hand guarding the throat, elbow pressed above his spleen. His knife was held like a sword but the point was in line with his forearm and aimed low. The stance of a man willing to take a wound as long as he could deliver a blow.
One would be enough. The vicious point driving into the intestines, twisting, ripping, the sharp edges severing tendon, muscle, artery and nerve. Releasing a shower of blood and guts as it was drawn upwards and free.
An obvious danger – were there others?
Toibin had intended the challenge from the first but why had he been so willing to accept the woman's conditions? Was he confident because he was certain he would win?
Dumarest stepped aside as the captain attacked, the slender triangle shimmering like ice as it cut the air. A stab which went wide, steel clashing as he parried, testing for strength and agility. The triangle was like a rock, Toibin like a cat as he spun to thrust again, to snarl his anger as Dumarest moved beyond reach.
'I knew you were a coward. But none can run from death.'
Words intended to irritate but Dumarest ignored the taunt. Ford's aunt and her supporters were to his left and he moved so as to place them at his back. A small defense but if men had been set to help Toibin it would make things harder for them. As for the rest he could only trust their concept of honor.
'A dancer.' Toibin sneered as, after a flurry in which blades had made metallic ringings, Dumarest regained his chosen position. 'If you are afraid of combat then yield and I will treat you gently. Admit you lied. Pay for your mistake and live to enjoy the light of another dawn.'
An offer which Dumarest pretended to consider. In any fight the object was to win as fast as possible before luck or accident could bring defeat. Toibin was playing to his audience. His reputation was at stake and he wanted to demean his opponent before butchering his path to victory. A weakness which could be used against him.
'Money,' said Dumarest. 'You'll accept money?' He slowed, allowed the other to come closer, the vicious blade within reach. 'You'll let me live if I pay?'
Toibin smiled, nodding then, with sudden ferocity, attacked. He gave no warning, the slender triangle of his blade darting forward to rip into the stomach. A blow Dumarest had anticipated and he twisted from it, feeling the burn as the point ripped at his side. A minor wound risked for the chance to grip the hand holding the knife, halting movement while his own blade slashed upwards to cut the interior of the forearm, severing tendons, veins, grating on bone to release a shower of blood.
'Bastard!' Toibin bared his teeth in a snarl. 'You bastard!'
His left hand darted forward, fingers stabbing in a vicious attack. Dumarest struck before they could reach his eyes, slashing the edge of his knife hard against the right side of the captain's throat. Sending the blade to shear through skin, fat, muscle, the pulsing arteries beneath. Releasing a fountain of blood to stain them both before the captain slumped lifeless to the ground.
Chapter Eight
Ivernal wasted no time in coming to the point.
'Earth!' His hand slammed on the table, emphasizing both anger and disgust. 'Is the man serious? Does he expect us to give him a ship and crew to go hunting a legend?'
'He isn't asking for charity,' said Nadine. 'He-'
'If any want to go with him that is their choice.' Ozenne was curt in his interruption as he attacked what he considered to be the heart of the matter. 'None has the right to deny them.'
'That is admitted.' Musson shifted restlessly on his chair. 'What is the problem? Why is the Council in session? It is simply a matter of business. Does Dumarest have money?'
'His own plus what he gained from Toibin.' Nadine added, 'Aside from personal jewelry that wasn't much.'
'Is that why he challenged Dumarest?' Jumay was shrewd. 'To harvest what he'd gained from the traders? Not that it matters. Toibin was a fool. He could have handled things better. Dumarest is an outsider.'
But could no longer be treated as one.
Nadine leaned back in her chair pretending an indifference she did not feel. The council chamber, a bare room fitted with a table and chairs, held no dignity as the Council itself held no real power. A body created as a matter of convenience to provide arbitration when needed, to deal with visiting traders, to act as an agent and to provide a degree of administration. Yet they could act as one and had influence by reason of friends and families.
Musson said, 'I still fail to see why we are here. Dumarest wants to charter a ship. If he can pay for it then where is the problem?'
Dieter was more discerning. 'He wants to go hunting a myth. To search for Earth. Never mind what we think – he obviously believes he can find it. But when? Where? How long would he expect the charter to last?'
'Until he reaches his destination.' Nadine looked at those around the table. 'He is willing to pay all he has towards the venture. He also has the coordinates.'
'Of Earth?' Calbray spoke for the first time. An old, thin, wizened man who bore facial scars with a stubborn pride. 'Woman, do you know what you are saying?'
To them all Earth was a legend. Any supposed coordinates had to be the product of a mad or cunning mind. The stuff of lying adventure sold in taverns to gullible fools. Such a one, with money, could buy passage to wherever it would take him, but the ships of Kaldar were not ordinary vessels. The caution of those owning and operating them induced a wary suspicion.
One Nadine shared but Dumarest had won her over.
Now she dangled a glittering bait.
Earth was the mythical treasure world of the galaxy. A planet of indescribable wealth. One holding mountains of rare and precious metals, dunes of gems, lakes of perfumes, oceans of wine, forests of trees bearing pods which held the cure for all ills. The inflated promise of legend yet the allure remained. Find Earth and gain the prize of all time. Out there for the talking.
'Dumarest is convinced he can find it,' she said. 'He is willing to back himself with a fortune. All he wants is a ship to carry him.'
'Then let him find one elsewhere.'
'And lose all the potential profit?' Dieter scowled at the suggestion. 'Don't be a fool, Ivernal. We daren't turn him down. Think how it will look to others. The chance to find the richest prize ever dreamed of thrown away by scared old men? You know what would be said and done. We'll be targets for every frustrated youngster on the planet. We wouldn't last a week.'
Ozenne said, 'You say he has the coordinates, Nadine. Have you seen them? Did he give you any proof?'
'He isn't lying.'
'But the figures?'
'He didn't give them to me,' she admitted. 'Would you?'
'No, I suppose not. But he'll have to give them to the captain. Who will it be?'
She took her time before answering, knowing she trod on delicate ground. Few ships were owned by an individual. Costs were too high and most were owned by combines with shares sold to those willing to gamble. Crews and captains the same. Dieter''s warning applied to more than frustrated youngsters. Who best to select?
'Wine?' Brak Sorenson had held himself in reserve. Now he acted to take the pressure off his niece. As he limped around the table filling glasses he said, casually, 'While we're on the subject, who will take over the Geniat now that Toibin is dead?'
'Uncle, that can wait.'
'Of course. It's just that he was readying for action and -' He broke off, shrugging. 'I guess it doesn't matter.'
A clever man, one who knew better than to say too much or press too hard, but the seed had been sown and Nadine shared his silence as discussion swept the table. All had preferences, Jumay arguing with Ozenne, Dieter with Musson. Calbray with Ivernal. As the noise mounted Nadine rapped on the board.
'If the proposition is going to create strife among us it had best be abandoned. A pity. The potential is vast but Dumarest will have to try elsewhere.'
As if on cue Musson said, 'You've given this some thought, Nadine. What do you advise?'
'That we forget our differences and waste no time in reaching agreement. Dumarest has much to offer but
