"Everyone hath some excuse for trespassing," sneered the trooper. "Orders are to keep all back, including you, alien!"
"But I am their official guide!" said Reith. "If you don't believe me, call one over."
Strachan's deep voice boomed out in Mikardandou. "Less noise, over there!! Whoever is babbling has ruined the sound for this scene, and we must start over."
"Now will ye get out?" snarled the soldier. "Or would ye liefer have your pate cracked by a spear shaft?"
With a sigh, Reith pushed back to the gig. By a roundabout way through back streets, he reached the consulate and found Fallon at his desk. Fallon told him: "They're all but one staying at Bosyár's Inn. Treasurer Gashigi said it was out of the question to sleep all thirty-odd in the Citadel."
"I can guess the exception," said Reith. "Your fellow Briton."
"Of course. The Treasurer seems to have a fancy for him."
"Or for his capabilities. Have you a room reserved for me?"
"I'm pairing you with Doctor Dyckman," said Fallon.
"You what?" Reith bounced out of his chair. "Whose idea—I mean—did she—"
"Just joking," said Fallon with a satyrlike grin. "You've got a single, with a nice bed big enough for two. You can use it as you please so long as you don't break it in a transport of passion."
"My dear Tony," growled Reith, "your ideas of humor can be smelled a kilometer upwind."
"Sorry; I didn't mean to poke a sore nerve."
"By the way," said Reith with a wry smile, "you may call me 'Sir Fergus' is you like. I am now a knight of Ruz."
"Congratulations," said Fallon. "But you were already a knight of Dur. Should I call you Sir Sir Fergus? And what did His Pomposity honor you for?"
"For teaching him poker."
"By Qondyor's brazen balls, that's rich!" laughed Fallon. "Having been a king myself, I don't take tides seriously. But I shall want to see Ordway's face when he hears. He adores titles!"
"Poker's not just fun with Gilan," said Reith. "It's also a matter of money, lots of it."
"How do you mean?"
"Each night Gilan sends command invitations to some of his poor little bureaucrats and mulcts them of their salaries."
"I know that zany's clever, but is he such a marvelous player?"
"He doesn't have to be. You see, when he bluffs, none of his underlings dares to call him, for fear of his august displeasure. So he rakes in pot after pot."
Fallon laughed again. "Fergus, old fish, the Dasht certainly owed you that knighthood. To do it right, he should have thrown in half the dashtate and a nubile daughter as well!"
Reith was sitting in a corner of Bosyár's lobby, toilsomely deciphering his way through a copy of the Mishé Defender, when the shooting crew straggled in, chattering. A couple of them greeted Reith; the others failed to notice him. He told himself: when she comes, no extravagant gestures! She's just an old friend. (Then why, said another part of his mind, was he wearing his best Mikardando kilt and his sword?)
"Hello, Fergus!" said Alicia from the doorway. A dozen pairs of eyeballs swiveled towards them, patiently expecting a repetition of their steamy parting at Novorecife. Aware of the curious stares, Reith merely said: "Hello, Alicia!" and shook her hand.
"How did you make out with the Dasht?" she asked.
"That's quite a story. Why don't we—you and I—go out to dinner? Baghál's Place is only a couple of blocks, and the food's good."
"Do they have dancing?"
"Some nights. And they often run a pretty good show—authentic Krishnan stuff instead of bad imitations of Terran performing arts."
"All right; give me a few minutes to wash up."
Alicia reappeared in a plain but attractive Terran street dress. As they walked arm in arm towards the tavern, words tumbled out. "One of the cameramen forgot to take off his lens cap today; ruined an hour's takes ..."
"Has Old Slimy been slithering up to you lately?"
"Cyril? No; he's been bunking up in the Citadel, where I guess Gashigi keeps him drained. But I've had to straight-arm Randal Fairweather more than once. The last time, he tried caveman tactics; so I hit him with my trusty handbag, with the coins. I will say he's a good sport; when he recovered consciousness he apologized ..."
"... so His Pomposity chucked me into a dungeon dark and dank; but Fodor's deck of cards got me out ..."
"... I had to give Ernesto Valdez the knee where it would do the most good, when he got grabby at the bathhouse the other day. Most of the crew have taken to Krishnan bath customs ..."
"... so I taught that crazy autocrat to play poker ..."
"... Randal's real name is Elmer Grotz, and he talks of nothing but the pictures he's been in. That's how they all are. Either they're bragging of past triumphs, or blaming someone for failures, or gossiping about who's screwing whom ..."
"I had a straight and was sure the Dasht was bluffing; but I didn't dare call him, because I'd already won as much as I thought safe ..."
"... that horrid little Motilal made a nasty remark to Bennett Ames—you know, Cassie's big, dumb husband— about his wife's lovers, and Ames hit him, and then Attila hit Ames ..."
"Remember the Reverend Trask and his wife? They've been kicked out of Ruz. Some of their converts attacked Gilan's pet astrologer—"
"Poor things! And the Trasks mean so well, too!"
"Krishna is littered with the bones of Terrans who meant well. Somebody ought to tell the Trasks what happened to the Reverend Jensen."
"The one whose head arrived at Novo in a cask of salt? They probably know; and in any case, they might welcome martyrdom."
"At least, if we ever go back to Rosid, you can display your assets without fear of disapproval ..."
"When Attila isn't working, he's out touring the armorers' shops in Mishé. He has a famous collection of swords at Montecito; that's where his money goes ..."
At Baghál's, the manager, knowing Reith, gave him a table for two on the edge of the dance floor. A waiter in a black-and-white striped kilt came to take orders. Alicia said: "When I left Krishna, a few places were beginning to hire waiters, instead of making patrons give their orders to the cook and come to fetch their own meals. Is table service customary now?"
"It's spreading; but some of these waiters are still pretty new at the trade. So don't be surprised if one of them dumps a plate of sodpá soup in your lap."
"I'm glad I'm not wearing my best dress. I suppose this is an example of that Terran corruption of Krishnan culture that your enemy Schlegel deplores."
Reith shrugged. "He can deplore all he likes, so long as he doesn't interfere. Hey, do you see what I do, yonder? Fry my guts if that isn't Ordway, Gashigi, and a couple of locals!" Just then the production manager laughed with a bray like that of a lonesome donkey. "Hear that?" asked Reith.
"I hear them," said Alicia. "I also see that Cyril's sopping up the booze again. Here comes the band; how's your dancing?"
"Haven't had much practice lately, except for hauling overweight female tourists around the floor in line of duty. After dancing with you, they seemed like waltzing hippopotami."
"Then it's high time for a practice session," she said firmly. She paused to listen. "They're playing the Indian tandava, I dunk. Do you know it? It has those gymnastic arm movements. I'll show you!"
As they danced past the table occupied by Ordway and Gashigi, they paused and were introduced to two bureaucrats from the Knights' Treasury. Gashigi said: "I ba-rought Cyril here, Far-goose, because ze great singer Sotaru bad-Khors performs tonight."
"Isn't he the fellow who fights duels with rival singers?" asked Reith.
"So I hear. Isn't it exciting? If he finds a rival here—" Reith said: "We'd better sit down, Lish, before he starts a fight with us."