by David Duncan
Honakura struggled to adjust. This made nonsense of everything. It was incomprehensible.
"Then what are you doing?"
Shonsu groaned. "I am bluffing!"
"Bluffing, my lord?"
"Bluffing both sides."
More confusion. "But why?"
A pause and then another whisper "To force a treaty!"
Honakura gasped. "Of course! Yes! Yes! That must be the meaning of your parentmarks-swordsman and sorcerer, my lord! It may be that that is Her purpose! That is why She chose you! No other swordsmen would ever think of that! None ever consider it! Can you?"
"Can I what?" the big man snapped. "Force the swordsmen? Yes! They have to obey, right? The sorcerers... I don't know! But I was allowed to capture one of their Sevenths. He is probably one of the leaders, perhaps the highest of them all, for he provoked the calling of the tryst. So I must work on him-while I prepare the swordsmen for war."
The priest sighed deeply. "It is a holy cause, my lord! I think you are right!" To patch the ancient quarrel between swordsman and sorcerer-that made sense.
Then be saw the deathly glance on Shonsu's face and stopped. Had he missed something?
"Am I right? I told Jja... if I try to do the wrong thing with the tryst, then the Goddess will stop me. I think your Ikondorina story is a warning, holy one! She wants a killer. She will block me."
"How so, my lord?"
"I may convince the sorcerers," Shonsu growled. "They will listen to reason, I think. But swordsmen do not know reason from cowardice. You can't argue with a swordsman."
"But you can command them, you said!"
He bared his teeth. "All except one-he is not my vassal. We are equals. Both liege lords, both Sevenths now. He is not even my protegé anymore! Do you think that Nnanji will accept a treaty?"
Silence.
"Well, do you?"
Now it was the priest who whispered. "No."
"Neither do I! You once said he had a head like a coconut. He will have to choose, won't he? I am his brother because we swore the fourth oath-but that is only a sutra. He will say that sorcerers are swordsman killers, and always have been. He will say that a treaty betrays the tryst, and the will of the Goddess. He will say that a treaty is cowardice and shame. We taught him, old man! You and I taught him well-the will of the Goddess takes precedence over the sutras! That story of yours gives the answer-Slew him and took his realm? It fits him perfectly! I can hear him saying it: I am more worthy!"
Shonsu sprang to his feet. "Maybe he is! Maybe the Goddess thinks so. She has certainly promoted him fast enough!"
Then he was gone, striding away long-legged across the whorls of color in the shiny tiles.
Honakura stayed where he was, staring up at the Most High, haloed now in a rainbow of tears.
BOOK FIVE:
HOW THE SWORDSMAN
RETURNED THE SWORD
†
It was the middle of the following morning before Wallie clambered glumly up the rope ladder to Sapphire's deck. Bare-masted and peaceful, the little blue ship lay at anchor on sunlit water, a haven of sanity after the frenzy of the tryst. Yet he was returning only because he had work to do even there, work on the one problem that he could not possibly delegate-Rotanxi. And it would take more than sparkling ripples and wheeling white birds to soften his nagging black mood this morning.
As he stepped on board, Jja came running forward to greet him. He clasped her hands in his and then recoiled in shock at her puffed and discolored face.
"What happened?" he demanded.
She dropped her gaze. "It was an accident."
"Who caused this accident?" he roared. A surge of fury rose like bile in this throat. If this was more swordsman work, then there would be blood to spill...
"You did," she said softly.
He gaped at her, suddenly aware that there were many other people on deck, most pretending to be busy, but all of them-from toddlers to old Lina herself-all certainly watching and listening.
"When you were passing judgment on the two swordsmen, master. I tried to plead for them. It was wrong of me."
He had struck her? He thought back into that red mist that had enveloped him in the lodge the day before. Yes, perhaps he had.
"My love!" he wailed. "Oh, Jja!" He took her in his arms and kissed her.
Then he backed off again, puzzled. True, his tongue tasted tike an old fur insole, and there were no clinical mouth washes in the World. He had not been drunk the night before, but he had taken enough of the vile gut-rotting local wine to give himself a pounding hangover. Doubtless he was an unsavory lover this morning. Even so, there had been much lacking in that kiss. And she had called him "master."
"I lost my head, Jja. I did not even know I had done this."
She kept her face down and was silent, but he waited and eventually she spoke.
"I know that, master."
"Then can you not forgive me?"
Now she looked up and studied him dubiously. "Will you make amends, then?"
"How? Tell me how I can!"
"Come down to the cabin and I will show you."
He hugged her again. "I don't dare, my love! I got very little sleep last night and I have work to do."
Little was an understatement. He had barely slept at all. He had returned Doa to her home not long before dawn-and the door had been slammed in his face. He had gone back to the lodge, to find it still a boiling pot of insanity. Adjutant Linumino had certainly not seen bed that night, being engaged in organizing the barracks and the married quarters and food supplies and work assignments, all at the same time. The shouting and the racket of marching boots had never stopped, nor had the endless string of conflicts being referred to the liege himself. The Sevenths were well-meaning and enthusiastic, but Wallie had given them too much to do too soon. The thought of a bed with Jja in it was a vision of paradise, but one that he must resist. Or was that guilt talking?
She bit her lip. "The two men you sold, master..."
So her offer had been a bribe? "Stay out of that, Jja! How I run the tryst is not your concern!"
"Yes, master."
"And don't call me that!"
"No, master."
Women!
She turned away. He grabbed her shoulder roughly and spun her round to face him.
"Relations between the swordsmen and the town are bad!" he snapped. "It is important that I keep the elders happy. Do you understand?"
She nodded dumbly.
Liar! said his conscience. Whatever else Shonsu did when he was castellan, he terrorized the elders. They groveled to you last night.
"I had to go to that ball!"
Rot! They would much prefer that you stay away and just send Nnanji.
"And they would be grossly insulted if I took a slave as my partner."
You mean the swordsmen would laugh at you.
"And if I choose to take Lady Doa to a dance, then it is none of your business!"
"Of course not, master."
Again she began to turn. This time he grabbed both shoulders and almost shook her.
"You have no cause to be jealous of Lady Doa!"
"Jealous!" Now, incredibly, it was Jja who started to shout. "A slave? Jealous? What could possibly make a slave jealous?'
"In this case nothing! I needed an escort to the dance-"
"You think that I care who you take to a stupid dance?"
"And nothing else!"
"You think I care about that, either? Bed whom you like, master. Make no excuses to a slave."
Wallie was astounded. Never had she raised her voice like that before, to him or anyone. He released her. "Then what is bothering you?"
"You are!" she yelled, stamping her foot. "What are you doing to yourself?"
He was a swordsman of the Seventh. He was liege lord of the tryst, the most powerful man in the World. He stammered and then yelled back, "Watch your tongue, woman! For, yes, you are only a slave, remember!"
"And I
was happy as a slave! I did as my mistress bid me, for many men. And very few of them struck me!"
He made an effort and lowered his voice. "I said I was sorry. I shall not do that again."
"Perhaps you should! To remind me I am only a slave. You have been telling me to think of myself as a real person!"
Never had she behaved like this! For a moment Shonsu's maniacal temper almost broke loose. Then Wallie forced it down, taking deep breaths and unclenching his fists. He glanced around the deck, seeing the many frightened eyes being hastily averted. Rotanxi, whom he had come to woo and impress, was sitting on the aft hatch cover, impassively listening like the others to this absurd quarrel.
"You said that was what you wanted," she shouted. "A real woman. Now I am a slave again-"
"Yes!" he roared, to silence her. "Go to the cabin!" He turned away and headed over to the sorcerer, passing a cynical, surly Tomiyano and ignoring him. He made formal salute to Rotanxi.
The sorcerer rose and responded, then sat down again. Wallie settled beside him.
"And how are your catapults this fine day?" Rotanxi inquired with acid politeness.
Wallie laughed bitterly. "Lord Zoariyi is in charge of building catapults. I judged him the shrewdest."
"Probably," Rotanxi commented, to show that he knew of the Sevenths.
"He jumped in with all four feet. I stopped by on my way out here; he has a catapult half-built already."
"Remarkable!"
"Yes, but useless-unless he plans to use it to move the tryst across to the other bank. There isn't a hatch on the River that could take it. It will have to be scrapped and a new start made."
Rotanxi made a thin-tipped smile. "I hope he wasted a lot of money on timber."
He had, of course. "Money is no longer a problem," Wallie said, and explained about dock fees.
The sorcerer looked skeptical and said nothing.
"You have heard about Chinarama?" Wallie inquired.
The old man nodded, face unreadable.
"Afterward Nnanji searched his quarters. He found a thunder weapon and the supplies for it. Quill and ink and vellum, of course. And this." Wallie held out a small ivory plaque bearing the image of a girl, wistfully beautiful.
The sorcerer regarded the plaque as it lay on Wallie's palm, but he made no move to take it and he did not speak.
"He and I were on opposite sides, my lord," Wallie said, "but I honor his memory. Courage is not confined to swordsmen. Is this his daughter?" Rotanxi and Chinarama had been about the same age. Vul could not be so huge that they would not have known each other.
The sorcerer hesitated, then said, "His wife. She died in childbirth many years ago."
"Sad!"
"Very. It was not his child. She had been raped by a band of swordsmen."
Wallie winced, then studied the old man, inscrutable now as a mummy. The story was possible, of course, but it might be a ploy to put him on the defensive. "Of course I do not doubt you, my lord, but our sutras expressly forbid any violence toward women, except in two narrowly defined cases-convicted felon's, or in retaliation for bloodshed."
He saw at once that he had lost.
"Perhaps 'rape' is the wrong term, then, Lord Shonsu? There was no direct violence by the swordsmen. It happened on a ship. A First importuned her. When she struggled, of course, his friends came to assist. They did not use force on the woman. They began mutilating the sailors. In self-defense, the sailors held the woman for the swordsmen. That would not be rape as your sutras define it, would it?"
The sorcerer's parchment face wrinkled in a sneer of triumph and contempt, and Wallie could only believe. He shuddered.
This was the man whose heart he hoped to win? Again he offered the plaque. "Will you take this, then? Give it to his family, if he has any, when you return?"
Rotanxi accepted it. "He had no family. He did have a brother once, but swordsmen got him, too." He hurled the picture away, and it spun over the rail and vanished.
After a pause, Wallie said, "That is sad also. But there are widows in Sen, my lord, and many orphans on the left bank. The price of power is always others' blood."
The sorcerer sneered, but did not reply.
Wallie changed the subject. "You have heard my story? I told the sailors to answer your questions."
Rotanxi snorted: "Bah! I have accepted that I cannot convince you of magic, Lord Shonsu. Yet you expect me to believe in miracles?"
Wallie was surprised. "Not even the Hand of the Goddess?"
"Not even that. Any time a sorcerer goes on a ship-and that is not rare, as you have guessed-then the ship goes where it is supposed to."
That was interesting, if true. Had not the demigod said that the Age of Legends came before the Age of Writing? Were the sorcerers miracle-proof, being literate? Wallie made a mental note to think about that, when he had time.
"But I confess that I am curious about the source of your knowledge," the sorcerer continued. "Obviously one of the other covens has been subverted or penetrated."
"I am truly from another world, my lord," Wallie said. "What evidence shall I offer? How about the stirrup? That is new to this one."
Rotanxi shook his head. "Impressive, but not convincing. Your stirrup is pretty obvious once you think of it."
"Ah! But all great inventions are like that. Now, take that far-seeing gadget of yours. It inverts the image. That must make it very difficult to use for things like reading lips."
Hesitation... and a flicker of excitement. "A matter of practice. Why, can you make a telescope that does not invert?"
Telescope! It was a new word. "Certainly. There are several ways, depending on what lenses you have. You haven't invented the glass lathe for making lenses yet, have you? No matter. The easiest way is to put two telescopes in one tube-four lenses. The first telescope inverts and the second puts the image the right way up again. That's even more obvious than the stirrup, I would say."
The sorcerer tried to keep a straight face, but the pupils of his eyes dilated. Wallie thought he might be making progress. The sailors had wandered away, mostly, now that the shouting was over. A quiet conversation between a sorcerer and a swordsman might be an epoch-making event, but it had no interest for such practical folk as they.
"There are ways of getting rid of the colored fringes, too, but it involves different types of glass in combination and is beyond my knowledge. Of course you can make a telescope with mirrors and that gives no colored fringes."
Now there was eagerness. "Yes? Tell me how you do that."
Wallie produced a piece of charcoal he had brought for just this purpose. "You may have to tell me some terms here." He started sketching on the hatch cover-Tomiyano would be furious. He outlined conic sections. That got him to the parabola, and he explained the reflecting telescope.
Rotanxi became openly excited. "Almost you convince me, my lord! There are other covens than Vul, but I thought none was ahead of us in our knowledge. I do not know where in the World you can have learned such things."
"That is the idea."
'Tell me more, then."
The tiger was at the door of the trap. "Alas, I dare not. Telescopes will not do a great deal of harm, but I am worried about the stirrup. In my world it led to horsemen encased in metal from scalp to toenail, and I fear that I may have opened the door to such horrors in this world. There are other things I could tell you that would do worse damage. I shall try to think of other harmless exceptions while preparing my war. But I am truly from another world, Lord Rotanxi."
He pretended that he was about to leave-and the sorcerer raised a hand to stay him. "That orange thing that flew from your boat?"
Wallie laughed. "Oh, that's harmless." He explained about the effects of heat on gases, hinted at molecular theory, described how a hot-air balloon worked. "Jja has nothing much to do; ask her nicely, and she may even make you one to take home with you. You'll have to get the wax recipe from Swordsman Katanji. He'll only charge you about a hundred gold
s, I should think."
Now he got a long, hard stare. "I wonder if you intend to let me go home, my lord. You are volunteering a great deal of information."
Wallie smiled innocently. "Trust me," he said.
Rotanxi shook his head. "There is a hook in your bait. What is it?"
Wallie shrugged. For a few minutes he stared across the blue water to the golden city spread along the River's edge, vastly older than the pyramids. He tried to imagine one of the sorcerers' black towers there and mused on what Nnanji had said-sacked and burned many times. If he could win peace with the sorcerers, then he might save many cities from being sacked in the future. If history was only a string of battles, then honor belonged not to those who made history, but to those who prevented it.
"I might trade a few secrets with you. For example, and just out of curiosity, on my world the thunderpower was known for centuries before anyone thought of using it to make weapons. Was that the case here?"
The old man pondered carefully. Finding no trap in the question, he nodded.
Wallie said, "Another question, then: When Katanji managed to sneak into your tower, he reported seeing a big gold ball on a pillar. That sounds to me like something we called..." He could not say electrostatic generator. It would come out as grunts. "Damn! It sort of collects lightning when you turn a handle and make a belt move. Now, I am guessing that you connect this thing to the metal grid in front of the doors, so any uninvited guest gets zapped. Would you care to comment?"
The sorcerer said nothing at all.
"Come on!" Wallie coaxed. "I can't think it would stop an army, because it would take too long to collect more of the lightning between zaps. But it would make a good burglar trap. All right-you tell me that, and I'll give you a secret from my world on the same subject."
Rotanxi glared, but finally admitted that at night the gold ball was connected by a metal rope to the door handles, for the purpose Wallie had guessed. It was a very small concession, but the start of trust.
Wallie told him of the lightning rod-useful to anyone who stored gunpowder in a tall tower.
