"An aged member argued to move cautiously. After all, you might never reach Kuromon, the hazards of sea travel being what they are. If you did get there, the Kuromonians might thwart your efforts to filch their secret or punish you for trying. Some of their punishments are most unpleasant, such as staking you out and causing one of the Emperor's elephants to tread upon you. If you got the instrument despite all odds and survived the voyage back to Kwatna, that were time to lay an ambuscade. They ought to assign the members in rotation to keep awatch on Kuromonian ships and to scout such ships by their familiars whilst they be still at sea."
"What was the outcome?" Kerin asked.
"I know not, for I was compelled to flee. Janji's bir, or hantu as they call them here, returned from a tour of the drink shops, where he had been stealing a few drops from each drinking vessel. Still furious over my broken promise, he chased me forth. Had he not been so drunk, I could not have lost him."
"Let's hope the cautious elder's advice prevails," muttered Kerin. "And now, another task. I wish you to examine the Temple of Bautong from capstone to crypt, taking careful note of its structure so I can draw an accurate plan."
"But Master Kerin!" protested Belinka. "The balimpawang—the other one, that is—will have familiars at his command! They will assail me, or at least alert the wizard to my presence."
"Not necessarily. He said he had dismissed his spirits when exiled, and belike he hasn't yet replaced his spooks. In any case we must chance it; so go!"
"But wherefore this sudden interest in temple architecture?"
Kerin sighed. A familiar spirit might be handy to have, but not one who argued every step. "My princess is imprisoned in the Temple of Bautong, where Pwana means to sacrifice her in some abominable rite. I'm told Nogiri is in a chamber atop the tower. To get her out, I must know the structure's plan."
"Master Kerin, you are mad! I'll not permit it! If you succeed, you will have been untrue to Adeliza; if you fail, you will have thrown away your life!"
"Belinka," said Kerin sternly, "I have made up my mind. So go study the temple!"
"I will not! You cannot compel me!"
"If you don't, I'll go myself and try to break in. I shall probably be slain; whereas with knowledge in advance, I shall at least have a better chance. Which shall it be?"
"I said I won't—"
"Then here goes." Kerin rose, strapped on his sword, and fumbled in his bag.
"Oh, you pig-headed monster!" cried Belinka. "I'll go, since you force me. But you shall rue your contumacy! If I suffer scathe, it will be all your fault!" She zipped away into the darkness.
Kerin settled himself to think. Jorian had warned him: Ere you begin any perilous emprise, take time to think. Imagine what every step along the way will entail and formulate a plan to cope therewith. Then imagine what could go wrong at every step, and make alternate plans for such events. The only thing worse than entering upon an adventure with no plan is to go in with a plan you have become so fond of that you cannot bear to change it, even if it leads you to destruction.
Fortunately for Kerin, he was not one whom such advice repelled. While not altogether free of youthful impulsiveness and recklessness, his character leaned more towards the prudent and judicious.
First he had to gain access to Nogiri's room. Locked doors and windows offered no great obstacle, thanks to Jorian's picklocks, whose use he had practiced. But first he had to get to the chamber. If he went up inside, that meant evading the guards and priests, or somehow rendering them harmless, as by a drug or spell. If that would not work, he would have to ascend outside. Having no wings or flying broomstick . . .
Then, supposing he got the princess out of the temple, they must needs flee to the
Tukara Mora
. So he would have to make sure that, first, the gangplank was out and the crew warned of his arrival; and second, that his possessions were already aboard, since he would have no chance to go back for them. And Nogiri would need accommodations. . . .
Next day, Kerin came to Balimpawang Klung's door with a roll of paper. It had taken him hours to locate a source of paper, since the Salimorese were not a highly literate folk and there was little demand. When he located a source, it turned out not to be the familiar rag paper but a brown local product made from palm fronds cut and glued together in a press. As before, Belinka remained outside when Kerin entered the house.
"Here," Kerin told Klung, "are the plans of the Temple of Bautong. Here is the chamber wherein Nogiri is immured, over thirty feet above ground."
"Interesting," said Klung, "but why bringst these plans to me?"
"Because I shall want your help in getting her out ere Pwana slay her."
"My dear young man! I mind not helping a worthy youth in everyday matters, but ye ask me to interfere with one of the deadliest sorcerers our fair land hath produced. Why should I endanger myself for you or Princess Nogiri? It is not as if ye had put me in your debt. If anyone owes you a favor, it is Pwana, for fetching him from his isle. But ye ken how much succor to expect from that source. Certes, for a Sophi's ransom I might consider it; but I misdoubt ye have enough wealth to tempt me from the path of prudence."
Kerin pondered. "I doubt if the money I fetched from home will last me out the journey, be I ever so thrifty. But perchance I could be useful to you in other ways."
"How so?"
After another pause, Kerin said: "Belike I could help you at the forthcoming election in your guild. I've seen how such things are done in the Republic of Vindium, and in mine own Kingdom of Kortoli we elect a House of Burgesses to control public expenditures. My father served a term as a burgess."
Klung shook his head. "Salimor is no republic, like those I hear of in the Far West, where candidates for office harangue the rabble from street corners. Ye would only antagonize the members by exhortations, being not only a nonmember but, in their eyes, a mannerless foreigner to boot."
Kerin pondered. "Know you of the Kuromonian navigation device, which the Navigators' Guild so fears?"
"I ken somewhat thereof. What is your connection therewith?"
Kerin told of his troubles with Janji. "Come to think, those Kuromonian ships in harbor must bear the device. Has none sought to buy or steal it?"
"Yea; but the Kuromonians keep it locked up in a secure part of the ship, whereto only the captain and a few trusted officers have access. Well?"
"If I smuggled such a device to Salimor, wouldn't it be of value to you?"
"Why? No sailor, I."
"But if the navigators so fear it, wouldn't it augment your power amongst the guilds?"
Klung took time to answer. "Now that ye mention it, belike it would. It hath been proposed to choose a single superbalimpawang over all the guilds affiliated with mine own: the Navigators', the Diviners', and the Healers'. The guilds' balimpawangs oppose the change, fearing diminution of their power. Had I this device, methinks I could swing at least the navigators; or belike get the navigators and Irapat, the head of the Merchants' Guild, bidding against each other for it. . . . I'll do it! Present the device on your return from Kuromon, and ye shall have mine unstinted aid in rescuing your lass."
"But sir!" cried Kerin. "I may not be able to return thence until long after the lady have been offered to Pwana's dark deities!"
Klung sighed. "Ever some fribbling difficulty! Had ye some vasty treasure to leave as security. . . ."
After an hour's haggling, they agreed that Kerin should sign an agreement making him Klung's bondservant for one year in case he returned from Kuromon without the navigating device. Klung wrote the contract in both Salimorese and Novarian. Knowing that Wejo the guard was literate, Kerin insisted that Wejo read off the Salimorese version, while Kerin followed the Novarian version to make sure that they were equivalents.
"Now for details," said Kerin. He spread out the sheets of palm-leaf paper on which he had drawn plans of the temple. "Here's the princess. Inside, Belinka tells me, all corridors are guarded, especially the stair that winds up the tower. Could you cast a spell of immobility upon these men, or drug them?"
"Nay; the temple is shielded by potent counterspells."
"Could you then make me invisible, as Pwana did to himself when he left us?"
"I could; but then ye were bounden to strip naked lest your garments seem to enter the temple by themselves; and for the same reason ye could not bear any weapon. Besides, the counterspell would cancel your invisibility as ye neared the temple. Furthermore, I could not so ensorcel the princess whilst she were in her chamber and I on the ground outside."
"Then, methinks, I must invade Nogiri's chamber from the outside, if I can get up there."
Klung pursed his lips. "It would take a monstrous ladder to reach the third story. I warned Pwana that so tall a building invited the wrath of the underground dragon whose twitchings, they say, cause earthquakes. But Pwana scoffed; his vanity insisted upon the tallest structure in Kwatna. The setting up of the ladder would surely arouse those within. Couldst climb the wall, using the decorations as handholds?"
"I might, if the decorations were ornate enough all the way up; though I haven't seen such intricate masonry on Salimorese buildings. But even if I could, I doubt if Nogiri could clamber down by the same route."
"She could cling to your back."
"I doubt that even more. Not sure am I that I could find holds for hands and feet, and a hundred-odd pounds on my back would render the task hopeless. Hast no flying broomsticks, such as the mightiest Western magicians use, like Sir Fendix of Othomae?"
Klung shuddered. "I have heard of such utensilabes, but we have none in the archipelago to my knowledge. I am told their use be most exhausting, leaving the flier fordone for days."
"Not so bad as that—"
"Besides," said Klung firmly, "I am not fain to risk my aging, gorbellied self by swooping through the empyraean astride a slender stick. The mere thought fills me with horror.''
"Well then, have you one of those magical ropes, animated by a Second Plane entity to spring upright on command? My brother once escaped execution by such means."
Klung pondered. "Aye, now that ye remind me, methinks such a device doth indeed lie amid the clutter in my storage room. I have not used it for many years. For one thing, only a handful of houses in Kwatna have more than one story; for another, I am not the lithe young athlete I was forty years ago." The balimpawang smiled reminiscently. "When I was a lusty, lecherous youth, I employed the rope to offer my—ah—services to ladies fair in lofty quarters." He sighed. "But I have long been respectably wived, and . . . Master Kerin, art wed?"
"Nay, sir."
"Had ye been, ye'd understand why I would not roil domestic tranquility for amorous adventures."
"If the rope be so long unused, wouldn't you have to recharge its spell?"
"Aye; the entity would long since have leaked out and decamped. But think ye simply to march into the temple grounds, set up the rope, and climb without causing attention? If I know Pwana, he will have the grounds patrolled."
"Then," said Kerin, "let's devise a distraction. Couldst ignite a magical fire or something of the sort?"
Klung tapped his chin with his forefinger. "Methinks I can do better. My stable of spirits includes an Eighth Plane entity. I can compel it to take on your aspect and make a disturbance at the door, or as near to the door as the counterspell allows."
"A doublegoer, as we call it? What's needed to evoke such a being?"
"Evocation is easy; the hard part is teaching it to play the role of Kerin the Novarian convincingly. Oh, Wejo!" he called.
"Aye, Master?"
"Tomorrow I shall not be available for consultations. For the benefit of clients who can read, write a sign telling them to return anon, and turn away any who present themselves. For emergencies, refer them to my colleague Pawang Banting; I shall send him word to cover for me." He grinned slyly at Kerin. "I should never have let you lure me into this birdbrained scheme, but the chance to do the accursed Pwana one in the eye were too seductive to resist."
"One thing more," said Kerin. "I still have Malgo's little ship and some of's loot. How does one sell them at the best prices in Kwatna?"
"Why not hire your own crew and sail the ship to Kuromon and back?"
"I am not expert enough. 'Tis by the grace of Psaan, our sea god, that I sailed her hither from Kinungung with no worse disaster than a temporary stranding. So how best to dispose of her?"
"Ye need an auctioneer. In my youth, ere I entered my present profession, I apprenticed at that trade. Belike I could manage your emprise—naturally, for a commission."
"How much?"
Klung pursed his lips. "One quarter of the price."
"Oh? Back in Novaria, the going rate is ten per centum." Kerin knew something of auctions from his experience in the family clock business.
"Belike," said Klung, "but this is not Novaria. Save that I like you, I should ask half or at least a third."
Kerin did not altogether trust this genial if vain and garrulous magician, even though Klung had shown more candor than was usual in his secretive profession. On the other hand, he might run a worse risk with any other Salimorese. As a lone foreigner in a strange land, he was somewhat at the mercy of anyone with whom he did business. Besides, the
Tukara Mora
would soon sail; so he ought to take what quick profit he could and get out.
"Agreed, twenty-five per centum," he said.
Next morning, assured by Belinka that Nogiri was still in the tower chamber, Kerin remained aboard the
Benduan
long enough to examine the loot in the hold. He picked out an especially fine kris, with a jeweled hilt; probably the one Malgo had worn. Kerin, who had been warned that such a weapon was forbidden to lower-class persons, found its balance quite different from the swords he was used to. Having only a blunt point, it was intended purely for cutting.
Still, he coveted it as a souvenir of his journey. So he wrapped it in a fancy cloak and shoved the bundle into his bag. He also sequestered a gaudy silken sash with a pattern of red, green, and yellow stripes. There seemed to be no such thing in Salimor as a pair of trews with loops for a belt to hold them up. The Salimorese made do with a sarong, a wrap-around skirt or kilt held up by the friction of the rolled overlap or by a sash.