The Quest of Kadji Read Online Free PDF Page B

old man, lean and bony, in the grey robes of a wizard. A small, timid, inoffensive old man he seemed, with worried and watery eyes, slitted in the Easterling fashion, his yellowy head shaven but for a black queue, his hands buried in the capacious sleeves of his wizard robes, which, Kadji saw, were soiled and patched and tattered. This was odd, for the House of the Seven Moons catered most obviously to those whose purses were well-stuffed with gold coin. But there was no time to dwell on this peculiarity now, for events were exploding into a quarrel.
    The mousey little wizard had been pattering down the narrow aisle between the crowded benches when his lean and bony shanks collided with the outstretched legs of the noisy, red-faced young lout of a kugar . The old man, his head bowed on his chest in deep thought or meditation, had not spied the spread-out legs of the drunken and offensive young lordling, and he had stumbled over them. Squealing in dismay, the wizard staggered, tripped, and nearly fell. Thrusting out his hands to steady himself, he had the bad luck to strike the kugar’s arm just as the surly young lordling was hoisting a full goblet of fiery liquor to his lips. When he joggled the lordling’s arm, the cup went flying, and so did the expensive purple beverage therein.
    The kugar surged to his feet with an inarticulate roar of rage, and stood there with fire gleaming in his bloodshot, piggish, squinting little eyes, while the purple brandy dripped from his soaked japon and velvets.
    Now, as, attracted by the disturbance, Kadji looked up, It was to see the poor old wizard shrinking beneath torrents of verbal abuse, fumbling for apologetic words, frightened gaze roaming about, while the burly young lordling, who towered over him with one red hand clenched on the hilt of his curved sabre, bellowed the vilest and coarsest insults at the old man from the top of his voice.
    The little wizard was confused and bewildered and stammered for polite words; the kugar , younger by twenty years and taller by half a yard, glared down at him, red-faced and roaring, little pig-eyes fierce and brilliant and alive with the pleasure of a born bully.
    “You foul-breathed, toad-hearted, stinking lump of dung! Dirty my boots, will you! Kick my feet out of your way, will you! Stinking gob of an Easterling whore! I’ll wash my boot-leather in your filthy blood, you white-gutted old turd!” roared the red-faced young lordling.
    “Highborn and most noble lord;” the timid little man protested, stammering in alarm and gazing about with frightened eyes as if to enlist the aid of the others in the hall, “I swear to the Gods I mean no harm! This lowly and most insignificant one intended no insult to your lordly self! Ten thousand apologies if this vile one has given offense! I beg you—I pray you—accept these humble apologies, and permit an old man to pass and take his weary bones to bed!”
    His bleating tones were drowned beneath the bullthroated bellow of the kugar . And, as they wandered in pitiful pleading from face to face, meeting only indifference or derision, the frightened eyes of the little wizard came at last to rest on the face of Kadji.
    “Pass, is it, you reeking lump of filth! To your bed, eh? Not likely, pig of an Easterling—more like, to your grave!”
    And the kugar clapped his hand again on time hilt of his sabre and made to draw it from its scabbard of oiled leather. But he did not. For a hand seized his wrist and held it in a grip like iron. Kadji’s hand.
    iii. The Honor of Cyrib Jashpode
    THE ROOM became silent as death, save for the sussuration of indrawn breath as many men sucked in their teeth, and the muted thump and clatter as men moved away to clear a space.
    “You touch me . . . you dare to lay hands upon me!” The face of the young kugar lordling went pale with astonishment and he stared as if marveling into the grim serious eyes of Kadji.
    Kadji spoke in low, quiet tones, and his words were