Mercenaries of Gor

"I thought so," said the fellow, decisively. "Thank you, Citizen." "That is all right," I said. "You are sure you have not seen Cicek?" "No," he said.

"Maybe she is in the other direction," I said. I turned about and started down the tu

"Enter an alcove," said the man. "Keep the tu

"Do you know a good one?" I asked.

"Move," he said.

"Very well," I said. I saw no point in being disagreeable. They were all probably nice enough.

I moved back down the tu

I heard, in a few Ehn, a soft whistle behind me. It carried well in the tu

I had then come again to the area of Alcove Twenty-Six. It was well down the tu

It is normal practice, in a situation of this sort, to separate the enemies, meeting first one, and then the other, substituting two one-to-one conflicts, so to speak, for one two-to-one conflict. This works best, of course, when one can see what one is doing. Too often, darkness neutralizes skill; too often chance thrives in darkness. There are, of course, tactics for fighting in the darkness, such as misdirection, the casting of pebbles to encourage an opponent to make a move, the use of back kicks, giving extension to one's striking capacity while providing a minimum exposure of vital areas, the attempt to lure a blow from a distance, with full-arm knife probes, to encourage an opponent to lunge and overextend himself, and so on, but, in the true darkness, very different from what commonly passes as "night fighting," there is probably no really satisfactory way to reduce risk levels to tolerable limits. I prefer to avoid it. Accordingly, in entering the tu

I stuck my head out of the alcove. "Who is there?" I called, as though alarmed. "Is there anyone there?" Who is it?"

I then heard another whistle, from my right, toward the entrance to the tu

"Who is there?" I called again, once more as though alarmed.

"Do not fear," called a voice, from the right. "We mean you no harm. Are you Tarl, of Port Kar?"

"Yes," I said. "I am he!"

"We have a message for you," said the voice.

"Yes," I said.

"Remain where you are," said the voice. "We will bring you the message." "You are certain that you mean well?" I inquired.

"Yes, yes," said the fellow to the right, soothingly. I could now hear the small sound of the metal, presumably a knife, on the stones, coming from my left. Did they really think I would believe that two fellows were needed to deliver a message?

"I am not certain of that," I said.

"Do not be alarmed," said the fellow to the right.

"You have a message for me?" I asked.

"Yes," said the fellow to the right.

"I am drawing my sword," I said. I then withdrew the blade from the sheath a good deal more noisily than was necessary. I did not want them to mistake the sound. I thought that that would give them something to think about. I wanted them to be somewhat alarmed. Then, when I sheathed it, they might be inclined to act more swiftly, more precipitately. "We are friends," said the fellow to the right, in the darkness. In there intentness, in their hunt, in the darkness, I did not think they would be keeping track of the alcoves. They would, in any case, have had to feel carefully for them. They would be thinking, I expected, only in terms of the tu

"Sheath your sword," said the fellow on the right.

"No," I said.

"We will then not deliver the message," he said.

"Very well," I said.

"But we must deliver it," he said. "It is a matter of life and death." "That sounds serious," I granted him.

"It is," he assured me.

"From whom does this message come?" I asked.

"From the regent himself," said the fellow.

"I see," I said.

I doubted, personally, that the regent would be sending me messages, and, if so, that he would be doing it in this fashion. I was prepared to believe, however, that the business to which these fellows were about might have its origins in individuals close to the regent. Their mention of the regent, of course, convinced me that they were not common assailants, after a purse.

Run-of-the-mill brigands would surely refrain from allusions so dubious and exalted, allusions so incredible that they would be sure to put a normal fellow on his guard.

"How may we convince you of our good intentions?" he asked. I heard him come a foot or so closer. "I would consider that to be your problem," I said. "Not mine." I heard the fellow on the left come a little closer.

"Are you armed?" I asked.

"We will slide our knives, sheathed, along the tu