'I have come,' I said, ' to rent my sword to the House of Cernus.'
'We have been expecting you,' said Cernus.
I revealed no sign of surprise.
'It is understood by me,' said Cernus, evidently relaying certain reports which had reached him, 'that Portus, of the House of Portus, sought to hire your sword in vain.'
'It is true,' I said.
Cernus smiled. 'Otherwise,' he said, 'you surely would not have come here — for in this house we are innocent.'
This was an allusion to the mark which I wore upon my forehead.
I had spent the night following the game in an inn, had washed away the mark and this morning, early, when I had arisen, had placed it again on my forehead. After a bit of cold bosk, some water and a handful of peas, I had come to the House of Cernus.
It was not yet the seventh Gorean hour but already the slaver was up, conducting his affairs, when I had been ushered into his presence. At his right hand there was a Scribe, an angular, sullen man with deep eyes, with tablets and stylus. It was Caprus of Ar, Chief Accountant to the House of Cernus. He lived in the house and seldom went abroad in the streets. It was with this man that Vella had been placed, her registration, papers and purchase having been arranged.
In the House of Cernus, after the sheet, bracelets, leash and collar had been removed, agents of the House of Cernus had checked her fingerprints against those on the papers. She had then been examined thoroughly by the Physicians of the House of Cernus. Then, found acceptable, she had knelt while agents of the House signed the receipt of her delivery and endorsed her papers, retaining one set, giving one set to the seller's agent, for forwarding to the Cylinder of Documents. Then she had submitted herself to the House of Cernus, kneeling before one of its agents, lowering her head, extending her arms, wrists crossed. She had then been collared and turned over to Caprus, to be combed and cleaned, for the smell of the pens was on her, given two sets of slave livery and instructed in her duties. Caprus was said to be a friend of Priest-Kings.
There had been no difficulty, it seemed, in placing Vella in the House of Cernus. Yet I feared for her safety. It was a dangerous game.
'May I ask,' inquired Cernus, 'for whom you wear on your forehead the mark of the black dagger?'
I would speak of these things, to some extent, with Cernus, for it was important, though perilous, that he should understand what purported to be my mission. I was now time that certain things should be revealed, that they might leak into the streets of Ar.
'I come to avenge,' I said, 'Tarl Cabot, he of Ko-ro-ba.'
There were cries of astonishment from the men-at-arms. I smiled to myself. I had little doubt but that in an Ahn the story would be in all the Paga taverns of Ar, on all the bridges and in all the cylinders.
'In this city,' said Cernus, 'Tarl Cabot, he of Ko-ro-ba, is known as Tarl of Bristol.'
'Yes,' I said.
'I have heard sing of him,' said Cernus. I observed the slaver closely. He seemed troubled, shocked.
Two of his men rushed from the room. I heard them shouting in the corridors of the house.
'I regret to hear it,' said Cernus, at last. Then he looked at me. 'There will be few in Ar,' he said, 'who would not wish you well in your dark work.'
'Who could kill Tarl of Bristol?' cried out a man-at-arms, not even thinking that Cernus had not acknowledged his right to speak.
'A knife on the high bridge,' said I, 'in the vicinity of the Cylinder of Warriors-at the Twentieth Ahn-in the darkness and the shadows of the lamps.'
The men-at-arms looked at one another. 'It could only have been so,' said one.
I myself felt bitterly about a poorly lit bridge in the vicinity of the Cylinder of Warriors-and about a certain hour on a certain day-for it was on that bridge that a young man, of the Warriors, had walked perhaps not more than a quarter of an Ahn before I myself would have passed that way. His crime, if he had had one, was that his build was rather like mine, and his hair, in the shadows, the half-darkness of the lamps and the three moons of Gor, might have seemed to one who watched like mine. The older Tarl, the Koroban master of arms, and myself had found the body, and near it, the patch of green caught in a crack in the grillwork of one of the lamps on the bridge, where perhaps it had been torn from the shoulder of a running, stumbling man. The older Tarl had turned the body in his hands, and we had looked on it, and both of us had regarded one another. 'This knife,' said the Older Tarl, 'was to have been yours.'
'Do you know him?' I asked.
'No,' he had said, 'other than the fact that he was a warrior from the allied city of Thentis, a poor Warrior.'
We noted that his pouch had not been cut. The killer had wanted only the life.
The older Tarl, taking the knife by the hand guard, withdrew it. It was a throwing knife, of a sort used in Ar, much smaller than the southern quiva, and tapered on only one side. It was a knife designed for killing. Mixed with the blood and fluids of the body there was a smear of white at the end of the steel, the softened residue of a glaze of kanda paste, now melted by body heat, which had coated the tip of the blade. On the hilt of the dagger, curling about it, was the legend, 'I have sought him. I have found him.' It was a killing knife.
'The Caste of Assassins?' I asked.
'Unlikely,' had said the Older Tarl, 'for Assassins are commonly too proud for poison.'
Then, not speaking, the Older Tarl had slung the body over his shoulders. I took the patch from the grillwork. We took the body, fortunately meeting no one at that late hour, to the nearby compartment of my father, Matthew Cabot, Administrator of the City. The older Tarl, my father and I long discussed the matter. We were confident that this attempt on my life, for that it seemed to be, had something to do with the Sardar, and the Priest-Kings, and the Others, not Priest-Kings, who desired this world of Priest-Kings and men, and, surreptitiously and cruelty, were fighting to obtain it, though as yet, perhaps fearing the power of Priest-Kings or not fully understanding how severely it had been reduced in the Nest War of more than a year ago, they had not dared to attack openly. Accordingly, biding our time, we let it be known in the city that Tarl Cabot had been slain. Now, in the Hall of the House of Cernus, my thoughts became bitter. I had indeed come to avenge. But I did not even know his name. He had been a tarnsman of Thentis. He had come to the allied city of Ko-ro-ba, and had there found his death, for no reason that was clear to me other than the fact that he had had the misfortune to resemble me.
'Why,' asked Cernus, breaking into my reverie, 'did not Warriors of Ko-ro-ba come to Ar, to search out the killer?'
'It was not an act of war,' said I. 'Further,' I pointed out, 'now that Kazrak of Port Kar is no longer Administrator of Ar it seemed unlikely that Ar would welcome Koroban Warriors within her walls.'
'It is true,' said one of the men-at-arms.
'Do you know the name of the man whom you seek?' asked Cernus.
'I have only this,' I said, drawing forth from my belt the wrinkled patch of green cloth.
'It is a faction patch,' said Cernus. 'There are thousands of such in Ar.'
'It is all I have,' I said.
'This house itself,' said Cernus, 'is allied with the faction of the Greens, as certain other houses, and various of the establishments of the city, are associated with other factions.'
'I know,' I said, 'that the House of Cernus is allied with the Greens.'
'I now see,' said Cernus, 'that there is more reason than I suspected in your desire to rent your sword in this house.'
'Yes,' said I, 'for all I know, the man I seek may be of this house.'
'It is unlikely though,' said Cernus, 'for those who favor the Greens are numbered in the thousands and come from all castes of Gor. The Administrator of Ar himself, and the High Initiate, are partisans of the green.'
I shrugged.
'But you are welcome in this house,' said Cernus. 'As you presumably know these are difficult times in Ar, and a good sword is a good investment, and steel in these days is upon occasion more valuable than gold.'
I nodded.
'I will upon occasion,' said Cernus, 'have commissions for you.' He looked down on me. 'But for the time,' he said, 'it is valuable for me simply for it to be known that your sword is in this house.'
'I await your commands,' I said.
'You will be shown to your quarters,' said Cernus, gesturing to a nearby man-at-arms.
'Incidentally,' said he, 'Killer.'
I turned to face him.
'It is known to me that in the tavern of Spinduis, you slew four Warriors of the House of Portus.'
I said nothing.
'Four pieces of gold,' said Cernus, 'double tarns, will be sent to your rooms.'
I nodded my head.
'Also,' said Cernus, 'it is understood by me that you picked up one of my girls on the street.'
I tensed slightly, my hand dropping to the hilt of the short sword.
'What was her number?' Cernus was asking Caprus, who stood near him.
'74673,' said the Scribe. I had anticipated that there would be some mention of Vella, for it was unlikely that Cernus would be unaware of my contact with her. Indeed, I had instructed her, when she had returned late to the House of Cernus, to bewail and protest what had theoretically happened to her in no uncertain terms. Accordingly, I was not surprised that the Scribe had her number ready for Cernus. Moreover, he probably knew it anyway, as she had been assigned to his staff, primarily to run errands in the city, for Caprus, it was said, seldom cared to leave the House of Cernus. I wished to be able to work closely with Vella in the House of Cernus. I was gambling on the unpleasant sense of humor not uncommonly found among slavers.
'Do you object?' I asked.
Cernus smiled. 'Our Physicians ascertained,' said he, 'that she is only a Red Silk Girl.'
'I scarcely supposed,' said I, 'that you would permit a White Silk Girl to go alone on the streets of Ar.'
Cernus chuckled. 'Indeed not,' he said. 'The risk is too much, sometimes as much as ten gold pieces.' Then he leaned back. '74673,' he said.
'The girl!' cried out the Scribe.
