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that he might be resourceful.
Fafhrd took from him now his own quarterstaff, gripping it cross-handed near one end. He
made a few slow practice passes with it through the air, then handed it back to _Carp_'s mate and
stripped off his jerkin.
Lukeen's marines sniggered to each other at the Northerner handling a quarterstaff as if it
were a two-handed broadsword, but when Fafhrd bared his hairy chest _Squid_'s sailors set up a
rousing cheer and when Lukeen commented loudly to his second, "What did I tell you? A great hairy-
pelted ape, beyond question," and spun his staff again, the sailors booed him lustily.
"Strange," Slinoor commented in a low voice. "I had thought Lukeen to be popular among the
sailors."
Lukeen's sergeant looked around incredulously at that re-mark. The Mouser only shrugged.
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Slinoor continued to him, "If the sailors knew your comrade fought on the side of rats, they'd not
cheer him." The Mouser only smiled.
The gong sounded again.
Slinoor rose and spoke loudly: "A bout at quarterstaves with no breathing spells! Commander
Lukeen seeks to prove on the overlord's mercenary Fafhrd certain allegations against a Demoiselle
of Lankhmar. First man struck senseless or at mercy of his foe loses. Prepare!"
The ship's boys went skipping across the middeck, scattering handfuls of white sand.
Sitting, Slinoor remarked to the Mouser, "A pox of this footling duel! It delays our action
against Hisvet and the rats. Lukeen was a fool to bridle at the barbarian. Still, when he's
drubbed him, there'll be time enough."
The Mouser lifted an eyebrow. Slinoor said lightly, "Oh didn't you know? Lukeen will win;
that's certain," while the sergeant, nodding soberly, confirmed, "The Commander's a master of
staves. "'Tis no game for barbarians."
The gong sounded a third time.
Lukeen sprang nimbly across the chalk and onto the hatch, crying, "Ho, hairy ape! Art ready
to double-kiss the oak? First my staff, then the deck?"
Fafhrd came shambling out, gripping his wand most awkwardly and responding, "Your spit has
poisoned my left eye, Lukeen, but I see some civilized target with my right."
Lukeen dashed at him joyously then, feinting at elbow and head, then rapidly striking with
the other end of his staff at Fafhrd's knee to tumble or lame him.
Fafhrd, abruptly switching to conventional stance and grip, parried the blow and swung a
lightning riposte at Lukeen's jaw.
Lukeen got his staff up in time so that the blow hit only his cheek glancingly, but he was
unsettled by it and thereafter Fafhrd was upon him, driving him back in a hail of barely parried
blows while the sailors cheered.
Slinoor and the sergeant gaped wide-eyed, but the Mouser only knotted his fingers,
muttering, "Not so fast, Fafhrd."
Then, as Fafhrd prepared to end it all, he stumbled, stepping off the hatch, which changed
his swift blow to the head into a slow blow at the ankles. Lukeen leaped up so that Fafhrd's staff
passed under his feet, and while he was still in the air rapped Fafhrd on the head.
The sailors groaned. The marines cheered once, growlingly.
The unfooted blow was not of the heaviest, nonetheless it three-quarters stunned Fafhrd and
now it was his turn to be driven back under a pelting shower of swipes. For several moments there
was no sound but the rutch of soft-soled boots on sanded oak and the rapid dry musical _bong_ of
staff meeting staff.
When Fafhrd came suddenly to his full senses he was falling away from a wicked swing. A
glimpse of black by his heel told him that his next inevitable backward step would carry him
inside his own quarter circle.
Swift as thought he thrust far behind him with his staff. Its end struck deck, then stopped
against the cabin wall, and Fafhrd heaved himself forward with it, away from the chalk line,
ducking and lunging to the side to escape Lukeen's blows while his staff could not protect him.
The sailors screamed with excitement. The judges and officers on the afterdeck kneeled like
dice-players, peering over the edge.
Fafhrd had to lift his left arm to guard his head. He took a blow on the elbow and his left
arm dropped limp to his side. Thereafter he had to handle his staff like a broad-sword indeed,
swinging it one-handed in whistling parries and strokes.
Lukeen hung back, playing more cautiously now, knowing Fafhrd's one wrist must tire sooner
than his two. He'd aim a few rapid blows at Fafhrd, then prance back.
Barely parrying the third of these attacks, Fafhrd riposted recklessly, not with a proper
swinging blow, but simply gripping the end of his staff and lunging. The combined length of Fafhrd
and his staff overtook Lukeen's retreat and the tip of Fafhrd's staff poked him low in the chest,
just on the nerve spot.
Lukeen's jaw dropped, his mouth stayed open wide, and he wavered. Fafhrd smartly rapped his
staff out of his fingers and as it clattered down, toppled Lukeen to the deck with a second almost
casual prod.
The sailors cheered themselves hoarse. The marines growled surlily and one cried, "Foul!"
Lukeen's second knelt by him, glaring at Fafhrd. _Carp_'s mate danced a ponderous jig up to Fafhrd
and wafted the wand out of his hands. On the afterdeck _Squid_'s officers were glum, though those
of the other grain ships seemed strangely jubilant. The Mouser gripped Slinoor's elbow, urging,
"Cry Fafhrd victor," while the sergeant frowned prodigiously, hand to temple, saying, "Well,
there's nothing I know of in the _rules_..."
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At that moment the cabin door opened and Hisvet stepped out, wearing a long scarlet,
scarlet-hooded silk robe.
The Mouser, sensing climax, sprang to starboard, where _Squid_'s gong hung, snatched the
striker from the gongsman and clanged it wildly.
_Squid_ grew silent. Then there were pointings and questioning cries as Hisvet was seen.
She put a silver recorder to her lips and began to dance dreamily toward Fafhrd, softly whistling
with her recorder a high haunting tune of seven notes in a minor key. From somewhere tiny tuned
bells accompanied it tinklingly. Then Hisvet swung to one side, facing Fafhrd as she moved around
him, and the questioning cries changed to ones of wonder and astonishment and the sailors came
crowding as far aft as they could and swinging through the rigging, as the procession became
visible that Hisvet headed.
It consisted of eleven white rats walking in single file on their hind legs and wearing [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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