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throw four of the deadly little blades at a time: one with each flexible
wingtip, one with his beak, and the last with his remaining foot. All this
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with lethal accuracy while balancing on the artificial leg.
The remaining bright blue eye flicked back and forth between the
prisoners. Above and below the eye patch the
skin showed an unwholesome yellow where feathers were missing.
 These be all the crew of our prize?" He looked up at the first
mate, and Jon-Tom was surprised to see the powerful leopard flinch back.
Corroboc made eye contact with each of his own crew in turn.
 A brave bunch you are. A bloodthirsty death-dealing collection...
of infants!" His tail quivered with his anger. "Infants, the lot of you!" Not
only Sasheem, but the rest of the cutthroats were completely cowed by this
battered green bird. Jon-Tom determined not to cross him.
 Four against nearly a hundred, was it? A fine lot you are!" He
cocked his head sideways to gaze at the prisoners. "Now then. Where be you
four bound?"
 Just a few days out from the Tailaroam," Mudge volunteered
ingratiatingly. "We were just on a little fishin' trip, we were, and "
The wooden leg was a blur. It caught the otter between his short
legs. Mudge turned slightly the color of the captain as he grabbed himself and
collapsed on the deck. Corroboc eyed him indifferently.
 The Emir of Ezon has a tradition of employing eunuchs to guard
his palace. I haven't decided what to do with any of you yet, but one more lie
like that and you'll find yourself a candidate for the knife o' the ship's
doctor."
Jon-Tom tried to pick a likely candidate for ship's physician out
of the surrounding collection of cutthroats and failed, though he imagined
that whoever that worthy might be, he hadn't taken his internship at the Mayo
Clinic.
Mudge held his peace, along with everything else. The blue eye
fastened on Jon-Tom. "Perhaps you be smarter than your sour-whiskered
companion. Where be you bound, man?"
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 Snarken," Jon-Tom replied without hesitation. Corroboc nodded-
"Now, that makes sense, A sensible
THE DAY or THE DISSONANCE
one. You be a strange specimen, tall man. Be you from the region
o' the Bellwoods?"
 I am." He had to risk the falsehood. It was true enough now,
anyway.
The parrot blew his nose on the deck, sniffed. "Fortunately for
you I am in a good humor this morning." Jon-Tom decided he did not want to
encounter him when he was in a bad mood. "You two" he indicated Mudge and
Jalwar "can start cleaning out the bilges. That's a job long overdue and one
I am certain you'll find to your liking. Won't you?'*
Uncertain whether to say yes sir, no sir, or nothing at all,
Jalwar stood and shook in terror. Mudge wasn't up to commenting. Corroboc was
apparently satisfied, because he nodded absently before moving down to stare
fearlessly up at the towering Roseroar.
 As for you, I'd be pleased to make you one of my crew. Tis plain
enough to see you're no stranger to a life of fighting. You'd make a valuable
addition."
 Ah'll think it ovah, sun."
Good girl, Jon-Tom thought. There was no point in making the
pirate parrot mad with an outright refusal, though he found himself wishing
her reply hadn't been quite so convincing. Surely she wasn't seriously
considering the offer? But why not? Nothing bound her to JonTom. In fact, she
had reason enough to abandon him. Hadn't he yanked her unwillingly from her
homeland and involved her in dangers in which she had no interest? If she were
forced to throw in with some stranger, why not this captain as easily as some
unsteady, homesick spellsinger?
Spellsinger! He'd almost forgotten his own abilities. Not a one of
this band of murderers knew of his avocation. He prayed his companions would
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keep the secret and not blurt it out in a thoughtless moment. He was
particularly worried about the elderly Jalwar, but the trader stood petrified
and volunteered nothing.
As if reading his thoughts, the pirate captain turned his
Alan Dean Poster
attention back to him. "And you, tall man. What be you good for?"
 Well, I can fight, too." Corroboc glanced toward his First mate.
Sasheem muttered an opinion, reluctantly, "Passing well."
Corroboc grunted and Jon-Tom added, "I am also an entertainer, a
troubadour by trade."
 Huh! Well, 'tis true we could do with a bit o' song on this scow
from time to time." He gave his crew a look of disgust- "I gets tired o'
listening to the drunken prattling o' this uncultured bunch."
Fighting to conceal his anxiety, Jon-Tom went on. "My instrument's
on board our ship, along with the rest of our personal effects."
 Is it, now?" Corroboc was sweating him with that one piercing
eye. "I expect we'll find it in due course. You in a rush to demonstrate your
talents?"
 At your leisure, sir." Jon-Tom felt the back of his indigo shirt
beginning to cling damply to his skin. "It's only that it's a fine instrument.
I'd hate to see one of your refined crew reduce it to kindling in hopes of
finding gold or jewels inside. They wouldn't."
Corroboc snorted. "Rest assured they'll mind their stinking
manners." He addressed the leopard. "Take 'em below and lock 'em in the brig.
Let them stew there for a bit."
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 These two also?" Sasheem pointed to Jalwar and Mudge.
 Aye, the bilges will wait. Let them share each other's filth for
a while. By the time I decide to let them out they'll be clamorin' to get to
work."
This sophisticated sally brought appreciative laughter from the
crew as they sloughed away to their posts. The pirate ship turned westward
with the sloop trailing obediently behind it.
As they were herded below, Jon-Tom had his first glimpse of the
rowers. Most were naked save for their own
THE DAY OF THJE DISSONANCE
fur. They were a cross section of species, from humans to rodents.
All exhibited the last stages of physical and mental degeneration.
That's where we'll all end up, on the rowing benches, he thought
tiredly. Unless we can figure out some way out of this.
At the moment, entry into paradise seemed the more likely route.
If he could only get his hands on his duar, there might be a chance. However
fickle his spellsinging, however uncertain he was of what he might sing, he
was sure of one thing: he'd fashion some kind of magic. And the first try
would be his last. He was sure of that much. Corroboc wasn't stupid, and the
captain would give him no second chance to try his hand at wizardry.
Roseroar suddenly twisted to look back over her shoulder, one paw
going to her rump. The first mate was grinning back at her.
 Put yo hands on me like that again, cub, and ah'H make music with
yo bones."
 Gentle now, big one," said the amused leopard. "I have no doubt
you'd do just that if given the chance. But you won't be given the chance.
It'll go easier on you in the long run if you mind your manners and be nice to
Sasheem. If not, well, we have an ample supply of chain on this boat, we do.
Your heart may be made of iron, but the rest of you is only flesh and bone.
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Nice flesh it is, too. Think over your options.
 If I ask him nicely, Corroboc will give you to me."
She glared back at him. "Ah won't be a comforting gift."
Sasheem shrugged. "Comforting or unforgiving, it won't matter. I
aim to have you. Willingly if possible, otherwise if not. You may as well
settle your mind to that." They were herded into a barred cell. Sasheem
favored Roseroar with a departing smirk as he joined the rest of his
companions in mounting the gangway.
Roseroar sat down heavily, her huge paws clenching and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]