Read Online The Asutra by Jack Vance - Free Book Online
Authors: Jack Vance
Tags: Science-Fiction
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of black specks, with a thin plume of lavender dust above. . . . Ifness and Etzwane approached the inn, and entered by a hole in the mud wall. The common room was dim and dank-smelling. A rack behind the counter supported three barrels; elsewhere were benches and stools where half a dozen men sat with earthenware bowls of sour seed wine or mugs of the famous Shagfe cellar brew. Conversation halted; the men stared at Ifness and Etzwane with a still intensity. The sole illumination was the purple glare of outdoors seeping through the door-hole. Ifness and Etzwane peered around the room while their eyes adjusted to the dimness.
A short, bare-chested man with long white hair ambled forward. He wore a leather apron and knee boots, and was apparently Baba the proprietor. He inquired their needs in a rough dialect which Etzwane understood more through divination than comprehension.
Ifness responded in a fair simulation of the dialect. "What sort of lodging are you able to provide us?"
"The best to be had in Shagfe," declared Baba the innkeeper. "Anyone will tell you as much. Is your question motivated by sheer curiosity?"
"No," replied Ifness. "You may show us the best you have to offer."
"That is simple enough," said Baba. "This way, if you please. " He led them down an ill-smelling corridor, past a rudimentary kitchen where a great kettle of porridge simmered over a fire, and into a bare courtyard, sheltered around the periphery by an overhanging roof. "Select whatever area you wish. The rain generally sweeps in from the south and the south bay is the driest."
Ifness nodded gravely. "The lodging is adequate. What of our pacers?"
"I will take them to my stable and feed them hay, provided that you make suitable recompense. How long is your stay?"
"A day or two, or even longer, depending upon the transaction of our business. We are slave traders with a commission to buy a dozen stout Red Devils to row the galley of an east coast potentate. We understand, however, that the Red Devils have all been killed, which is sad news to hear."
"Your misfortune is my great luck, for they were on the march toward Shagfe and might well have destroyed my hostelry."
"Perhaps the conquerors took captives?"
"I believe not, but in the common room sits Fabrache the Lucky Little Survivor. He claims to have witnessed the battle, and who is to doubt his word? If you were to provide a mug or two of cellar brew, his tongue would wag freely, I vouch for this."
"A happy thought. Now, as to the fee for shelter and food, for us and our pacers ..."
The haggling proceeded, Ifness driving a hard bar- gain in order to avoid a reputation for openhandedness. After five minutes a value defined as two ounces of silver was placed upon high-quality food and lodging for a period of five days.
"Very good then," said Ifness, "though as usual I have allowed a skillful rhetorician to persuade me into foolish extravagance. Let us now confer with Fabrache the Lucky Little Survivor. How did he gain this unusual cognomen?"
"It is no more than a child's pet name. Three times as an infant his mother attempted to drown him, and each time he pushed up through the mud. She gave up her task in disgust, and even bestowed the diminutive upon him. He became a man without fear; he reasonably argues that if Gaspard the God desired his death, he would not have overlooked this early opportunity. . . ."
Baba led the way back to the common room. He called "I introduce to the company the noble Ifness and Etzwane, who have come to Shagfe to buy slaves."
A man to the side gave a dispirited moan. "So now they compete with Hozman Sore-throat to drive prices still higher?"
"Hozman Sore-throat has bid for no Red Devils, which these traders require. " Baba the innkeeper turned to a tall, thin man with a long, dismal face and a beard hanging below his chin like an icicle of black hair. "Fabrache, what are the facts? How many Red Devils still survive?"
Fabrache responded with the
A short, bare-chested man with long white hair ambled forward. He wore a leather apron and knee boots, and was apparently Baba the proprietor. He inquired their needs in a rough dialect which Etzwane understood more through divination than comprehension.
Ifness responded in a fair simulation of the dialect. "What sort of lodging are you able to provide us?"
"The best to be had in Shagfe," declared Baba the innkeeper. "Anyone will tell you as much. Is your question motivated by sheer curiosity?"
"No," replied Ifness. "You may show us the best you have to offer."
"That is simple enough," said Baba. "This way, if you please. " He led them down an ill-smelling corridor, past a rudimentary kitchen where a great kettle of porridge simmered over a fire, and into a bare courtyard, sheltered around the periphery by an overhanging roof. "Select whatever area you wish. The rain generally sweeps in from the south and the south bay is the driest."
Ifness nodded gravely. "The lodging is adequate. What of our pacers?"
"I will take them to my stable and feed them hay, provided that you make suitable recompense. How long is your stay?"
"A day or two, or even longer, depending upon the transaction of our business. We are slave traders with a commission to buy a dozen stout Red Devils to row the galley of an east coast potentate. We understand, however, that the Red Devils have all been killed, which is sad news to hear."
"Your misfortune is my great luck, for they were on the march toward Shagfe and might well have destroyed my hostelry."
"Perhaps the conquerors took captives?"
"I believe not, but in the common room sits Fabrache the Lucky Little Survivor. He claims to have witnessed the battle, and who is to doubt his word? If you were to provide a mug or two of cellar brew, his tongue would wag freely, I vouch for this."
"A happy thought. Now, as to the fee for shelter and food, for us and our pacers ..."
The haggling proceeded, Ifness driving a hard bar- gain in order to avoid a reputation for openhandedness. After five minutes a value defined as two ounces of silver was placed upon high-quality food and lodging for a period of five days.
"Very good then," said Ifness, "though as usual I have allowed a skillful rhetorician to persuade me into foolish extravagance. Let us now confer with Fabrache the Lucky Little Survivor. How did he gain this unusual cognomen?"
"It is no more than a child's pet name. Three times as an infant his mother attempted to drown him, and each time he pushed up through the mud. She gave up her task in disgust, and even bestowed the diminutive upon him. He became a man without fear; he reasonably argues that if Gaspard the God desired his death, he would not have overlooked this early opportunity. . . ."
Baba led the way back to the common room. He called "I introduce to the company the noble Ifness and Etzwane, who have come to Shagfe to buy slaves."
A man to the side gave a dispirited moan. "So now they compete with Hozman Sore-throat to drive prices still higher?"
"Hozman Sore-throat has bid for no Red Devils, which these traders require. " Baba the innkeeper turned to a tall, thin man with a long, dismal face and a beard hanging below his chin like an icicle of black hair. "Fabrache, what are the facts? How many Red Devils still survive?"
Fabrache responded with the
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