by Джеффри Лорд
«I would do that, Guroth, whether you let me do so or not. The only way you could keep me from doing so would be to kill me here and now.»
Guroth went pale at the idea. «I do not know what would be the fate reserved for the man who slew one who might be the Pendarnoth. I do not wish to find out. Besides, I think I would have a hard time killing you, and no small chance of being killed myself.»
Blade nodded. «You would. But you are a wise and, I think, an honest man, so you will never have to try. What you propose is a good agreement, and I will follow it.» He thrust out his hand and clasped Guroth's.
«Very well,» said the captain. His voice was lighter, as though a great load had been lifted from his mind. «I will give you the tale as quickly as possible.»
«King Nefus is a boy of eleven. He shows much intelligence and courage, but for all this he is still a child. And a king cannot rule in Pendar until he is eighteen. So for seven more years the real rulers of Pendar will be the Council of Regents. Nefus has a sister, the Princess Harima, who is nine years older than he. But she has no power and can have none under our laws and customs.»
«Such laws and customs about women are not always wise,» put in Blade.
«You may speak the truth,» admitted Guroth. «But it is the law in Pendar, and has been so for centuries. Not even the Pendarnoth could hope to challenge it. At least not without arousing the wrath of the priests.»
«And that would be playing into the hands of the High Councilor Klerus, no doubt. Tell me about this man.»
«He is an eunuch. The High Councilor is always an eunuch, so he may have no family to which he can pass on his wealth and power. Thus he is not tempted to take bribes or develop great and corrupt ambitions, for there are none to benefit from these except himself.»
«That is indeed a wise custom,» said Blade. «But I have learned that it does not always work.»
«It has not worked in this case. Klerus is ambitious beyond reason, and cares little that there can be no sons to inherit what he wins. He would rule in Pendar. He would rule in his own right if that were possible, but even in his ambition he knows that cannot be. So he seeks now to rule as the viceroy of the Lanyri.»
«You have mentioned the Lanyri several times. Who are they?»
«They rule a mighty empire on the shores of the Western Ocean, a month's march to the west of Pendar. It is said by travelers who have been among them that they give an orderly rule to those who submit. But it is not a just rule. It is a rule according to Lanyri laws alone. Those who are not of Lanyri blood, or who have not foresworn their native laws and customs and kissed the Lanyri's feet, have no hope of justice under their rule. Their land goes to Lanyri overlords, their women droop at Lanyri looms or become the concubines of Lanyri nobles. Someday the people they have robbed and killed will rise against them and end their empire. But in the meantime they are like wild animals that roam about in a village, striking down all who cannot fight back.»
Blade nodded. Guroth was getting a little off the track. «And they now wish to move east, to bring Pendar under their rule?»
«Yes. They did not wish it at first. Their army is strong and good, but all of its men fight on foot, with swords and heavy armor. They think horsemen are weak and archers cowards, so they have few of these. And so they find it hard to face our mounted archers.
«They know that well. Pendar has great amounts of gold, which to the Lanyri is something precious. I do not understand why, but that is their custom. A hundred years ago, in the reign of King Korfin IV, they demanded that we give them as much gold each year as half a thousand strong horses could carry. We refused. It is our gold. So they sent an army to invade our land, 'teach us a lesson,' and carry away all that gold and much more besides by force. We met that army with all our horsemen in a great battle and defeated it. Their general we captured and killed, and the Lanyri have held us in respect ever since that day.» Guroth's face lit up as he told his story of Pendar's past glories.
Then it sobered as he came to the present. «But then four years ago King Nefus succeeded to the throne of Pendar. Klerus became High Councilor and ruler of Pendar in all but name. I do not know whether he was ambitious before, but he certainly became so then. It is in the minds and hearts of many people that he has had dealings with the Lanyri. He has promised to betray Pendar by dividing and dispersing our army. Then the Lanyri will invade and march upon Vilesh. They have mighty siege machines that will break down its walls within a few days. Then the soldiers will pour in and burn and kill and rape until there is nothing left alive or standing in the whole city. Vilesh is the heart of Pendar. When that heart stops beating, Pendar will die, and of all its people, only the dead will be free of Lanyri rule.»
«A terrible fate for a brave people,» said Blade. He was not entirely feigning the outrage in his voice. On the other hand, what could Klerus say in his defense if given the chance? And how did the Pendari look in the eyes of the Lanyri? This was going to be a matter of open eyes and ears and a closed mouth for many weeks to come yet. Aloud he said, «If Klerus is such a great villain, why have the people who know of his villainy not gone to the other councilors and spoken to them of it?»
Guroth smiled. «You do indeed know little of the way of things among the mighty in Pendar. At least a third of the councilors are in Klerus' pocket. He leads them on with dreams of sharing the spoils from the ruins of their own land. And another third he has won to silence, if not support, by bribes, threats, and the like. Only a handful remain true to the interests of Pendar and the Royal House.»
Blade was about to speak but Guroth held up a hand. «And if you are about to ask why not speak to the king-we have thought of that. We have lain awake nights thinking of ways to do that, and prayed to all the gods of Pendar to show us a way to make the king listen.
«But Nefus is a child, an orphan. The High Councilor is the closest thing to a father he has now, or will ever have again. Klerus loses no opportunity to show the boy how much his 'Uncle Klerus' loves and respects him, humors him» Guroth spread his hands in disgust.
«We have found no way to sow the seeds of doubt in the boy's mind. The Princess Harima believes us and works with us as much as she can, but she has no power and little influence. We have even thought of assassinating Klerus, but Nefus would never forgive us for that. He would let loose the archers of the Council upon us, and the archers are headed by one of Klerus' most loyal supporters. We would be signing our own death warrants and almost certainly be unleashing civil war in Pendar. And civil war would give the Lanyri just as good a chance as Klerus' treachery.»
Guroth fell silent, weary in body, voice, and spirit. He stared off into the darkness as Blade considered his own reply. His path was obvious if Guroth was telling the whole truth. But of that he could not be sure. There was nothing to do but wait and watch until he could be sure.
«You have spoken well, Guroth. You have kept your promise. Now I shall keep mine. Klerus' dreams of having the Pendarnoth in his pocket will be just that-dreams. This I swear by my honor as a warrior, the thing most sacred to me.»
They shook hands and together they walked back to their tent.
CHAPTER FIVE
They rode long and hard the next day, but this time they ended their ride well before dark in a Pendari village of a hundred-odd mud and stone huts. Guroth's men rode past the village's goats and gaunt cattle and its straggling fields of grain, stopping outside a palisade of sharpened posts interlaced with thorny branches. Naked children and scrawny chickens scattered in all directions as Guroth sprang down to the ground and strode over to the gate. He raised his lance and pounded on the gate.
«Open, toilers. Open, my brothers. I, Guroth, bring the Pendarnoth among you.»
If he had set the village on fire, he could not have produced a greater commotion. A stunned silence gave way in seconds to a furious babble of voices. Prayers, questions, and cries rose and mingled in a total pandemonium. Then the gate flew open so fast it nearly knocked Gu
roth off his feet. The villagers began to pour out, and from the other direction, the men in the fields who had been watching the flocks and herds also came running. In a few minutes people were massed 400 strong and ten ranks deep around Blade. Men, women, and children alike were raising their hands to him, praying to him, invoking his name, begging to be allowed to touch him or the Golden Steed. If Guroth had not ordered his men to dismount and lock lances in a circle around Blade, the Pendarnoth might have been pulled out of the saddle by his enthusiastic worshipers.
Half-deafened by the villagers' cries and pleas and half-stifled by their unwashed mass, Blade could not help grinning. Guroth had wanted to make a dramatic entrance into Pendari territory. He had succeeded. Indeed, he had succeeded better than he could have hoped, if nearly starting a riot among people in the grip of religious hysteria could be called «success.» How was Guroth going to get out of this one? From the expression on the captain's face, he hadn't the faintest idea.
Eventually the uproar died down because people simply lost their voices. More than a few fainted in the crush, and Blade could only hope that none of them would be trampled to death. Finally, with no more than fifty people talking at once, Blade thought he could make himself heard.
«Hail, people of Pendar. What is this village?»
«Lio, oh Father,» came many voices at once.
«People of Lio, I, Pendarnoth, Father of the Pendari, Rider of the Golden Steed-«
«He proclaims himself, he proclaims himself!» came in a chorus of gasps and screams, as everybody seemed to find their voices again. Several more people fainted. Blade sighed wearily, and once again settled down to wait for a lull in the uproar.
It came as throats once again became raw from shouting. «Let me speak, oh people of Lio. Let it be written of this day, that the people of the village of Lio were the first to greet the Pendarnoth as he entered the land of the Pendari. But let the people of Lio do honor also to Captain Guroth and his men, who brought me here safely through the land of the Rojags. The Rojags indeed would have slain me and taken the Golden Steed if Guroth and his men had not been mighty warriors.»
Now the cheers were mixed with cries of horror. The hands reached out again to clap Guroth and his men on the backs and shoulders. For a moment the crowd surged in against them, and it looked as if the circle was going to collapse and all order with it.
But the crowd ran down again before that happened, and this time they stayed run down. Guroth's men were able to push and shove until they had gained themselves a little breathing room. And Blade was able to speak to the villagers without raising his voice to a bellow.
«People of Lio, for all this we thank you. But we have ridden fast and far, and the day has been hot. We will thank you more for food and water for us and our horses, and for a place to rest.» He did not add «in peace and quiet,» although he was tempted.
The crowd did not immediately break up, but it did move aside to form a path to the gate. While his men retrieved their horses, Guroth took the bridle of the Golden Steed and led it and Blade toward the gate.
As they passed into the narrow main street of the village, Blade saw a slim dark-haired figure peering intently at him from a shadowy passage between two houses. He pointed her out and asked Guroth, «Who is that girl? She was not among the other people, was she?»
«She would not be, oh Pendarnoth,» said one of the villagers. «She has Rojag blood, thanks to her mother's whorish habits. She is-«
«You lie, you fat pig,» the girl screamed. «My mother was a better woman than your wife or daughters will ever be. What happened to her was not her fault. And even if it was, what about me?»
The villager growled angrily, then snapped, «Get out of here, you whore's daughter! You profane the sight of the Pendarnoth.»
«Whore's daughter?» the girl screamed. She snatched up a large dry turd from the alley and flung it at the villager. Her aim was good. He let out a bellow of rage and jerked out a knife. He would have leaped to slash at the girl if Blade had not brought down a hand and grabbed the back of his collar.
«There will be no brawling in Lio this day, my friend. And no killing of girls in my sight ever. I have fought Rojag warriors, but I have no quarrel with their women and children. Remember that, and put the knife away before I come down from the Golden Steed and break your arm.» He twisted the collar tight until the man's face went purple and his eyes bulged. «Do you understand?» The man nodded, and Blade let him go. Then he looked at the girl and said, «Approach me. What is your name?»
«Curana, if it pleases the Pendarnoth.» The girl stepped into the light. Seen more clearly, she was definitely attractive. Although her brown skin was dirty and her blueblack hair tangled like a thicket, there was a gracefully curved body under the black robe she wore. The bare feet were slim, and long-toed. The eyes-Blade suddenly realized that he was staring at the girl more intently than he had intended. Mutterings were rising from the villagers behind him. Guroth was looking down at the ground.
Blade realized that this was not the time to do a thorough job on the prejudices of the people of Lio. He reached down and let Curana hold his hand for a moment, then raised it in farewell. «Go in peace, Curana. And let none do her harm in my sight or hearing, people of Lio.» He nodded to Guroth, who raised his head and led the Golden Steed on into the village.
Although the villagers were packed like sardines into their houses, they would have emptied half the houses in the village for the Pendarnoth and his escort if asked. As it was, Blade asked only for one house for his escort and another for himself. The villagers obliged, not only providing Blade with a house to himself, but cleaning every nook and cranny of its one room. He suspected he was still sharing it with a horde of bugs, but he wasn't inclined to worry about that. Nor was he inclined to complain about the half-raw meat and the more than half-burned bread they gave him for dinner. In this village there could be little food to spare. There was enough to fill his stomach, and after that he was able to curl up in the smelly sheepskins and drift off to sleep.
He was awakened by a faint scratching in the room. It was no louder a sound than a mouse might have made, but it was too regular for any animal. Instantly awake, he silently drew his knife from beneath the sheepskin and stiffened, waiting. The scratching went on. It seemed to be moving in a circle around him, from right to left. He risked moving his head slightly, enough to be able to look off to one side.
The room was almost totally black, for it had no windows and the door was closed. But a tiny bit of light crept through a hole in the roof over the hearthstone. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Blade could see in that faint light a human figure crouching almost within arm's reach. It was small but shapeless, and its back was turned to him. An inch at a time, Blade slid toward it.
Blade was almost within reach of the figure when it suddenly rose to a standing position. Blade froze, waiting to see if it would turn around, poising himself to move fast. The figure's shoulders heaved, and it began to turn.
Blade moved also. A mighty thrust of his powerful arms sent him rolling toward the figure, while at the same time his legs kicked out, hurling the sheepskins away from him. He crashed into the figure like a log rolling down a hillside, knocking it to the ground. Before it could move or do more than gasp faintly, he was kneeling above it. Both its hands were clasped tightly in his own left hand, while his right hand held the knife at its throat. The wrists he was holding felt slim and delicate.
Then he started as he recognized the face looking up at him out of a black hood. It was the girl Curana. Her eyes were wide, but he could see neither surprise nor fear in them. In fact, her lips were curled in a faint smile. Her voice was low and calm as she spoke.
«Pendarnoth, I have come to you, for it is said that you have the strength of ten men in all things.»
Blade found it hard to keep from laughing out loud. Instead of an assassin, the lurking figure was only the local pariah curious about the alleged superhuman sexual prowes
s of the Pendarnoth. He released her hands and sat up. He tried to make his voice severe.
«Why did you come sneaking around here like a thief, Curana? That was not a wise thing to do around a warrior. There are some who would have stabbed first…» He showed her the knife-«… and asked questions of the corpse. And how did you get past the guard Guroth placed outside the door of this hut?»
«Is that what you call that man who was sprawled on the ground outside the door? He was asleep and snoring so that one could hear him three streets off. A child could have made its way past him. And I am no child. I am a woman.» She reached down for the hem of her robe and with a swift motion, drew it over her head and threw it on the floor. «I am a woman,» she repeated.
Blade hardly needed her to tell him that. His own eyes told him the same thing. The slimness he had suspected was there, but there were firm conical breasts and well-fleshed hips he had not suspected. And he was responding to them. Unmistakably, undeniably, he was responding. And Curana was noticing this response. The faint smile on her face was now a grin.
«You are not ten times as big as a man,» she said gleefully. «Does that mean anything?»
«It means nothing that you need worry about,» said Blade. He could not help finding both the situation and Curana amusing. He wondered if indeed there would be many women curious to see if the Pendarnoth's prowess was as the stories predicted. He hoped there would not be too many. If there were, he would find it hard to retain the prowess of one man, let alone ten.
But that was nothing to worry about now. He had been sleeping naked. There were no clothes to strip off before he reached out and put his hands on Curana's shoulders. The tips of his long fingers almost met across the back of her neck, under her hair. She had somehow managed to clean and comb it. It felt silky and straight in his fingers, no longer tangled and stiff with dirt.
Her eyes closed and her mouth opened as she felt his touch. He felt her body stiffen slightly, and a thought struck him. Was this girl possibly a virgin? It seemed improbable, or was it? The girl was a pariah in Lio. What man of the village would have her? So she had come to the Pendarnoth? He would soon find out.
