“I smell food,” said Chance. “No inns, but lots of food carts. Suppose I get us some breakfast.”
“Do that,” said Peter. “Meantime I’ll take a short prowl around and see what’s to be seen. Jinian?” He invited me with a gesture.
I didn’t want to go anywhere. If truth were told, I wanted to get out of Fangel, the sooner the better. The silence before the gong went; the lack of smell to it; the way the people moved; everything about it gave me the shakes. “No. It’ll be easier for you to go here and there without me. I’ll keep an eye on the wagon while you two roam about.” He turned away with rejected sulkiness, moving into the gathering crowd that was assembling to stare at the krylobos.
“Aren’t they pretty things,” gushed a lady of Fangel, got up herself as a pretty thing, all ruffles and bows. “Great beauties. What do you feed them?”
Not of a mood to be tactful, I said, “About a twenty weight of raw meat a day, including the guts.”
The lady made a moue, tossed her head. “So savage! And where are you from? I have not seen garb like that before.”
“From Zinter. It is the usual dress there. Our people have a dislike of displaying their faces.” I tried to look the woman in the face, tried to make eye contact. Each time I came close, her glance slid away as though greased. Her expression was not unkind, and yet there was something about her that set my skin aprickle.
“Is it a Games dress of some kind?” She evidenced no particular interest in my answer, but I didn’t like the question.
“No, madam. It is the ordinary dress of our people.” She posed, simpered, displaying her own face in several well-practiced expressions. On her bodice she wore a jet plaque with the letters “DM” picked out in brilliants.
“How exotic. Do you allow others to know your names?”
So here it was. “Jambal,” I replied. There are many spells, seizings and sendings that can be done against those whose names were known. Silly to suspect this stupid-looking woman of any villainy. Silly. Why then did I suspect it? “My name is Jambal.”
“I am happy to meet you, Jambal. My name is Sweetning Horb. I live over there”—she pointed at one of the high-walled mansions along the avenue in Horb House. “Perhaps you will come to dine with us?”
“Alas, lady, no. We are expected in Luxuri and will leave before long.” Thank all the gods.
“All honor to the Duke of Betand. Hail Huldra. Hail Valearn. Hoorah for Dedrina Dreadeye. What a pity you must leave so soon.” I heard the name but did not. Dedrina Dreadeye.
Frozen with shock, I was still alert enough to see that Sweetning Horb wore a dream crystal about her neck. It was a pinkish stone set in a gold bezel.
Nausea struck at me; it was hard to raise my hand to stop her, but I managed to put a hand on the woman’s arm. “Please, who are these people you exclaim honor upon?”
“Honor? Upon whom, Jambal?”
“You said, “Honor upon the Duke of Betand.”“
“I did? Well, undoubtedly he is an official visitor worthy of honor.”
“But who is he?”
“But my dear, I haven’t the least idea. I must run. Lovely to have met you, and your huge savage birds.” I was given no time to recover. An oldster with a raffish beard stood importunately before me demanding to know the names of the birds.
“Yarnoff and Barnoff,” I said at once, trying to keep from shaking. “Yarnoff is the female.”
“And where were they captured, madam? I am zoo keeper for the city of Fangel and would be glad to know where a specimen could be acquired. Honor to the Duke.” He wore the jet badge, the pinkish crystal.
“It is my understanding they were taken as chicks from the mountains above the Southern Sea. However, since they came into my care as adults, I cannot vouch for the truth of this.” All lies, good safe lies.
“All honor to the Duke of Betand. Hail Huldra. Did I understand you to say they are fed raw meat?” When I nodded, he went on, “From my own experience, I would counsel the addition of cooked grain. I have been told that krylobos in the wild do eat grain, and it might be their health would suffer from a diet of meat alone ...” He took his crystal in one hand and licked it reflectively.
“Idiot,” commented Yittleby to Yattleby. “I’d feed him stewed grain. Actually, Jinian, a few ripe thrilps wouldn’t be amiss ...”
“Hail Valearn,” said the man, looking at me earnestly. “Hoorah for Dedrina Dreadeye.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t hear. What was that you just said?”
“That their health might suffer from a diet of meat alone.” He licked the crystal again.
I shivered deep inside, trying to keep it from showing. “Whether it would or not, sir, they must be fed now. Will you excuse me?” Then, almost silently, “Yittleby, couldn’t you two clear the area somewhat?” Yittleby charged the onlookers with a hungry caterwaul. Yattleby began to kick, missing his targets but only slightly. The oglers drew back in dismay, some reaching for the pinkish crystals that all of them wore. Some sucked upon them, seeming not to notice that they did so.
“The krylobos don’t like crowds,” I called, voice cracking. “Stand well back.” Now, I said to myself, it will be only a matter of moments before someone appears at my side with a pink crystal and insists I have a taste of it.
It was Chance who appeared, however, bearing fragrant meat pies and pastries. “All honor to the Duke of Betand,” he remarked. “This place is enough to give you the grues. I’ve decided my name is Biddle, by the way.”
“Thank the gods you were cautious. I’m Jambal. I hope to hell Peter had sense enough to—”
“Don’t worry about him. He’s all right. Tell you something interesting, though Jin
