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toward the ship. He backed up against the cabin, then turned and ran to the other side of the
ship. More cannibals! Waves of them! He saw Durki hung over the railing and swatted the apprentice
across the buttocks with the plank. "Awake, there, crewman! Arm yourself!"
Durki moaned, opened his eyes and saw the golden beach and trees of the village. "Land! Dry, hard,
solid land!" He smiled, pulled himself over the railing, and fell into the shallow water with a
smack. Pulsit looked down to see Durki wading toward shore.
What is this? Do I command nothing but cowards? Do the gods test my courage with these things?
First one brown hand, then another and another grasped the railing. Pulsit smacked one with his
plank, heard a curse, followed immediately by a splash. "Hah! Defend your heathen selves!" Pulsit
ran up and down the railing, smacking hands with the plank and glorying in the curses and sounds
of bodies falling into the drink. "If he need must, John Fine shall take on your entire cannibal
nation!" For a moment, no new hands appeared on the railing, and Pulsit leaned over the side to
see the last of the dark natives wading away from the Queen. The old man raised a fist toward the
shore and shook it. "I am Captain John Fine, cbmmander of the Honor Bright! I cannot be defeated!
I say this to you: Send me more cannibals!"
He tossed his head back to laugh, then felt strong arms grasp him from behind. He turned his head
to see dark faces and shaggy heads swarming over the deck. / am captured! The plank was taken from
his hand, and he felt himself being moved to the other side of the ship, lifted over the railing,
and lowered into waiting brown arms. Still, I am John Fine! "Hear me, you heathen devils!"
"I beg your pardon!" answered one.
"Do not trust your mouths when they water for this body! You shall choke on John Fine!" Pulsit
laughed, then became quiet as a great darkness came over him. Those who carried him exchanged
puzzled looks, then shrugged and headed toward the beach.
Even though he eyed the food suspiciously and had developed the habit of jumping at the slightest
sound, Pulsit
appeared well enough by that evening to join his companions at Azongo's table. Coppers were
exchanged for the repast, and Durki felt blessed as he enjoyed the packed feeling of the first
solid food he had been able to hold down for days. But, recalling his own screech of a voice, he
listened with envy as Azongo conversed in rich resonant tones. As a pause in the conversation
came, Durki nodded toward the headman. "I would give much to have been born with a voice such as
yours, Azongo."
The headman laughed, exposing a glare of teeth filed to needle points. "So would I, storyteller.
But, I was not born with this sound. It came only after long practice for my wild man act."
Durki looked around the table, then turned back to Azongo. "Since we are finished eating, I.would
lay a few coppers in your palm to see your act."
Raster waved his hand and shook his head. "I've seen several wild man acts, and they are good
sleeping aids, but nothing for an evening's entertainment. They couldn't scare a child."
Azongo raised his eyebrows. "And, freak, would you care to wager your coppers on that?"
"No, but I'll stake a jug of sapwine against a jug of this cobit brew of yours." Raster held up
his cup.
Azongo rubbed his chin, then nodded. "Done." He reached forward and extinguished the oil lamp in
the center of the table, leaving only a single lamp on the wall to illuminate the room. He stood,
turned his back on his dinner guests, and removed his robe. "Hhuurrraaaaggh!" Azongo leaped about
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in a crouch, his body scarred and tattooed in bright, fantastic patterns, his face contorted such
that his eyes and filed teeth seemed larger than life. In the flickering half-light of the lamp,
there was little doubt that the creature before them was a primitive, unreasoning machine of blood
lust, coiled and ready to strike. Azongo leaped over-the low table and landed next to Raster with
his hands held forward, claws extended. "Aaarrrgggh!"
Raster backed up against the adobe wall of the room. "Very well, Azongo! Enough!"
The headman relit the table lamp, collected his coppers and sapwine, then returned to his place.
Pulsit watched all of this, but kept his silence. The natives are restless. When
the time is ripe, I *must try to convince them that 1 am a god.
Raster shook his head. "Even the wild man act of the Tarzak freaks does not compare to your
performance, Azongo. If you came back with us to the Central Continent, you could gather coppers
by the sackful."
"Indeed."
Raster nodded. "But the act is only better, not very different." He rubbed his chin. "What you
need is a victim. Play out a drama of life-and-death." Raster nodded again. "Yes, that would put
the act in the Great Square in Tarzak."
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