Read Online Talons of Scorpio by Alan Burt Akers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alan Burt Akers
Ads: Link
with those giant chops — and we will need to take provisions with us, also, I think.”
“Aye.”
He slammed his knife down hard.
“You are infuriating, Jak! Is that all you can say — aye!”
“Anything else would appear superfluous.”
“We are likely to have Murgon Marsilus, King Nemo, the Pandrite-forsaken imps of Lem, and who knows who else, all buzzing about our ears and trying to part us from our heads — yet all you can do is chomp down Vosk chops and say Aye.”
“I forbore to point out the facts you have just related with such fervor out of respect for the delicacy of your stomach during a meal.” He might have blown up then; but I went on in what I hoped was an imperturbable tone: “However, if you wish me to add from all we have unearthed and what we can surmise, my own observations, why, then, I will willingly do so.”
Then he had me. He said: “Aye.”
I almost laughed around a mouthful of vosk chop.
“Well, then: Firstly — and there may not be a secondly — the Kovneva Tilda wishes to return to her palace here in Port Marsilus for a number of reasons. She wishes to consult with this mysterious Mindi the Mad, whoever she may be. She wishes to see the twins Pynsi and Poldo Mytham. Also she feels safer in her own palace.” I took up a glass of wine, a full-bodied red — a Jeu O’fremont, I recall — and watched Pompino. He sat munching his bird and watching me. I went on: “The Leem Lovers have committed themselves too deeply in the attempt to kill her and must continue—”
“Ha!” said Pompino. “We’ve blattered ’em once — let ’em try again, Pandrite rot ’em!”
“Quite. As I was saying. She must have friends in her own capital city, and in her palace... Surely?”
“One would judge so, yes.”
“Once we can place her safely in their hands we can breathe more freely. And we can get on with burning temples.”
“Aye.”
“It also strikes me that young Pando got in over his head. He joined up with the Leem Lovers in order to strike at his cousin Murgon. I think that association with Lem the Silver Leem was too strong for his blood. People get to know about these things — people who count, in responsible positions, who run things. The old values wither. The whole of this kingdom of Tomboram is in a mess, and the kovnate of Bormark is in the worst mess. And Pando is at his wits’ end.”
“With that reading of the matter I concur.”
So, inevitably, I said: “Aye.”
We drank a little in silence for a space.
Then Pompino said: “This young lady, the Vadni Dafni Harlstam, whose lands adjoin those of Pando. Murgon designs to marry her to aggrandize himself. So does Pando. One is allowed to wonder, I think, if she, too, is an adherent of Lem.”
“Ah,” I said, wisely.
“What is sure is that she is not the cause of the quarrel between them. That has festered since their respective births. She is the catalyst that has precipitated the latest outburst. And she is likely to be the last.”
“That is a bleak enough prophecy. But, if you look on the bright side, it might be a good one.”
He reached for more wine, his whiskers very red under the lamps.
“You mean, Jak, that after we have finished with them all, all their problems will be settled? Aye!”
You had to hand it to Pompino the Iarvin. Confidence was his middle name in these matters. Once he stepped ashore he became a different man.
Nath the Apron came in with the dessert. Limki had prepared looshas pudding, a soldiers’ favorite, and both Pompino and I tucked in. There was a cream and fruit trifle to follow that, and Nath the Apron, a quiet and unobtrusive cabin steward, brought in the bowls of fruit and the palines. The wine passed, and we sat, thinking of what lay ahead.
Thankfully, on Kregen, no one was foolish enough to light up and smoke. Although, and sometimes I admit this with a quiver of guilt, a fine after-dinner cigar would not have gone amiss...
Presently, Pompino
“Aye.”
He slammed his knife down hard.
“You are infuriating, Jak! Is that all you can say — aye!”
“Anything else would appear superfluous.”
“We are likely to have Murgon Marsilus, King Nemo, the Pandrite-forsaken imps of Lem, and who knows who else, all buzzing about our ears and trying to part us from our heads — yet all you can do is chomp down Vosk chops and say Aye.”
“I forbore to point out the facts you have just related with such fervor out of respect for the delicacy of your stomach during a meal.” He might have blown up then; but I went on in what I hoped was an imperturbable tone: “However, if you wish me to add from all we have unearthed and what we can surmise, my own observations, why, then, I will willingly do so.”
Then he had me. He said: “Aye.”
I almost laughed around a mouthful of vosk chop.
“Well, then: Firstly — and there may not be a secondly — the Kovneva Tilda wishes to return to her palace here in Port Marsilus for a number of reasons. She wishes to consult with this mysterious Mindi the Mad, whoever she may be. She wishes to see the twins Pynsi and Poldo Mytham. Also she feels safer in her own palace.” I took up a glass of wine, a full-bodied red — a Jeu O’fremont, I recall — and watched Pompino. He sat munching his bird and watching me. I went on: “The Leem Lovers have committed themselves too deeply in the attempt to kill her and must continue—”
“Ha!” said Pompino. “We’ve blattered ’em once — let ’em try again, Pandrite rot ’em!”
“Quite. As I was saying. She must have friends in her own capital city, and in her palace... Surely?”
“One would judge so, yes.”
“Once we can place her safely in their hands we can breathe more freely. And we can get on with burning temples.”
“Aye.”
“It also strikes me that young Pando got in over his head. He joined up with the Leem Lovers in order to strike at his cousin Murgon. I think that association with Lem the Silver Leem was too strong for his blood. People get to know about these things — people who count, in responsible positions, who run things. The old values wither. The whole of this kingdom of Tomboram is in a mess, and the kovnate of Bormark is in the worst mess. And Pando is at his wits’ end.”
“With that reading of the matter I concur.”
So, inevitably, I said: “Aye.”
We drank a little in silence for a space.
Then Pompino said: “This young lady, the Vadni Dafni Harlstam, whose lands adjoin those of Pando. Murgon designs to marry her to aggrandize himself. So does Pando. One is allowed to wonder, I think, if she, too, is an adherent of Lem.”
“Ah,” I said, wisely.
“What is sure is that she is not the cause of the quarrel between them. That has festered since their respective births. She is the catalyst that has precipitated the latest outburst. And she is likely to be the last.”
“That is a bleak enough prophecy. But, if you look on the bright side, it might be a good one.”
He reached for more wine, his whiskers very red under the lamps.
“You mean, Jak, that after we have finished with them all, all their problems will be settled? Aye!”
You had to hand it to Pompino the Iarvin. Confidence was his middle name in these matters. Once he stepped ashore he became a different man.
Nath the Apron came in with the dessert. Limki had prepared looshas pudding, a soldiers’ favorite, and both Pompino and I tucked in. There was a cream and fruit trifle to follow that, and Nath the Apron, a quiet and unobtrusive cabin steward, brought in the bowls of fruit and the palines. The wine passed, and we sat, thinking of what lay ahead.
Thankfully, on Kregen, no one was foolish enough to light up and smoke. Although, and sometimes I admit this with a quiver of guilt, a fine after-dinner cigar would not have gone amiss...
Presently, Pompino
Similar Books
