The Ancient Enemy (15 page)

"But why? What has happened?"

"I am afraid that you completely took me in."

"I did what?"

"You deceived me so smoothly, that I believed you were the weaver of that fine 'Chooks and Beetles.'"

"But, I am the weaver of that 'Chooks and Beetles.'"

The Grys's face grew thunderous.

"Enough!" he barked. "You are not. It was woven by Pern Treevi's wife Iallia. I have sold it, I got a good price, and the money is going to Pern Treevi."

It fell on Thru like a hammerblow.

"What?" he said, feeling faint for a moment.

"You heard me."

"But, you can't do that. I wove that mat! That is my work, not Iallia's."

"Nonsense. Your work I have seen. It is acceptable, but only for floor mats, not for 'Chooks and Beetles.' My friend Pern Treevi showed me the evidence. He bought it on a stall not a hundred feet from here!"

"Yes, that is my work, but that is not all my work. I also did the 'Chooks and Beetles.'"

"Nonsense. You are a jumped-up peasant! I've heard all about you, Thru Gillo!"

"From Pern Treevi?"

"My friend Pern told me about your family. A lot of claim grabbers. Jumped-up woods poachers!"

"You do not know my family, Grys Norvory. You do not know me! Yet you take the word of Pern Treevi, my sworn enemy, and refuse to listen to my own words."

"You are from an interloping clan that has stolen a seapond in your own village."

"This is completely unjust."

"I have heard it all from Pern. Now I must ask you to leave."

"I have witnesses that the 'Chooks and Beetles' is my own work." Thru felt his heart hammering in his chest.

"What witnesses? Your family? Your notorious kin with their chiseling ways and conniving, thieving habits? There is nothing worse than a theft of a seapond, not for the House Norvory!"

"Others can be produced who have seen my work."

"But they cannot testify. You are not in the Dronned Guild, so you can just take your interloping ways and go back to your village and your thievish kith and kin."

"Grys, those are insulting words. To some they would constitute enough of an insult to draw a challenge. To me they are words of foolishness, of intemperate manners, the product of Pern Treevi's lies about me and my family. I will send you a copy of the legal writ produced for the trial held to adjudicate title to the seapond in question. Then I will demand your apology. If you refuse at that point, then it will be the sword."

"Get out!" snapped the Grys.

Thru stalked the streets for hours, angry beyond anything he had ever known. His work, his best work, his "Chooks and Beetles," had been stolen. Tricked out of him by the smooth-talking Grys Norvory, then sold on behalf of Pern Treevi. It was a sickening development.

After hours of wandering aimlessly, he found himself on top of the dunes just south of the city. Out beyond the bay the sun was setting and the golden light of evening had lit the dunes with a golden glow.

Life, which had seemed so wonderful at dawn, was suddenly filled with ashes and dust. The "Chooks and Beetles" was gone, and Thru was cut out of the deal, with no legal right to complain.

Somewhere inside of him there was a much younger Thru Gillo, who was close to tears. The theft was bad enough, but for Pern Treevi to profit in such a way was very hard to take.

And it was also pretty certain that Thru would be spending the winter back in Warkeen Village. He'd have to pitch in with the family work, and that would cut down on his time for weaving. Even if Merchant Ortenod honored his word and paid him in full for his "Leaf" pattern mats, it wouldn't be enough to set up a loom, rent a work space, and survive through the winter.

Suddenly he had a solution. He'd put the idea roughly aside before, but now he considered it more carefully. What about letting someone pay him to hit the ball! There were still a few games left in the season. What if he tried to make the Laughing Fish team? He might still make a few gold pieces and thereby be able to hang on in Dronned.

He came back from the despairing depths and pulled himself to his feet. He was still the Thru Gillo who had set the new all-time hitting record. That had to be worth something. He set his feet on the path down the dune toward the city walls. Mots and mors were at work in the vegetable gardens that lined the road, someone was singing a popular song, and others joined in on the verses. It helped to lift his spirits as he strode up to the south gate.

By the time he got to the Laughing Fish, the early-evening rush was on. Thru put his question to the second barkeeper and was referred to an office at the back.

"Thru Gillo, isn't it?" said the mot in the office. "I saw you hit very well that day. Took the championship away from us."

"I think we had our best game ever that day."

"And you want to know if we're interested in you as a paid player?" he guessed.

"Yes."

"Come with me over to the ball field, I'll introduce you to Rawli Perensa. He's the mot you want to talk to."

They crossed the street and entered the long narrow clubhouse that stood in front of the ball field. From the shelter of the long gallery the view of the field was excellent. There sat the worthies of the city who shared the passion for the bat and ball game.

The game that day was going well for the Laughing Fish, who were playing a village from up the valley. The village team were halfway out already and had scored only thirty runs. The Laughing Fish had the most prodigious young throwers, and they were taking a steady toll on the village batters.

In short order Thru was talking to Rawli Perensa, the owner of the Laughing Fish Tavern itself.

"So you'd like to play for the Laughing Fish?"

"Well, I don't like to play for money, but I need to earn some."

"I see." Rawli Perensa scratched his nose. "Well, we all remember what you did to us three summers back. Are you still a big mot with the bat?"

"Last time I checked."

"Then we'll try you. We'll pay two silver shillings for every run you score. How does that sound?"

Thru shook hands with Perensa on the deal.

As he left the clubhouse there was a sharp crack of bat on ball, along with scattered applause. The sounds made him feel stronger.

Two days later Thru Gillo turned out to bat for the Laughing Fish Tavern. The opponents that day were the much-respected team for Crown Gate Tavern, and this domestic derby game always drew a large crowd. The clubhouse gallery and the open-air benches were full. There were even folk standing all the way around the perimeter of the field. It had much the same atmosphere as his last stand there in that memorable championship match.

Crown Gate had batted first and run up a score of 102. Thru had done his share of huffing and puffing in pursuit of well-struck balls. Crown Gate's leading hitter, Ledrun Paff, struck thirty-one runs on his own.

Harli, the opening batter for the Laughing Fish, was also a famously strong striker, running up eighteen before being caught out the fourth time. The rest of the batting order followed, and succumbed to the trio of hard hurlers that Crown Gate had deployed. Leading them was a youngster named Ormo, who had a tremendous throw and great accuracy. Thru was the last mot up to bat and he needed to score twenty-seven runs to win the game.

The lively little bat from Fivver's workshop that he'd selected swung lightly in his hands as he took the first few balls. Ormo did indeed have a powerful arm. His throws came in with a special zip that could overpower most batters. Thru deflected away the first couple of throws from Ormo, but missed the third and heard a sharp
whuck
as the ball struck the red pole behind him.

No runs and already one of his outs was gone. He took a deep breath, settled into the kyo mindfulness, and waited. The next ball he caught cleanly with a tremendous stroke and sent it away with that ringing
crack
that always thrilled the crowd. It landed far past the four-hundred-foot line, giving him his first run of the innings.

Ormo stepped back for a breather and another thrower took his place. The first ball was too high and wide and whizzed back into the netting behind Thru. The next ball was in reach, and Thru stepped out and met it with a crushing blow that sent it even farther than the first run.

His eye was in. His kyo with the bat was a near-flawless system of movement that even Master Sassadzu would have found acceptable. The bat crushed ball after ball in an inning that soon had great outbursts of applause coming from the crowd. Thru Gillo was at bat, and the Laughing Fish were gaining fast.

His second out came at sixteen, another venomous ball from Ormo that nicked the bat on its way to striking the red pole behind him. The next out came on the twenty, when he skyed a ball, and it was caught. He had one out remaining.

There were still seven runs to strike to win, six to force a tie. Ormo came up for the fourth time. The first ball was very fast and Thru's stroke was a fraction too slow and the ball flew high. The crowd went silent. Crown Gate fielders scrambled to get below it for the catch, but it went so high it started to drift toward the run line. The fielders ran on in pursuit, two of them ran into each other and a third was too far away when the ball came down and bounced over the run line.

The Laughing Fish crowd breathed a giant sigh of relief.

The next ball from Ormo was straight down the line, Thru knew from the moment he stepped into his swing there was no room for error and was rewarded with that fat
crack
that spoke wonders in terms of runs.

The ball flew away and soared over the run line, still going up.

The crowd roared. People were standing all along the clubhouse gallery shouting and waving their fists.

Another ball flew, this time too high and wide to bother with. More inaccurate balls followed. Ormo had lost his grip for the moment. He stepped out and another thrower came up to the line.

Thru concentrated, let the flow run through him. The ball seemed to float for that crucial moment and his body went into motion and the bat connected again and drove the ball straight out at a terrific speed, slowly rising as it went. The fielders didn't even move, they all just watched in awe as it flew into the distance. The crowd let loose another roar, but they too were awed and the noise subsided more quickly this time.

Five more runs followed, against throwers who were rapidly losing confidence. As the last one lofted into the air, a huge roar went up as the game was won. Thru turned around and raised his cap to the crowd, then walked back to the clubhouse with the rest of the team rising to applaud.

Thru Gillo had stepped up and delivered. His reputation was secure. And afterward Rawli Perensa handed him a fat purse, stuffed with fifty-four silver pieces.

"I must say, on behalf of the entire Laughing Fish bat and ball club, how glad we are to have you on the team. That was a great performance."

Thru took the purse with the thought that despite his earlier disinclinations, hitting the white ball for money was not such a bad way to earn some silver crowns.

Afterward he celebrated with Nuza. They drank a bottle of Ulschadein wine, the most expensive in the house, and dined at the Laughing Fish.

At some point in the proceedings he noticed Toshak in the room, giving him a hard look. The great sword-fighter had been Nuza's lover until a few moons before and clearly still harbored strong feelings for her.

According to Nuza, Toshak had grown increasingly remote during their love affair. To her he would always be a great mot, head and shoulders above the rest, but she knew he could never give himself fully to another. She did not think that Great Toshak would ever be wed.

Thru did his best to ignore the hostility from Toshak. The other members of the troupe were pleasant company. Big Hob, the brilby who caught Nuza, was a cheerful fellow, who had been especially friendly.

While Nuza and Hob talked about her latest routine, Thru mused on the workings of fate. If he could keep on like this for the rest of the summer he'd earn enough to stay in Dronned for the winter at Kussha's place. He'd find a workroom outside the walls where he could weave a few high-end mats for next year's market.

He felt a grim chuckle go off inside him. Maybe he'd weave a mat for the Grys Norvory, a new take on "Mussels and Rakes," or "Brilbies at the Gate." Let him see that it was Thru's style in the "Chooks and Beetles" and nothing to do with Iallia Treevi. He had some ideas for "Mussels and Rakes" that were almost revolutionary, but right in line with what he'd done for "Chooks and Beetles."

Thru told himself that he hadn't completely failed in the market for mats. Merchant Ortenod had been very decent. When he heard the story about Thru Gillo's "Chooks and Beetles," Ortenod wrote a note to Thru explaining that he had given the affidavit of Thru's "Leaf" pattern mat to Pern Treevi quite innocently, with no ill will toward Thru. When Thru went to drop off the last three "Leaf" mats, Ortenod confessed that he'd been shocked by the Grys Norvory's behavior, but warned that no one would stand up against the Grys, who was very powerful in the Dronned guilds.

Ortenod had paid in full, as he'd promised. Thru, reassured, had left him the remaining three mats to sell at the next market, which would be held during the Harvest Moon.

Now, sipping ale in the Laughing Fish Tavern, he calculated that he had about two hundred shillings in his account. It was more than he'd ever had before, but by his calculations it was just enough to get him through the winter in Dronned. He just needed somewhere secure, where he could set up a couple of looms and start weaving. He'd also need some money for good materials. Golden grass and red tash were never cheap, and he already had an idea for using them heavily on his new "Mussels and Rakes." Next spring he would show the Grys Norvory how wrong he'd been.

Feeling satisfied that despite everything he was still progressing toward his goal, Thru treated himself to a dish of sweet bewbie pie to finish his meal.

Later he went back with Nuza to her lodgings for the night. The house owner had not objected, used as she was to Nuza's unusual ways. Not many mors of the Land were so free with themselves, and most preferred to be married young, but Nuza was an adult, and free to make love to whomever she wanted. Certainly there was no law to prohibit her from doing so. She was also free to bear the consequences in terms of difficulty in obtaining marriage back in her home village.