Masks of Scorpio Read Free Page B

seek shelter by the oncoming gale, wheeled and squawked in the preliminaries of settling down. The shafting light of the Suns lay low and bewilderingly, glittering up refulgently from the water.
    Selecting one of the islands we rounded to in a good depth of water off a yellow beach. Here we did as Pompino in his newly won nautical expertise had prescribed and dropped the hook.
    “A goodly shelter, this, far from prying eyes,” said Captain Linson. He was well pleased. He, it was clear, saw no sense in risking his ship in a combat against twice his number. And also, he like us could foresee the time when we’d come by charts of these waters, honestly or otherwise.
    When a ruffianly crew of us went ashore for fresh water and firewood, Pompino roundly declared that, by Horato the Potent, he would spend the night on honest solid ground. A tent-like shelter was rigged, the fires were started, and the ship’s cook, the superb culinary artist Limki the Lame, with his assistants, prepared our evening meal. An anchor watch was left aboard Tuscurs Maiden , and we had to promise them their partners would oversee their share in the gold.
    Sharing out the treasure!
    Ah! That was now the single most important fact in all the universe to this bunch of rapscallions.
    The apparition of Mindi the Mad vanished to our shouted remberees. We could not hear her speak when she was in this trance state that allowed her spirit to visit us, and we doubted if she could hear us, but being good Kregans we shouted the remberees in good heart. The two pursuing ships might snuffle about these scattered islands all night; we had no doubt that they’d never spot our fires, and if their captains had any sense, they, too, would anchor up for the rise of the Suns.
    The general opinion, heartily shared by Pompino and the Fristles, was that we ought to make camp here and spend some time reorganizing ourselves. Fresh water tinkled in the brook, game abounded, we were well-provisioned. This little paradise would mightily suit us for a spell.
    The chests were dragged across the sand and ranged in neat rows. The men clustered in the firelight.
    Their faces — well on the faces of the apims, members of Homo sapiens like me, the avaricious gloating could be plainly read. On the faces of those folk who were diffs, races of those splendid people of Kregen who are not fashioned like people of Earth, the expressions might differ. There was no doubt that everyone here looked forward with the keenest anticipation to dipping their hands into the gold and silver...
    Treasure!
    Well, I in my dour sour cynical old way anticipated trouble. I was right; but not as I’d anticipated...
    “We will do this thing according to immemorial custom.”
    “Aye!”
    The proportions to be taken by each and every person were regulated by rank, position and prowess.
    We had upward of two hundred thousand gold deldys to distribute, made up of various gold and silver coins. There was no rush. This could take all night and still the rascals would be on their feet with a flagon in their fists, gloating. Pompino stood on a chest with the list prepared by Rasnoli, his gentle Relt stylor, and read out the distributions.
    Each name was met with a cheer or a groan, a chorus of good-natured banter. The firelight glistened on flushed faces and whiskered cheeks, glittered in eyesockets, caught the rows of jagged teeth. Dayra and I stood together, a little in the background. She had brought the treasure to us, taken from the enemy led by Zankov; she would come into a handsome share.
     
    “Gold,” she said. “Ha — the Little Sisters should be pleased.”
    I did not inquire which particular set of Little Sisters she referred to.
    I did say: “In your own time, Dayra, you would do well to return to the Sisters of the Rose. They would welcome you—”
    “What do you know of them! You cannot tell me that!”
    “I do not seek to uncover the sorority’s secrets, my girl. But you could do worse than