The Mountains Of Brega rb-17

by Джеффри Лорд

  After making camp, the women turned to Blade and Nugun. They dragged the Senar out, cut the ropes at his wrists and ankles, and spread-eagled him between four posts driven into the ground. Blade watched the spectacle with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Were they going to abuse Nugun and eat him, the way they had dealt with his comrades in the forest?

  Apparently not. After staking Nugun out, most of the women wandered off toward the trees. Some of them pulled off their tunics as they walked, and their bare breasts swayed gently, gleaming in the fading light. Two who remained by the cart drew their swords and motioned Blade to dismount. He unstretched cramped legs and let the women urge him toward a tent smaller than the others and well apart from them. The women led him up to the front of the tent and motioned for him to enter. Then they cut the cords binding his hands.

  When he did so, he was not surprised to find the patrol leader inside, sitting cross-legged on a cushion in the back of the tent. A candle in a metal holder cast a pale yellow light on her taut face. It creased in a brief smile as she saw Blade enter. The smile widened as she saw Blade's eyes roaming the tent, looking for any sign of weapons within her reach-or his. She drew a knife from under the cushion and placed it on one well-rounded thigh. «I have this. But you are strong and quick, and no doubt could overpower me in spite of it. However, you seem to care for that filthy beast out there. Are you one of those men from the legends, who could love only other men?»

  Blade managed to keep his face straight. «No. He is my sworn follower, who has come into danger out of his loyalty to me.»

  «An odd attitude for one of the beast-men to show, I must say.»

  «Perhaps you find it odd because there is no loyalty in the city?»

  The woman's smile faded for a moment. «Do not try to play word games with me, warrior. I am Idrana, huntress and warrior of the city, Sworn Sister of the Greens. If I give the word, or if any harm comes to me-that 'follower' of yours dies as the Senar usually do at our hands. Is that clear?»

  Blade nodded.

  «Good. Now we can talk and perhaps make sense. I-«Idrana broke off as footsteps sounded outside. The flap behind Blade opened, and two of the women pushed a dripping leather skin of water into the tent. They showed signs of wanting to linger, but Idrana fixed them with a poisonous glare and they backed out hastily. Blade could not help thinking that Idrana was remarkably careless of the good will of her patrol. Blade had known armies in which an officer would wind up with a sword through his ribs for less than he had seen Idrana do today. As Idrana started pulling her tunic over her head, he said so.

  Idrana finished pulling off the tunic and sat there bare to the waist for a moment, staring at Blade. Then she laughed and reached for the waterskin. «It is nothing for me to worry about. They are all Sisters of the Greens with me now, and they know they will be well rewarded.»

  Idrana seemed in a conversational mood, so Blade decided to venture another question. «Rewarded? How?»

  Idrana lifted the waterskin and poured some water from it over her shoulders and breasts. It ran down, making streaks in the dust on her tanned skin. A drop formed at the end of each solid, dark nipple, then fell off as her breasts moved.

  «Soon the Greens will find a way to choose the new Mistress of Fertility. When they have done that, I will be chief warrior of those guarding the House. It is a highly honorable post for a fighting woman of the city, one that women have killed for in the past.»

  «And I suppose they are planning to kill for it in the future?»

  Idrana's hands were now scrubbing the grime from her face and neck. She stiffened for a moment. Then her tight smile was back. «So you do know what is going on in the city. I wonder how.» Idrana shook her head to get the water out of her ears and unbuckled the belt of her trousers, shoving them down her long legs. Blade found it getting harder by the minute to keep his eyes on Idrana's face.

  When she was completely nude she shrugged, giving her breasts an interesting motion. Then she said, «I don't suppose you really know all the details. And if you don't know any of the secrets of the Greens, you couldn't have done any damage.»

  Blade decided that it was time to say something. If he went on sitting there like a log, Idrana might get the wrong idea. «I barely knew who the Greens were before you told me, Idrana.»

  «Indeed?» she said. She was pouring water down between her thighs now. The droplets sparkled and gleamed on the mass of brown-black curls between her legs. «Well, you know now. And you will know more about them in time. But first-you will know more about me, and I about you.» She poured the rest of the water down her legs and stood up, nude and gleaming. «You are a most unusual specimen of man, warrior. But I cannot go on calling you-warrior. Have you a name?»

  «Blade.»

  «Then come here, Blade, that we can learn more about each other.» She crooked a finger at him in a gesture that might have been coy with another woman. With Idrana, it was as commanding as a drill sergeant's bellowed order.

  Blade stood up. He could not have pretended not to be aroused if he had wanted to. Idrana's slow stripping, uncaring or unaware of what it was doing to him, had given him a good start. He stepped toward her, and she met him halfway. A long, muscular, warm body flowed up against him, and her lips rose up to his, warm and wet and seeming to suck resistance out of him.

  He stood still, as sure, powerful hands went down to his belt, unbuckled it, unlaced his trousers, and slipped in under their waistband. Under the trousers he was wearing only a breechcloth. A quick ripping of cloth, and the dance of warm fingers on his stiffening maleness began. Meanwhile the warm lips left his and began to work down, nuzzling his chin and throat.

  When her lips fell on the filthy homespun of Blade's tunic, Idrana stopped for a moment. She practically tore it off his back. When he was as nude as she was, she started in again with fingers and lips and warm flesh pressing against him. They all worked very well, and as they did, Idrana was obviously arousing herself along with Blade. Not as fast-he was almost painfully aroused before her breathing quickened. But just as surely. In time her breasts were heaving, just as his chest was, and her nipples were standing as stiff and erect as he was.

  It was then that she took him by the shoulders and pushed him down. With another woman Blade would have resisted for a moment, making a game of it. But Idrana did not play games-this was obvious. Blade let himself bend back until he could lower himself to the ground. Then his hands went around behind Idrana, ran quickly and lightly down the long, straight back, and clasped the firm buttocks as hard as possible. He was damned if he was going to give this woman complete control! His grip tightened. Idrana gasped-and then Blade pulled Idrana down onto him.

  Her face contorted in the moment of penetration, but not in pain. She was already wet and getting wetter as Blade thrust up into her and began rocking his hips back and forth. Perhaps Idrana's plans had been to set the pace herself. But Blade had snatched the initiative back for himself. He held her too tight and moved too strongly for her to do anything about it. Before she could fight back, her will began to dissolve under the impact of Blade's thrusting. Her head went back; her mouth sagged open in an idiotic gape. Sometimes her eyes closed tight, as Blade rose up high and deep. At other times they opened wide and stared unbelievingly down at him. It was something beyond Idrana's experience and perhaps beyond her belief-a man taking the initiative, slowly and deliberately melting her down into an erotic mass.

  Blade was aware of sweat rolling from his own body. He was even more aware of how close he was to the limits of his own endurance. But he went on and on until he felt that the woman above him was tightened like a bowstring ready for release. Her back was arched, and her hands were clutching his shoulders so tightly that her nails dug into his flesh.

  Then the bowstring was released, and Idrana's back arched still further, until Blade wondered if her spine were going to snap. She bounced up and down and twisted from side to side like a puppet on strings, whimpering and sobbi
ng and gulping air. Then she slumped forward until her nipples brushed his chest. The sudden shift of position put an end to Blade's endurance. Now it was his turn to heave and twist and groan as he burst upward into her.

  Eventually the mindless erotic fog faded away for both of them. Idrana rolled off Blade and sprawled limply beside him. By what was obviously a heroic effort of will, she managed to be the first to get to her feet and call for food and more water.

  After a meal of bread and cheese and dried meat washed down with water, Idrana gave Blade the explanation she had promised. Most of it Blade could have guessed from what she had already said. The Greens and the Blues were the factions in the city competing to choose the next Mistress of the House of Fertility. Matters had become so tense that the Greens were planning open violence.

  «And no doubt the Blues also,» said Idrana. «But we will be striking first. Three weeks from now, there will be the Great Games in the arena. No woman who can be there will be elsewhere, and that includes the leaders of the Blues.»

  Blade nodded. «And then the Sworn Sisters of the Greens will-act?»

  «Yes. With their leaders-gone-the Blues will not dare submit a candidate for mistress. Ours will win easily, and then I will be appointed warrior of the House of Fertility, to guard it and its secrets.» She paused, with what could only be called a smug grin on her face.

  Then she lowered her voice and said, «I will be in a good position to reward those who help me. And I may rise higher yet. First Warrior of the city, perhaps. Then no one can say a word against what I do. I could even keep-a man.»

  Blade nodded. «And you want me to be that man?»

  Idrana smiled. «Of course. The women are not bad, and the Senar are good for variety. But a real man-like something out of legend-I will be the most envied woman in the city.»

  And the most hated, thought Blade. But that was better left unsaid. For a moment he was silent. Obviously there was nothing in this offer that he needed to take seriously. Idrana was about as trustworthy as a cobra. And even if she was sincere, she was trying to enlist him in the faction fighting in the city. The faction fighting that could do nothing for the city except lay it open to Rilgon's army.

  But for the moment, Idrana might be offering a milder captivity, one affording more opportunity to contact the «sisters» in the city, more chance to escape and a chance to protect Nugun.

  Blade made his decision. «All right. You interest me. And you will have power in the city. But I will only aid you on one condition. Release the Senar Nugun to me. Or better yet, set him free entirely.»

  If Blade had thrust a white-hot iron into her, Idrana could not have started more violently. Her face went pale, then contorted into an ugly mask. «Blade, are you joking?»

  «No-why should I be?»

  «Set free-one of those-animals? Treat it like-something human? Never! The Senar will die in the arena as part of the games, and that is all there is to it.»

  Blade's temper flared. «Animals, are they? Then you women of the city have strange tastes in sex. I saw what you did with those Senar in the forest-animal-lover!»

  In the next moment Blade knew that his temper had definitely taken him too far. Idrana screamed like a wounded animal and snatched her knife from the corner of the tent. She raised it in one trembling hand and held it over Blade's groin, lowering it slowly. Blade lay still, not moving a muscle. If she stayed blinded by rage, when her knife hand came within reach of a quick grab-

  But Idrana's scream had alerted the women outside. The tent flap flew open, and Blade found himself staring at the shimmering metal of three drawn swords. No matter what he did, at least one of them would drive into his neck before he could move. So he went on lying still, not an easy thing with the knife still dropping lower and lower, the point now aimed directly at his groin.

  But Idrana's rage passed before the steel drove into Blade's flesh. The knife flashed in the candlelight as she threw it across the tent and leaped to her feet, still naked and quivering all over with rage.

  «Take him out and spread-eagle him!» she snarled. «If he loves that Senar so much, he can spend the night the same way. And he can die the same way in the arena, and think about what he missed! Oh, Mother Kina!» Idrana spat hard in Blade's face, then turned away and slumped to the ground, her shoulders heaving.

  As the women dragged him to his feet and out of the tent, Blade could not help wondering if he had done the wisest thing. But-face it-the only alternative would have been abandoning Nugun to death in the arena. That he could not have done. Now they would be in the arena together-and where one alone might die, two together might contrive to live.

  Chapter 14

  In two days they reached the city of Brega. By Idrana's orders, Blade was spread-eagled each night and bullied and harassed during the day. Idrana was obviously still in a fine blaze of rage and frustration with him.

  So Blade's eyes burned and his muscles ached as he watched the city grow larger in the dawn. It made him think of the skeleton of a giant.

  Once the city must have covered many times its present area. Among the fields and farms beside the road were numerous piles of crumbling stone. The farmhouses and fences themselves had been put together from salvaged stone. The present city was almost a village in comparison with its departed ancestor. It lurked behind a low wall of roughly mortared stone and a narrow ditch filled with scummy water. The smell of that water reached Blade's nostrils when the wagon was still a mile from the wall.

  «You women are certainly sloppy housekeepers,» he said to Idrana. «I've known barnyards that smelled sweeter than your beloved city.»

  Idrana's dusty face twisted in a sneer. «Go on taunting us, Blade. Let your tongue wag if you wish, until it is silent forever.»

  «That may be longer than you think, woman,» said Blade calmly.

  The women of the patrol dropped behind the wagon as it came up to the walls and followed it through the gate. Neither the gate nor the wall impressed Blade very much. Both were pieced together out of timber and salvaged stone and metal. Neither would offer much of an obstacle to an attacker. And the ditch was solid earth in several places. If Rilgon had the foresight to prepare ladders or even prop logs against the wall, he could put a thousand men into the city in a few minutes.

  Inside the walls, things might not be so easy for an attacker who did not know the city. The streets were narrow and wound back and forth and up and down like drunken snakes. The close-packed houses offered infinite opportunities for ambushes and sniping by the archers. But to balance this, they were mostly built of wood. A small fire, a strong wind-and the women of the city would die in its ashes. If the fighting women of the city had any sense, they would march out and try to meet Rilgon in the open field. To stay in their city would be laying their necks on the block and begging for Rilgon to swing the axe.

  Not all of the city was a rat's nest of wooden houses. A mile away on the right, a gigantic black stone mass rose high above the shingled roofs and rough stone chimneys. It looked like an enormous arcade, with a fringe of brightly colored banners fluttering from poles on top and massive arches below.

  Idrana saw Blade's eyes resting on the arcade. «The arena, Blade-the place of your death. Look your fill on it today. You will be too busy to admire it the next time you see it.»

  «I do indeed admire it,» said Blade with a thin smile. «It is the only thing I can admire in this 'city' that hardly deserves the name. What wretched builders you women seem to be. No doubt the arena is left over from the era of men, before the disaster.»

  The thrust went home. Idrana's nostrils flared, and her knuckles went white as her hand tightened on the hilt of her dagger. Blade tensed, but Idrana got her temper under control again. She sat in grim silence, swaying slightly as the wagon bumped and jolted over ruts and potholes in the half-paved streets. Blade relaxed and looked around again.

  The arena was not the only building in the city that obviously went back to before the disaster. Two miles awa
y on the left rose a gigantic square tower, a monstrous black mass at least half a mile on a side and a thousand feet high. There were no banners on it, no windows or arches in it. Far down at the bottom, Blade could see a large door, metallic silver against the blackness, with a broad wooden staircase painted yellow leading up to it. Nothing else relieved the solid blackness.

  Again Idrana noticed where Blade was looking. This time her voice was full of pride as she said, «The House of Fertility. From its secrets, the city rose and will rise farther yet.»

  Blade nodded without replying. So that mighty black mass housed the secrets of the city's ability to reproduce? Blade had no doubt that the secrets existed. He had heard so from too many people.

  But what were they? He suspected that the people of the disaster had been particularly skilled in biology and chemistry. The legends of bacteriological and chemical warfare in the disaster suggested as much. But what exactly had they learned to do? Had they achieved one of the longstanding dreams of Home Dimension scientists-developing embryos from fertilized eggs in laboratories? Or was their «secret» even more fantastic, something for which Home Dimension lacked even the words? Blade wondered. His curiosity was aroused, and once it was aroused, it seldom went back to sleep. He would ferret out the answer, somehow, sooner or later-if he lived long enough.

  A few minutes later the wagon and the patrol turned into a muddy courtyard. Around three sides of the courtyard rose a five-story wooden building, with «barracks» stamped all over it. Armed women were drifting in and out of the door, and more were staring down from the windows at the new arrival. If they were going to imprison him here, in the middle of what looked like half the city's fighting women, Blade knew his chances of escape would be slim.

  They were. Eight of the brawniest women Blade had ever seen came tramping up to the wagon. Idrana said nothing, merely jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Blade and Nugun. Four of the women scrambled up into the wagon and picked up Nugun as though he had been a log. The Senar growled deep in his throat and glared around him, but did not try to wriggle or fight. Blade had impressed that on him during the trip-don't provoke the women into killing you, no matter what they do. Stay alive and wait until we're together-that's our best chance for escape. I will not leave you.