Shame of Man by Piers Anthony

The musicians, dancers, and historians made their way separately to the palace, where a private banquet was being prepared for them. Huuo discovered cute Leda walking beside him. “Aren't you with the lyre player?” he inquired.

  “We have a date for the night,” she said. “But there is still the evening. You played just perfectly for me; my emotions were in your melody. I would just love to give them back to you in style. Are you sure—?”

  He gave her a friendly goose, and she rode with it, smiling, though she desired a good deal more than this token familiarity. “Too much time with you, and I would forget my wife. I must not risk that.”

  “You have the quaintest way of turning a girl down. But there will be other days.” Leda smiled again and walked off, moving her hips provocatively.

  It was a good thing, he thought, that she hadn't realized how effective her approach had been. She was one delicious morsel that it would be all too easy to sample. He probably shouldn't have goosed her, though courtesy had required it; her tight buttock was almost unbearably compelling. The emotion of the play had worked him up, making him prey to speculations he would normally have ignored. Next year he would have to see that Annai came with him.

  The banquet was excellent, and now the members of the troupe could eat and drink their fill, having completed their performance. Tomorrow they would be traveling to the next of the five major cities for their second performance. The complete tour would take ten days. Then they would be free to return with honor to their homes, having brought the festival to Philistia in proper fashion.

  As he sought to return to his chamber for the night, replete with a full belly and somewhat dizzy from the copious wine, a servant intercepted him. “Seren Jaoch would talk with you.”

  Huuo was not so dazed as not to feel a chill. He had almost forgotten the interview of the evening before. Well, he would simply have to tell Jaoch no, as diplomatically as he could, and hope the lord did not take it too unkindly.

  Soon he was back in the private room, this time without food set out. Seren Jaoch greeted him in hearty fashion. “I trust you found the repast satisfactory?”

  “More than satisfactory, lord,” Huuo agreed, rubbing his distended belly. “Your hospitality exceeds any elsewhere.”

  “I admired your playing today. Your flutes screamed so aptly for the maiden I almost thought it was her voice. You are excellent at more than melody.”

  “Thank you. It is a very special occasion.”

  “I would like you to join my court, to play for me. To be my chief musician. The style of life you have seen here would be yours throughout.”

  Now the crisis was upon him. “You are more than kind, lord. But my wife—”

  “Your wife and children would be welcome also, of course. I understand she is a rare dancer.”

  “Yes. But her allegiance—our allegiance—is to our home city. Her family members, our friends—it would be very difficult for us to leave Mor. So while I very much appreciate your most generous offer, and have no wish at all to offend you by seeming ungrateful, I must say that I don't feel free to accept it.” He braced himself for the likely consequence of his rashness in refusing this powerful man.

  But Jaoch merely smiled. “I understand. I would not wish to cause any distress for such an admirable musician. Go with my blessing, and if ever you change your mind, know that you will be more than welcome here in Gaza as long as I remain in power.”

  “I appreciate that very much,” Huuo said, vastly relieved. He had feared that it would not be safe to turn down the offer. “I shall certainly acquaint my wife with your invitation, and perhaps her mind will differ from my expectation.”

  “Perhaps it will,” Jaoch agreed. “I wish you a good night, and a good continuing tour. I know they will appreciate you in the other cities as we have appreciated you here.”

  So Huuo found himself back at his chamber, his knees weak. Apparently his alarm had been for nothing; the seren's invitation had been complimentary rather that coercive. He knew that Annai would never have agreed to depart her dear home city. She loved to travel with him when they could, but always returned to their home. Her roots were there. And so, perforce, were his. No amount of good living elsewhere could make up for the slightest distress it caused her.

  It was dark in his room; the servants must have been too busy with the banquet to attend him with a lamp. That was all right; he had relived himself at the palace refuse chamber, and now was ready simply to sleep off his overindulgence. He felt for the bed and climbed on.

  And encountered a soft rounded body. “What—?”

  “Ah, you are back,” the dancer said. “Good.”

  “Leda, I told you—”

  “The lyre player overimbibed, and finds himself not in condition tonight to perform as he had hoped. I am doing him the kindness of leaving him alone in his illness. So I am free to be with you after all. I thought perhaps—”

  He would have to get rid of her again, and it wasn't getting any easier, either as a matter of politeness or one of desire. “No. I am in reasonably poor condition myself at the moment. I must ask you to depart, much as I know I will regret this in the morning.”

  She sighed. “You're a hard man to approach.”

  “No, I'm merely wary of getting involved with a creature so luscious she would likely make me forget my music and embarrass myself at the next performance.”

  “Oh, I wouldn't want that!” she said, laughing as she got off his bed. “But if you should change your mind, just give me a signal, any time.”

  “What, in the middle of a performance?”

  She laughed. “Not unless you want to put on the bull suit. Then, however—”

  “No bull suit,” he said, lying down. “I am no Baal.”

  He heard her depart. Something about the encounter nagged him. He reviewed their dialogue as well as his somewhat wine-addled mind could, and managed to catch it: it was her comment about changing his mind. There were women who would be angry at being rejected, however politely, but she had merely acceded, perhaps being too young and nice to harbor much outrage. His vague prior image of her was as a most persistent girl, but that was obviously false. She remained open to his interest, should he change his mind. Very much as Seren Jaoch was. So twice in one evening Huuo had been surprised by amicable acceptances instead of ugly reactions. It was of course coincidence, and fortunate for him.

  Reassured by that realization, he slept.

  Zebub appeared at his lord's summons. “You were right,” Jaoch said gruffly. “He declined.”

  “And the girl? What's her name, Leda?”

  “Her, too. Three times today. She reports that even when he goosed her, his fingers didn't stray. The man is constant.”

  Zebub shook his head with wary appreciation. “I suspect he is the only man who ever turned that vamp down even once in a day. She looks so—”

  “I know how she looks! I confess my defeat. You told me that the usual methods would not prevail with this musician, and he has proved your point. In the process he has shown me that I want him more than ever, for once he pledges faith with me, he will never violate it. So I must with regret go your route. But I am baffled how you think your sister can prevail where Leda failed.”

  “My sister is beautiful too, and more experienced, and she does not accept defeat as lightly as Leda does. Scylla can force a flush or a tear or a tremble of lip or hand at will. She can make her pupils grow large and innocent. She has a sense of timing and nuance that can lead a man opposite to the direction he thinks he is going. She can show flesh without seeming to that nevertheless incites instant hunger in a man. I myself feel guilty when I oppose her, though I know her tricks. Leda, in contrast, has not yet learned that that beauty must sometimes be buttressed by determination and cunning. She's too nice.”

  “I'm sure that is not a fault either you or your sister suffer from,” Jaoch said dryly. “She will in any event keep trying. But you do have your uses. Do what you have to do to persuad
e him, but with one caution: no taint of it must adhere to me. The musician must never suspect that I had anything to do with it, other than being ready to receive him as supporter and friend.” He glanced sharply at the other. “You do understand the consequence of failure in this aspect?”

  “The same as failure in the mission itself,” Zebub said grimly. “But we don't expect to fail. We expect to bring Huuo willingly to this court, and receive the rewards of success.”

  “I would despise you more than I do, were you not at times so useful.”

  “And I would not serve you, were I not sure of the manner you honor a deal, whether positive or negative.”

  “How very nice that we understand each other so well,” Jaoch said with irony. “But you shall have your price, if you succeed: appointment as my tax collector, and the return of your sister to this court without prejudice.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “My respect for the musician is such that I almost hope you fail.”

  “I shall do my best to disappoint you in that.” Zebub made a half-mocking salute and departed.

  Jaoch remained alone for a time, as he had before. The man disgusted him in much the manner of a rotting fly-ridden carcass. But the musician was a treasure he simply had to have: highly skilled, and trustworthy by both hand and nature. He had not asked how Zebub's sister Scylla hoped to change Huuo's mind and bring him here, but he was sure it was no way he would have arranged himself. He wanted to remain innocent at least to this extent, lest the knowledge poison the association he hoped to have with Huuo.

  Crystalech was uneasy. “Something evil is afoot,” she told her husband Carverro. “I just know it.”

  “What, in the daylight?” he asked, looking up from his fine metalwork. “What could happen, short of a siege of the city?”

  “I don't know, but I fear it.”

  “Then perhaps you should stay home today, Crystal, and not go to the market. We can get by.” She had given up correcting him about her name, and increasingly everyone was calling her by the abbreviation, Crystal.

  “No, today the hill folk bring in their cattle for sale and slaughter. I must be there to put in a bid while the meat is plentiful and cheap. Any other day I might skip, but not this one day of this month.”

  He nodded. “I had forgotten. You are right; we would go hungry if we did not shop expediently. Then perhaps I should come with you.”

  “No, for then we would have to bring Desert Flower along, and she would be exposed to the danger. I will go alone, and be alert.”

  “As you wish, my love.” He had learned not to oppose her when she got a notion, for sometimes her premonitions became true. He had come from a hill tribe himself, and had abducted her as a lovely girl of the valley. But the men of her city had surrounded them before he could bear her away, sealing his fate—until Crystal had amazed him by claiming he was her lover on a tryst. She had saved his life, and married him, and even brought his aging mother to the city to live in comfort. From that time on he had been absolutely devoted to her, and never seriously opposed her will. And, she had to admit, she had made a good choice, for his talent as an artisan was now providing them with a secure if not wealthy life. His hill-folk ways had almost disappeared, and they had a fine lovely daughter in Desert Flower.

  And, she thought as she walked through the native quarter of the city toward the market section, she had been fortunate in finding employment with a liberal Philistine family. Huuo and Annai did not treat Canaanites with contempt or condescension; in fact they had welcomed Crystal much as they would a family member, and encouraged her to bring Desert Flower to play with their own children. So just as Crystal had won her husband's complete devotion and loyalty by her actions toward him and his mother, so had her employers won her own respect and even love. They were good people, and never would she knowingly betray their interests.

  She was early for the bidding, perhaps hurried by her vague concern. Her husband tended to doubt her intuitions, but she did not; something terrible was threatening. If only she knew what!

  She crossed the market street and mall, seeking the shade of one of the trees that lined the public center. Beyond it she could spy the separate houses of the aristocrats and honored artisans; their villas had the place of honor closest to the ceremonial center, with its temples and the residence of the seren. The Philistines held music in very high esteem, and Huuo was a very good musician despite being reverse-handed. Sometimes he played his flutes at home when Crystal was there, and Annai would dance, showing her children how to do it. Chipp was becoming a fair little musician, and Minah a dancer who would be a marvel when she was grown. Desert Flower, the same age, was learning to dance too, though of course she would never be allowed to do it in a Philistine ceremony, being Canaanite.

  She heard the tramping and lowing of the cattle, as they were driven into the city and along the street toward the market. The poor beasts didn't know they were to be auctioned and slaughtered. They would be fat from grazing the mountain pastures, and somewhat wild too, but the herdsmen and dogs would keep them in line. However, there were usually extra guards assigned to the section on cattle market days, bearing staves, just in case. Noise and staves could turn cattle back and set them milling, so that they didn't stray into the wrong section of the city. She didn't see any guards at the moment, but they were surely there. It was a normal precaution.

  The crowd of prospective buyers was gathering. Crystal walked back that way. She would not get the first or best, but she would certainly be better off than those who waited for the cuts to be retailed by the greedy meat merchants. She didn't enjoy watching the actual slaughter, but it was the only way to be sure that an inferior carcass wasn't substituted after the sale.

  Suddenly there was a stir on the street. Men shouted with dismay, and there was a scrambling as people tried to get out of the way. Crystal looked, and saw that the cattle were stampeding. Somehow the animals had been spooked, and the herdsmen were ineffective in controlling them. But the extra city guards should be ready.

  The cattle charged down the street, throwing off all restraints. It was as if they had realized that this was their place of doom. Where were the guards? Crystal still couldn't see any. There were only the herdsmen, running along beside the cattle, screaming imprecations, unable to turn them back.

  Then she had to scramble for her own safety as the lead bull veered toward her. She got behind the trunk of a tree and saw the beast charge by, followed by the others. She heard the screams of townspeople as they realized that the animals were out of control.

  Worse, this represented a breakdown of order. Immediately the criminals were appearing, using the distraction to rob unnerved people and break into houses to steal their valuables. It was a sad commentary on society that the moment there was any disturbance or confusion, the robbers and looters appeared. They were mostly Canaanites, she knew, claiming that they deserved anything they could get from the privileged conquerors. Yet the conquest had been 200 years ago; it was no longer an issue. It disgusted Crystal to see depravity in her own people.

  Now fires were starting in the city, and she knew the cattle weren't setting them. What a disaster had been set off by the chance spooking of a cow! One fire was fairly close; it must be one of the villas. Naturally they were among the first targets of the criminals. They robbed, killed, and burned to cover their traces.

  Fairly close? Crystal felt an ugly chill. Her employers’ house was in that direction. Could it be?

  Hoping it was not, but fearing that it was, she ran in the tracks of the stampeding cattle, looking for Huuo's house. Of course it would be a terrible thing for any house, but especially for that one. Her premonition . . .

  She got a stitch in her side from running, and had to slow down, catching her breath. But she was already close enough to see that it was one of those houses. Dread surged; the closer she got, the more certain it was that it was Huuo's villa. She blinked her eyes, trying to make it some other ho
use, but the terrible vision would not be shifted.

  At last she stood by the blaze. It was her employer's house—hopelessly burning. Even if the fire crew arrived soon, it would be too late; the fire was too fierce. The looters must have torched it in several places, to make it burn like this.

  Others joined her, confirming the worst. “Hill folk!” they cried. “They came through after the cattle. We came out to try to fight them off, but they had already pillaged this house, and they saw us and ran on toward the city gate.”

  “But what of Annai? The children?” Crystal asked. “They were home today; I know it. I was going to go there after I made my purchase.”

  A Philistine neighbor spoke. “They were there,” she said grimly, “for I consulted with Annai within the hour.” Her mouth grew tight.

  “Then where are they now?” Crystal demanded, almost forgetting her subservient place before the Philistine woman. “Did they go before the trouble started? This will be a terrible thing for them to find on their return!”

  “Annai was schooling the children in protocol,” the woman said. “They were not going anywhere.”

  “But—” Suddenly Crystal's terrible premonition surged forth, almost overwhelming her. “They can't be in—”

  The Philistine woman abruptly turned and walked rapidly toward her own house, her shoulders shaking. She did not care to show grief in front of people beyond her own household. Her Canaanite servant shook her head sadly.

  “No!” Crystal cried. “They wouldn't stay in there!”

  “Not if they lived,” the servant woman said.

  Crystal paused for a moment of utter horror. Then she leaped for the burning house. But two women intercepted her and hauled her back. They had evidently anticipated her reaction. “You can't help them,” one said. “The hill brigands must have killed them first.”

  “And set the fire to hide the crime,” the other said. “But we came out before they got away, so we know the crime. We saw them hauling rolled rugs of valuables. If we had had men to pursue them—”