Gion's hard lips smiled briefly at the iron compliment.
"I rate you higher than you think, Kurland. I should have come farther still to see you hanged at dawn."
The outlaw shrugged. "I might say the same, had I had your luck."
The big man nodded, his eyes never leaving Kurland. The sharp brows over his enormous eyes lay straight and commanding, and there were lines about his tight mouth Kurland had never seen. Slowly, softly, Gion went on, rocking easily on his booted heels.
"Suppose, came dawn, you did not hang, Kurland?"
The swinging leg halted, the big body tensed in its chains. Then slowly Kurland eased back against the cold stone wall, a thin, mocking smile playing across his face.
"You should know me better, Gion. I am not for sale, even at such a price. Nor my comrades."
Cold pride flashed in Marward's eyes. "I buy no man's loyalty," he retorted. "Were yours for sale, I should not be here, nor would you. I offer a supposition, nothing more."
Kurland rose, a powerful, black-clad figure imposing even in torn uniform and clinking chains. He stared fiercely at the heavy sub-ruler of the outer Jovian plains, the iron-souled tyrant who had broken and suborned Earthly sway until much of the giant planet lay supine and trembling before him.
"You have not come to taunt me, nor play with suppositions, Marward. Why not be plain?"