The Tritonian Ring and Other Pasudian Tales Read Online Free PDF

taking me, sir?"
     
                  "And why not? Get along with you. But remember: You shall steal nothing except on my direct order!"
     
                  Fual, who had been a professional thief before his enslavement, departed looking thoughtful. It now occurred to Vakar that once they touched the mainland Fual could easily run away. He must try to learn more of what went on the mercurial Aremorian's mind; Fual's attitude towards him might make the difference between life and death.
     
                  A snuffling from the bedroom attracted Vakar's attention. Bili huddled sobbing under the blankets.
     
                  "Now, now," he said, patting her awkwardly. "You'll find another lover."
     
                  "But I don't wish—"
     
                  "You'd better, because there's no knowing when I shall return."
     
                  "At least you might ... " She rolled over, throwing off her blankets, and slid her plump hands up his arms. "Oh, well," sighed Prince Vakar.
     
    -
     
                  They paused as they topped the pass to look out over the irrigated plain on which stood sunny Amfer é . The spires of the city shone distantly in the afternoon sun on the edge of the blue Sirenian Sea. The capital of Zhysk was laid out as a miniature of mighty Torrutseish, with the same circular outer wall, the same sea-canal running diametrically through it, and the same circular harbor of concentric rings of land and water at the center.
     
                  Vakar twisted on his saddle-pad to look back at his convoy of two chariots, one carrying Fual and the interpreter Sret, the other the baggage. They were all splashed with mud from fording streams swollen by the melting of the snow on the higher peaks. Vakar rode horseback instead of in a chariot because, in a day when equitation was a daring novelty, it was also one of the few physical activities wherein he excelled. This was not entirely to his own credit, but was due in some measure to the fact that the average Pusadian, standing six to six-and-a-half feet, was too heavy for the small horses of the age. Though Vakar was small for a Lorskan, his boots cleared the ground by a scant two feet.
     
                  "Shall we be there by sundown?" he said to the nearest charioteer, who replied:
     
                  "Whatever your highness pleases."
     
                  Vakar started down the slope, slowly, for without stirrups not even an accomplished rider can gallop downhill without the risk of being tossed over his mount's head. Behind him the bronze tires of the vehicles ground through the gravel and squished in the mud. Vakar smiled wryly at the reply, reflecting that if he asked them if the tide would obey him they would no doubt say the same thing.
     
                  They drew up to the walls of Amferé at sunset, to wait in line behind an ox-cart piled with farm produce for the last-minute rush before the gates were closed. The people were tighter in coloring than those of Lorsk, lending support to the legend that a party of A tl anteans had set tl ed Zhysk some centuries back.
     
                  When Vakar identified himself, showing his seal-ring, the guard waved him through, for there was peace at the moment between Zhysk and Lorsk. Vakar rode for the citadel at the center of the city, meaning to sponge on the King of Zhysk. The citadel comprised an island surrounded by a broad ring of water. The palace and other-public buildings stood on the island, and the outer boundary of the ring formed the harbor, instead of three concentric rings as in Torrutseish.
     
                  When Vakar arrived at the bridge across the oversized moat (a bridge that had been the wonder of all Poseidonis when built, as the continent had never seen a bridge longer than the length of a single log) he found that