by Джеффри Лорд
Suddenly the crystals flared up to twice their former brightness and vibrated so fiercely they seemed to blur. Then the glow steadied and the vibration faded away. The Great Hall was silent for a moment. Then the assistant shook his head and rose to his feet.
«Lord Blade, the way to Kassaro is open.»
«Thank you,» said Blade. As the words left his lips, both hands shot out, gripping the assistant by the collar and one sleeve of his robe. Before anyone could react, Blade spun the young man around, rammed a knee into his back, then flung him violently at the two Wolves. He sprawled almost at their feet, and they sprang apart. Blade followed the assistant and was on the first Wolf before the man could draw a weapon.
Blade's first slash glanced off the man's helmet and tore his sleeve. The second drew blood from his left arm. Before Blade could strike again the Wolf raised his mace and swung savagely. Mace and sword met with a clang and a spray of sparks. The sword flew out of Blade's hand, but he moved smoothly into another attack, gripping the man's weapon arm by wrist and elbow, then heaving violently. The Wolf screamed as his elbow shattered, then screamed again as Blade brought a knee up into his groin.
The Wolf's screams echoed up and down the Great Hall. As if in reply, there was a burst of shouting at the entrance, cut off instantly by a squealing crash as the outer door slid shut. Serana had done her job. The Great Hall was sealed off.
The other Wolf realized what the closed door meant as quickly as Blade. He charged off down the hall like a sprinter, waving his sword and shouting. Blade saw the first Wolf was out of the fight, but the assistant was crawling on hands and knees toward the crystals. Blade's sword came down, and the assistant's body jerked like a gaffed fish as his head rolled away across the carpet. Then Blade dashed after the second Wolf.
The man was through the inner door before Blade caught him. Swords clanged fiercely in the entrance chamber, and Blade heard Serana scream. He heaved the inner door open, to see the Wolf backing Serana into a corner a step at a time. Her rough and ready swordsmanship wouldn't keep her alive much longer, not against a trained Wolf. Fortunately it wouldn't have to.
The Wolf heard rather than saw Blade come into the room behind him and knew what had to be done. His sword whistled in a deadly arc toward Serana's head, smashing down her guard. Blade had the sick knowledge that Serana was going to be dead in the next moment, even if the Wolf was dead the moment after that.
Then Serana dropped to the floor, taking the Wolf's sword across her helmet. The helmet flew off, but the sword glanced off to strike the wall. Before the Wolf could swing again, Blade came up behind him and gripped the man by the throat in both hands. Serana bounced to her feet, her dagger drawn. As Blade jerked back, snapping the Wolf's neck, Serana thrust the dagger into the man's left eye, plunging it through to the brain. The Wolf writhed convulsively for a moment, blood gushing from his nose and mouth, then went limp.
Blade threw the second bolt on the door, clamped the two iron padlocks into place, and dropped the iron-strapped wooden bar into its brackets. Fists and swords hammered wildly on the door from outside, but Blade ignored them. It would now take a full-sized battering ram to break down the outer door. All the Wolves in Rentoro couldn't hurt him and Serana, as long as they were on the wrong side of the door.
Only after fastening the door could Blade spare attention for Serana. She was leaning against one wall, shaking her head and rubbing her neck.
«Are you hurt?»
She slowly shook her head. «No. Just a little dizzy.»
«Good. Come on.» He grabbed her by the hand and led her back into the Great Hall. The first Wolf was on his feet, stumbling wide-eyed toward the door, both arms hanging useless. There seemed to be no fight in him. Serana let out a wordless growl. She rushed at the Wolf, her sword held out in front of her like a lance, drove the point into his throat, and stepped back as he tottered. He didn't fall quickly enough for her, so she stabbed him again, this time in the groin. Now he went down, and as he lay twitching on the floor Serana brought the sword down across his exposed neck. The head rolled free, helmet and all, and the Wolf lay still. Serana wiped her sword on the dead man's clothes and sheathed it with an air of satisfaction.
«He was the worst of those who had me, the night the Wizard gave me to the Wolves,» she said calmly. «I thank fate I was able to face him before leaving this place and leave him dead at my feet.»
Blade said nothing, for there was nothing to say. Instead he turned to the shelves holding the sky-bridge crystals. Quickly he found the chest for Morina, opened it, took out the crystals, wrapped them in the velvet, and dropped the entire package in his belt pouch. He might not be able to take the Wizard back to Home Dimension with him, but he could certainly take samples of the crystal.
The hammering and shouting outside were growing louder. Serana was pulling on the dead assistant's robe over her guard's clothing. Blade walked over to the shelves holding the view-balls. The one for Morina was on the top shelf, a good eight feet above the floor. A ladder leaned against the wall at one end of the shelves. Blade shifted it, climbed up, took the heavy view-ball off its stand, and held it high over his head. Then he threw it down on the bare floor as hard as he could.
There was a crash like a thousand windows all shattering together, and yellow vapor boiled up. Blade caught a whiff of it, coughed, and wondered for a moment if he'd released a poisonous gas into the hall. Then the vapor sank down and vanished, leaving a broad yellow stain on the floor all around the fragments of the ball.
«Now the Wizard cannot see into Morina, until he makes and tunes a new view-ball,» said Blade. «Before he can do that, we may give him more important things to think about.»
Serana said nothing, but the look in her eyes said a great deal. Blade climbed down the ladder, wishing he had time to smash every view-ball on the shelves. That would really cripple the Wizard, but it would also take more time than was safe. Urged on by their desperate master, the Wolves might come up with some surprises, and there were always the Wizard's mental attacks to fear.
Now for the sky-bridge. Blade took Serana's hand and they walked toward the glowing crystals. She hesitated for a moment, but he urged her forward. Three steps to go, two, one-
— a sudden roaring in their ears, with the floor seeming to heave upward under them and then fall back-
— and they were standing on a brush-grown rocky hillside, in the lee of a clump of small trees. Behind them glowed the two outer crystals of the sky-bridge. Serana started down the hill, but Blade caught her arm.
«Wait. I have to smash these crystals, so no one will be able to follow us across the bridge.» He gripped the mace in both hands, raised it high overhead, and brought it down with all his strength.
An inert sky-bridge crystal had to be struck exactly right to break. An activated one would shatter at a tap. The mace came down, golden light flared, and the crystal dissolved into faintly glowing powder. Blade raised the mace again, and brought it down on the second crystal, which had begun to glow more brightly.
For a second he felt as if he'd been dropped into a blast furnace. Searing light and heat were all around him and a roaring like massed artillery fire filled his ears. He dropped the mace, jumped back, fell, and rolled several yards down the slope. He ended up almost on top of Serana, nestled against two boulders.
The glare faded and the roar died away. Blade rose and climbed back up the slope. Where the second crystal had been was now a foot-wide pit of smoking green glass. Around it the earth was blackened for several yards in all directions. The mace lay at the edge of the blackened earth, reduced to a six-inch stump of charcoal.
Blade realized now that all his exposed skin felt like a bad case of sunburn. His eyebrows and eyelashes also seemed to be missing. He was going to look rather odd for a few days. But then he'd been practically on top of the explosion of a fair-sized bomb. He'd really been quite lucky.
He returned to Serana and helped her to her feet. «It's time we went
on our way,» he said. «Which way is Kassaro?»
She looked around briefly to get her bearings, then pointed off into the darkness at the foot of the hill. Hand in hand they started down the slope.
Chapter 18
Blade and Serana went to a livery stable at the east end of Kassaro and hired two heudas. They were a strange sight-Blade with his scorched face and bloodstained clothing, Serana with the badly fitting assistant's robe belted on over men's clothing. The stablekeeper looked hard at them, but he looked even harder at the gold coins Blade held out to him. Silently he led them to the stables and gave them what they wanted.
It was a moonless night, black as a coal mine and with a rising wind. Blade and Serana left Kassaro and trotted across the wooden bridge, then spurred their heudas to a gallop.
The darkness not only hid them from prying eyes, it nearly hid the road from them. Fortunately it was straight and paved all the way to Morina. Otherwise they would probably have ridden into one of the streams the road crossed on its way to the city.
They were halfway to Morina when a cold rain began whipping into their faces. The rain grew steadily heavier, until they had to slow to a trot, then to a walk. Serana gave an animal snarl of frustration at the loss of time, but Blade reassured her.
«We've nothing to fear. In this rain we could pass five yards from a thousand Wolves without their seeing us.»
By the time the walls of Morina loomed out of the storm, both Blade and Serana were as wet as if they really had ridden into a stream. Serana rose in her stirrups and hailed the sentries on the gate. She had to shout three times before she could make herself heard over the roar of the wind and the rain.
«Who be, and what business?» at last came down from above.
«Two of Morina, returning on lawful affairs. We are bound for Haymi's Fountain and bear a message from Grasso.»
Morina closed its gates at nightfall and opened them at dawn. During the hours of darkness, people could be admitted only if they gave a specific destination and had someone there prepared to assume responsibility for them. Haymi's Fountain was a well-known tavern and lodging house, one of the meeting places for the Wizard's enemies in Morina. «A message from Grasso» was code, meaning that a person came on business of great importance to the rebels. When that message reached the Fountain, someone there would be willing to assume responsibility for Blade and Serana.
«At least it was the right message, two years ago,» whispered Serana. «They have doubtless changed the code, but we can hope someone will remember the old one. Otherwise we shall not be getting into Morina tonight.»
They waited, sitting on their heudas as the rain poured down. They could not get any colder or wetter, and in the darkness no one was likely to recognize Serana. Blade still would not be at ease until they were safely inside Haymi's Fountain. If the gate guards did make them wait out here all night, they'd have to enter the city in daylight, when the crowd would certainly include some men in the pay of the Wizard.
At last Blade heard the groan and squeal of ponderous hinges moving, and one of the gates swung open. They rode through the gateway into a narrow street, with tall houses crowding close on either side. Three men with swords and bows but no armor came down from the gatehouse. One walked ahead, two behind, and the little party tramped through the rain-soaked streets to Haymi's Fountain.
Serana did not speak until they were safely inside a dank cellar room far below the level of the street. The walls were lined with immense wine barrels, trailing tufts of cobweb. Behind the barrels Blade could hear the scurrying of rats.
At last the shuffle of many feet sounded outside the heavy door. Only one man came in through the doorway, but Blade knew there must be at least half a dozen waiting outside. He and Serana had been trusted this far, because of the «message from Grasso.» They weren't going any farther until they'd explained themselves, and they might not even leave this room alive if they couldn't explain.
Haymi Razence looked as if some of the rats in his cellars were his relatives. He was barely five feet tall with a narrow face that seemed all nose and eyes. Lank black hair, thinning on top, trailed down on either side of his skull. In his belt he wore an unsheathed dagger nearly as long as his arm.
«Grasso has sent you?» Razence said. His voice was surprisingly deep for a man his size.
«Yes,» said Blade, and Serana nodded.
«You know that Grasso has given way in favor of Teodarn?»
«I did not,» said Blade.
«I think you had better tell me why you did not know this,» said Haymi. He backed away until he was just outside Blade's striking range, and his hand fell to his dagger hilt.
Serana slammed both hands down on the table, startling Razence into drawing his dagger. He was opening his mouth to call in the men outside when Serana stood up, stepped out from behind the table, and pulled the hood of her robe back from her face. Her hair had grown several inches since Blade began visiting her. Now she pulled it back, took a ribbon from her pouch, and tied her hair in a ragged pile on top of her head.
Razence's mouth opened wider and wider, but no sound came out. His fingers went limp and the dagger clattered to the floor.
Blade was tempted to pick it up, but instead said quietly, «Yes. It is the Lady Serana Zotair, back from the castle of the Wizard. She is not a ghost, and neither am I. Together we have escaped from the castle, and we bear with us all the Wizard's secrets.»
«You are-«Razence finally got his mouth closed long enough to get out a couple of words.
«I am Richard Blade, a traveler, warrior, and learned man. I am also an enemy of the Wizard, and wish to see Rentoro free of his power. I believe this can be done.»
Razence was now looking from Blade to Serana to the door and back to Blade. He was obviously wondering who in this room was mad-the man, the woman, himself, or all of them? Then Serana laughed.
«Haymi Razence, you doubt that I am Serana? Do not doubt it. I am the same Serana who helped your brother Murga bury the hunting dog Silver, just east of the three willows at the north bend of the River Oti, opposite the manor of Lord Figua.»
At this point Haymi Razence gave a remarkably good imitation of a man about to fall down in a fit. Blade started forward to help him, then stopped as Serana burst out laughing.
«Poor Haymi,» she said, when she caught her breath. «He will get over his shock soon enough. What I told him proves that I am indeed Serana. Murga Razence was one of my few playmates when I was a girl. Once we took out a hunting dog of my father's without his permission, and the poor beast was bitten by a snake. So we buried him secretly and said he ran off. Haymi is the only one we told the truth. No one could know exactly where we buried Silver except Murga and I, and Murga is dead.» The laughter died out of her face and voice. «He was poisoned by the Wizard's spies.» Then she sat down again, waiting with a queen's dignity for Haymi to get his voice back and put his thoughts in order. Her impatience showed in a foot that tapped steadily and a hand that clenched and unclenched itself.
She seemed very much in command and that was her right. This was her city, these were her people, and the dream of being free of the Wizard really belonged to the Rentorans. Blade had given them the key to victory, but from now on the fight was bound to be mostly in their hands.
Eventually Razence regained both his wits and his voice, sent his guards away, and drew up a chair. «Now, my lady, and Lord Blade-what secrets of the Wizard's magic do you bring from his castle?»
«All of them,» said Blade simply, and Serana nodded.
«If we act swiftly on what Blade has learned,» she said, «Morina can be free of the Wizard's power within weeks. All of Rentoro can be free before the snow falls. The Wizard may survive for a time, shut up in his castle. But it will have become his prison, not the seat of his power.»
«The Lady Serana speaks the truth,» said Blade. He fixed the innkeeper with a level stare. «She has also spoken to me of how some of those who hate the Wizard are slow to act
. Or at least they were two years ago, when she was taken to the Wizard's castle. What will the Wizard's enemies in Morina be ready to do now?»
Razence took a deep breath. «If you can tell us how to break the power of the Wizard's magic, we will listen. We will do more than listen-we will strike. As long as we have some hope of victory, you may command us and we will obey.»
«It will still be dangerous,» said Serana quietly.
Razence's thin shoulders straightened. «That is doubtless true. But we are prepared to die under the swords of the Wolves, as long as we know that our children will not.» He turned to Blade. «Do not think that the men of Morina have ever been cowards, Lord Blade. It is easy enough to be brave when you risk no life but your own. It is less easy, when you know that you will see your father gelded, your wife ravished, your children flung from walls or spitted on swords, and then be burned yourself by slow fire.»
«I understand,» said Blade. «But that is at an end. First of all, the Wizard is not truly a magician. All his knowledge and arts are of this world, although many are not within the grasp of ordinary men. He is a very wise man, who has turned all his wisdom to evil.»
Blade went on from there, explaining everything he could about the Wizard without mentioning the man's origins. He didn't need to. The strategy they'd be using against the Wizard would be the same whether he'd come from Renaissance Italy or fallen from the sky as the legends said.
Razence managed to keep up with Blade's explanations, although he was obviously having to make an enormous mental effort to do so. Several times he asked Blade to repeat something and twice he asked Blade to stop entirely. Finally he rose, shaking his head like a man waking from a particularly vivid dream.
