the market) that this new-comer did not have elf favor.
The stranger sketched a gesture of peaceâhis open palm out. He wore weaponsâa blade, which was not quite as long as a fighting sword nor short as a dagger, but somewhat between the two, and a throwing axe, both sheathed at his belt. Coiled on his right hip, showing only when his vest swung open a bit, was something else, a long-lashed whip.
âGreetings, warriors.â He spoke with an assurance that matched his open approach. âI am Helagret, one who deals in rare beasts . . .â
He paused as if awaiting introductions from the three in turn. Naile grunted, his big hand had gone up to stroke Afreeta, and there was certainly no welcome in his lowering scowl.
Milo tried to sharpen his sense of uneasiness. Was this their watcher come at last into the open? He glanced at Ingrge. From a fleeting change of expression on the elfâs face, the swordsman knew that this was not the enemy.
The swordsman dropped the last counted piece into the traderâs grimy palm. Then he answered, since it would seem that the others left reply to him.
âMaster Helagret, we have no interest in aught here save mounts.â
âTrue,â the other nodded. âBut I have an interest in what your comrade has, swordsman.â He raised his hand, gauntleted in the same glossy leather, to point a forefinger at Afreeta. âI am gathering specimens for my Lord Fon-du-Ling of Faraaz. He would have in his out-garden the rarest of beasts. Alreadyâânow he waved towards the line of cagesââI have managed to find a griff-cat, a prim lizard, even a white sand serpent. Warrior.â Now he addressed Naile directly. âTo my Lord, money is nothing. A year ago he found the hidden Temple of Tung and all its once-locked treasures are under his hand. I am empowered to draw upon them to secure any rarity. What say you to a sword of seven spells, a never-fail shield, a necklet of lyra gems such as not even the king of the Great Kingdom can hope to hold, aââ
Naileâs hand swept from cupping Afreeta to the haft of his axe. The pseudo-dragon flickered out of sight within the collar of his boar-skin cape.
âI say, trapper of beasts, shut your mouth, lest you find steel renders it unshutable for all time!â There were red sparks in the berserkerâs deep-set eyes. His own lips pulled back, showing fangs that had given him his war name.
Helagret laughed lightly. âTemper your wrath, were-man. I shall not try to wrest your treasure from you. But since this is my mission there lies no great harm in my asking, does there?â His tone was faintly derisive, suggesting that Naile was too closely akin to those bristled and tusked beasts, whose fury he could share, to be treated with on the true human level.
âIf you will not deal with me on one matter, warriors, perhapswe can bargain on another. I must transport my animals to Faraaz. Unfortunately, my hired guards indulged too deeply in the wine the Two Harpies is so noted for. They now rest in the Strangersâ Tower where they have been given a period to reflect upon their sin of indulgence. I have cart men, but they are no fighters. If your passage is westward I can pay fighting wages until we reach the castle of my lord. Then he may well be so delighted with what I bring him that he will be even more open-handed.â
He smiled, looking from one to another of them. Milo smiled in return. What game the other might be playing he had no guess, but no one could possibly be as stupid as this beast trainer presented himself. Though Ingrge had passed the sign that this was not their watcher, yet the very way he attempted to force himself upon their company was out of character.
âWe do not ride to Faraaz.â Milo tried to make his voice as guilelessly open as the otherâs.
Helagret shrugged. âIt is a pity, warriors. My lord has had unusual luck in two of
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