by Джеффри Лорд
Once he'd decided firmly in favor of caution, Blade was able to keep his distance, not without danger but at least without skating along the thin edge of disaster again. The Great Hunter was strong enough to take on six men in a close grapple, and incredibly fast when running in a straight line. It couldn't turn fast, however, and its eyesight was definitely poor. It practically ignored Cheeky, except when Blade told the feather-monkey to make enough noise to draw the beast's attention and give his master a little time to breathe.
Since he'd started with the crowd on his side, Blade knew he had a while before anyone suspected him of being a coward. And as much as he wanted the goodwill of the Rutari, he would go right on keeping his distance from the beast for as long as he had to. He and Cheeky simply didn't dare confront a Great Hunter with its full strength and speed left. One of those clawed hands would connect, and even if it didn't kill Blade outright it would do so much damage that the next blow could finish the job. The goodwill of the Rutari would be of no use to a stone-dead Richard Blade.
The crowd began to buzz with excitement at the show Blade and Cheeky were putting on, circling around the pit. Snatches of conversation he overheard when Cheeky was drawing off the beast led him to believe this Great Hunter was a famous killer, and that he was doing something extraordinary by lasting so long against it.
If this was true, no doubt it would help after the fight-if there was an «after.» By now Blade had more doubts about the outcome of this fight than he'd had about any for years. The Great Hunter seemed to have the endurance of a diesel locomotive, rather than a creature of flesh and blood. Cheeky was definitely tiring, and Blade himself was slowly losing blood from his three cuts. Before much longer he would be weakened or slowed down even without taking any more damage from the Great Hunter.
Before that happened, he would have to strike at least one damaging blow. It wouldn't be wise to use his planned trick with Cheeky this soon, so he would have to think of something else, fast. Having eight feet of sudden death, fanged, clawed, and steel-muscled, thundering at his heels will make any man think faster. Blade's wits now worked like one of Lord Leighton's smaller computers, and came up with a possible solution.
At Blade's order, Cheeky began squeaking and squalling to draw the Great Hunter off as he'd done before. The bait worked as well as ever. The huge beast plunged after Cheeky, who scurried along before it, paws scrabbling frantically on the gravel.
The Great Hunter was only a few feet out of reach when Blade cut across in front of it at a dead run. He had scooped up fistful of gravel from a patch of stones that were large enough to hurt. As the Great Hunter stooped, Blade hurled the gravel into its face. The beast howled so fiercely that several women in the audience screamed in terror. Then the beast clawed at its eyes. It kept after Cheeky, though, so Blade didn't assume it was blinded.
At Blade's signal, Cheeky fell silent and darted sideways. Blade shouted, whooped, and cursed, drawing the Great Hunter after him, toward the hot springs. Cheeky ran on ahead, around the hot springs, and on the far side he started squeaking again. Blade fell silent as he reached the edge of the spring, then flung himself into the air in a running broad jump, hoping it would take him clear across. If it didn't-well, the Great Hunter would dine on boiled meat today.
Blade's gamble on his remaining strength paid off. He landed on his feet, scooped up Cheeky, and kept on running. Behind him the Great Hunter reached the edge of the spring and also jumped. It was longer-legged than Blade, but not built as well for jumping. Also, it was jumping without a good view of the far side. It cleared the spring but landed clumsily on its back, howling with new rage and pain.
When it got up, it seemed to be limping and favoring one arm. The crowd shouted in fierce delight, and some of them stood up to see better. The Wise One waved her staff at these eager ones, and they subsided.
Meanwhile, unnoticed by anyone, Cheeky had unhooked his harness and handed it to Blade. Blade knew he could never do serious damage to the Great Hunter without some sort of weapon. Now he was about to get one. He quickly took the harness apart and gave Cheeky the section that would harden into an effective dagger, sharp pointed and sharp edged, with a short handle. Cheeky leaped toward the spring to harden the dagger in the hot water, while Blade dashed off in the opposite direction to keep the Great Hunter on his trail.
The beast was definitely slowed, perhaps in pain, and certainly even angrier than before. At intervals it stopped to pound its chest, let out bloodcurdling screams, and hurl gravel at Blade. It never found stones heavy enough to carry far or hurt much if they did hit. They usually didn't; Blade's attack hadn't done the creature's already dim eyesight any good.
However, the Great Hunter still had both arms in working condition and was moving much too fast for Blade's peace of mind. He was glad to see Cheeky darting away from the spring. The feather-monkey held the dagger aloft with his tail curled around the hilt, using all four paws to run. He reached Blade, raised his tail until Blade could take the dagger, then opened the distance between himself and his master.
The audience was completely, almost oppressively silent. The Wise One's face was still a stone mask, but the acolyte was leaning slightly forward, her full lips parted.
Blade and Cheeky darted toward the Great Hunter from opposite sides. As Cheeky approached he cried out. The Great Hunter stopped, undecided on which prey to seize, both arms outstretched. One hairy wrist was in reach of Blade's knife. The Kaldakan plastic, hardened like steel in the hot spring, slashed down. Fur, skin, and flesh gaped open to the bone, blood spurted, and an unearthly cry of rage, pain, and surprise echoed around the pit. Several hundred human voices joined the uproar.
The Great Hunter was still formidable. It turned toward Blade, lunging with its good arm. Blade sprang backward but not far enough. The hand came down on his left shoulder, fortunately without driving the claws in. Blade twisted free, feeling as if his shoulder were dislocated or his left arm out of its socket. Before the Great Hunter could move again, Cheeky closed in.
He swarmed up the creature's hairy back and gripped its neck with his hind legs and tail. Then he brought his forepaws around and clamped them hard over the creatures eyes. The Great Hunter howled again, shook its head in frustration, and raised its good hand to pluck away this annoyance.
That left Blade with a clear path. He lunged in and up with the dagger. The sharp point drove into the creature's right eye. It nearly took off a couple of Cheeky's fingers as it did, but the point drove deep. The Great Hunter lurched, jerking the dagger out of Blade's hand, and Cheeky leaped free. The creature lunged again, and went down on its knees, both hands groping blindly ahead of it, blood pouring from the slashed wrist.
Blade put both hands on the creature's shoulders, vaulted on to its back, got both arms around the massive neck, and jerked with all his strength. His arms nearly came out of their sockets, but the neck snapped with an entirely satisfactory noise. Then the Great Hunter went limp. Blade staggered to his feet, and all the Rutari around the pit started yelling themselves hoarse.
Blade bent down and picked up the dagger, then pulled out a handful of the dead Great Hunter's coarse fur to wipe the sweat and blood off his skin. Then he saw the matted filth in the fur and threw it aside. He stood silently, until blood and sweat together made a puddle in the gravel at his feet and the shouting died. Considering the exhaustion, loss of blood, strained joints, and narrowness of his victory, Blade would much rather have done almost anything else than to have fought the Great Hunter.
Oh, to lie down and be plied with massages and wine by six beautiful girls. He spat to clear the dust from his mouth and brushed the hair out of his eyes. Next time, if I have to choose between fighting a Great Hunter or going for a ride in a cement mixer, I'll take the cement mixer.
Then the acolyte was running toward him, all dignity and ceremony forgotten. She threw her arms around him and kissed him, and he was suddenly very aware of both his nakedness and hers. She was warm in his arms
and smelled sweet even under the stink of the herbs and potions.
Fortunately the Wise One came down into the pit before Blade and the girl could forget he was still taboo. The Wise One was smiling now, but it was an odd, enigmatic smile. Blade would almost have preferred a glare of open hatred. Then he would have known where he stood. As it was, the Wise One was as much of a mystery as ever.
Chapter 7
The celebration of Blade's victory in the cleansing started almost as soon as he staggered up the side of the pit, with the acolyte on one side and Teindo on the other. It went on all that day and well into the next. Things didn't get back to normal among the Rutari until the day after that, when the last hangover wore off. The Rutari's homebrewed beer was crude, but there was a lot of it, and from somewhere they'd acquired the art of distilling. Their liquor was even cruder than their beer, but Blade couldn't deny that it was potent.
Everyone seemed to have forgotten Awgal, or at least be unwilling to admit that they remembered him. It was as if the young hunter had never been. Blade held his peace. There was more of his cleansing to come, and until it was finished he was neither fish nor fowl among the Rutari.
Not that he wasn't tempted to throw caution to the winds, surrounded by nearly naked young women who made it obvious they wanted him on their sleeping mats as quickly as possible. Blade lost count after the first dozen. None of them seemed to give an empty gourd for the taboos, and some of them said as much in plain language. Apparently war and hunting were so much more dangerous than childbirth among the Rutari that the adult women outnumbered men at least two to one. So unmarried women were as free as the air, and most married women were in polygamous households.
Teindo had three wives, all of whom seemed to have something of a reputation among the women of the Rutari. He finally drove all the other women away from Blade by warning them that his wives had been promised first chance at Blade when he was lawful. Any woman who got to Blade before them-well, he might help them after they were killed for breaking the taboo, but he would do nothing for them until then. The hovering women and girls couldn't have vanished faster if Blade had suddenly turned into a Great Hunter and devoured one of them.
«I thank you, Teindo,» said Blade, offering him a gourdful of liquor.
«It was my duty to save those women from unlawful beddings. The consequences would not speed up what remains of your cleansing.»
«And where is the Wise One?» Blade asked.
Teindo looked at the ground. «She has gone before the Idol, to seek its answer before she completes your cleansing.»
«Does she expect one?»
«Who can speak truly of the Wise One's mind, Blade? And who would dare speak of the Idol's will, save her?» The warning was unmistakable.
Blade decided to take it. «Not I, certainly.»
«You are not too drunk to be wise, Blade.»
«If a man's wits cannot survive much strong water, he does not live to travel as far as I have.»
Teindo seemed satisfied with that answer. Blade accepted a few more congratulations, then returned to his hut. He'd have liked to find out what the Wise One thought of her humiliation at Cheeky's hands, but suspected that anyone who knew wouldn't tell him.
However, Blade had long known that the best thing to do about something you couldn't predict was sleep on it. He curled up on his furs and fell quickly and soundly asleep.
In fact, he not only slept but snored so loudly that Cheeky woke him up several times during the night, squawking indignantly about the noise.
The Wise One spent several more days consulting the Idol of the Rutari, longer than usual. Blade saw Teindo beginning to look worried, and when he looked at Blade, suspicious. Blade made up his mind that if the Rutari tried to confine him he would assume the worst, and he and Cheeky would make a run for it, stark naked if necessary. He wasn't curious enough about telepathy to risk Awgal's fate.
Cheeky assured Blade that he saw eye-to-eye with his master on the matter of running. Blade would have been happier if Cheeky hadn't also been sending out so many mental pictures of Moyla, the Wise One's First Friend. He seemed to have a real passion for her.
At first Blade couldn't avoid thinking that this passion was completely ridiculous. Cheeky was indignant, and managed to get across the message that it was all a matter of what you were used to. Blade had to admit there was sense in Cheeky's argument. If he himself was two feet tall and covered with feathers, Moyla might indeed look like the sexiest thing on four feet!
He still wished Cheeky hadn't fallen in love with Moyla. She might not give two straws for him, and that would be bad. Even worse, she was the loyal familiar of a formidable telepath, who might easily be Blade's and Cheeky's deadly enemy when she returned from the visit to the Idol. How do you convince a feather-monkey from another Dimension that he's about to become a security risk? How do you even explain the concept to him?
At last the Wise One returned. Teindo himself brought word, and also the woman's summons to Blade to appear before her the next morning. Teindo's face was unreadable; Blade could not tell if he was being summoned for execution or to be crowned king of the Rutari. Until the Wise One spoke for herself, the best he could do was keep his eyes and ears open, his mouth shut, and his back to a good solid wall.
«Enter, Blade,» said the voice from inside the hut.
Blade recognized the Wise One's voice. Neither he nor Cheeky had made a sound except for his footsteps; Blade wondered if she read his mind or just made a lucky guess that it was him outside the hut, hoping to frighten him if she was right. Blade pushed through the hide that covered the door and strode in.
Without waiting for the Wise One's permission, he picked a corner of the hut and sat down cross-legged. Cheeky jumped down from his shoulder but stayed close by. From his corner Blade could see the whole hut by the glow of the fire on the hearth in the middle, but he himself was in a shadow. And just as important, nobody could get behind him.
The Wise One and her acolyte, also cross-legged, sat by the hearth. Both wore leather skirts and necklaces of what looked like gold nuggets strung on leather thongs; the Wise One also wore a fur thrown loosely over her shoulders. Their gourds and sacks of potions and herbs were piled nearby, and their smooth skin shone in the firelight as if they'd been rubbed with oil.
The Wise One smiled as Blade took his place in the corner, but said nothing until he'd made himself comfortable. Then her smile widened. It looked almost friendly, as if she really felt no ill will toward him. The acolyte's smile was even wider, but of course Blade knew what she felt toward him.
«Welcome, Blade, to the other part of your cleansing, which is to partake of the kerush. May you do as well tonight as you did the day you faced the Great Hunter. And you need not sit there as if I might call up Those Who Went Before to snatch away your spirit. I can do you no harm with the kerush-magor-the wizard work-unless you call evil up yourself by trying to fight me.»
Blade frowned. She might be telling the truth. Even if she weren't, this might be a good time for plain speaking. He caught a brief mental message from Cheeky: The feather-monkey feared a quarrel between his master and Moyla's mistress. Blade replied with a weary hope that Cheeky would get over his case of the hots for Moyla, then turned to the woman.
«That is easy for you to say, Wise One and-do you have a name, most lovely lady?» to the acolyte.
«You may call me Ellspa.»
«Thank you. As I said, it is easy enough for you to tell me that you will do me no harm with the kerush-magor in this, the other part of my cleansing. But do I hear the truth?»
«Yes.»
«I know nothing to make me sure of that, Wise One.»
«What do you know to make you doubt it?»
«Little enough. But I have lived as long as I have only by not putting myself into the power of those I do not know. To submit to taking the kerush would go against all I have ever learned.»
«You cannot live among us uncleansed,» said the Wise
One. She sounded more sorry than angry about this.
«You seem very sure that I want to live among the Rutari,» said Blade. He raised a hand for silence as both women seemed about to speak at once. «That does not mean I wish to live among the Uchendi tribe, your rivals. It does not even mean I wish the Rutari harm. It only means what I have said-that I may not wish to live among the Rutari enough to give myself up to the kerush.» Blade shifted his position slightly, ready to move fast if the Wise One's next words were a call to the guards outside.
The two women looked at each other for a long time in silence. Then the Wise One sighed. «Blade, it seems we have no power over you to make you do as we wish without our telling you the truth.» He nodded agreement. «I thought so. But-to tell you the truth is to give you knowledge that might do the Rutari much harm in the wrong hands. It is knowledge that only those who have been cleansed-and not even all of those-are permitted to have. Can we at least have your oath, by whatever you hold sacred, that you will do the Rutari no harm with what you learn?»
«I can swear that I will tell none of it to any known enemy of the Rutari, certainly. I have been a guest among you, and in honor I owe you this much. I cannot swear more, because how can I know all of those who may be enemies to the Rutari? I cannot see the future, Wise One.»
Ellspa grinned, but the Wise One looked embarrassed. «I am sorry. I spoke unwisely, asking more than the gods allow. I did not do this to trap you. Will you believe me, and forgive my unwise words?» She sounded genuinely apologetic.
«Certainly I will forgive you. If you will forgive me for Cheeky's-behavior-the day of my first cleansing?»
Blade thought the Wise One was blushing. Certainly Ellspa was holding her breath and biting her lower lip to keep from giggling. Then the Wise One nodded.
