Read The Tritonian Ring and Other Pasudian Tales for Free Online Page B

he stared at the water. Though normally nervous and impatient, quickly bored by inactivity, he found that he could watch the soothing sight of the endless series of crests riding by.
     
                  But something nagged him, filling him with a vague feeling of incongruity and unease. In the late afternoon they skirted a mountainous coast.
     
                  "Meropia," said Captain Ruaz.
     
                  By nightfall Sret had recovered enough to eat. Afterwards Vakar, though monstrously sleepy, got little sleep because of the moonlight, the motion, and the ship-noises. Next day they left Meropia behind in the afternoon and sailed eastward over the empty sea. Ruaz explained:
     
                  "We don't see other ships because we're the first out of Amferé after the winter layup. We're taking a chance on a late storm to get higher prices in Gadaira before the competition arrives."
     
                  Vakar wondered at his continuing unease until the sight of Sret chatting with Ruaz gave him a clue. He remembered Sret's saying to Nyeron he'd be back sooner than expected. Why? Did he think that Vakar would lose heart and turn back, or get killed in a brawl? Or ...
     
                  Vakar felt like kicking himself for not having seen it sooner. Kuros, acting in concordance with the Gorgons, could have sent Sret along to murder him and then go home with a story of how his master had been eaten by a monster. Sret had spoken to Nyeron in Hesperian in ignorance of the fact that Vakar knew that tongue. Vakar fingered his hilt and glanced narrowly to where Sret huddled under his cloak, the hood pulled up over his head, swapping jokes with the captain. He thought of walking up to the fellow and striking off his head. Still, he might be wrong in his suspicions, and at best the killing would be embarrassing to explain.
     
                  Vakar wondered whether to take Fual into his confidence. He asked:
     
                  "Fual, who is Sret? I never knew him before this journey."
     
                  Fual shrugged. "I think he's part Lotri, but I never knew him either."
     
                  If true, that made it unlikely that both Sret and Fual were in on the plot. After the evening meal Vakar told Fual that they should keep watch-and-watch through the night in case of foul play. Fual looked startled and produced a handsome silver-inlaid dagger.
     
                  "Ha!" said Vakar. "Where did you get that? You stole it at Nyeron's! I ought to beat you ... But perhaps 'tis a lucky theft for once. Go to sleep while I take the first watch."
     
                  Shortly before midnight Vakar was aroused by Fual's shaking him. The valet whispered:
     
                  "You were right, sir. They're gathered aft, whispering."
     
                  Vakar rolled over and peered aft from the bow where he and Fual lay. Before the lower edge of the sail he could see the whispering knot of men in the light of the just-risen gibbous moon.
     
                  He slowly drew his sword and whispered to Fual: "Get your knife ready. Keep close to me and cover my back."
     
                  His shield was still in the duffelbag, but for fighting on an unsteady deck one needed a free hand to grab things.
     
                  "You—you're going to attack six men?" quavered Fual.
     
                  "Lyr's barnacles! Should I wait for them to cut my throat?"
     
                  "But six—"
     
                  "Our only hope is to rush them. If it makes you any happier I'm frightened too, but I prefer a small chance to none."
     
                  Fual's teeth chattered. Vakar inched caterpillarlike along the deck aft hoping to get close enough to overhear before the crew noticed him. As he neared the mast he