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order them. A mass attack would only
lead to a thou-sand deaths for everyone we have had tonight. There are nearly
five thousand of our friends in those buildings. Somehow they must be
released."
Slowly, Grayth got to his feet. Deya's thought pictures came so clear to his
mind that it seemed almost that he must avoid the old oak which stood by the
flagged terrace where he had eaten dinner, and the charging Drunnelians behind
their shields. The last of Car-ron's green-cloaked legionnaires was down. They
would not use their glow-beams on the speakers; Grayth knew with a terrible
cer-tainty that they would not use them on Deya and Thera.
Grayth reached to his forehead and touched the little stud of the crown he had
donned. Carron watched him in surprise, started after him as he walked out of
the shadow of the tree into the full light of the flames. "Stay there,
Carron," Grayth called. Then he was striding across the last of the lawn onto
the flagged pavement of the square. He stood still for a moment, as a
half-dozen glowing beams lanced toward him, to die soundlessly against the
invisible sheath of his crown. The beams stopped. Drunnel stepped toward him,
till he stood in the forefront of his little force.
"What terms, Drunnel?" Grayth called. The sheath seemed to drink in his voice,
but somehow Drunnel had heard.
Drunnel laughed softly. "And may I ask, why terms? Why should I want terms
from you?"
"Because you have no real desire to destroy these men in the buildings."
Grayth nodded to the silent watchers in the windows facing the square.
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"Because you only want to make sure that I do not escape and because you
cannot hold me. We have captured a score or so of these crowns the Mother gave
you. With them I, a score or so of my men, Deya, Thera and a few others can
leave you. We will have time and opportunity then to do something more,
perhaps. But certainly I can find my way to safety on this world you cannot
ever hope to search, though the Sarn Mother her-self should aid you."
Grayth looked at Drunnel steadily, wondering if Drunnel had, of course, any
way of knowing how many crowns had been captured intact. One, at least, he
knew. And he had no way of knowing that Deya and
Thera were even then arguing with a group of shielded men led by Barthun.
"What do you want?" Drunnel spoke after a moment's silence, broken only by the
crackling lap of the flames, the restless creak of ancient houses crowded now
with men.
"The men that fought for me go free, every man or woman or child you have
surrounded, captured or blockaded. I will surrender to you."
"I do not like your terms." Drunnel laughed. "You cannot escape from this
point now; the outer ring of my men would stop you."
Grayth shook his head. "You know better than that. What offer will you make?"
"I will release these men and women of no importance; but I will demand your
surrender, and that of
Bartel, Carron, and the spokes-men of the districts." Drunnel stood out before
his men, his dark eyes flashing, a smile of sweeping satisfaction on his face.
"And that is concession enough for what I hold in my hand this night. What
fight have you, Grayth? Your men are bottled between my inner center here, and
my outer ring. And the fire spreads in be-tween.
"A clever trick your water was, and clever enough that hurling of rocks, but
it gains you nothing. I have more sense of realities than you, Grayth. I don't
lay humanity open to the anger of the Sarn Mother, and she is just. She
appreciates and aids those who aid her.
"Your futile air guns have merely tempted your men into a clos-ing trap. You,
who have never seen a book on military strategy, never practiced warfare,
hoping to defeat one tutored by the gen-erals of the
Sarn! You may be wise enough in working the minds of cattle such as these in
my burning pens but for practical matters your knowledge is nothing.
"Well, what do you say, Grayth? I'll release these men, these stu-pid
followers of a stupid leader but the leaders must face the Mother."
Grayth shook his head. "We are not caught. We are quicksilver under your
fingers, escaping as you try to hold us. Bartel you want for personal reasons,
personal hatred, as you want me. I will surren-der to you if you will swear by
the name of the Mother, by Kathal Sargthan herself, that my people, including
all others save only my-self and Bartel, shall be free and undisturbed.
Bartel, I except with his consent and catch him if you may! You claim your
ring tight "
Drunnel stared at the tall figure of his enemy. Quicksilver under his fingers,
to slip through the teeth of his closing trap. Bartel
"Let Bartel join you, then," he called carelessly. "The sheep will fall apart
in squabbles when the goats are gone." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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