Chapter 6

Strides-Tall had to admit that she had enjoyed performing for the Dyals, and had relished the attention when they allowed her to stay and share their meal, the elf stalking up and down the table and helping herself to wine and food from whatever plate she wanted. When she got back to her room, however, she cast aside those pleasures and focussed solely on preparing for escape, dressing in the daring leather harness and semi-transparent shirt, whilst carefully bundling up her vinyl boots, wrapping them in silk scarves and stowing them away in the satchel she had found.

She added a few new acquisitions to the contents of the bag; a couple of rings, a bracelet, even a small pouch of jewels, all pick-pocketed from drunken Dyals who hopefully would not miss their belongings until she was long gone. She had learned that the ship would reach port in the morning, and if she was lucky, too many of the crew would be sleeping off the previous night's revelries to get in the way of her break for freedom.

I had fun, and helped myself all at the same time, she realised. I better not rely on having any more good fortune tomorrow.

Strides-Tall then willed herself to sleep, setting an inner mental alarm that would wake her after only an hour. It was just enough to refresh her, whilst ensuring she did not sleep through her best chance for escape, and she spent the remaining few hours listening to the sounds of the Dyal vessel, apparently some kind of space-craft, familiarising herself adequately with its hums and purrs so that she would immediately notice any change, suggesting that the ship was coming into port.

Once I'm off the ship, I go to ground quickly, then try and find myself another ship that'll get me as far away as possible, she decided. As long as I'm heading away from Golath and Kattan'Gyar, I should be fine...

The moment came almost before Strides-Tall was fully prepared.

The purr of what the elf assumed was the ship's engines decreased, almost to the point of being inaudible, and for the first time she got some feeling that the vessel was actually moving. For a brief time she felt uncomfortably heavy, as though gravity had becoming momentarily stronger, and a minute or so after that, there was the dull, distant sound of metal against metal...

Now familiar with the mechanism, the adventuress flicked the lock open in seconds. She listened at the door for sounds of movement - especially the clanking of armour - but there was little to hear. Seize the moment, girl, she told herself, and slipped out into the passage.

Quickly, she scampered along to the central chamber, and found a shadow to hide in. One of the large metal hatches she had noticed before, the one to the left, was open now and let in what she hoped was sunlight. A walkway with metal handrails extended down from the hatchway, and onto what appeared to be a wooden quayside, where humans and other races were moving cargo and striking deals. This is it, thought Strides-Tall. Here we go...

Just as the elf was about to make her break for freedom, three figures came up the gangplank - the Battlemaster, another armoured Dyal, and an almost spherical human in rich robes, so many rings on his fingers that he could not make fists.

"So, what do you have for me this time, Honoured Warrior?", asked the man. "Another little star you've plucked from the heavens...?"

"Perhaps", said the Dyal leader. "I have however been informed that this one is very special. She was taken from the palace of Mashilahantradar herself, and word has reached me that the girl is the source of the most exquisite helq'sha ever brewed. Her price, therefore, will be a very high one..."

You'll have to catch me first, Strides-Tall said to herself, and she made her move...

The Dyals, and their visitor, did not even know the elf was there until she was almost upon them. She leapt into the air, planted her hands on the top of the Battlemaster's head, flipped up over him, and landed on the railing. Balancing on the rail, she then slid all the way down to the quayside, and was lost in the crowd before Astl'Aar could raise the alarm.

"Little bitch!", spat the warrior-chief, staring in disbelief into the throng. "Bartaan, assemble a capture detail! Find her!"

The other Dyal turned to call out other warriors, but the fat human shook his head. "No need, Lord Astl'Aar", he said, smiling broadly. "I have just the individual to find your runaway..."

The slave-trader stepped out onto the gangplank, and looked towards a shadowy alleyway. He nodded, and a huge figure, almost as tall as the roofs of the warehouses to either side, emerged from the darkness. At the sight of this fearsome creature, a tawny-skinned giant with a single ivory horn rising from his forehead, the dock-workers either froze in fear, or ran for their lives.

"A...a Shr'Ganti?", gasped the Battlemaster. "Can you trust it..."

"...not to eat your precious little girl?", finished the fat man. "Of course. We have a special arrangement that ensures his quarry's safety..."

"You feed him the girls no-one wants to buy", said the Dyal with great certainty.

The slave-trader nodded. "There is no better hunter of men - and women - than those who prey upon them", he said, and went down to the dock to speak to the giant. The creature nodded, bent down to sniff at the gangplank rail and the planks of the quayside. Strides-Tall's scent strong in his nostrils, the giant began tracking the fugitive girl, scattering dock-workers and merchants in his path.

It was some time before Strides-Tall could breathe easily again, and savour her first breath of freedom in who could tell how many days. It's not over yet, she reminded herself, looking out of her darkened alleyway at the world she had dived headlong into to escape her captors. I don't think I was followed, but I can't be careless now.

Kattan'Gyar was a fascinating place, like a picture from a history book brought to life. It was a world from a time before machines, cars, telephones - yet there seemed to be electricity, for some of the shops had what looked to be neon signs flickering and buzzing over their doors.

The most astonishing artifact of all was a gigantic glowing sphere, an artificial sun on the top of the tallest tower in the city. The light from it was enough to bathe the streets in a dim light, but was insufficient to blind anyone who looked directly at the device.

This is one very odd world, she thought, as a carriage, drawn by a team of what looked like large, striped antelope, rattled by. Bits and pieces from different times, different worlds...

Strides-Tall's first order of business was to arrange some money. Choosing a small out-of-the-way shop, she quickly struck a deal for the rings, receiving a pouch of "Trading Gold" - small, thin golden squares with rounded corners - for each. She offered the shopkeeper the gems as well, but he advised her to hold on to them. "Easier to carry than a sack of gold", he told her, and she saw the wisdom in his words.

Some freely-transferable currency in her possession, Strides-Tall hurried around, assembling a kit of essential items. Jeweller's tools were one of her priorities, never knowing just when she might need a tiny file, chisel or pair of wire-cutters, and she managed to find them surprisingly easily. Either there're a lot of jewellers in town, or a lot of thieves, she thought. Both, by the look of things...

It would have been so easy to let the shopping bug take hold, but Strides-Tall knew she could not stay in town for long. The Dyals would surely be searching for her, and she needed to put as much distance between her and her kidnappers as possible, as quick as possible.

"Where'd you want to go?", the shopkeeper who had sold her the tools enquired when she asked about ships out of Kattan'Gyar. "Fort G'Taran? Freeport? Dortilask?"

"I don't really know", she admitted. "I'm...new around these parts."

"Aaah - a foundling", the merchant said knowingly. "Freeport's your best bet, then. They have a hostel for newcomers there. Now, would there be any special arrangements...?"

"Such as...?"

"You might wish to avoid any...ah, legal difficulties", said the shop-keeper. "Forgive me for prying, but you don't seem like the sort who'd be making jewellery, if you'll forgive me, a humble merchant, for being so presumptuous."

Strides-Tall smiled back at him. She had dealt with this kind of fellow before, back home, and knew that whilst they existed on the ragged edge of legality, they would not betray a kindred spirit. "I would like some - shall we say - privacy", she said.

"Western Docks, pier fifteen", the merchant almost whispered, even though there was no-one else in his shop. "The man to look for is Dallian Phershac. He sails when the Orb's light is lowest, and he's quite partial to a pretty face. If you need some place to, ah, wait, I can direct you to a handy spot or two."

The shopkeeper then took the adventuress into the rooms behind the counter, and showed her to a back exit. He also recommended that she should disguise herself, and to that end she bought a functional hooded cloak from him, which she threw on before she left.

"Take care, miss", advised the shopkeeper. "Lord Serpentine's realm is quick to punish the careless, and Kattan'Gyar is no exception - it's maybe even worse than most, what with all the pirates and slavers who come this way."

The elf thanked him, and set off on her way to one of the safe-houses he had told her about. He did not wait to see her go, for he had a shop to run, and if he gave everyone who left by the back door royal treatment, the shop would be without a proprietor for much of the day.

He had barely settled back into the role of shopkeeper when the street outside emptied, and two tree-trunk thick legs in leather trousers appeared at the window

The legs bent at the hip and knee, bringing a stern face with a single horn and narrowed amber eyes into view. The merchant knew at once what he was looking at - and was looking right back at him - and why a member of the most feared race in known space was paying him a visit.

The Shr'Ganti did not have to say the words "Where is the girl?" The shopkeeper knew they were coming, and was as prepared as he could be. He would do all he safely could to help the yellow-haired woman on her way, but he drew the line at being dragged out into the street to be dismembered and eaten...

 

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