Young Rissa (22 page)

“Oh, damn all! ErnoI — Iike a fool I forgot to bring anything to take the grease off my head.”
 

“On this kind, sand works fine.”
 

“Perhaps — but the time it would take, I would be frozen stiff.”
 

“Yes, you're right. Here, let me squeeze out the worst, what I can. Then you can get out.” From the forehead he pushed his palms over her scalp, pressing hard until he reached the nape. He repeated the action, then grasped her hair at that point and pulled his hand, squeezing, down the rest of it. He showed her the blobs of grease on his hands. “See? You'll still have to clean up, but that's most of it.” She scrambled onto the bank, shivering; he used more sand on his hands, then joined her. “Come on — let's run back — warm up a little.”
 

He set out, sprinting. She followed, but he was faster; she fell behind. When she reached the arena she was breathing hard and felt almost warm again, but the clearing's sunlight was welcome.
 

Hands on hips, Ernol stood grinning. “You like my bath place?”
 

“It is . . . invigorating. While one lasts.” She began to dress; after a moment, he did also. She said, “Do you suppose it is time for lunch? I am hungry.”
 

“If it isn't, join us in the kitchen. Snacks available at any time.”
 

“Perhaps I will — though I need to talk with the Hulzeins, and seldom except at mealtimes do I find them free.”
 

“Well — any time, remember. Ready to go?”
 

“Yes.” On the way to the Lodge, Ernol lapsed again into silence, and Rissa found no reason to break it. They entered the building at the rear; where their ways parted and they said brief good-byes. “And thank you again, Ernol.” He only nodded.
 

Going to her room, she encountered no one. She decided hunger could wait; she stripped and had her delayed hot tub, scrubbing the rest of the grease from her hair and then lying relaxed, letting the heat loosen muscles and soothe bruises. All in all, she thought, the morning had been quite productive.
 

 

The bath's controls kept the water hot; after a time she fell into reverie. When the knock came she had no idea how long she had lain there. On the intercom she asked, “Who is it?”
 

“Sparline.”
 

“Oh — come in, please. I am in the bath.”
 

“Hungry? I am.”
 

“Yes. I will dress immediately and join you.”
 

“No, stay put — I'll have something sent up for us.” Rissa heard her talking to someone, but could not make out the words. Then Sparline entered and sat in a chair near the tub. “Well — did you have a good session?” She looked more closely. “Ouch! I'll say you did! I guess you didn't do so well?”
 

“I am most satisfied — these marks you see are not serious, and Ernol carries about as many. He strikes beautifully and is quick of mind as well as body — with equal training he would beat me every time, or nearly. But as it is I outthrew him almost two to one, and never could he immobilize me. Nor vice versa, for that matter — his strength and skills together are too great. I relied on quickness — we are roughly equal — and my added training.”
 

“Are you ready for dal Nardo?”
 

“I would like another session or two, possibly one with a larger partner, then a day of relaxation. Then — I will be ready, yes.”
 

Sparline frowned. “Maybe we can get him to grant a postponement.”
 

Rissa sat upright; a small tidal wave splashed down the length of the bath to rebound against her. “The time is set? But, Hawkman — ”
 

“He's not back yet. And dal Nardo's seconds were insistent, so Liesel acted for you. She agreed to the day after tomorrow. And if Hawkman isn't here to second you, I'll do it. I and another.”
 

“Who is the other?”
 

Sparline shook her head. “I don't know — it's Liesel who said it.”
 

Rissa started to lean back again, then changed her mind and sprang out, dripping. Taking a large towel, she walked into the bedroom section. Sparline followed. “Rissa — I'm sorry. If you're not prepared, we can — ”
 

“No.” As she dried herself, the warmed towel soothed her skin. “It will be in two days, as agreed. I am ready enough — and if not, it is my own fault. It is only that — as a principal, I suppose I expected to be consulted, on terms.” A knock came. “Well, enough — that will be one with food. I will answer.”
 

She wrapped the towel around her. At the door she accepted a tray from the girl who brought it, thanked her, and took the food to a small table by the window. “Let us sit down, shall we?”
 

Exercise improved Rissa's appetite; she ate half again as much as usual, finishing all that Sparline left in the serving dishes. Then she touched a napkin to her mouth, leaned back, and said, “Now — what circumstances are agreed? The place, and the rest of it?”
 

“An arena by the spaceport — neutral ground, neither ours nor dal Nardo's. It's fenced against the curious, but not roofed. The surface is bare soil, well packed. The terms, though — ”
 

“Yes?”
 

“There'll be more people than I'd like. Dal Nardo insisted on five of his own, including his seconds, so we'll have the same. Then the referee and two assistants — all armed, but no one else will be. Plus the doctor and one aide. That makes — let's see — seventeen, all told. I could do with less — the last time Hawkman fought, there weren't more than — oh, about a dozen, I'd guess.”
 

Rissa shrugged. “Excess spectators are not important.”
 

Leaning forward, Sparline frowned. “Claques are dangerous. They shout advice, they distract — they can misdirect their principal's opponent.”
 

“Yes, I see.” Rissa nodded. “In combat one could take wrong advice by mistaking one voice for another. Very well — now that I am warned, I shall plan to pay no heed to
any.
”
 

She smiled. “Sparline, this will be to
our
advantage. Let our group shout advice, true and false, both to me and aimed at dal Nardo. He will think I listen and respond to what I hear; therefore he will have to pay heed to all of it. I will not — I can put full attention to him, to him alone!”
 

Sparline's eyes widened. “You — in seconds, you turn dal Nardo's strategy against him! I begin to think — ”
 

“That I will live? But how can you doubt it? I — I — “ Suddenly her mouth warped into a grimace; tears flowed. She put her hands to her face, shaking her head violently. Sparline came and embraced her; against the warm bosom the jerking head quieted, but Rissa's sobbing took longer to abate. Then she pushed away, gently, wiped her eyes and met Sparline's gaze.
 

“There is no point in fooling others, is there? I pretend well, I think, that I am confident — but I do not fool myself. In truth, I am terrified, when I allow myself to feel it. Not of pain, but that deliberately, out of his vengeful whim, that man may stop my life. And before I have done — oh, so many things I may never have the chance to do. I wish — well, never mind. Either I shall do them or, being dead, I shall not.”
 

Sparline clutched Rissa's shoulder. “You need a drink.” She reached for the brandy flask; a moment later Rissa was sipping from its cap. Her lips still trembled.
 

“Want to talk about it a little more?”
 

“No.” Then Rissa paused, and said, “Today. I find myself wishing I had opened to Ernol's friendly lust. But I did not.”
 

“You mean he — ?”
 

“He was not offensive — do not think that. He was — complimentary, and obviously available. There is no cause for displeasure.”
 

Smiling, Sparline stroked Rissa's hair. “No — he's in no trouble — not for that. Rissa — once when I practiced nude combat with a man alone — well, it didn't stop there. The excitement and all — you know?” She laughed. “What I'm saying is, there's lots of precedent. And — you know — there's nothing like it, really.”
 

Rissa wanted to smile but could not. “Walking back here together, he did not speak.”
 

Sparline stood. “You want me to send him up to you?”
 

“No. It would not be the same, would it?”
 

“I guess not. Anything else I can help with?” Rissa shook her head; Sparline smiled and left. The door, closing, sounded to Rissa like the end of something.
 

She moved to pour herself another cap of brandy, drank half of it, and then sat on the bed, taking the rest a tongue-taste at a time. After a while the thought came that it had been more than half her lifetime since last she had cried.
 

After all, a few stray, silent tears did not count — did they?
 

 

All afternoon Rissa did not leave her room. For nearly an hour she exercised, loosening and stretching her muscles. She read parts of her notes and made a few additions. She watched through the window as sunlight shifted and changed the look of what she saw. She poured more brandy but set it aside; when she next remembered it and sipped, the strong spirit was no longer to her taste. No matter — it would keep.
 

She thought of things she had done and not done, and wondered which she might regret if she allowed herself that feeling. In that light she reviewed her first meeting with dal Nardo — and then again. Finally, she said aloud, “No. If it could be done again for the first time, all would be the same.”
 

With that conclusion came peace. She sat to write a coded letter to Erika. To Frieda, really, she knew — but as she wrote, it was Erika's face, Erika's reactions that she visualized. She sealed the letter and sat quietly, watching twilight approach
 

Liesel and Sparline shared dinner with her. After she gave Sparline her letter, for enclosure with the next batch of Earth-bound messages, she spoke little and listened only vaguely to what was said. Finally, after the meal, Liesel jogged her elbow. “Rissa? Are you asleep sitting up?”
 

Shaking her head, “No — preoccupied, I suppose. I am sorry.”
 

“Well. I asked, just now, your plans for tomorrow.”
 

“Exercise, of course, and rest. And — I had almost forgotten — collect my fee from Alsen Bleeker.”
 

“Yes — and you'll need an escort. You can fly an aircar?”
 

“I have not for some time, and these are somewhat different from Erika's, but I believe I can manage. Why?”
 

“Then you won't need a pilot; that's all. And what with Sparline and I being busy, we'd be hard put to find you one.”
 

“Who goes with me, then?”
 

“Do you have any preference, yourself?”
 

“Perhaps Ernol, who practice-fought so well with me today?”
 

“Hmm — you want an armed person. Ernol's adequate with weapons, but not the expert that some others are.”
 

“It will not matter. A man of Hulzein Lodge, visibly armed — there should be no trouble.”
 

Liesel nodded. “All right, I'll have him notified. He can spot Bleeker's building for you — it's on the edge of town so you won't need to know the traffic patterns, this trip. Now — what time?”
 

“To leave here? An hour before mid-morning should do.”
 

“Then that's settled. Now the next thing — at the duel you're entitled to have your two seconds and three more of our people. Preferences?” Rissa shook her head. “Well, then — your seconds are Hawkman if he can get there, or Sparline if he can't, and one person of Hawkman's choice — he hasn't said who. I'd like to join you, but I can't. Two reasons — it's against custom for the prime head of this Lodge to appear for a connection not of blood or marriage. Also — one of us has to be here at our control center, and especially now. So — who else?”
 

She thought. “Sparline, if that is proper, even if Hawkman comes as my second. Ernol again, I think. You choose the rest.”
 

Sparline turned to her mother. “The big man — what's his name? — who stunned a charging bushstomper with his fist. He's not fast, but if it came up necessary to intervene, he's big enough to hold dal Nardo.”
 

“That's Splieg,” said Liesel. “Good choice. And — how about Lebeter, the little knife artist?”
 

“But I thought,” said Rissa, “that we must all be unarmed.”
 

Sparline laughed. “Liesel, you think of everything! Rissa — he
will
be unarmed, but dal Nardo won't quite believe so.”
 

“Come to think of it,” said Liesel, “neither would I.” She laughed. “Rissa, Sparline told me of your plan to turn dal Nardo's claque scheme against him. I like it — and if there's a place for Lebeter, he's another arrow to that same bow.”
 

Rissa nodded. “I see the advantage of a teamwork of minds. Now when the time comes, I shall not feel so alone.”