by Джеффри Лорд
There was going to be much more talking with the Wizard before anything happened, though. The man had raised almost as many questions as he'd answered. One in particular stood out.
In all his words and thoughts, the Wizard had shown only one man, himself, doing everything that must have been done by several generations of Wizards. He seemed to think he was the same man who'd served in the armies of the Visconti, still alive and ruling in Rentoro after more than a century.
Was the Wizard simply mad-at least on that one point?
Had his ancestors passed on their memories to him by telepathy, so that he knew everything they'd seen and done as if he'd done it himself? Perhaps there had been four or five Wizards, but only one mind and only one set of memories, now in its fourth or fifth body?
Or could it be that the Wizard was just one man? In that case he would be well into his second century, although he looked no more than thirty-five. Did the powers of his mind extend to retarding the aging process? This seemed the most fantastic notion of all, but was it much less fantastic than the existence of the Wizard in the first place?
Blade laughed. His exploration of the mysteries of the Wizard of Rentoro was not over. In fact, it had just begun.
Chapter 14
Blade spent the next three days resting, exercising, and eating five meals a day to restore his strength. He half expected that by the time he was back in fighting trim, the Wizard might have changed his mind about their alliance. Whether or not the Wizard was actually a man from the Italian Renaissance, he seemed to think like one. That meant double-edged words and open treachery would be a normal part of his life. Blade knew he had to rely as much as possible on his own strength and skill, and as little as possible on the Wizard's friendship.
In fact, the Wizard kept every promise he'd made, then made a few more and kept those as well. Bernardo Sembruzo (or Bernardo Sembruzo's great-grandson) seemed more and more a man of the Renaissance as Blade came to know him better. He ruled as a tyrant, was more than capable of treachery, and had a wide streak of sadistic cruelty in him. He was also brilliant, cultivated, and extraordinarily charming when he chose to be. In short, a man of fascinating (even if sometimes alarming) contradictions.
The Wolves were another matter. Few of them had any charm or knowledge of anything except fighting. They were nothing more than the faithful servants of a tyrant. Blade did not regret the ones he'd killed, and sometimes hoped for a chance to kill a few more.
He soon forgot about the Wolves. Indeed, he soon forgot to wonder whether the Wizard was immortal or a madman. Whoever he was, the man had amazing powers and showed Blade one amazing sight after another.
The Wizard's knowledge of everything that went on in Rentoro was easily explained after he showed Blade the glass balls on shelves in the Great Hall of the castle. They were actually balls of a sort of crystal. The Wizard or one of his dozen trained and trusted assistants would rest their hands on one of the balls and concentrate. There would be a milky swirling within the ball, and then a scene would flash into view, every detail and movement shown perfectly. Each ball was «tuned» to a particular city or town. By a simple exercise of will, the man at the view-ball could send his vision anywhere in the city or town. He could see anything-wedding nights, births and deaths, or the hatching of plots against the Wizard. He could also see the messages of the Wizard's allies and spies.
It appeared that the Wizard could send thought messages to trained men-spies or Wolf leaders-anywhere in Rentoro. He could not so easily receive messages or read minds over long distances. His spies either sent their reports to the view-balls, or rode in person to his castle and let him hear their words and thoughts.
Blade found it oddly consoling that the Wizard could not do everything, or at least wouldn't admit to doing everything.
Blade was getting used to the idea of dealing with a telepathic genius. He was glad he wouldn't have to deal with an out and out superman!
The crystal had another use beside giving the Wizard his magical, all-seeing eyes. In a slightly different form, it created the «sky-bridges»-the teleportation links that hurled the Wolves from one end of Rentoro to another in the space of a single breath.
The sky-bridge was simple enough, once Blade got used to the idea that it existed at all. A selected crystal was carefully divided into four precisely equal components. One pair was placed somewhere in the castle, the other near a city or town. When activated by the Wizard or one of his assistants, the four pieces together formed a sky-bridge. Then the Wolves could ride or march between the two crystals at the castle end, appear between the other pair, and descend on the city or town.
There were more than sixty sky-bridges. There was one for each large city or town in Rentoro, and as many more scattered about the country, carefully hidden. Among them, the sixty let the Wizard put down a force of Wolves, ready for action, close to any place in Rentoro, within an hour of giving the order. Of the total of six thousand Wolves, two hundred were always in armor, their heudas saddled and their weapons ready at hand. They were the first, and if more were needed all the rest of the Wolves could follow within a day.
None of it would have made any sense to Blade, if he hadn't seen it in action with his own eyes. He could not doubt it, and therefore had to force his sometimes half-numb mind to understand it. Certainly it explained why the Wolves were invincible. If all the fighting men of Rentoro gathered into a single army, they would outnumber the Wolves five or six to one. The problem lay in gathering them, before the Wizard could detect them and the Wolves could strike. So far no one in Rentoro had ever solved that problem, so the Wizard's rule remained unbroken after more than a century.
The Wizard knew very well that he had to keep the skybridges a closely guarded secret from the Rentorans. «It is the most vital link in the chain that holds up my power,» he said. «It is also the weakest. If the Rentorans knew of the crystals at the far end of each bridge, they would search high and low. Certainly they would find and destroy many, perhaps most. Then I would be thrown back into the castle, to stand or die. The sky-bridges must be made of a perfect crystal, cut with great art and tuned with great skill. So if the sky-bridges fell down, it would be hard to replace them before the Rentorans cast aside their fear of the Wolves and rose against me.»
«Is that why your spies must ride to the castle to make their reports?» asked Blade.
«Yes. They do not know of the sky-bridges, and they will never be allowed to learn. They must live among the Rentorans, and sooner or later one who knew would have the secret tortured out of him. The Wolves, on the other hand, never spend a single night in any town or city. They never allow themselves to be captured, and I have also hypnotized each one so that he would go mad if anyone asked him about the sky-bridges.»
Once more, the Wizard seemed to have laid out an impressive defense in depth. Not surprising, considering the importance of what he was defending. Blade wondered if the Wizard had a map showing all the outer crystals of the skybridges. He stopped wondering. If the map existed at all outside the Wizard's own mind, there was no chance of his allowing Blade to see it and no point in Blade's even asking.
There was also no point in his sending a message to Lorya, waiting in Peloff. Now that he knew the Wizard's secrets, the Wizard would be very careful about letting Blade communicate with the outside world. Trying to reassure Lorya could arouse the Wizard's suspicions and lead to her death. Blade realized he would just have to remain silent, and hope Lorya would get safely out of Peloff when the agreed-on waiting period came to an end.
What the Wizard did with the crystals was marvelous. How he got them in the first place was almost depressingly ordinary. They came out of a secret mine in the mountains that formed the eastern border of Rentoro. There was no route to the mines from the plains below. The Wizard and the Wolves who guarded the mine went back and forth through a sky-bridge. The slaves they escorted were the young men taken from the cities and towns of Rentoro, and they never left the mine
alive.
The Wizard took Blade to the mine once. Blade saw the same things he'd seen in the Wizard's thoughts-the shafts and tunnels, the pits, the hoists and pulleys, and the gaunt, hairy men everywhere. He also saw the hunted, savage look in the men's eyes, and the comparative handful of Wolves who guarded them.
«How many men does the mine need?»
«I only need a few hundred,» said the Wizard. «But there are more than a thousand here now, and sometimes there are even more. I take more young men than I need, to remind the people that I rule in Rentoro. It is also a good punishment for rebels. Not even the strongest man can last for more than a year in the crystal mine.» The look in the Wizard's eyes as he spoke the last words turned Blade's stomach. The Wizard might not be mad, but certainly the streak of sadistic cruelty in him was not fully under control. Taking him back to Home Dimension was still absolutely necessary, but would it be absolutely safe? Blade couldn't help wondering.
Compared to the view-balls and the sky-bridges, even compared to the crystal mine, the castle was almost commonplace. It had everything needed for the Wizard's comfort or luxury, everything an Italian Renaissance nobleman would have allowed himself, if he'd been in a position to indulge every whim. There was a cellar full of barrels of wine, there was a library of scrolls and illuminated books richly bound in leather, there was a roomful of jewels and another of fine weapons and armor. There was a kitchen that could turn out delicate sauces or roast a whole ox, and piles of silver and gold dishes for serving anything the kitchen turned out. There was a state apartment, with a jeweled bed hung with silk curtains embroidered in pearls and golden thread. There was luxury to wallow in until Blade found himself surprised that the Wizard wasn't a bloated hulk of flesh instead of a hard-muscled fighting man. Only an iron will could have kept him from decaying-but then, any man who could rule as the Wizard did had enough willpower to do almost anything.
All this luxury was for the Wizard himself. There was more for those who served him. The dozen assistants he'd trained each had a luxurious apartment of their own. The Wolves had their barracks, warm, snug, and comfortable. The craftsmen, the servants, the house guards, even the farm laborers had their own quarters and never went short of food or clothing.
Then there were the women. Some were slaves, some were free servants. All the young ones were also concubines-for the Wizard, for his assistants, for the Wolves, for the male servants and laborers. Since nature was allowed to take its course, they were also the mothers of future Wolves, concubines, and laborers.
The Wizard was not only the distant tyrant who ruled over Rentoro. He was also the personal and quite absolute ruler of a community of thousands of men and women. Every one of them existed to serve him and his rule, and most of them worshipped or feared him as if he was very nearly a god.
It was a situation that would have corrupted a saint, and there was very little saintliness in Bernardo Sembruzo. Blade didn't like the Wizard's streak of self-indulgent cruelty any better, but he gradually came to understand it.
At first Blade wasn't sure what to do about the women. It was impossible to ignore them. Most of those who waited on him and the Wizard were beautiful. None of them wore very much, and some of them wore nothing at all except subtle and exciting perfumes. Blade wondered if he was supposed to keep his hands off them, and if so, how long he would be able to do so. In some things, Richard Blade was no more of a saint than Bernardo Sembruzo.
The Wizard was not long in realizing Blade's doubts, and in cheerfully inviting him to make free with the women. «After all,» he said, «you have all my secrets. Why should you not have a few of my women as well? You are the only ally and the only true friend I have ever had since I came to Rentoro, and one of the few I have ever had. Only you have been able to offer me a road home.»
«I have offered a hope of one,» said Blade quietly. «I would rather you did not depend too much on that hope. I will not promise that either or both of us will safely reach England, or that my friends can send you back to your own land and time from there.»
«All at once you seem very doubtful of your success,» said the Wizard, his eyes narrowing.
«I am no more doubtful of my success than I was before,» said Blade. «What I doubt is my own safety, if you hope for too much and then are disappointed.»
«Richard, my friend, that is an unworthy thought between men of gentle birth. You should be ashamed of it.»
«I would be more ashamed to walk blindly to my death, when a few words could make us understand each other clearly. Such foolish carelessness is not for men of gentle birth, either.»
«Perhaps not. Very well-on my honor I swear that if we cannot return to your England, no harm will come to you. Indeed, you shall continue at my right hand, and be my friend and comrade in the ruling of Rentoro. Though we shall be alone, yet we shall have no small pleasure in our lives from that rule.»
«I can ask nothing more,» said Blade. Indeed, he could not, or at least he didn't care to try. For all the friendship the Wizard had shown him, he was still as vulnerable as ever to the man's whims. The less the Wizard was provoked, the better.
Chapter 15
Although the Wizard gave Blade free run of the women of the castle, nothing came of it for a while except a certain amount of pleasure. Even that was limited, at least from Blade's point of view. The Wizard's women were so desperate in their eagerness to please that the mere possibility of angering Blade made them shiver with fright and even burst into tears. Or was it the Wizard's displeasure they feared, for not doing their best for their master's sworn friend and comrade? All the women showed the signs of years of obedience to the Wizard's whims and temper. A few of them showed fresh bruises from the Wizard's more violent moments. After a while, none of them could really please Blade.
In spite of the odds against him, he tried asking some of the women questions about the Wizard's affairs. A few of them answered, but none of them told him anything new and important. Others seemed so frightened at his questions that he abandoned the effort before the women were driven to telling the Wizard.
Blade did learn one thing from the women. The Wizard hadn't aged visibly during the time that any of the women had been serving in the castle. Still, that was no more than ten years, and a man who kept himself in good shape and dyed his hair and beard might very well not change. Blade was no nearer finding out if the Wizard was immortal, mad, or simply shared his ancestors' memories.
In any case, it really did not matter that much. Even if the present Wizard of Rentoro was not the same man as the one who'd traveled across the Dimensions, he was certainly a telepath and the master of the view-balls and skybridges. He could also teach many of his skills to other men. This was more than enough to make bringing him back to Home Dimension a monumental victory for Project Dimension X and for Britain. Blade saw no need to change any of his plans.
One evening over dinner he casually remarked that he found some of the women of the castle «a boring lot.»
«I see that you've beaten obedience into them,» Blade continued, «but you also seem to have beaten the spirit out of them.»
The Wizard shrugged. «The wise ones, I didn't have to beat. They knew or could guess what I wanted from the first. But others-yes, I did have to use the stick a trifle. A few I even had to throw to the Wolves for a night or two. That cured them.» A satisfied smile spread across the Wizard's face. «I take it you'd prefer someone with-more life, shall we say?»
«You might say that,» said Blade.
«I think that can be arranged,» said the Wizard. «There's one lady I have here I was never able to cure. Even throwing her to the Wolves just made her go astray in her wits. I've given up on her, but if you want to try?»
«I'll think about it,» said Blade. «Why do you keep her around, if she's so hard to tame?» The Wizard seldom kept the useless or the disobedient around his castle or in his service at all.
«I wouldn't, except that she's a high noble of Morina. Sister to the rul
ing duke, in fact, and highly thought of by the people. Her brother was more than happy to send her to me, but the Morinans weren't happy to see her go. I've got to keep her around until she dies a natural death, otherwise the city will be in an uproar. I'd have to send in the Wolves and make such a shambles I'd get no taxes out of the place for two years.
«By all means try her, if you're interested. If you get her down it might improve her disposition. Don't kill her, but otherwise-«The Wizard waved a casual hand.
Blade wished he could hit the Wizard over the head and lock him in a closet until the time came to return to Home Dimension. Enduring the man's whims for the sake of their «friendship» was becoming something of a strain. Now he was being invited-indeed, practically ordered-to rape a madwoman. He should have kept his mouth shut about the castle's women!
«Very well,» Blade said. «I'll see about paying her a visit tomorrow.»
«Good. I'll leave the necessary orders with the guards. And now-more wine?»
The Morinan lady's room was high up in one of the towers, where she could get a reasonable amount of sunlight and fresh air. This had nothing to do with kindness-the Wizard would have done as much for a prize sow that he had to keep in good health.
Two of the house guards were on duty outside the room when Blade arrived. One of them unlocked the iron-bound door and held it slightly ajar.
«Now, 'member, lord-any trouble, gi' us a shout-we be in straight.»
«Don't worry,» said Blade. «I'm sure I'm big enough to handle her.» The guards caught his double meaning and were still laughing as he slipped into the room.
It was circular, twenty feet across, eight feet high, and whitewashed so heavily Blade felt as if he'd stepped inside a wedding cake. It was a moment before he noticed the low bed on the far side of the room, under the barred window. It was another moment before he noticed the woman in the stained white robe, lying face down on the bed.
