"Trade goods?" the Tsugg said with a note of indignation. "Just because yer partner has a dirk at me back's no cause to make mockery of me. I plundered it from the Five-eyes all open and aboveboard, so help me."

"Sorry," Retief said. He withdrew the arrow from the loam, fitted it to the bow experimentally.

"You're not by chance a member of Hoobrik's band, are you?" he inquired offhandedly.

"Too right it's not by chance," the Tsugg said emphatically. "I went through the Ordeal, same's the other lads."

"Lucky we met," Retief said. "I'm on my way to pay a call on His Truculence. Can you lead me to him?"

The Tsugg straightened his 290-pound bulk. "Tell yer crony to do his worst," he said with a small break in his voice. "Fim Gloob's not the Tsugg to play the treacher."

"It wasn't exactly treachery I had in mind," Retief demurred. "Just ordinary diplomacy."

"Yer threats will avail ye naught," Fim Gloob declared.

"I see what you mean," Retief said. "Still, there should be some way of working this out."

"No outsider goes to the camp of Hoobrik but as a prisoner." The Tsugg rolled his shiny black eyes at the Terran. "Ah, sir-would ye mind asking yer sidekick not to poke so hard? I fear me he'll rip me weskit, stole for me by me aged mums it were, a rare keepsake."

"Prisoner, eh, Fim? By the way, I don't have a sidekick."

"That being the way of it," Fim Gloob said carefully, after a short, thoughtful pause, "who'd be the villain holding the blade to me kip glands?"

"As far as I know," Retief said candidly, "there's n.o.body here but you and me."

The Tsugg turned his head cautiously, peered behind him. With a grunt of annoyance, he snapped a finger at the offending bough.

"Me and my overactive imagination," he snorted. "And now," he went on, turning to Retief with a scowl-

"Remember, I still have the bow," Retief said pleasantly.

"And a mort o' good it'll do ye," Fim snarled, advancing. "Only a Tsugg born and bred has the arm to draw that stave!"

"Oh?" Retief set the arrow and with an easy motion pulled until the arrowhead rested against the bow, the latter being bent into a sharp curve. Another inch-and the stout laminated wood snapped with a sharp tw.a.n.g!

"I see what you mean," Retief said. "But then the Groaci always did produce flimsy merchandise."

"You... you broke it!" Fim Gloob said in tones of deep dismay.

"Never mind-I'll steal you a new one. We have some ladies' models in the Recreation Kits that ought not to overstrain you."

"But-I'm reckoned the stoutest bowman in the band!"

"Don't give it another thought, Fim. They'll love you when you bring in a live Terry, singlehanded."

"Who, me?"

"Of course. After all, I'm alone and unarmed. How could I resist?"

"Aye-but still-"

"Taking me in as a prisoner would look a lot better than having me saunter in on my own and tell Hoobrik you showed me the route."

"Wouldst do such a dirty trick?" Fim gasped.

"I wouldst-unless we start immediately," Retief a.s.sured the Tsugg.

"O.K." Fim sighed. "I guess I know when I'm licked. I mean when you're licked. Let's go, prisoner. And let's hope His Truculence is in a good mood. Otherwise, he'll clap ye on the rack and have the whole tale out of ye in a trice!"

4.

A few dozen heavyweights lazing about the communal cooking pot or sprawling in the shade under the striped awnings stretched between the trees looked up in mild interest as Retief appeared on Strukeback, Fim Gloob behind him astride his Vorch, glowering ferociously as he verbally prodded the lone Terran forward.

"Ho, that's far enough, varlet!" he roared. "Dismount, whilst I seek instruction o' His Truculence whether to h'ist ye out of hand, or ha' a bit o' sport wi' ye first!"

"Ha, what be this, Gloob?" a bulky outlaw boomed as Retief swung down from the saddle. "An Off-worlder, I trow!"

" 'Tis no Oberonian, 'tis plain," another offered. "Mayhap 'tis a two-eyed variety o' Five-eyes."

"Avaunt ye, rogues!" Fim yelled. "Clear the way! I've fetched this Terry here to divert the great Hoobrik wi' his saucy sayings!"

"Saucy sayings, is it! I've had enough o' yer own saucy sayings, Gloob! Methinks I'll split the creature on the spot!" The speaker drew a giant cutla.s.s with a whistle of honed metal.

"Stay, Zub Larf!" a mountainous Tsugg in soiled yellow robes bellowed. " 'Tis but dull, idling here in camp. I say let's see a sample o' the oddling's tricks, ere we slit his weasand."

"Here, what pa.s.ses?" a familiar baritone cut through the clamor. A large Tsugg in a red sash pushed through the mob, which gave way grudgingly, with much muttering. The newcomer halted with a jerk when his eye fell on Retief.

"Methinks," he said, "I've seen you before, sirrah."

"We've met," Retief acknowledged.

"Though all you Terries look alike to me..." Dir Blash fingered his jaw gingerly. "Meseemeth 'twas in the Street of the Sweetmakers..."

"So it was."

"Aha! I've got it!" Dir Blash clapped Retief on the shoulder. "My boon companion! Ah, bullies," he addressed his fellows, "this Terry gave me a shot of something with a kick like a Vorch-though for the life of me I can't recall the precise circ.u.mstances. How wert thou yclept again, sirrah?"

"Retief. Lucky you have the kind of memory you do, Dir Blash; your compatriots were just debating the best method of putting me out of my misery."

"Say you so?" Dir Blash looked around threateningly, his hand on the hilt of his cutla.s.s. "n.o.body murders my drinking buddies but me, wot thee well, me hearties!" He turned back to Retief. "Say, you wouldn't chance to have any more of the same, would you?"

"I'm saving it for a special occasion," Retief said.

"Well, what could be more special than a reprieve from being staved out on a zing-wasp hive, eh?"

"We'll celebrate later," Retief said. "Right now I'd appreciate a short interview with His Truculence."