Reith, dropping easily into Gozashtandou, said: "I mind me of a game called 'poker.' "
"The word is familiar," said Gilan; "but methought it denoted an implement wherewith one manipulates a fire."
"It means that, also," said Reith. "As Your Altitude has doubtless observed, in my language one word may serve for several meanings. But as to poker: for a successful game one needs at least three players and a number of tokens, called 'chips.' These are disks of some common material, like unto coins but of little value. If a few hundred of your smallest coins be available ..."
The Dasht spoke to one of his guards: "Fetch me a sack of arzuma from the Treasurer's office. Here's my seal ring to serve as authorization; be sure you return it with the coins! Herg, get us another chair! You shall play, also."
"Me, my lord?" said the jailer hesitantly.
"Aye, ye yourself. In a Terran game, there's no distinction of rank."
When the guard returned with a bag full of little bronze coins—the pennies of Gozashtand—he found Reith, the Dasht, and Herg sitting around the table, while Reith explained the values of the combinations of cards.
"I fear I be confused, my lord," said Herg. "I know not these little Terran symbols for numbers."
"You can count, can you not?" barked the Dasht.
"Then count these spots, which Master Reith calls hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs, albeit they look like no hearts, shovels, gems, or cudgels that mine eyes have seen."
"I shall deal first, Your Altitude," said Reith. "Pray, hold your cards up, thus, so no other player can get a look at them ..."
Hours later, the Dasht rose. "My thanks, Mr. Reith," he said in English. "I fear I've been so engrossed in play that I forgot the dinner hour. Permit me to take your deck of cards with me; I have an idea for the evening's entertainment. Until tomorrow, then!"
"But, my lord!" exclaimed Reith. "How about letting me out—"
Heedless, the Dasht plunged out the cell door, slammed the bars shut, and strode away. Although he knew Gilan to be highly intelligent despite his eccentricities, Reith had been surprised by the speed with which the noble had mastered the game. Intelligence and a streak of zanyism, thought Reith, made a dangerous combination.
Later, Herg entered the cell to remove the remains of Reith's dinner. The jailer said: " 'Tis well, Master Reef, that we played but for arzuma, and they furnished by the Treasury. Otherwise the Dasht had reduced me to beggary."
Reith smiled. "You had done better, had you called his bluff betimes to keep him honest."
"Aye, that I once attempted, and marked how displeased he was. We his servants must needs attend to's moods. He liked it not when ye, as ye say, 'called' him."
The following afternoon, Herg unlocked the door and announced: "Ye are free, Master Reef! The Dasht hath sent word to enlarge you instanter. Ye shall, he saith, enjoy all the luxe his palace can afford."
Reith found Timásh patiently waiting before the palace, having taken a room locally for nights. Reith moved into the Dasht's guest suite. Hiding his resentment at the treatment accorded him, Reith dined with the Dasht and the weather-beaten Sir Bobir, commander of the detachment to be sent to Zinjaban.
Sir Bobir was full of questions about the part his five hundred knights were to play. "For look you, Master Reef. If we have five hundred of our men and five hundred Mikardanduma galloping about pretending to fight a battle, someone amongst the Mikardanduma will surely try to avenge the battle of Meozid by smiting the head from one of our folk. Then there'd be a general melee, with many slain and belike a war; albeit neither government lusts for such a brabble, with the Qaathian menace looming over all."
"We've thought of that," said Reith, speaking Gozashtandou like the others. "The motion-picture folk will furnish each warrior with a wooden sword covered with silver paint. Thus we hope to avoid injuries, save perhaps a few bruises."
"Bobir!" said the Dasht, beaming in a new uniform of bleached shaihan wool embellished with gold lace. "You are commanded to wait upon us here this even. I wish to teach you the fascinating game that Master Reith hath shown me. 'Tis called 'poker' in his Terran tongue. Last night I trounced the Treasurer and my secretary. For tonight, I've enlisted the Chamberlain. With you and the Earthman, we shall be four. And oh, ere I forget!" The Dasht pulled a small scroll from his sleeve. "Down on your knees, Master Reith! Behold your patent of knighthood!"
The Dasht slapped Reith's face with the scroll, then said, "Rise, Sir Fergus!" He seized Reith in a bear hug and kissed him on both cheeks. Reith blinked too late to keep his eye from being scrubbed by the boar's-tusk mustache.
"Your knighthood is a small token of my appreciation for introducing me to so enthralling a game," said Gilan. "It hath military value as well, in case we should ever be compelled to draw our shining sword. Feint, bluff, and deception are necessary parts of the military art. I knew at first sight that you were one whose acquaintance would please me. By Qondyor's iron yard, I am never wrong in my judgment of men, whether Terran or human!"
"I thank Your Altitude," said Reith, wiping a tear from his assaulted eye. "By the way, my lord, you mentioned the Reverend Trask. How goes their enterprise?"
"I know not," snapped the Dasht. "They were expelled from the Dashtate a ten-day past, along with the other Terran missioners—Christian, Buddhist, the whole lot."
"How so?"
"A band of the Trasks' fanatical followers seized upon my Chief Astrologer; knocked the old fellow down and broke his eyeglasses. I pay astrology small heed myself; but I cannot permit the abuse of my servants. Loyalty up; loyalty down."
"The Trasks told me they were devoted to nonviolence," mused Reith.
"Indeed. They claimed to abhor the attack as much as I. But any movement of that ilk attracts unruly spirits, who grasp but the flimsiest pretext to assail and destroy. I allow no such turmoil in my realm! Given a choice between the peaceful security of my subjects and the Terrans' messages from the spirit world, I'll forgo the messages!"
Driving down the long road from Qou to Mishé, with Timásh riding a spare aya and leading another, Reith tried to sort out his feelings about Alicia. One part of his mind said forget the whole deal. If she wanted a permanent relationship with you, she would not have taken Sári so casually or questioned the girl in such a cold-bloodedly scientific spirit.
Meanwhile the other part of his mind missed Alicia with a poignancy that, a few moons before, he would not have believed possible. He had to restrain himself from winding the animals in his eagerness to see her again.
Being well-known in Mishé, Reith had no trouble at the city gate; but inside, he found the main avenue blocked by a growing crowd. By standing up in the gig, he could see over the Krishnans' heads.
A section of the avenue had been cordoned off by rows of Mikardando men-at-arms, their pikes held horizontally to keep the citizens back. In the cleared space beyond, he could see cameras mounted on wheeled scaffolds and a few actors, costumed as Krishnans, moving purposefully about.
Being too far away to hear, he hopped down from the gig, handed the reins to Timásh, and pushed through the crowd. Despite his apologies, the locals whom he elbowed aside looked angrily at him and muttered about mannerless alien barbarians as he squirmed past. When he reached the front row of spectators, further progress was halted by a soldier's pike. Reith said to the man-at-arms: "Let me pass, pray. I am with those Terran play-actors and must speak to them."