The Virgin of Zesh & the Tower of Zanid Read Online Free PDF Page B

knew where this beggar Gorbovast was, I’d walk.”
    When the driver dropped them at Gorbovast’s office and had been paid off, the Earthfolk had another half-hour’s wait before being ushered in.
    Gorbovast bad-Sár was an elderly Gozashtandu, his visage covered with tiny wrinkles and his hair faded to the color of pale jade. For decades he had sat behind this desk, serving as resident commissioner in Majbur, first to King Eqrar of Gozashtand and now to his successor, King Kudair. In addition, he fulfilled a number of other functions, some known to his imperial master and some not. He dabbled in the many business enterprises of Majbur. He helped out non-Krishnans who got into trouble. He furnished the Viagens security force with information. There had been talk of establishing a regular Terran consulate in Majbur, as there were in some other Krishnan cities. But nothing had been done, because it was thought that “Gorbovast can fix anything.”
    Gorbovast looked up from his mare’s nest of papers and said in accented but adequate English: “Good day, Madame Gorchakova. Good day, Doctor Bahr and Mr. Kirwan. I hope you are in good healt’?”
    Althea gasped. Bahr said, “Excuse me, my friend, but how did you know this lady?”
    Gorbovast smiled. “It is my business to know sings, sir. You arrived here more soon zan I expected. I suppose you still weesh to sail on ze Ta’zu day after tomorrow?”
    Kirwan said, “If you know so much, my man, perhaps you can tell if anybody’s following us?”
    Gorbovast made a negative gesture. “Alas, Mr. Kirwan! My information does not yet cover zat point. I do not know if Mr. Gorchakov is on ze trail of his run-off bride.”
    Althea shuddered. “Then,” said Kirwan, “we’d better get off on an earlier boat, d’ye get me?”
    Gorbovast looked dubious but pawed through his papers until he found one that he studied.
    “Hm,” he said. “Captain Memzadá sails wit’ his Labághti tonight for Darya via Reshr, Jerud, and Ulvanagh, wit’ a cargo of—mmm—never mind ze cargo. He could stop at Zesh. But he will leave wizzin ze hour, to take advantage of ze tide and ze offshore wind. Small ship, not so comfortable as ze Ta’zu —but if we hurry we could make arrangements.”
    The three Terrans exchanged glances. Althea said, “I don’t like to trouble you boys when you’ve done so much for me, but if there’s any chance of that horrible man . . .”
    “We’ll go tonight,” said Kirwan. “Right, Gottfried my boy?”
    “Well—ah—all right.”
    “I will accompany you to ze ship,” said Gorbovast.
    ###
    The harbor of Reshr, the first stop of the Labághti after leaving Majbur, sank below the horizon. Althea Merrick sat on the deck at the bow with her long legs curled under her and her back against the rail. Ahead, the emerald Sadabao Sea lay dark against the darkening evening sky. Aft, the huge lateen mainsail, striped with scarlet and gold, shut off most of the feverishly colored sunset. The forward-raking mast rose almost over Althea’s head.
    Below the lower edge of the bellying sail, Althea could see the after-part of the ship, with its smaller mizzenmast and sail. Captain Memzadá, gloomily silent, gripped his tiller on the little poop deck. The captain and the crew were all Daryava, speaking a dialect of Gazashtandu that Althea, despite her conscientious struggle with that language, could hardly make out.
    As soon as they had left Majbur, the Daryava had reverted to their native costume, consisting solely of a coating of grease. After the first half-hour, Althea no longer noticed their nudity. The grease gave the brawny skipper a look of a fine bronze statue. The faintly greenish Krishnan complexion aggravated this effect. She could not, however, entirely ignore the smell of the grease.
    The little merchantman wallowed sluggishly under her overload through a cross-swell. As the Labághti pitched, Althea’s view aft, between sail and ship, alternated between