could reorient, the sticks had clipped him about the business arm, and he was unable to maintain his pose. The motion of the ball slowed; the man staggered.
Seeing that he was too stupid to realize he had already lost and to step out of the circle, Tyl spoke for the man:
'Star yields.'
The star looked about, confused. 'But rm still in the circle!'
Tyl had no patience with folly. 'Stay, then.'
The man started to wheel his ball again, unsteadily. The sticker stepped close and rapped him on the skull. As man and ball fell, the sticker put one of his sticks between his own teeth and used that hand to clamp on to the chain. This was an interesting maneuver, because the typical star chain was spiked against just such contact-tiny, needlepointed barbs. But the sticker seemed not to notice. He dragged the unconscious man to the edge of the ring, then let go and bent to roll him out.
With something akin to genuine pleasure, Tyl presented the grotesque sticker with the golden band of manhood. He noticed that the man's hands wore enormously callused. No wonder he did not fear barbs! 'Henceforth, warrior, be called-' Tyl paused. 'What name have you chosen?'
The man tried to speak, but his voice was rasping. It was as though he had calluses in his larynx, too. The word that came out sounded like a growL
Tyl took it in stride. 'Henceforth be called Var-Var the Stick.' Then: 'Who is your companion?'
Var shook his shaggy leaning head, not answering. But the woman came forth of her own accord, removing her veil and cloak.
'Sola!' Tyl exclaimed, recognizing the wife of the Master. She was still a handsome woman, though it had been almost ten years since he had first seen her. She had stayed about four years with Sol, then gone to the new Master of Empire. Because the conqueror was weaponless and wore no bracelet and used no name, she had kept the band and name she had. This was tantamount to adultery, openly advertised-but the Master had won her fairly. He was the mightiest man ever to enter the circle, armed or not. If he didn't care about appearances, no one else could afford to comment.
But Sola had at least been faithful to her chosen husbands, except for a little funny business at the very beginning with that Sos fellow. What was she doing now, wandering about with a (hitherto) nameless youth?
'The Master trained him,' she said. 'He wanted him to take his name by himself, without prejudice.'
A protege of the Weaponless! That made several things fall into place. Well trained-naturally; the Master knew all weapons as adversaries. Strong-yes, that followed. Ugly-of course. This was exactly the sort of man - the Nameless One would like. Perhaps this was what the Master himself had been like as a youth.
And then he made another connection. 'That wild boy that ravaged the crops, five years ago-'
'Yes. A man, now.'
Tyl's hands went to his own sticks. 'He bit me, then. I will have vengeance on him now.'
'No,' she said. 'That is why I came. You shall not take Var to the circle.'
'Is he afraid to meet me by day? I will waive terms.'
'Var is afraid of nothing. But he is novice yet, and you the second ranked of the empire. He returns with me.'
'He requires a woman to protect him? I should have named him Var the Schtick!'
She stood up straight, her figure blooming like that of a freshly nubile girL 'Do you wish to answer to my husband?'
And Tyl, because he was bonded to the man she termed her husband, and was himself a man of honor, had to stifle his fury and answer, 'No.'
She turned to Var. 'We'll stay the night here, then begin the journey back tomorrow. You will want to take your bracelet to the main tent.'
Tyl smiled to himself. The new warrior, with his grotesqueries, would find no takers for his band. Let him celebrate alone!
