SOS the Rope by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page A

heard her humming "Greensleeves." Then he knew that no victor stood in this circle yet. She had to make her choice between opposing desires, and when she came to her decision she would either give back Sol's bracelet-or keep it.
        Stupid seemed to have no problem adapting to a diet of lesser insects. The white moths were a phenomenon of the badlands only, but the bird elected to stick with the empire even at the sacrifice of his favorite victual.
        They traveled again. Two days out they met a single warrior carrying a staff; He was young and fair, like Sol, and seemed to smile' perpetually. "I am Say the Staffer," he said, "in quest of adventure. Who will meet me in the circle?"
        "I fight for service," Sol replied. "I am forming a tribe."
        "Oh? What is your weapon?"
        "The staff, if you prefer."
        "You use more than one weapon?"
        "All of them."
        "Will you take the club against me?"
        "Yes."
        "I'm very good against the club."
        Sol opened his barrow and drew out the club.
        Sav eyed him amiably. "But I'm not forming any tribe myself. Don't misunderstand, friend-I'm willing to join yours if you beat me, but I don't want your service if I beat you. Do you have anything else to put up?"
        Sol looked at him baffled. He turned to Sos.
        "He's thinking of your woman," Sos said, keeping it carefully neutral. "If she will accept his bracelet for a few nights, as forfeit-"
        "One night is enough," Sav said. "I like to keep moving." Sol turned to her uncertainly. He had spoken truly when he said he was a good bargainer. Standard terms were fine, but a variable or three-person arrangement left him hanging.
        "If you beat my husband," Sola said to the staffer, "I will accept your bracelet for as many nights as you desire." And Sos understood her nostalgia for attentions other than sexual; this commitment was routine. She paid a penalty for her beauty.
        "One night," Sav repeated. "No offense, miss. I never visit the same place twice."
        Sos said nothing more. The staffer was disarmingly frank, and whatever Sola was, she was no hypocrite. She went to the best man, wanting his name. If she had to put herself on the line to promote a settlement, she would. There was little room in her philosophy for a loser, as he had learned.
        Or did she have such confidence in Sol that she knew she risked nothing?
        "Agreed then," Sol said. They trekked as a party to the nearest hostel, several miles down the trail.
        Sos had his private doubts as the two men stepped up to the circle. Sol was exceedingly swift, but the club was basically a power tool, not given to clever maneuvering. Even if it didn't show in ordinary travel, Sol's recent illness was bound to have its effect upon his strength and endurance in battle. The staff was a defensive weapon, well suited to a prolonged encounter, while the club rapidly sapped the strength of the wielder. Sol had committed himself foolishly and given himself the very worst chance.
        Yet what did it matter to him? If Sol won, the tribe had its first real member. If he lost, Sola would take another bracelet and become Sava, and likely be free shortly thereafter. Sos could not be certain which alternative would benefit him personally, if either did. Best to let the circle decide.
        No! He had agreed to serve Sol, in exchange for a name. He should have seen to it that Sol's chances were good. As it was, he had already let the man down, when he should have been alert. Now he could only hope that his lapse did not cost Sol the victory.
        The two men entered the ring, and the contest began immediately. There were no manners in the battle circle, only victory and defeat.
        Sav sparred, expecting a fierce attack. It did not come. The staff was about six and a half feet long and the same diameter as a singlesticlc, with square-cut ends; it flexed