by Джеффри Лорд
Chapter 11
The day of the Hunters' Long Race dawned cloudy and windy but dry. Blade would have preferred fog or even rain, even if it made parts of the race heavy going. Fog would hide him from the sharp-eyed Rutari hunters, and rain would diminish the Great Hunters' ability to smell and hear if they were sent after him.
However, here in the mountains it was early summer and the autumn rains were months away. He would just have to run like the devil and trust his luck and skill at evasion for the rest. The Rutari were undoubtedly good trackers, but Blade refused to believe they were supermen, even with the help of the Great Hunters and telepathy. And since the alternative to running was staying among the Rutari until his distaste for their customs betrayed both him and Cheeky-well, that was no alternative at all.
The starting line was at the bottom of the village, made of fifty carved stones, one for each runner. Blade studied the stones carefully. They were sacred, kept under the Wise One's care most of the year and only brought out for important rituals such as the Long Race. He'd also heard it said that these stones were carved in the shape of the head of one of the Idol Makers who had made great magic among the Rutari.
Unfortunately the stones were worn and the carving had been stylized to begin with. He couldn't even tell if the stones showed a living creature, let alone the head of one, or what kind. So much for his last hope of finding out about the Idol Makers and the Idol before he left the Rutari!
At least the Uchendi would also know something about the Idol Makers. After all, the Idol had originally been theirs, before the Rutari declared a holy war on the other tribe and stole it. If Blade had better luck winning cooperation among the Uchendi from somebody besides lusty women…
The first leg of the race ran north, the second south. Blade planned to take leave of the Rutari on the northbound leg. It would mean farther to go to safety, since the Uchendi were to the south, but it would also confuse the Rutari about what happened to him. They might think he'd suffered an accident and spend days looking for his body, while a live Richard Blade tramped south toward the plains.
The drum sounded to call the runners to their marks. Blade stripped off his clothes down to his loinguard and piled them in the sacred circle with the weapons and clothes of the other runners. He'd be leaving the Rutari in his bare skin and the Kaldakan plastic harness and wrist braces. He could only hope that the compass, knife, and other gear he'd be leaving behind wouldn't teach the Rutari too much. Cheeky might be able to explain some of it, but that wouldn't be entirely bad; it would earn the feather-monkey the Wise One's goodwill and make his position secure. He was no longer bitter about Cheeky's desertion; now he wished the feather-monkey as long and happy a life among the Rutari as he could reasonably expect.
The drums thudded again, longer and louder. Blade stepped up to his rock and began his warming-up exercises.
Ten miles into the race, Blade had to admit that he'd underestimated the difficulties of his plan. It didn't help that much of the trouble really wasn't his fault. If he'd been allowed out of the village, he'd have got a better idea of what the race course was like.
The problem was that he'd expected to be out of sight of any other runner for many minutes, even an hour, at a time. It wasn't working out that way. So far he could see a good mile either way, and three or four other runners could always see him.
He had allowed for this-he thought he would simply move out so far in front that he'd have the course to himself. However, he hadn't expected most of the Rutari to be such good runners! Blade was a first-class long-distance runner; he'd kept up with Zungan warriors on their native plains, and run some of them to exhaustion. But he hadn't spent all his life walking and running over the rugged hills the Rutari called home. If he did manage to get out ahead, he'd be too exhausted to run much farther to escape.
Blade settled down to a pace he could maintain without strain, no longer trying to keep out of sight of his fellow runners. His legs moved like the pistons of an engine and his heavily muscled arms swung like pendulums, pumping the chill mountain air into his massive chest. Gravel sprayed out from under his pounding feet, and dust caked him where rivers of sweat didn't wash it away.
Rivers. That got Blade to thinking. The River of Life was the biggest and best-known river in the land of the Rutari. But it wasn't the only one. One of the others lay about two miles ahead, if Blade's memory served him right. Also, he recalled a hunter saying that the course of the race ran along cliffs beside the river for at least a mile. «A sure foot and a keen eye are needed there more than speed,» the man said. «No man who fell into the Hungry Waters has ever come out alive.»
That might be true for the Rutari, who were a hill folk; most of them could not swim. Richard Blade, on the other hand, could swim like a fish.
That was as far as he dared plan until he'd seen the cliff and the Hungry Waters. It still sounded like a good chance. He'd be breaking away in daylight, with plenty of time before dark, and he wouldn't have to spend days in Rutari land retracing his steps.
Blade settled down to his regular distance-devouring lope, as steadily as the ground allowed. Before another half mile, he felt the ground rising underfoot. Then it dipped through a stand of the blue-leaved trees. They exhaled an odd scent, like a cross between cinnamon and tar. Ahead, Blade saw the trail of a Great Hunter and beside the path a pile of its dung. No danger of attack here, though, with all the men alert and moving fast.
Beyond the trees the ground started to rise again. Within a hundred yards it was rising more steeply than anywhere before in the race. The path zigzagged back and forth up the face of a granite mass with a surface so rough even Blade's leather-tough soles felt it.
Then they were out under the open sky again, speeding along the cliff by the Hungry Waters. One look told Blade why the river had that name. The water boomed and roared dark and swift through a black-walled canyon more than fifty feet deep. At times it leaped over boulders, churning itself into foam. In a few places the foam turned into spray, veiling everything beyond.
Blade hoped what lay beyond wasn't waterfalls or rapids full of jagged boulders. This cliff really was his best chance, possibly his only one, and it wasn't going to last even a mile. Already he could see the first of the men ahead of him turning away from the Hungry Waters.
Well, here l go for the Rutari High Diving Championship, he thought, looking for the best place to jump. There was a nice pool just ahead, but the cliff above was so solid nobody would ever believe he'd stumbled. Just beyond that, though-
It would have to do. As Blade approached the overhang, he drew his hand across his eyes, as if sweat was beginning to blind him. Then he started to weave back and forth, getting a little closer to the cliff's edge each time. He heard a shout of warning from a man behind him; his act seemed to be working.
Up onto the overhang itself now, Blade found the footing slick and unpredictable; the spray was reaching high here. He took a longer step than usual, judged his distance, and let his right leg collapse under him.
The man behind shouted again as Blade toppled off the overhang and plunged into the Hungry Waters.
It was going to be dark soon. Cheeky hoped the Mistress Wise One and her friend Ellspa would be through talking before it was. Moyla said bad Spirits walked in the night, and the Wise One could call them up. So if the Mistress grew angry with Cheeky, she could do bad things to him much more easily in the darkness than in the light.
There was nothing Cheeky could do about it, though. So he sat in the corner and listened to the talk between the women. They were not using the spirit speech but were talking out loud, which made it hard for him to understand. But one of the things that had come to him with the power to have strong thoughts was the power to remember anything he heard, even if he did not understand. He wanted to remember what he heard now, because the Master Blade would want to know about it-if the Master Blade was still alive. The women knew more about that than Cheeky did, but even they were not sure.
«Who has ever come out of the Hungry Waters alive, in all the time since there were Rutari?» said the Wise One. She seemed angry with something or somebody, perhaps Ellspa.
«No one.»
«Then why do you think Blade is the first?»
«I have a sense about him, that he is not as other men. His coming means something for the Rutari. I do not believe he will die until we know what that is.»
«You dream, Ellspa.» The Wise One was smiling, but she did not seem to find Ellspa's words really funny. «And I think what you dream of is having the Blade back in your furs for a long time.»
«Perhaps,» said Ellspa.
«Then why do you wish us to send hunters into all the valleys and up all the hills to seek Blade? If he's alive and they find him, he may still have done some unlawful act that will send him to the Great Hunters. Then you would get no pleasure from having him-«
Now it was Ellspa who was angry. Cheeky was certain of that, because she was sending out anger so strongly. «I am not ruled by my loins the way you seem to think, Wise One. If Blade has done evil, then let him be punished. If he has done good, then so much the better. But I cannot imagine that he has done nothing. I will go alone into the mountains myself rather than admit that.»
«I will forbid you to do any such thing, Ellspa.»
«You may forbid. Can you stop me?»
«I can certainly do so more easily than Blade could have lived in the Hungry Waters.»
«I have learned more than you think, Wise One. You might not find me easy to stop.»
«You would challenge me, at a time like this, when you yourself say that there is danger for the Rutari?»
«Yes, I would challenge you, if I was sure you did not deserve your name.»
The two women were now glaring at each other, their arms and legs stiff, and their minds both sending out anger. Cheeky thought of two cats about to fight. He sensed that Moyla was unhappy about this, and put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. He had no thoughts of himself now that he was concerned for her.
The anger between the two women lasted for a little while longer. Then the Wise One put her arms around Ellspa and showed grief. «Ellspa, I am sorry. Perhaps you have had a true vision. But I do say that you are as yet too young to be able to know this for certain. Shall we go together before the Idol and ask it what has happened to the Blade?»
Ellspa smiled and kissed the Wise One. «Yes, we can go before the Idol. Since we took it from the Uchendi, it has always given us wisdom, in gratitude for being out of their hands. It is as well to know soon if I am seeing the truth or only dreaming the dreams of a girl.»
«Yes. And if we learn that the Blade is alive and dangerous to the Rutari, there are other things we can do about him than send our men to fall off cliffs after him!» They both laughed.
«May I take Cheeky with me to the Idol?» Ellspa then asked. Cheeky gently took his hand off Moyla's shoulder. Now he would be sure to have thoughts he did not want anyone to hear.
«You think he will become your First Friend or at least tell you about the Blade?»
«Maybe. But-I would like to be kind to him. He does not deserve to be unhappy, no matter what his Master has done.» What Ellspa was feeling told Cheeky that she was mostly telling the truth. She did hope to learn from him things about the Blade she did not know, but she also really wanted to make him happy.
Cheeky went over to Ellspa, yeeeped softly, and jumped up on her shoulder. «See,» she said. «He understands me. In time, maybe he will be my First Friend. Now-can I take him with me to the Idol?»
«Yes.»
Cheeky jumped down before there was any chance Ellspa could know why he was so happy and excited. He would learn where the Idol was and maybe even what it was. Then if the Master Blade was alive, and they ever met again, he would be able to tell Blade the things he most wanted to know! Then the Master Blade might forgive him for staying with Moyla.
However, that would be giving Blade something the Rutari did not want him to know. He would be making Ellspa unhappy after she tried to make him happy. The Wise One also might get angry with Ellspa, and punish her. Cheeky felt almost ashamed of himself for doing this to the woman. He knew it was a good thing to do for the Master Blade, but he very much wished the Master Blade was here so they could talk about it before he actually had to do it.
The Master Blade was not here, though. Cheeky would have to do what had to be done alone. For the first time he understood something about what the Master Blade felt all the times he had to do something like this alone.
Chapter 12
Richard Blade was still alive, but it wasn't because the Hungry Waters didn't live up to their name. As he'd once said, «I suppose I'm too stupid to know when I'm supposed to lie down and die. So I never do.»
The spray threw off his judgment of the height of the cliff, so he hit the water before he was ready. He went deep, striking the bottom and swallowing a throatful of icy water before he started to rise. Then he shot to the surface like a cork, just in time for a wave to submerge him again. This bobbing up and down went on for quite a while, and if Blade hadn't been able to get a breath each time he surfaced he would probably have drowned.
Finally he reached a calmer part of the river. It turned out to be calmer only because the water boomed through a stretch of the canyon as straight as a pipe. Blade slammed against rocks several times, fortunately receiving only glancing blows. He wasn't hurt except for some bruises and loss of a certain amount of skin, but he was soon bleeding enough to notice. At least he didn't have to worry about the blood attracting sharks!
He'd just started to catch his breath when he went over a waterfall. It must have been a good thirty feet high, straight down into a pool so deep Blade didn't worry about hitting bottom. He shot down and down and down into it, until the light began to fade and he started wondering if he would get back to the surface before his breath ran out. Or was he going to be sucked into an underwater cave, just for variety?
Neither happened. His head popped into fresh air, and he trod water until his lungs were back to normal. Then he looked around. The pool was broad enough to slow down the current. It was also far enough downstream from where he'd jumped that the runners' path was nowhere in sight. He still swam underwater most of the way to the far bank, in case some of the runners who'd seen his accident left the path to look for him.
As soon as he felt bottom under his feet, he stood with only his head out of the water, scanning the runners' side of the river. The slope on his side was gentle, but as bare of covering as a stripteaser at the end of her act. Anybody who reached the other bank before Blade got over the crest would see him standing out like a fly on a plate.
No sign of anyone, though. Blade swam the last few yards to shore underwater, surfaced, took several deep breaths, then charged out of the water. He didn't slow down until he was over the crest of the slope, then looked back at the opposite bank from the cover of a boulder.
He saw nobody, and he'd heard no shouts as he ran. Blade checked his plastic harness and wrist bracers and found himself grinning. Except for these bits of plastic he was practically back to where he'd been in the early days of the Project-alone and nearly naked, in a land full of dangers, both human and natural.
This time, though, he knew most of the dangers, including the Rutari and the Great Hunters. He knew where he was going and roughly how far he had to go to get there. He could even hope for a friendly reception when he arrived. Considering how easily he'd survived so many bare-arsed landings in entirely new Dimensions, there was nothing to worry about now.
Or at least nothing to worry about as far as his own survival was concerned. Leaving Cheeky behind was another matter.
On the morning of the fourth day after he climbed out of the Hungry Waters, Blade was perched in the branches of one of the blue-leaved trees, watching the camp of what he assumed was an Uchendi hunting party. At least they weren't Rutari, and Blade hadn't heard of a third major tribe in
this Dimension.
Five of the six hunters in the party had left at dawn, just after Blade settled into place. They'd left a hunter who was lying down with a bandaged leg, a small boy, and a good-looking if somewhat plump young woman. Blade could tell this because the Uchendi wore about as much as the Rutari. The girl wore a leather headband, sandals with throngs to the knee, and something like a set of dyed leather swimming trunks. This left a lot of well-rounded bronzed skin exposed to Blade's eyes.
The girl and the boy had just finished changing the bandage on the injured hunter's leg. The boy went off toward the bank of a nearby stream, carrying a sack. The girl built up the fire until a large clay pot was bubbling nicely, then started dropping the bones of yesterday's kill into the water. When the pot was full, she banked up the fire to keep it simmering, then picked up a bulging sack and went to feed the hunters' mounts.
The lizard-horses of the Uchendi had even longer legs than those of the Rutari; they reminded Blade more of spiders than of anything intended for riding by human beings. The girl had to reach up to feed them, but she seemed to have a way with them, cooing and clucking until they lowered their heads to nibble their food from her hand. Blade watched her move among the animals, admiring the way her black braids swung down her back and the springiness of her breasts-
A high-pitched scream came from the stream. The girl whirled and the hunter sat up in time to see the boy sprinting frantically back toward the camp. His eyes and mouth were wide with terror, and he had good reason for it. Behind him lumbered one of the Great Hunters. It didn't look like a full-grown specimen, but it was still taller than Blade and probably strong enough to strangle him one-handed. Devouring the three Uchendi would only whet his hearty appetite.
Blade swung down to a lower branch, then dropped to the ground on the far side of the tree and began searching for some large round stones. He had the only weapon that would give any of them a chance against the Great Hunter. It wasn't a very good chance, but the other choices were either running like a rabbit or watching the Great Hunter slaughter the Uchendi.
