by Джеффри Лорд
The Guardian was making him go way back into his mind to relive his trips to other Dimensions. Now he was in the Dimension of the strange other-England called Englor, facing a biologically-engineered dragon sent against Englor by the Red Flames of Russland. Behind him was an inn and Rylla, the Russland scientist who'd helped develop the dragons before she defected. If he didn't find the dragon's vulnerable spots before it set the inn on fire…
A steel corridor stretching ahead and behind as far as he could see. Other corridors branching off on either side. He was running, with something like a laser in his hand. Around him were other men with lasers, also running, also wearing uniformlike jumpsuits.
He was aboard the Avenger, the giant starship built by Earth's mad dictator Loyun Chard. He and his comrades, aided by a woman named Riyannah from a distant world, were going to destroy the ship to keep Chard from taking death and destruction to the distant stars…
Mist swirling, and in the background vast colored cylinders soaring up toward the sky, so tall their tops seemed to be lost in the mist or the clouds. Hard-packed gravel underfoot, and silence everywhere.
He was standing among the Towers of Melnon, on the ground where they'd fought out their ritualized but deadly combats until Blade took a hand…
The deck of a ship heaving under his feet, the smell of salt air, and the creak of rigging or perhaps oars. Somewhere a rough voice was shouting orders.
He couldn't tell where he was-there'd been so many ships and so many seas in so many Dimensions, and deadly battles in all of them…
A vast blue-lit chamber, with pulsing walls that seemed to be made of living flesh. At the far end a delicate latticework of crystal rods and shining wires, and a terrible presence. Blade had no trouble in recognizing the Ngaa, the Dimension X monster the experimental KALI capsule had unleashed on Home Dimension.
He also had no trouble recognizing the woman in the white nurse's uniform lying on the floor between him and the Ngaa: Zoe Cornwall. His first and truest love, and now he suspected likely to be his last. Snatched into this Dimension of horror because in her love for him she'd battled for his sanity against the Ngaa that had driven him mad.
He ran forward and lifted her in his arms. He could tell that she recognized him. He could also tell that she was dying, that the Ngaa was killing her-
And that this time he would see her death from inside her own mind.
No.
(«No! I will not let you put me through this. I refuse. THERE ARE SOME THINGS YOU CANNOT MAKE ME DO AND THIS IS ONE OF THEM. GET OUT OF MY MIND, YOU FILTHY BARBARIAN GHOUL!»)
The sensation of Zoe in his arms and her mind linked to his vanished in a blur of light so dazzling that Blade cried out from the pain in his eyes. Thunder cracked in his head, then rumbled away into silence.
He felt himself weightless, as if he were in space or falling from a great height. All around him was blue, but somehow it was a saner, more healthy blue than the nightmare light of the Ngaa's chamber of death.
The Guardian was falling beside him, his arms outstretched, looking helpless and even frightened for the first time. It was hard to judge distances in this blueness, but the shaman seemed close enough to reach out and touch.
A great pulsing golden bar was growing rapidly below them. Blade somehow knew that he would fall across the bar and be saved. If he reached out a hand and gripped the Guardian, the man would also be saved. If he let the Guardian fall past the bar, however…
The bar slammed Blade in the stomach so hard all the wind whooossshed out of him. It was a terrifyingly strong physical sensation to have in this world he'd been told was a thing of the mind. It also confirmed his judgment, that he should reach out and catch the Guardian.
Blade balanced himself across the bar so that he could use both hands to reach out. The steel-hard muscles of his arms rippled under the skin as he pulled the Guardian to a stop in midair, then started hauling him in like a gaffed fish. The man's eyes were blank and staring. Blade couldn't help wondering if he'd been too late, if he was hauling in a dead man-
Then he was hauling an unconscious man toward him across the bare earth of the testing place, with a two-handed grip on the man's left wrist. Blade hastily let go. His hands were strong enough to break the shaman's older and smaller bones if he wasn't careful! The arm flopped limply to the ground …. Blade heard a hiss of indrawn breath and an angry muttering all around him.
He looked up. Everyone who wasn't looking at the unconscious Guardian was looking at him, and he didn't like most of the looks. He wasn't sure what he'd done to the Guardian, though he was sure it was an accident. That obviously didn't matter to the circle of witnesses. Blade had never seen anything that looked quite so much like the beginning of a lynch mob.
He wouldn't kill Eye of Crystal or her mother, he decided. He would try not to kill Winter Owl if he could avoid it. The Uchendi would need him if the Guardian was dead or mindless. Anyone else who got in his way had better look out.
Blade bent over the Guardian's wrist and felt for a pulse. One was there, and it was steady but also weak enough to worry Blade. He drew the man toward him, ready to start mouth-to-mouth respiration or even cardiopulmonary resuscitation if he had to.
A howl of rage came from the crowd.
«He works further magic,» shouted someone. «Kill him now.»
Blade stood up, ready to move fast, but just then a hysterical screech from a woman cut through the crowd noises. It might have launched everybody forward to tear Blade to pieces. Instead it stopped everyone who'd started moving, as if they'd stepped into concrete. It was the Guardian's wife Kyarta. She went on screaming as Eye of Crystal tried to hold her up, calm her down, and get her to drink some water all at once.
Before anybody else could do anything wise or foolish, the Guardian groaned and sat up. He looked to Blade like a man suffering from a crashing hangover. However, he was definitely alive and conscious, and possibly even of sound mind. About the sound body, Blade wasn't going to take any bets now.
Blade knelt again, which accomplished two things. It looked like a gesture of respect, and he and the Guardian could talk without strain or the risk of anyone overhearing them.
«I am sorry if I have done you harm,» Blade whispered. «But what you asked of me-I would rather die than give it, no matter to whom.»
The Guardian blinked and seemed to be able to focus on Blade for the first time. «You-die? I was far closer to death than you could have been.»
«That was not my wish.»
«I know. But-I have never been hurled out of a man's mind like that before. I was doomed but for your help.»
«If I have passed my testing-«
«Oh you have, you have,» the Guardian said almost irritably. «You have done so well I think it may have been a waste of my time to test you at all. «
«I thank you,» said Blade. «Now, if I have passed my testing, will you teach me as much about the Wisdom and the Voice as you think I can learn? Clearly you will not be the only man I can put in danger, if I have this kind of strength in my mind.»
Then he looked around the circle and added quickly, «But first, could you tell these people that I have passed the test and you are not hurt? Otherwise I fear I shall not live long enough to be taught anything, or else have to kill some of your people to keep them from killing me.»
The Guardian managed to laugh. «Certainly, Blade of the English. If you will help me to stand…»
Blade pulled the Guardian to his feet and then held him with a hand under one arm as he spoke to the crowd. «Put down your weapons and set aside your anger,» he began. He had to repeat himself twice before anyone heard him, and twice more before people started obeying. Then he had to be quiet until he'd caught his breath.
«Blade of the English has passed his testing. He is a good man, with a great power, but his people did not teach him how to use it to the fullest.»
«He used that power against you!» shouted River Over Stones. «How can he be withi
n the law?» Mutters of agreement.
«Do you know the law better than I? Is it the custom that a barely fledged warrior shall dispute He Who Guards the Voice?» That silenced River Over Stones, but not the muttering.
«Blade is a mighty warrior. His strength and his skill and his heart are all good, though he does not know all that he ought to know about using them. He has traveled far, fought in many lands, and used strange and magical weapons. I have seen them, and I have also seen that he always used them lawfully, against unlawful enemies.»
«Then why did he fight you?» said someone. He didn't sound angry now, just curious. That was a considerable improvement.
The Guardian whispered, «Blade, I must tell the tale of your-dying woman-before they will understand. May I?» Blade nodded.
«The last memory I reached was the death of the woman he loved most, at the hands of a great and evil magician.» Blade supposed that was as good a description of the Ngaa as any other these people would understand. «He would not live through her death again, so he drove me from his mind. He did not wish me harm, only that I should not know something that indeed I did not need to know, because it was very painful for him to think of it.»
The Guardian seemed to glare at each person in the circle of witnesses in turn. «Who here has not lost one they loved? And who here would care to live through the moment of that death again? If there is one among you who would not fear to do that, he may speak against Blade. Everyone else will keep silent or face my anger.»
The silence was agreeably long. Blade reflected again on how the Guardian could control a crowd. He knew that if the shaman had spoken against him, the people would have swarmed over him and torn him to pieces with their bare hands no matter how many he killed. When it came to being either a good friend or a deadly enemy, He Who Guards the Voice of the Uchendi made the Wise One of the Rutari look like a child.
The Guardian turned toward Blade. «It seems our day's work is done. I thank you for your help. As for teaching you-may we speak of that another day? I am not against the idea. But I am more in favor of food, sleep, and beer now. Travel into the Sphere of Wisdom can be as hard as war ….»
If Blade hadn't known before that telepathy could be hard work, he knew now. He wasn't sleepy, but he very much wanted to sit down. Sweat was streaming off him, and his mouth felt like a lump of charcoal. Sitting down and letting Eye of Crystal serve him hot food and cool beer did seem the best way to spend the rest of the day.
«And of course, my daughter will be glad to honor you by serving you,» said the Guardian.
Blade was fairly sure he hadn't felt any telepathic contact from the Guardian just then-but then, did a loving, observant father need telepathy to know when his daughter was attracted to a man?
Chapter 16
«More beer?» said Eye of Crystal.
Blade held up his empty wooden cup and contemplated it by the light of the fire in his hut. Good. He saw only one cup. It was too early in the evening for him to be so drunk that he was seeing two cups, particularly since he'd only been drinking beer.
However, he was in a mood to celebrate. «Do you have anything stronger?»
«Stronger? How?»
«More-more of what there is in beer to make you-«
«Piss a lot?»
Blade laughed. «That wasn't quite what I had in mind. «He tried to explain alcohol, then wine and distilled beverages. Unlike the Rutari, the Uchendi apparently hadn't invented distilling.
«There is winter ale,» said Eye of Crystal dubiously. «It is stronger than summer ale, in the way that you talk about. Are you stronger than it?»
«I am stronger than anything men can make to drink,» said Blade with mock bravado. Except some really Godawful cheap Turkish raki he and a friend and fellow agent (now dead) had drunk once, to celebrate a minor victory. Come to think of it, he still wasn't quite sure the stuff hadn't been poisoned. Probably not by the Russians, though-more likely by the brothel-keeper they'd put out of business in the process of uncovering the Russian listening post.
«You are sure?» Crystal's gaze started by focusing on the bridge of Blade's nose. She wasn't entirely sober either. Then the gaze wandered downward, past Blade's chin, over his chest and stomach, and down a little farther. There it stopped.
Blade poured himself some more beer from the jug and raised the cup in salute. «I'm very sure.»
As Blade drank, some of the beer slopped over the rim of the cup and fell onto his bare chest. Eye of Crystal knelt beside him, bent over his chest, and began licking the beer off Blade's skin. Her tongue darted in and out, lapping up the beer and wetting her full lips. They were very red lips, although the Uchendi used no cosmetics except the warriors' war paint.
That flickering tongue and its warm caresses on his skin were slowly hypnotizing Blade with pleasure. He hardly cared. Then the sensations of Crystal's tongue gave way to another one, stronger and more familiar. She was bending so low that her full breasts were pressing against his chest.
Blade felt small but firmly erect nipples and the lovely give of breasts changing shape under pressure. Crystal was also feeling it. Her eyes were closed, and one hand was now creeping down Blade's stomach.
Crystal unhooked Blade's loinguard and pushed it aside. She held Blade's manhood, warm fingers teasing as skillfully as the tongue. Blade groaned happily-
«Strong enough, yes,» she murmured.
Blade would have been almost past saying anything, but fortunately no words were needed. Eye of Crystal pulled away from Blade just long enough to untie the drawstring of her leather skirt, her only garment. It slid down over her well-rounded hips. As it reached the floor she stepped aside, too eager to move gracefully. She nearly fell, and Blade had to reach up and balance her as she lowered herself into place.
Blade savored the moment of entry. He always had, from the first time he'd ever had a woman. There were lots of other pleasures in sex, of course, but this was certainly one of the biggest and best. From the way Crystal closed her eyes and let her mouth sag open, Blade suspected she felt the same.
In fact, this was the best Blade had ever felt. He couldn't put his finger on exactly why. So he put all his fingers on Crystal's breasts. They were skilled fingers, as quite a few women had told him. So did Crystal, although she didn't use words. She kept her eyes closed and moaned quietly, then not so quietly.
Blade tried to keep quiet for a while. He was just about to lose the fight when he realized what was happening to make this sex different from all the other times.
He and Crystal were in telepathic contact. Only slightly, less than he'd ever had with Cheeky, but now that he knew what to look for, he recognized the odd feeling in his mind. Odder than usual, because he had the sense of both entering and being entered, of being both himself and Crystal.
He gasped, partly in triumph, partly because he couldn't stay quiet any more. Then he realized something else. Crystal was close to her climax. Either she hadn't had a man in a long time or the telepathic link was increasing her pleasure.
It wasn't doing so badly for Blade, either. He knew that his own control was slipping-slipping, the devil! It was just about gone, he was on the edge, he was going over-
He stopped. Or rather, he was stopped. Crystal was not only in his mind, but she was passing through his mind into his body. Into one particular part of his body.
She was holding back his climax until she reached her own.
It made sense. Blade knew that, with the small part of his mind that still held the power of reason. A very small part, by now. When it came to analytical thought, being on the verge of climax was almost as distracting as being in the middle of it.
He also wasn't sure he liked the sensation. Physically, it was marvelous. It was agony, but it was also delicious, and he wouldn't have minded it's going on for hours.
But this amount of control by the woman? For all Blade knew, the women were supposed to crack the whip in sex among the Uchendi. He had just enough old-fash
ioned male vanity to resent her control. He also had the sense to suppress his resentment because Crystal was reading his thoughts. She would detect any hostility.
Then she might retaliate. Blade doubted that his manhood was the only part of his body she could control while they were linked telepathically. Her father could certainly do more, and only sheer luck had saved Blade from harming the Guardian in their meeting. He wouldn't have the kind of control he needed to do that again, not this time, not with Crystal all around him, warm and tight and sliding furiously up and down, her pubic hair tickling him, swaying forward until her breasts brushed his chest, farther forward until she could bite his shoulder, her arms tightening around him until she was plastered against him. His control was going but so was hers…
Blade didn't groan. He howled like a madman as his hips bucked and thrashed and pounded himself into Crystal. The woman clung frantically to him as her pelvis took on a life of its own, as if he was a log she had to ride through foaming rapids.
At last she screamed, a scream muffled in Blade's chest and her own hair. She screamed again, then the scream turned into happy sobbing.
At last Crystal was silent and Blade caught his breath. She lay on top of him, still snugly fitted to him, and giggled.
«I caught you by surprise, with the Voice. Didn't I, Blade?»
«You did.»
«You say the Voice is not unknown among the English, just not lawful or much taught?»
«Yes. All the English women I knew who had the Voice were unlawful for me to bed. So I never had the Voice with a woman at the same time I was in her.» He grinned. «Next time I'll know what I'm doing.»
She laughed out loud. «You mean, this was your first time with a woman. You-ouch!» He pinched her admirably firm and rounded buttocks.
«No, it was not my first time bedding a woman. Nor will it be my last time bedding you.»
