"Win or lose I want that oil." Sheyan's face was furrowed with worry. "If you fall, Dumarest, I'm sorry; but it will be just too bad. There's nothing we can do to help you. You go and the girl goes with you."

Dumarest looked to where she stood, the full lips blood shy;less now, her eyes like those of a trapped beast. The hands at her sides were clenched, the knuckles showing white be shy;neath the skin. She turned and caught his eyes, her own following him as he stepped from the platform and moved towards her.

"Mister," she said flatly, "I thank you for what you're try shy;ing to do, but you haven't got a chance. That freak can't be stopped."

"You want me to pull out?"

"No." Her voice was resonant, musical beneath the harsh shy;ness of strain. "This way I've got a slim chance," she ad shy;mitted. "The other way I've got none at all. These crazy people want my blood and if you quit they'll get it." She shivered a little. "Look at them! Animals! And Gilliam's the worst. He's an idiot, solid bone and muscle with the intel shy;ligence of a five-year-old. They use him to haul up the boats and do all the heavy stuff. Sometimes he goes insane and then they have to catch him in nets and tie him down. As a reward they let him slaughter the cattle. He thinks it's fun."

Dumarest looked to where men clustered around the giant. They were stripping him, coating him with oil, fastening a loincloth of leather around his hips. Dwarfed by his stature the chief elder stood to one side, hands lifted, lips moving as he called a blessing down on the champion of the people.

Nimino came to stand beside the girl and Dumarest.

"You'd better get ready, Earl," he said, his voice reflecting his worry. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Fetch him a laser," said Lallia. "That or a score of men to help him out."

The navigator ignored the comment. "Well, Earl?"

"No." Dumarest flexed his toes in his shoes, his shoulders beneath the material of his uniform. The plastic was firm and would give some protection against the claws of his opponent. "Do we fight bare-handed?"

A guard came forward and handed him a stave. It was a plain length of wood, six feet long and two inches thick; both ends were bound with leather. Nimino stepped back, pulling the girl with him as Gilliam moved to the center of the open space.

"I kill," he said. And rushed forward.

Dumarest ducked and felt the wind brush his hair, the drone of the staff's passing sounding like a deep-toned bee. Immediately he sprang aside as Gilliam, turning with amaz shy;ing speed, again lashed out with the staff. He held it in one great hand, wielding it as a boy would a stick, lashing with the full power of his arms and shoulders at the darting figure in the cleared space.

"Good luck, Earl!" called Nimino.

"Kill him, Earl!" said the girl.

Dumarest ignored the encouragement as he warily darted from the attacks of his opponent. He held his own staff horizontal before him, each hand a third of the way from either end, ready to parry or strike as the opportunity pre shy;sented itself. The weapon was clumsy, awkward to handle, needing much practice before a man could become pro shy;ficient in its use. Had Gilliam used it properly Dumarest knew that he would already be dead.

He ducked again, darted to one side, sprang back as a vicious downswing caused the air to strike his eyeballs. It was useless to attempt to tire his opponent, those great mus shy;cles would house inexhaustible energy and, too, they pro shy;tected the bone beneath. Letting trained reflexes govern his evading movements Dumarest studied the weak points against which he must aim his attack: the groin, joints, eyes, and throat. The groin presented too small a target and was protected by the swell of thighs and the ridged muscle of the belly. A successful attack could win the contest but the chances were against it being successful. The deep-set eyes were set with ridges of overhanging bone; the spade of the chin lowered over the vulnerable throat. The elbows were awkward to get at.

Only one thing was really in his favor: the limited intel shy;ligence of the giant. Gilliam had been given a staff and told to kill his opponent. He tried to do it with the staff alone instead of adding the weapon to his natural armory. Also he was using it as a saber-and any man armed with a quarterstaff could beat a swordsman.

If he were skilled with its use.

If the swordsman had normal strength.

Again the giant swung his staff through the air. Duma-rest ducked, straightened, and saw the length of wood sweeping in a backhand slash towards his skull. Desperate shy;ly he threw up his own staff, the wood meeting with a vicious crack, the force of the interrupted blow knocking his own weapon hard against the side of his head. Dazed, Duma-rest fell to the ground, rolling frantically as the staff whined down towards him, the end gouging deep as he sprang to his feet.

"Kill!" gloated the giant. "I kill!"

Dumarest tensed as the giant reared back, the staff lifted high. His hands shifted as he altered his grip on his own weapon. Should Gilliam sweep his staff downwards in a cut shy;ting blow then he must spring to one side and slam the end of his own pole directly into one of the eyes. If he should try a sidewise swing then he must duck and strike before the giant could recover his balance.

Air droned as the staff swept towards him.

Dumarest crouched, straightened, and struck at the side of the giant's face, the end of his staff smashing against the prominent ridge of bone protecting the eye. Immediate shy;ly Gilliam turned, staff whining in a backhand blow. Duma-rest sprang from it, throwing himself behind the giant's back, poising himself with the staff held by the end in both hands, the tip well beyond his shoulder. As the giant, baffled, turned again to find his elusive opponent, Dumarest sprang forward, the staff a blur as he sent the length of wood hard against the exposed kneecap. There was a dull crack of yielding bone and Gilliam staggered, his face distorting in pain.

"Hurt," he mumbled. "Hurt!"

Dumarest struck again, viciously, using the full strength of back and shoulders. Again the staff cracked against the bro shy;ken kneecap. As it did he threw himself backward in a com shy;plete somersault, landing just beyond the reach of the giant's staff.

Gilliam sprang after him. Sprang and fell as his shat shy;tered knee refused to carry his enormous weight. As he crashed to the ground Dumarest leaped forward, staff lifted high above his head, smashing it down at the base of the muscular neck. Twice he struck. At the third blow the staff cracked and fell apart. Chest heaving, the broken end of the staff held sword-fashion in his right hand, Dumarest stepped towards the fallen giant.

Nimino caught his arm as he went to stab the splintered end into the corded throat.

"That's enough, Earl! Earl, damn you, that's enough! You've won!"

Dumarest drew air deep into his lungs and looked at the shattered staff in his hand. "He's dead?"

"Stone cold. You snapped his neck."

"Good." Dumarest lifted a hand and touched a wetness on his head. One of the giant's wild blows must have torn his scalp. He looked at the blood on his hand. How close had death been then? Quietly he said, "So I've won. Now get us out of here. All of us. The girl as well."

"And the oil," said Sheyan as he joined the group. "Don't forget the oil."

VI

"pearls," said yalung. He tilted his cupped hand, the salon light filling his palm with nacreous beauty. "They are fine but . . ." Regretfully he shook his head. "On every world there are seas and in every sea there are bivalves. They are very pretty, my dear, but I'm afraid of very little value."