Maske: Thaery Read Free Page A

perrupters jogged forward, and the entire half-finished wall, collapsing, bursting apart, tumbled down the slope. Stones struck Jubal, knocking him down. Hugging his head with hands and arms he curled into a ball, and rolled down-slope with the rocks. He fell over a ledge and frantically sought shelter.
    At the far side of the gap the rider halted his ercycle. Serenely he gazed down at the new rock-slide; then, giving his hat a twitch, he turned, and proceeded eastward. The perrupters followed at a trot. The entire column disappeared around a bend in the trail.
    The three Djan, convinced that work was finished for the day, returned to their location. An hour later Jubal, bruised and bleeding, with a broken arm, broken ribs, and cracked collarbone, crawled up to the trail. He rested several minutes, then heaving himself erect he staggered away toward Ivo.

Chapter 2
    In due course, Jubal again set out westward along the High Trail. At Mount Cardoon he spent ten minutes in contemplation of the new revetment, then continued toward Glentlin. After an afternoon’s detour south into Djanad he reached the village Murgen, and the next day crossed into Glentlin.
    At Droad House he found an affectionate welcome. Trewe urged him to remain upon the land, as bailiff and overseer. “We will build a new mole at Ballas Cove and a fine house on Junchion Meadow! Where is there a better prospect?”
    “I know of none,” said Jubal. “Still, I am restless; in all my life I have achieved nothing.”
    “Work and fatigue are well-known cures for restlessness! And what is achievement after all? Another name for vanity!”
    “I agree to all you say. I am vain and brash. I consider myself equal to the best, but I’d like to prove this belief, if only to myself.”
    “All very well,” argued Trewe, “but how and where? You know the difficulties, with twenty hands reaching for every plum. Also, never forget that you are a Glint among Thariots, hardly an advantage.”
    “True, all true. But I refuse to surrender before I am defeated, in fact before I have even tested my weapons. Would you deny me this exercise? And there is also another business which presses on my mind.”
    “The mysterious ercycle rider? A madman! Let someone else punish him!”
    Jubal snorted and shook his head. “When I think of him my blood boils, and I grind my teeth. He is no madman, and I will never rest until I touch him with a warrant.”
    “A serious risk. Suppose he wins the arbitration?”
    “Small chance. I can bring forward three witnesses, and other evidence even more damning. He will not escape.”
    “It is foolish to waste so much emotion! Think of Junchion Meadow, with its cliff and waterfall and forest: the land of the Droads. This should be the goal of your ambitions, not intrigues and warrants and stealthy dangers in Wysrod.”
    “Give me time! Let me work out my rage, then we shall see.”
    Trewe threw up his arms and would have spoken more, but a visitor was announced. “He gives his name as Zochrey Cargus.”
    “Cargus? Zochrey Cargus?” mused Trewe. “Where have I heard that name?”
    “Cadmus off-Droad’s mother was Cargus ilk.”
    “Well, bring him in; we’ll find what he wants.”
    Zochrey Cargus appeared: the Thariot litigator who a year before had pressed Cadmus off-Droad’s claims. On this occasion he declared himself not an adversary but a negotiator. He said to Trewe, with a look askance toward Jubal: “Our discussion might better be conducted in private, if you have no objection.”
    “This is my brother,” said Trewe. “There is no need for privacy.”
    “As you wish,” said Zochrey Cargus. “I will go immediately to the gist of my business. Perhaps you recall that I attempted negotiations on behalf of your unfortunate half-brother.”
    “I remember the circumstances, and I am surprised to see you again.”
    Zochrey Cargus spoke on, his voice suave and mild. “At the time I familiarized myself with the Droad lands,