Rebel of Antares by Alan Burt Akers

traders like Unmok. I frowned. Our cages were empty. So that could only mean that Maglo, coming along toward Huringa with a stolen caravan, had stumbled across Unmok and was dealing in this unholy fashion with a man with whom he’d tangled before. That explained the presence of the chavonth. The grille lifted, higher this time, and Unmok stumbled back to the far side of his cage, and the grille came down only just in time to halt the chavonth in mid leap. The screech of baffled fury spat like the scintillant bolts from the sorcerers’ Quern of Gramarye.
    “Finish him off!” yelled some of the men.
    “Play him longer!” shrilled others.
    Maglo the Ears strutted. He wore three swords on his left side, and they jutted up all at different angles. He was a big man, a spitting barbaric angerim, and he gloated in his power.
    Working my way around between the clustering clarsian bushes, I momentarily lost sight of the cage. I could still hear the shouts of the men and the spitting fury of the chavonth. When I was positioned directly abaft the cage and cautiously peered out, Maglo was just walking across to the men on the chain. I guessed he meant to pull the chain for the last lethal time himself.
    My first leap took me to the cage. The second landed me on the iron bars along the top and I plunged down and sprawled out flat. The door at the front was fastened by an iron staple. The staple came out in a long screech of metal on metal. I hurled the staple full at Maglo. Without pausing to see if it hit him or not, I drew my thraxter and reached down through the bars and hit the chavonth an almighty thwack up the rump.
    The beast shrieked and spat and then, in a single sinuous bound, leaped clean through the open door.
    The men screamed, and ran, and fell over, and goggled terror. A Rapa’s head went one way as a taloned paw swiped, and his body toppled the other. A big Brokelsh stumbled and fanged jaws crunched. Dust smoked into the bright air. The noise racketed among the bushes. Unmok yelled. Froshak dangled in his bonds, and began to stir, lifting his cat’s head.
    “Stay still, Froshak, as you value your life!”
    The Fristle had handled big cats for a long time. He did not move a muscle. Of us all, now, Unmok was in the safest spot.
    Being a prudent man despite all seeming to the contrary, I stayed where I was. The chavonth went about his task of destruction with the unleashed fury of a cyclone. Men ran or died. The chavonth was in no mood to settle down with a nice juicy chunk of meat between his paws. Treacherous are chavonths, and this one vented his spleen in awesome fashion.
    He vanished up the road after the last of the fleeing men. I hopped off the cage and slashed Froshak’s bonds free. Then the chain was lifted and Unmok walked out. He was dazed.
    “That Maglo!” We walked across and looked down on the bandit chief — or what was left of him. The chavonth had taken a bite in passing.
    “You’ve one less damned animal bandit to worry about now.”
    “Aye, Jak. And, but for you...”
    “Say nothing—”
    Froshak joined in. I said, curtly, “Is there a caravan?”
    “Maglo taunted me.” Unmok cradled his middle left stump. He’d had a shock. “Down the road a space, out of earshot. He sent my tame slaves there, all except poor Nog who tried to run.”
    “I saw him. Let us take weapons and pay a call on Maglo’s caravan. It will have been thieved by him.”
    “And we,” quoth Froshak, abruptly pleased, “will take it for ourselves.”
    “Well, now,” said Unmok as we stared about. “It won’t be as easy as that. But—” He brightened. “May Ochenshum be my witness! We deserve it.”
    So, making sure none of the bandits still infested the place, and keeping a sharp lookout for the chavonth, we set off.
    After the initial shock, these two got over the incident quickly. In one way, that merely reflected the hard knocks of their lives. When Unmok asked me why I’d come back, when we’d