Dumarest said, "You would have my word."
"Which, probably, has never been broken." Gydapen lifted one foot and rested it on the edge of the raft. On it he rested the hand holding the laser. Around the vehicle, where they had dropped when it landed, his guards stood armed and watchful. "Yet you will permit me a little doubt. A word, an oath, such things are fragile. Deeds are something else." Then, without change of tone he said, "Kill Roland and the woman."
"My lord?"
"Kill them both and join my retinue."
Dumarest looked at the watching men. They were tense, unaware exactly of what was happening, but conscious they were witnessing something strange. The one nearest to him had a face dewed with sweat, more sweat liquid on the stock of the gun he held, muzzle high.
Gydapen said, sharply, "You hesitate?"
"A moment for thought, my lord. A man does not kill for nothing. My reward-"
"High rank in my army. High pay and what pleasures you choose to take." Gydapen lifted the laser, his knuckle white on the trigger. "Now obey!"
"Without a gun?"
"You have a knife. Use it!"
Sunlight glinted from the blade as Dumarest lifted it from his boot. Deliberately he turned it, causing it to flash, splinters of light which caught the eye and held the attention. Roland sucked in his breath as Dumarest moved towards him.
"Earl! For God's sake! You can't!"
"Scream," said Dumarest, softly. "Scream, you fool, then fall and lie still!"
He moved in, the blade circling around the other's uplifted hand, making a mockery of the pathetic defense. His arm straightened, slashed as the man shrieked, blood dulling the edge of the knife as he lifted it high.
On the sand Roland crouched, hands at his throat, falling to reveal the crimson gash. A shallow wound which had barely cut the skin but one which bled, accentuating the damage, looking ghastly as the man fell to one side, to twitch, to lay still.
"One down, my lord." Dumarest stepped towards the raft. "Now for the other. A pity to waste such beauty but your orders must be obeyed."
"A dog eating the filth of its master," she sneered. "You disgust me. Gydapen, you have chosen well."
He turned, smiling, his hand with the laser swinging wide, then, too late, he realized the mistake he had made, the danger he was in.
"No!"
His hand lifted as he yelled, finger closing as razor-edged steel hurtled through the air to hit, to bury itself in the hollow of his throat, to send him toppling forward vomiting blood on the dirt.
As he fell Dumarest moved, snatching the gun from the man he had marked, blasting the air and ground with its snarl and hail as he clamped his finger on the trigger. Smoke rose from the side of his head, the burning hair now quenched by the blood which laved the area. The sear of the laser was an angry furrow of red and black high above one ear. He looked a savage, blood-crazed avenger determined to kill.
The guards broke, throwing aside the weapons as they raced for the shelter of the huts.
"Earl!" He dropped the gun as Lavinia came running towards him from the raft. "You were wonderful! I guessed all along what you intended but, Gydapen, the fool, didn't guess all you wanted was a chance to get your knife before he could fire. Well, he's dead now and it's over."
"Yes," said Dumarest. "He's dead."
"And it's over," she repeated emphatically. "We'll have peace now."
A peace he could share.
It was in the promise of her eyes, her lips, the warmth of her body as she pressed herself close against him. A gentle time with good living and soft luxuries. A time to rest and think and make leisurely plans. The days would blend one into another and, at night, there would be the protection of strong buildings and the comfort of her love. He could hide here, take what was offered, forget the search for Earth. Find refuge, even, from the Cyclan. A haven.
A haven of darkness. One free of the glittering torment of the stars.
"Earl?" Her lips were very close, very tempting. "You'll stay, Earl? For a while, at least, you'll stay?"
For a while-why not?
"Yes, Lavinia," he said. "I'll stay."