The Tritonian Ring and Other Pasudian Tales by L. Sprague de Camp Page A

He can speak a few words, for he is not the great ape of Blackland—the gorilla—but another and rarer kind, intermediate between apes and men."
     
                  Vakar fell into a wary silence until they arrived at the palace. He gauped like a yokel at the rows of gleaming marble columns and the gilded roof, for this was the first two-storey building that he had ever seen.
     
                  He sent in the four tusks with word that Vakar of Lorsk would like an audience. After a half-hour's wait he was ushered in, leaving Qasigan staring pensively after him.
     
                  "Prince Vakar!" cried Queen Porfia, stepping down from her audience-throne and advancing upon him. She kissed him vigorously. "I thank you for your splendid gift, but you need not shower me with wealth to assure your welcome! Did you think I had forgotten when we won the dance-contest in Amferé ten years ago? What brings you so far from the bison-swarming plains of windy Lorsk?"
     
                  Porfia, Vakar thought, had certainly developed into a splendid-looking woman. Though she was not large, her proud carriage gave her a deceptive look of tallness. Lucky Vancho! He said:
     
                  "I am on my way to mighty Torrutseish, madam, and could not pass by Ogugia without renewing so pleasant an acquaintance."
     
                  She looked at him keenly from emerald-green eyes. "Now how, I wonder, does it happen that you and one servant put into the harbor of Sederado navigating a small merchant-ship all by yourselves in most thwart tyronic fashion? Are you running away from Lorsk to become a corsair? Perhaps to sail under the octopus banner of the accursed Gorgons?"
     
                  "You seem to have learned a lot in a short time."
     
                  "Oh, I watch my kingdom's commerce, and was getting a report on you while you waited. Well, what happened? Was all the ship's company but you washed overboard, or snatched by a kraken?"
     
                  Vakar hesitated, then gave in to his instant liking for Porfia and told the story of Sret's treachery.
     
                  "So," he concluded, "being as you have said no barnacled mariners, we propose to sell this ship and continue eastward on the next merchantman that passes that way."
     
                  "How much cargo have you?"
     
                  "By Tandyla's third eye, I do not know!"
     
                  "Well then. Elbien!" A man came in and Porfia told him: "Go to the waterfront, board Prince Vakar's ship, and reckon up the value of the cargo." As the man bowed and left she turned back to Vakar. "I will give you your ship's fair value in trade-metal. If Mateng squeals we will remind him that as owner he is responsible for the murderous attack upon you. And what do you know of that odd fish who came in with you? The one who arrived in his private galley?"
     
                  "He claims to be Qasigan of Tegrazen, but beyond that I know no more than you, Queen. He is certainly as peculiar as a flying pig, though courteous enough."
     
                  "So? The description of him sounds like one of the Gorgonian race, though that proves nothing because Tegrazen lies near the Gorgades on the mainland and the people of those parts are much mixed. But tell me how things go in Lorsk: the land of warriors, heroes, and athletes, with hearts of bronze and heads of ivory?"
     
                  Vakar laughed and plunged into small-talk. A man of few friends, he felt that at last he had found someone who spoke his language. They were chattering away some time later when Porfia said:
     
                  "By Heroe's eight teats, I have spent the whole morning on you, sir, and others await me. You shall stay at the palace, and we will have a feast tonight. You shall meet my minister Garal and