The old gaffer on the dais broke into shrill whining laughter. "You have
drunk wi' him, Kyral, now he's bound you not to do him harm! I know the
story of Rakhal! He was spy for Terra twelve years. Twelve years, and
then he fought and flung their filthy money in their faces and left 'em.
But his partner was some Dry-town halfbreed or Terran spy and they
fought wi' clawed gloves, and near killed one another except the
Terrans, who have no honor, stopped 'em. See the marks of the _kifirgh_
on his face!"
"By Sharra the golden-chained," said Kyral, gazing at me with something
like a grin. "You are, if nothing else, a very clever man. What are you,
spy, or half-caste of some Ardcarran slut?"
"What I am doesn't matter to you," I said. "You have blood-feud with
Rakhal, but mine is older than yours and his life is mine. As you are
bound in honor to kill"--the formal phrases came easily now to my
tongue; the Earthman had slipped away--"so you are bound in honor to
help me kill. If anyone beneath your roof knows anything of Rakhal--"
Kyral's smile bared his teeth.
"Rakhal works against the Son of the Ape," he said, using the insulting
Wolf term for the Terrans. "If we help you to kill him, we remove a goad
from their flanks. I prefer to let the filthy _Terranan_ spend their
strength trying to remove it themselves. Moreover, I believe you are
yourself an Earthman.
"You have no right to the courtesy I extend to we, the People of the
Sky. Yet you have drunk wine with me and I have no quarrel with you." He
raised his hand in dismissal, outfencing me. "Leave my roof in safety
and my city with honor."
I could not protest or plead. A man's _kihar_, his personal dignity, is
a precious thing in Shainsa, and he had placed me so I could not
compromise mine further in words. Yet I lost _kihar_ equally if I left
at his bidding, like an inferior dismissed.
One desperate gamble remained.
"A word," I said, raising my hand, and while he half turned, startled,
believing I was indeed about to compromise my dignity by a further plea,
I flung it at him:
"I will bet _shegri_ with you."
His iron composure looked shaken. I had delivered a blow to his belief
that I was an Earthman, for it is doubtful if there are six Earthmen on
Wolf who know about _shegri_, the dangerous game of the Dry-towns.
It is no ordinary gamble, for what the bettor stakes is his life,
possibly his reason. Rarely indeed will a man bet _shegri_ unless he has
nothing further to lose.
It is a cruel, possibly decadent game, which has no parallel anywhere in
the known universe.
But I had no choice. I had struck a cold trail in Shainsa. Rakhal might
be anywhere on the planet and half of Magnusson's month was already up.
Unless I could force Kyral to tell what he knew, I might as well quit.