaps,” admitted Otto, shrugging.
“I would know who has betrayed us,” said Julian. “Surely it must be Iaachus,” he said, angrily.
“Iaachus supported your mission,” said Otto.
“It seemed so,” said Julian.
“It is time to board,” said a mariner. “The third signal will be sounded any moment.”
“Where is the chief supply officer?” cried Julian.
A technician hurried past, carrying loops of insulated cable over his shoulder. This cable had been detached from a socket in the ship. Communication with the ship was now, substantially, from the port tower, not from the level of the quay.
“Time to board, sir,” said the mariner, urgently.
“Without the goods we are lost,” said Julian.
“No,” said Otto.
“Hurry!” said the mariner.
“Farewell, my friend,” said Julian, angrily, grasping Otto’s hand.
“Dismiss from your mind the dross of goods,” said Otto. “Where I go they are not the coin.”
“And what, where you go, do you take to be the coin?” inquired Julian.
“Steel,” said Otto.
“My poor, naive, simple, dear friend,” said Julian.
“You would buy allies?” asked Otto.
“Yes,” said Julian. “It is the way of the empire.”
“I had thought that civilitas was the way of the empire,” said Otto.
“One buys barbarians,” said Julian.
“It is only slaves who may be purchased,” said Otto. There was suddenly on the quay, several yards away, from behind piled crates, rearing stacks of boxes, assemblages of large machinery, a wild hooting, and cries of pleasure, numerous, boisterous, masculine acclamatory shouts.
Julian looked up, wildly.
A senior officer approached him.
Behind him was the ensign whom Julian had dispatched in search of the chief supply officer.
“I am Lysis,” said the senior officer, “chief officer in charge of supply, the Narcona.”
He and Julian exchanged salutes.
Julian had saluted first, as his own rank, in the imperial navy, the protocol of which he was scrupulous to respect, was inferior to that of the supply officer.
The supply officer turned about and began, losing no time, to wave several men behind him toward the still-open second hatch. They bore burdens of diverse size and weight. Though the nature of the goods was somewhat obscured by their packaging, the wrapping and boxings, and such, we may conjecture, and affirm with confidence, given what later became clear, their natures, which ranged from the common and ordinary, such as nails, wire and copper, to the remarkable, and even precious, such as emeralds, ivory and gold.
“These are the goods of the second manifest,” said Lysis, quietly.
“They are late,” said Julian.
“No,” said the officer. “On the instructions of one in high position, they were to be delivered at the last moment, in the interests of security, before inquiries could be made, before it would be possible to halt their embarkation.”
“One in a position of authority is brilliant,” said Julian. “I was wrong to suspect him,” said Julian to Otto.
“It is good to know on whom one may depend,” said Otto.
The goods were now moving past them.
“The manifest has been checked,” said the supply officer.
“To be sure,” said Julian, “there is not time to check it now.”
For an instant he seemed troubled.
“It is complete, milord,” the officer assured him. “I went over it in the warehouse this morning, and it has been kept under seal, and guard, since then.”
“Good,” said Julian.
No need for concern was there then.
“Be careful there,” called the ensign, at the officer’s side, as men fought to keep their grip on a bale of cloths. The heavy canvas cover of the baled cloths gave no clue as to the richness of the stuffs inside, brocades and velvets, and sheens of golden silk, materials fit to bedeck the consorts of chieftains.
Other men struggled to carry, upon their shoulders, what, wrapped in burlap, appeared to be metal ingots. Many were of iron but there were, too, among them, concealed, ingots of gold, from which rings might be formed, fine rings, for the arm and wrist.
Groups of men, four men in each group, bent under the weight of single tusks of the Thalasian torodont.
Boxes passed, which contained plates of copper, and sacks of silver and gold coins. In other boxes there rattled cameos, and medallions, bearing the visage of the emperor, represented as a bearded, powerful man.
“Hurry, hurry!” called a mariner.
Bundles of furs, and skins, were carried by, even those of the golden vi-cat, though the golden fur was rolled to the inside, that the wealth within might be well concealed.
Spices, and condiments, and many other foodstuffs, too, were hastily embarked.
“I smell the pepper of Askalan,” marveled a man.
“Are you sure?” asked another.
“Yes, I smelled it once in a bazaar on Rachis II,” he was informed.
It was an exotic trade good, doubtless little known on Tangara.
The scent came through the pores of the box of fernwood in which it lay.
Too, there were many other spices, and such, though well sealed, from various worlds, such as nutmegs, gingers, cinnamons, marjorams, frostfruit peel, coriander, thyme, extract of les, cream of kalot, essence of almond, rosemary, mint, siba, chives, mustard, whole cloves, ground cloves, curry powder, mixed herbs, flakes of hineen, tel sauce, minced basbas stalk, sage, paprika, boiled arla leaves, seed of the pinnate fennis and vanilla.