by Jeffrey Lord
"I have given you large satisfaction," he said boldly, "yet you offer me only a small favor. Is this worthy of a great queen?"
The blue painted eyelids twitched. "You are still too impudent, Blade, and still do not understand your position. Grant that you are a great stallion, with a bear bone such as I have never known, yet it gains you nothing special. You are alive, man! Alive! Yet you do not seem grateful."
He must go very cannily now, but he thought boldness was still the ploy.
"Only a small man is satisfied with small things," he said. "I am not a small man and I do not accept small favors. I would have the life of my man, and the safety of the Lady Taleen."
With her eyes closed she traced her fingers over his cheek. The nails were long and blue painted. "You please me, Blade, you greatly please me. It may be that Frigga has sent me a true man at last. Yet how can I know? The test is over the long journey, not a single trip. And there is much you do not understand were I not cruel and ruthless, and without pity in my heart, I could not rule here in Craghead. My people are so, and expect me to be so, and if I weaken I am done. I cannot grant what you ask me, Blade. Not in total. Yet there may be a chance if you are man enough."
When he would have questioned her further she bade him be silent and closed his mouth with her own. She laved his body with her tongue and searched him inch by inch with her fingers. She bade him watch while she titillated herself and then sought his body for final pleasure. She demanded copulation in grotesque positions that Blade, for all his experience, had only guessed at heretofore. She suckled him to massive climax, swallowing his seed greedily, then produced a water clock from behind an arras and gave him a quarter hour to regain his readiness. Blade made it.
She doubled the scarlet girdle, whipped him lightly with it and at last permitted Blade to mount her, the first time he had been granted the dominant position.
Blade forgot his exhaustion and rammed into her like any wild beast in heat. For the better part of an hour he strove on her, while she uttered little screams and moans and begged for more, refusing to let him go. He knew her demented and himself in little different case. To probe her belly, to hurt her, to split her raw and bleeding, became his sole aim in life.
Her lithe young-old body was bathed in sweat. Blade hammered away. It was a sexual saturnalia he had not known before, and knew he would not know again, nor wanted to, but for the moment he was as much a senseless creature as she.
In a rare moment of sanity, looking into her contorted face, he saw that her teeth were false, cunningly contrived of some animal bone. Her wig fell away and her head was clipped and bare, with gray stubble showing.
In the end it was she who cried quits, as Blade had sworn she would. She arched high, screamed once in piercing crescendo, and went lax under him. She pushed him away.
"Go now, Blade. Go at once." She kept her eyes closed. "I will not look on you again now, for I am surfeit, and I know my own moods. If you were an ordinary man I would have you killed now. So go quickly! Your wants will be seen to."
Blade stood over her, fighting back nausea, his brawny legs trembling with weariness and something of self-disgust. Her wig had tumbled to the floor beside the couch and in the fading candle gleam she was a bald-pated hag with a painted skull for face.
And yet he dared. "My man? And the Princess Taleen? Surely I have earned their safety this night."
She turned her face from him, ready for sleep, and he heard her whisper.
"I cannot grant you that, Blade. My people must have a show. They want blood and entertainment. It is how I rule them. But you have earned the right to try. This very day you shall be given the opportunity to save them and yourself. This much I promise. Now go before I forget how you have pleasured me and have you killed!"
There was movement behind the leather hangings and two of the maidens entered. One of them picked up the black robe and spread it over the sleeping Queen. Then, without looking at Blade directly, they conducted him to the door by which he had entered and turned him over to armed men.
He was not returned to the oubliette where Sylvo waited if he still lived but was taken to a large chamber hewn out of the living stone. He was given food and drink and there was a pile of skins in a corner for sleeping. The guards left him and he heard a great bar slotted into place.
One small barred window overlooked the battlements. Blade, weary to the marrow, stared through the bars and wondered what the day would bring. For day had come,gray, dank and misty, with the surf moaning like a lost soul in the fog below. Around him the castle was coming awake, with the familiar sounds of dawn and a great clanking of iron and bronze as the guard was changed.
He thought of Taleen, wondering where she was kept and how she fared. It was not likely she would come to harm not if Beata planned to ransom her back to King Voth of the North and yet there was no surety of this. Beata and Voth were brother and sister and there is no hatred so fierce and unrelenting as blood hate.
Blade's smile was faint as he turned from the window. He would not have harm come to Taleen. She was an irksome child yet not so much child that she did not at times tempt his flesh and he would be glad to see the last of her. Yet she figured large in his plans. In a way he was holding Taleen to ransom as much as was the queen for through the princess, Blade meant to earn the good will of Voth and so come to some status and independence in this new world in which he must live. As live he would. As live he must! He vowed it fiercely. Then, being a practical man and having need of his strength for whatever new ordeal lay ahead that day, he threw his body atop the pile of skins and was fast asleep in a minute.
Chapter Nine
Before the slaughter Blade was given leave to speak briefly with Taleen and Sylvo. Both were tied to stakes in the great inner court of Craghead castle, where a madding and blood-thirsty throng of Queen Beata's subjects had assembled to see the fun. The Queen was generous on these days, and in these matters: long tables laden with viands were waiting, and there was an abundance of wine and beer for all. The day was dark and dank, with a cold sea mist sweeping in to cloak the castle and muffle sounds.
The sea fog did not succeed in muffling the ferocious snarls of the caged bears.
"Thunor save us now!" said Sylvo. It was the first time Blade had seen the man show real fear. Sylvo, trussed to his stake with cord, was spattered with the straw and dung of the oubliette, and his squint and harelip brought him little sympathy from the crowd. He had a criminal hangdog look even Blade could not gainsay this and so was cruelly baited. Even so, and despite his fear, the man was alert and bright of eye as he whispered to Blade.
"I know, master, that if Thunor saves us it must be with your aid. So listen you well there is a chance if you can kill one of the bears quickly. At once. They eat each other, these beasts, and if you can strike one down the other may fall upon him and so give you time. And time, master, is what you must have. You see how the stakes are placed? This is not accident, master. The Queen Beata may Thunor drive a spear through her evil heart has given you a grievous choice, master."
This was truth. The stakes had been placed some fifty feet apart, so that Blade could defend only one of them at a time. He must make a choice between Sylvo and Princess Taleen.
Blade, as he listened to Sylvo, swung the mighty bronze axe in his right hand and looked to where Beata sat on a wooden throne beneath a canopy. He tried to fathom her thinking. She was not a fool, and he did not think her likely to sacrifice Taleen merely to please the mob and without profit to herself. Sylvo, on the other hand, was of no importance at all and his death might provide entertainment enough.
Another thing made Blade wonder there was a squad of archers drawn up near each stake, behind crude barriers, and at the moment one of the queen's officers was giving them orders. Blade thought he could guess at those orders. He was to be given a chance to defend himself, and Sylvo and Taleen, from the bears. If he could do it, so much the better. The populace would have their show and the only
loss would be three slain bears.
Queen Beata was gambling that Blade would elect to defend Taleen, thus leaving Sylvo to be torn to bits. This, or so Blade reckoned now, would satisfy the blood lust of the people and Beata could call it off when she would, and save Blade and the princess for other things Blade for her perverted pleasures, Taleen for ransom and power over her hated brother Voth.
So the archers were placed as safeguards, to take over and slay the bears in case matters got out of hand. Blade's grin was hard. He would nearly have wagered Aesculp, the bronze axe they had returned to him, that he had figured the matter correctly.
But as he clapped Sylvo on the shoulder now and spoke encouragement, both he and the servant knew the truth: if it came down to the bone of the matter Blade would have to save Taleen and let Sylvo die.
Sylvo signified his understanding with a wink of his better eye. "I know you will do your best, master, but I am nothing beside the lady. We both know that. But by Thunor's cods do not forget that you are a wizard and make the most of it."
Blade smote him again on the shoulder, very gently, and left him. There was nothing more to say.
A silence fell on the crowd as Blade walked to Taleen's stake. They had not seen a man like this before, and the silence gave way to a low buzzing as if they realized they would not see his like again.
Blade strode with a supreme confidence that belied his inner thoughts. He made a brave figure as he twirled the great axe as easily as any toothpick, the keen bronze glinting in the dull light. His hair had grown long, and his beard thick, and he used a riband begged of the guards to keep his hair back away from his eyes. He was stripped to breeches and cross-gaitering, barefoot to get a better grip on the muddy earth, and as he moved the great muscles of his shoulders and chest rippled beneath his swarthy skin.
The bears, in wheeled cages near the throne of Beata, exploded into a new frenzy of horrendous growls as if they scented and identified their enemy.
Princess Taleen stood proudly, her head high and her brown eyes sparkling with defiance, as Blade approached. Her tunic had been ripped away to her waist and her small breasts, girlish yet full enough, thrust as defiantly as the firm chin. Cold had hardened her nipples into firm brown buttons.
Blade, though he knew her to be ambivalent and wayward, and his longing to be rid of her was real enough,could not but admire her now. She might be terrified of Drus, or of dark forest shadows, but there was no trace of fear in the face of a very real and horrible death. Or perhaps she had fathomed the Queen's plan, as had Blade.
Not so. Taleen was first to speak.
"She means to have my death, Blade. As she means to spare you for her filthy pleasure. See that you make her pay for it! I ask this, Blade. Nay I beg it. I beg I who am a true born princess of Voth."
He stopped several feet away from her. Beata was watching and he did not want to show concern too plainly. Blade spoke what was in his heart.
"You are a brave lass, Taleen. Continue so. I will do as best I can, and I think you not in as much danger as appears. Beata sports with you and me. It is poor Sylvo she means to die. I am sure of it."
Taleen's smooth brow creased in thought, her luminous brown eyes calm and intent on Blade as she pondered this.
"Then save your man," she commanded. "He is a scurvy pick-purse who has cheated the hangman too often, but he is your man and you owe it him. Yet I think you wrong Beata means to have my death, one way or the other. I am not a fool, Blade, nor the child you think, and I can see a thing that is plain before my face. So I command it if it lies between the two of us you will save your man. Then revenge me!"
He smiled at her and winked so that only she saw. "I will save the two of you," he said. And knew it to be a brave boast that might well come back to haunt him.
The crowd grew restless again and Blade was summoned to the throne.
Queen Beata this noon was resplendent in saffron robes that went ill with her complexion, heavily painted though she was. Her wig was freshly cleaned and curled. She studied Blade with narrow dark eyes and leaned to tap him on one stalwart shoulder. Her smile was thick with scarlet lip salve and behind it the animal bone teeth glinted dull white.
Her whisper was sibilant. "I have been thinking on the matter, Blade, and I would have you live. Defend the girl and let your man die. I have given orders. But you must make a brave show of it these stupid peasants of mine must have blood and entertainment today. Go now and do well. I will come to you again tonight." He could not mistake the message in those jaded eyes.
Blade raised Aesculp in salute to her. "I am ready, Queen. Bring on your bears."
He turned and ran back to the spot he had selected, midway between the two stakes. The bear cages were wheeled forward through a gap in the temporary barrier.
The keepers unwittingly played Blade's game. They had not been warned and Blade's thinking was right. They uncaged the bears one at a time, thus granting him a precious minute or two.
The first bear came shambling out of the cage, rearing and snarling, froth dripping from two enormous saber fangs in the upper lip. The creature was ten feet tall as it stood on its hind legs and sniffed about, all the while emitting horrible noises from a massive chest. It was thick furred, tipped with silver, and the little eyes were canny and feral as it spotted Taleen and waddled toward her. Blade had killed grizzlies in his other life, and this beast was like enough, though as a babe is to a full grown man.
Blade swung the bronze axe in a glittering circle around his head and charged the bear, shouting a deep voiced and wordless war cry to attract its attention.
"Hooaaaaaaaahhhh hoooaaaaahhhh "
The bear scented woman flesh and ignored Blade. Blade plunged in to the attack, seeing another bear just coming out of its cage.
He swung Aesculp, a mighty blow that buried the blade in the animal's thick chest. The enraged bear wheeled and cuffed at the man with two inch claws that could disembowel at a stroke. Blade ducked in under the blow and tugged at the bronze axe trapped deep in fur and flesh.
The bear sought to embrace Blade, to crush the man, and at the same time to bury the saber teeth in his flesh. Blade tugged the axe free and skipped nimbly back from danger, as yet untouched. He saw the second bear making for Sylvo. Time was very short, for Sylvo was the one meant to die.
The first bear, forgetting the girl in its rage, came after Blade. It must be done quickly. Blade whirled the axe to gain power, then leaped in again with a fierce cry. He had swung too high before and this was his last chance if Sylvo was to be saved.
His blow was true and terrible. He felt the haft spring in his hand as the bronze slashed through skullbone and into the brain of the bear. The animal, slavering blood and foam, came on as it died on its feet. Blade turned and ran. The second bear was just rearing over Sylvo. As Blade ran he heard the man cry out in terror, a matter Blade could understand, for the second bear was bigger and more ferocious looking than the first. As Blade darted in to the attack he saw the last bear leave the cage and shamble toward the girl. Despair clutched at his heart. There was no more time.
The bear, unaware of Blade, slapped at Sylvo's head with terrible claws. Blade, in the last possible instant, swung the axe and slashed off the paw. The bear bellowed in rage and surprise and turned on Blade, red arterial blood spurting six feet from the stump. Blade, caught in the scarlet spray, was covered from head to foot. His face a lurid mask, the taste of the beast's blood hot and salty in his mouth, Blade leaped in with a great scream of defiance.
"Hoaaaaaahhhhhhhhh."
The bronze axe glinted around, shining and deadly. He put every ounce of his tremendous power into the blow, yet did not quite decapitate the animal. The head fell side-ways, held still by tough muscle and fur flesh, the neck shooting out new torrents of blood while the near headless thing walked and groped toward Blade.
Blade wheeled once more toward the girl. His heart leaped and he gave a mighty shout. His plan, rather Sylvo's, had worked. The l
ast bear had stopped to sniff at its dead companion, then had bitten into the corpse, and now was crouched and preparing to eat.
It was a stupid animal and paid no need to Blade as he ran on it from behind. He brained it with one blow from Aesculp, then retreated slowly to stand once more before Taken. He was a gruesome sight and knew it, bespattered with bear blood as he was, yet he did not mistake the look in her eyes. That it might change in the next moment did not matter in her glance now there was adoration and a full offering of herself. A blind man would have seen it.
Blade, in the heat and excitement of the moment, was pleased with her and with himself. Yet such a look in a woman's eyes meant trouble, if that woman was Taleen, Princess of Voth. Capricious child, simple maid as the dead Horsa named her, arrogant princess. All three the same woman, with now a fourth added a woman who saw Blade as a gallant and bloodied savior.
The moment sped away. There was new and more immediate trouble. The mob had been cheated and did not like it. A great caterwauling went up, drowning out those few who shouted for Blade's prowess.
"Kill them! Slay them all!"
"More bears. Bring more bears!"
"Flay them alive only save the woman! Give the woman to us."
"Three fine bears lost, and to what purpose? This man Blade is a fiend prick his carcass with arrows!"
So it went as the mob surged out of control against the barriers. Blade moved close to Taleen and began to cut her free with the axe blade. Surprisingly, no one paid him any attention. The courtyard was a maelstrom of rage and defiance as the throng swayed this way and that, a mindless thing bent on trampling itself to death. Queen Beata, pale with rage, was standing and shouting orders at her officers. A squad of archers suddenly wheeled and sent a volley into the mob. Nothing daunted by this, the screaming rabble charged across the barriers in earnest, overturning tables and spilling food and wine, hurling stones and handfuls of mud at the archers.
