Free Golden Torc - 2 by Julian May

He smote the fruit neatly in two. King Thagdal roared with jovian delight. The men in black and white began flinging oranges at Stein as fast as they could. His sword flashed like a golden wheel. He spun and leaped, chopping the flying spheres to bits. The King pounded the table while tears of mirth ran into his splendid beard. The company of Tanu screeched and cheered.
    The chain of silence sounded.
    The arbiter gushed, "Oh, a fair show indeed by our newest warrior! Well done, Stein!"
    Bid.
    Again the burst of exotic mindspeech. This time Elizabeth was attuned to it. Without surprise, she heard Stein being auctioned off to the highest bidder as a likely gladiator in a contest called the Low Melee. Since the ex-driller was one of the most impressive physical specimens to have appeared in Exile within the past decade, the sports-crazed exotics drove the bidding to what was evidently an unprecedented level. They were bidding their personal services to the Crown, nominal owner of all exceptional time-travelers-offering their metafunctions, their material wealth, their torced and untorced human subjects.
    Three hundred grays for the Royal Guard!
    My garnet mine in the Pyrenees!
    The renowned dancing woman Kanda-Kanda and all of her suite!
    A hundred racing chalikos caparisoned in gold!
    The death of Delbaeth.
    The King cried aloud, "Hold!" He rose from his couch and glowered over the startled assemblage. Out in the middle of the floor, Stein stood still, the point of his great sword resting on the tiles.
    "What person has dared this bid?" asked Thagdal with silken softness. "Who esteems the strength of this warrior so highly that he will rashly pledge the destruction of the Shape of Fire?" The crowd of banqueters held their tongues and minds.
    "I do," said Aiken Drum.
    There was a collective sigh, and a collective lancing out, and a mental gasp of stunned surprise as all of the mind-probes fell blunted. Thagdal began to laugh aloud and after a moment, so did Nontusvel and then all of the others. Reaction to the enormity rocked the hall.
    Elizabeth came sliding into Aiken on the uniquely human mode.
    What in the world?
    Look Thaggymind yourself Elizababe fondest wish extirpation meanie FirvulagDelbaethShapeofFire. So bid.
    For Steinie? Deranged clownAiken gaming with ourfriend's life?!
    Elizadummybeth! I'd save Steinbuddyvulnerable. Tanu combatschool ferocitymindset recharge berserkerpsychoenergy irrevocably.
    Damn...yes. I affirm.
    Safe with me. Eventually get Sukey too. TurdflockTanu really bit it off when torced me. You know.
    Suspected. But damn they get you if comdown mindunion crunch. Get us both if they decipher operant snuff sequence. Distract distract distract.
    The mental exchange between Aiken and Elizabeth had occupied a fraction of a second. The arbiter bibendi was frantically jangling the chain of silence as the prankster in the shining suit strolled from his place at the High Table to a position beside Stein. When the tumult died away, the King said, "Speak, Aiken Drum."
    The little man swept off his hat and bowed. Then he began to talk; and as he spoke aloud his mind played a subtle descant that somehow gave his ludicrous words credence, painting them with a mesmeric plausibility that disarmed even the most skeptical of the exotic audience.
    "Now I know that my bidding has surprised you, friends! For not only is the deed itself an impudent thing, but you scarcely can understand how I know enough of the horrid Delbaeth to suggest his removal. It seems incredible to you, doesn't it, that a newly arrived little silver-torc can propose to do what so many of your own champions have failed of.
    "Well, let me tell you how things are! I'm a different kind of human! You've never seen my like. Now, this big fellow who stands beside me is my friend. And I fear that the Good Queen is right in saying that he's not the kind who can wear your gray torc long and live. The coaching style of your fightingschool would undo all the