Bemish rode behind everybody. He didn't feel all that good. A dull pain walked up and down where his spine had banged against the rock and his side was skinned in places. Kissur suddenly slowed his horse a bit and waited for his friend.
Kissur jabbed Bemish with his elbow and said, with a laugh,
"So, Earthman, admit that your feet got cold? Admit that you decided I would ask you to land this boat next time in Assalah spaceport?"
"You should have called police in."
"I," Kissur said, "am the master over this land's taxes and courts. What would have happened if I had called police? Firstly, I wouldn't have found this boat, because our justice is worse than a whore and they would be warned away. When the justice sells out, a man should take it in its own hands. Or do you think that I acted wrongly?"
"Yes," Bemish answered, "I don't think that you acted right. It was not justice you cared about but rather shame besmirching your clan's honor. If you had executed people accordingly to their guilt, Ashidan would have been executed first since he knows perfectly well that selling drugs is a crime, unlike a stupid old serf who did what his master told him to and anyway he had no clue that it's illegal to eat this weed, since all the shamans in this village have been eating it for the last thousand years and so what? You would have given him couple lashes and sent him away."
They rode down a broad dark path between the abyss and the cliff and the sky on the other side of the cliff was red and crackled.
"Ashidan," Kissur quietly called out, "do you hear what Terence is saying? He is saying that your guilt is larger than that of people who are dead already and it's not fair."
Even in the light brought by the moon and by the faraway fire one could see the youth's shoulders shaking.
"Get off the horse, Ashidan," Kissur ordered. Ashidan dismounted. Kissur also jumped down and pulled the sword with the intertwined snakes handle out of the sheath fastened to the saddle.
"Get on your knees," Kissur ordered.
Ashidan wordlessly kneeled next to the abyss. The wind started playing with his golden hair and it glistened in the moonlight. Ashidan lowered his head and pulled his hair off the base of the neck with his own hand.
"It would have been better," Kissur spoke, "if you had died of his sword eight years ago and not now," and he raised the sword over the brother's bowed head.
Bemish jumped off his horse and seized Kissur's hand.
"Isn't enough for today, Kissur? You are drunk with blood."
"You said it yourself," Kissur objected, "that I acted unfairly. I don't want people to say that about me."
"Damn it," Bemish said, "you did everything correct. Let the lad be."
"Get in the saddle, Ashidan," Kissur spoke quietly.
In a week, Bemish returned to the capital. He was buried up to his neck in work, he had to attend a benefit dinner, a risk strategy and investment conference, a Fall Leaves celebration in the palace, and a negotiation round with the management of a Chakhar company that Bemish had plans for.
Ronald Trevis was also at the conference, he gained some weight since they had met last time and, as Bemish learned, he had exchanged his third wife for a fourth one. Shavash invited both friends to join his retinue and visit Chakhar and after the vice minister had introduced the two Earthmen to the company director, the negotiations were concluded surprisingly quickly.
In the evening, Bemish and Trevis suddenly found themselves at a villa with Shavash while the rest of his retinue hung out at another hotel. The guests were served an incomparable dinner but, when the girls that had circling around the guests left and a waiter from the security department brought a counter surveillance device with the desert, Bemish realized that the serious conversation was just starting.
"I would like," Shavash said, leaning back in his armchair and putting an empty bowl for the glazed fruits aside, "to discuss with you our state debt. We are stuck all the way to our ears. The interest payments alone are bigger that one third of our GDP."
"I wouldn't say that you have a large state debt," Trevis mentioned, "You just have a very small GDP."
"That's what I have in mind," Shavash nodded, "when I suggest restructuring the debt."
Trevis bounced in his chair about to protest against this idea but Shavash's next words caused his eyes to pop out.
"I think that it would be possible to create a private company that will be responsible for paying interest on certain state debt tranches and this company will obtain Chakhar."
"What do you mean, Chakhar?" Trevis was astonished.
"I mean Chakhar or any other province where this company would be able to collect taxes, make laws and build factories. If a province frightens you, you can limit yourself with some mining deposits."
A long silence ruled the table.
"Shavash, aren't you afraid that someday they will arrest you for treason?" Trevis finally inquired.
The small official shrugged his shoulders.
"Why? It's just a way to decrease budget expenses. If a company doesn't pay the state debt out, it will, of course, loose the license. I've already talked to Dachanak and Ibinna and they are ready to be the company's co-founders. Mr. Bemish will fit perfectly there and as for you," here Shavash smiled charmingly at the banker, "I would like you, Ronald, to handle the negotiations with the bonds' owners."
Ronald Trevis leaned forward — his eyes reflected the lights from the candles burning on the table and the green illumination coming from the counter surveillance device. "He will never stop," a thought passed Bemish's mind, "He will handle the most fantastic deals for Shavash because Shavash can offer him what nobody has ever done in the Galaxy yet. He will be a consultant if Shavash asks him to privatize the ministry of finance."
Three days later, Bemish dropped by Assalah, for a couple of hours — he was accompanying a Galactic Bank committee.
The committee was shown a new section of finished launching pads, numbers seven to seventeen, and was escorted down the unfinished but already working spaceport building with twelve underground service floors and a fifteen story tower that housed Bemish's office on its very top.
Bemish entered his office with the bank vice president and contemplated, smiling slightly, his table covered with a barely perceptible layer of dust.
After the committee had left, Giles walked into the office.
"How is Kissur's castle?" the spy inquired.
Bemish mumbled something vague.
"By the way," Giles said, "satellites observed a space boat explosion in this area. It was something like a Colombine or a Trial with a boosted up engine — they use them to traffic drugs. By any chance, have you heard about it?"
"I witnessed it," Bemish said. "Kissur blew up the boat. Before that, he torched ten million worth of drugs and killed sixteen men. Afterwards he almost cut his own brother's head off. Ashidan was involved in the business."
"Did you memorize the space boat's license plate number?"
"It was D-3756A Orinoko, if the plate wasn't a fake."
Giles paused.
"Do you think that Kissur took you with him on purpose? Did he know that we suspected him in drug trafficking and that they had refused his application to the military academy exactly because of this?"
"Yes. Only, Kissur is a proud man and he will die before he says it out loud."
Giles was biting his lips.
"Where is Ashidan now?" he asked finally.
"Ashidan stayed in the castle. More precisely, he stayed in the castle's cellar." Bemish specified.