"Oh, no. Pardon my remissness, Captain Valkanhayn," Harkaman
apologized. "This is the _Nemesis_. The gentleman with me, Lord
Lucas Trask, is owner-aboard, for whom I am commanding. Lord Trask,
Captain Boake Valkanhayn, of the _Space Scourge_. Captain Valkanhayn
is a Space Viking." He said that as though expecting it to be
disputed. "So, I am told, is his associate, Captain Spasso, whose
ship is approaching. You mean to tell me that the _Enterprise_
hasn't been here?"
Valkanhayn was puzzled, slightly apprehensive.
"You mean the Duke of Wardshaven has two ships?"
"As far as I know, the Duke of Wardshaven hasn't any ships,"
Harkaman replied. "This ship is the property and private adventure
of Lord Trask. The _Enterprise_, for which we are looking, is owned
and commanded by one Andray Dunnan."
The man with the scarred face and hairy chest had picked up his cigar
and was puffing on it mechanically. Now he took it out of his mouth
as though he wondered how it had gotten there in the first place.
"But isn't the Duke of Wardshaven sending a ship here to establish
a base? That was what we'd heard. We heard you'd gone from Flamberge
to Gram to command for him."
"Where did you hear this? And when?"
"On Hoth. That'd be about two thousand hours ago; a Gilgamesher
brought the news from Xochitl."
"Well, considering it was fifth or sixth hand, your information was
good enough, when it was fresh. It was a year and a half old when
you got it, though. How long have you been here on Tanith?"
"About a thousand hours." Harkaman clucked sadly at that.
"Pity you wasted all that time. Well, it was nice talking to you,
Boake. Say hello to Garvan for me when he comes up."
"You mean you're not staying?" Valkanhayn was horrified, an odd
reaction for a man who had just been expecting a bitter battle
to drive them away. "You're just spacing right out again?"
Harkaman shrugged. "Do we want to waste time here, Lord Trask? The
_Enterprise_ has obviously gone somewhere else. She was still in
hyperspace when Captain Valkanhayn and his accomplice arrived here."
"Is there anything worth staying for?" That seemed to be the reply
Harkaman was expecting. "Beside poultry, that is?"
Harkaman shook his head. "This is Captain Valkanhayn's planet; his
and Captain Spasso's. Let them be stuck with it."
"But, look; this is a good planet. There's a big local city, maybe
ten or twenty thousand people; temples and palaces and everything.
Then, there are a couple of old Federation cities. The one we're at
is in good shape, and there's a big spaceport. We've been doing
a lot of work on it. And the locals won't give you any trouble.
All they have is spears and a few crossbows and matchlocks--"
"I know. I've been here."
"Well, couldn't we make some kind of a deal?" Valkanhayn asked.
A mendicant whine was beginning to creep into his voice. "I can
get Garvan on screen and switch him over to your ship--"
"Well, we have a lot of Sword-World merchandise aboard," Harkaman
said. "We could make you good prices on some of it. How are you
fixed for robotic equipment?"
"But aren't you going to stay here?" Valkanhayn was almost in a
panic. "Listen, suppose I talk to Garvan, and we all get together
on this. Just excuse me for a minute--"
As soon as he had blanked out, Harkaman threw back his head and
guffawed as though he had just heard the funniest and bawdiest joke
in the galaxy. Trask, himself, didn't feel like laughing.
"The humor escapes me," he admitted. "We came here on a fools' errand."
"I'm sorry, Lucas." Harkaman was still shaking with mirth. "I know
it's a letdown, but that pair of chiseling chicken thieves! I could
almost pity them, if it weren't so funny." He laughed again. "You
know what their idea was?"