by Джеффри Лорд
It got worse as they approached the walls of the city. Now people clung to trees by the hundreds, holding banners embroidered in gold and silver out over the road. Blade had to keep his head low to avoid being hit in the face by the heavy cloths. The flowers poured down like a hailstorm, until there were blossoms sticking in Blade's hair and clothing and the horse's mane.
There was a moment of darkness, coolness, and comparative quiet as they rode through the gateway in the thick walls of the city. Then it all began again-the cheers, the cries, the crowds pressing so close that the escort on either side had to wheel their horses inward to keep from riding people down. Sometimes they had to stop entirely, as small children sprinted across the street in front of them. Blade saw Threstar's face in one of those moments. It was the face of a man who would much prefer to have spurred his horse ahead and trampled the child into a bloody paste on the stones of the street. But he was holding himself in today, for today was the coming of the Pendarnoth and no ill omen must be allowed to spoil it. One of the advantages of being a messiah, thought Blade. With luck you can put everybody around you on their good behavior-even the natural storm-trooper types like Threstar.
They rode down the street from the gate for quite a while. Occasionally Blade twisted his head around to look back at Guroth and the others-especially Curana. In this mob scene it would be easy for something to happen to her «accidentally.» But each time he looked back, she was still in her saddle. Her face was strained and pale under the coating of dust, but she held herself as erect as any of the soldiers around her.
After what couldn't have been more than a few minutes but seemed like an hour, the whole procession rode out into a gigantic square. It seemed the better part of a mile on a side, and except for a narrow lane kept open by a double line of mounted archers, it was packed with people. Every living soul in Vilesh seemed to have come out to greet the Pendarnoth. There were great-grandfathers who had to be carried on litters, and there were newborn infants in their mothers' arms.
Once again only a part of the mob was cheering, while others stood in reverent silence. But the cheers from even that part were enough to make a constant deafening roar in Blade's ears. For the first time, he saw Curana cringe as the sound beat at them. And not only the sound. A quarter of a million people standing packed under even a westering sun were not too sweet to the nose.
At the far side of the square another wall rose, this one dazzling white. Beyond it Blade could see the heavily gilded roofs of a number of elegant buildings. A palace? Probably. Directly ahead, at the far end of the passage through the crowd, stood a gateway, intricately carved and still more dazzlingly gilded. The gates were swung open and a small group of richly dressed figures stood in front of them. They were flanked by more archers in gilded armor.
As the procession approached the gate, Blade could make out the figures more clearly: a dozen men with gray in their hair, wearing shimmering gold and red robes; an enormously fat man in solid red, standing at their head. That must be the Council of Regents and the High Councilor Klerus. A much smaller and slimmer figure, dressed in gold from head to foot, stood beside Klerus. A crown of gold set with rubies shone on his small head. King Nefus, beyond any doubt. And another slim figure, slightly taller, dressed in white, standing well behind the others. Princess Harima?
The archers on either side of the royal party put trumpets to their lips, and more harsh metallic blasts rolled across the square. The trumpeters kept on blowing until Blade wondered how they could have any breath left. The cheers died away, and an awe-struck silence floated down over the crowd like a fog. Threstar reined in his horse, jumped down to the ground, and took the bridle of the Golden Steed. His face impassive, he led Blade and his mount up to the royal party, stopping only ten feet away from Klerus.
Blade suddenly realized he hadn't the foggiest notion of what he was going to say. Hopefully this wasn't an occasions for speeches. But if he had to say anything, he would have to rely on saying it as impressively, and as briefly, as possible. The crowd seemed half ready to fall down on their faces anyway, so they weren't going to be picking holes in his choice of words or delivery.
Threstar knelt to the boy who was King Nefus, and then to the High Councilor Klerus. Even if he hadn't been told that Klerus was a eunuch, Blade would have recognized it now. The man's immense physical bulk and high pitched voice were unmistakable.
Threstar wasted no words. After kneeling, he merely raised his right hand and pointed at Blade. «The Pendarnoth has come, Oh King.» Klerus, the entire Council, and the Princess Harima all joined him in kneeling to Blade. Only the king himself remained standing. Behind him Blade heard a silence fall over the crowd as people by the thousands went down on their knees or even on their faces. But he did not dare turn this time and look at Curana.
Instead, he sat on his horse and let the silence spread around him, until it seemed that the whole square was holding its breath waiting to hear him speak. He took a deep breath and spoke.
«King Nefus, I am the Pendarnoth, the Father of the Pendari, the man who rides the Golden Steed. I have come as it was predicted in your Book of the Nine Prophets. I have looked upon the Pendari and I have found them a worthy people.» Blade fell silent, and realized that he couldn't have said much more if he had to. His throat was dry and there was a hollow cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.
But he didn't need to say anything more, because King Nefus cried out in a clear, boyish voice, «Hail to the Pendarnoth, all people. Hail!» Klerus screamed it out; Threstar echoed him-and then the entire packed square burst into a continuous roar of «Hail to the Pendarnoth!»
The Golden Steed neighed and shuddered nervously as the cheers of a quarter of a million people thundered around it. Blade held the reins tightly and stroked its mane, afraid for a moment that it was going to rear or even bolt. That would be a fine spectacle-the long-awaited Golden Steed running away with the Pendarnoth, scattering the royal party like bowling pins.
How long the cheers and cries lasted Blade had no idea. Beyond a certain point his ears simply wouldn't accept any more sound. Finally he became aware that the noise was ebbing, and that King Nefus was looking up at him. The king's face was indeed that of a boy, thin and brown and large-eyed. But as he looked up at Blade, there was an intensity and a seriousness in his expression that was definitely not that of a boy.
Blade smiled as he looked down at the king. «Your Majesty, I have come before your people. They have seen me, and I have seen them. There is much more that can be done and must be done. But it need not be done here and now, with all the people of this mighty city standing in the sun. Let them return to their homes in peace, let them wish me well, and let me be found a fit and proper place to live. Can this be done, Your Majesty?»
Nefus turned to the High Councilor. «I think we can do these things for the Pendarnoth, can we not, Councilor?»
Klerus nodded his massive head. «We can, Your Majesty.»
«Then let these things be done,» said the king, his voice ringing out with a sudden unexpected strength in the stillness. Then the trumpeters snapped their trumpets up to their lips and shattered the silence with more harsh blasts. Threstar and the other officers began bawling, «Return to your homes and rejoice, Oh people! The Pendarnoth and the king give you leave to go.»
Blade saw stirrings and boilings in the crowd as people began to turn and try to make their way toward the edges of the square. But he did not have time to see much more than that. Threstar again took the Golden Steed by the bridle, and strode forward through the palace gates. Blade risked a look behind him, and saw Guroth urging his horse forward, leading his patrol and Curana after Blade.
He was off to a good start, at least. But a good start would only be a small part of the battle he would be fighting here. What would be the next part? He rather hoped it would be a talk with Klerus. He did not particularly want to make any moves until he had had a chance to size up the High Councilor.
CHAPTER SEVE
N
The royal palace of Pendar covered as much land as a not-too-small town and housed hardly fewer people. Every one of the scores of notables had his personal staff of servants, ranging from the hundreds who waited on the king down to the two or three attached to each officer. Then there were cooks, stewards, bath attendants, more than a thousand foot archers and an equal number of horsemen-the list went on and on.
The palace was equal to housing them all. It took Threstar better than half an hour to lead Blade from the gate of the palace to the room-actually the suite of rooms-that had been reserved for him. Round and round they went, through endless corridors whose floors were inlaid with multi-colored marble polished to a high gloss. They passed entire galleries of statues plated in gold, separated by gold and silver screens, illuminated by oil lamps hanging in gilded, chandeliers. When Threstar and the dozen guards with him finally ushered Blade into his suite, Blade's mind was beginning to reel. He had also noticed one thing about the palace as important as its display of wealth-it was obviously not designed for defense. Once an enemy got inside the walls-high and strong, but far from impregnable-there was nothing but the fighting prowess of the palace guards to keep it from being overrun. The Pendari had lived in peace at home for too long, whatever their prowess in the field. Was the defense of the city being similarly neglected? That was a question Blade knew he wanted answered as soon as possible.
But for the time being, there was nothing for him to do but explore his new quarters. The five rooms came equipped with every luxury imaginable, including some he hadn't expected.
Female companionship, for one thing. He discovered that when he opened the gilded bronze door to the bedroom, and heard the sound of scurrying footsteps inside, followed by a chorus of soft giggling. In spite of the giggling, he had his sword out when he came through the door. Once inside, he quickly slammed the door behind him and set his back against the stone wall. He stared across the floor, covered in thick furs and sheepskins dyed red and orange, to the enormous canopied bed.
Three heads in a neat row peered at him over the thick blue quilt. Three fresh young faces, each crowned with hair of a different, color-from right to left it was coal-black, brown, and blonde. Three sets of eyes were regarding him steadily, with curiosity rather than with fear.
«Well,» he said. It seemed as good an opening remark as any. Apparently the Pendarnoth was not expected to live a life of monastic self-denial. That was a welcome development. Blade was a man of robust and extensive appetites. The life of a monk would have ill-suited him, even in return for worship and adoration.
«Hail, Oh Pendarnoth,» the three girls said in chorus. But somehow the words lacked the note of reverence that Blade had always heard in them before. He looked back at the girls' expressions. No, no reverence here. But then why should there be? These girls were obviously here to minister to the man, not to the religious figure.
And also to spy, he suddenly realized. There was one thing a man like Klerus would be sure to do with any man he did not know. Probably with those he knew also-universal distrust was the basic law of palace politics in every land in every Dimension. He would contrive to place spies in that man's chambers-particularly in his bedchamber. To catch a man at his most unguarded moments, the moments best for catching the careless word or slipping a dagger into an unprotected back. Klerus was not wasting any time, it seemed.
Blade walked over to the bed and sat down on the foot of it. All three girls sat up. They were entirely naked, but this didn't bother them in the least. The blonde, who had the fullest figure, even arched her back and raised her arms to make her breasts stand out more conspicuously (although they didn't really need that kind of assistance). Blade grinned.
«I am happy to meet all three of you,» he said. «I am indeed the Pendarnoth, but I was once a warrior and a traveler named Richard Blade. You may call me by that name at the right time. I am sure you all will know when that time is.» They giggled again at the innuendo. Then he stretched his arms high over his head and grinned again. «I am happy to see you here. But I have fought battles and ridden for many long days. At the moment I want most of all things in Vilesh not three beautiful girls, or even one beautiful girl, but a hot bath.»
The girls giggled again. The blonde pointed to a cord hanging from the corner of the canopy and said, «Pull on that cord, and it will summon the servants.»
Blade pulled the cord. A perfect swarm of servants of both sexes materialized so fast that he wondered if they had sprouted from the walls and floor. They led him into another room where a gilded copper basin decorated with bird shapes stood in the center of the floor. Relays of men brought in steaming buckets of hot water and emptied them into the tub until it was full to the brim. Meanwhile the girls were stripping off Blade's travel-grimed clothes. The three were still stark naked, but obviously gave the matter no thought.
The heat of the water seemed to seep through Blade's flesh into his bones, draining the tension and fatigue out of him. Meanwhile, the three girls climbed into the tub around Blade and went industriously to work on him with soap and sponges. The heavily perfumed soap matched the luxury of everything else in the palace, and Blade decided he would relax and enjoy it as long as he stayed in this Dimension.
Or at least as long as he stayed in the palace, he reminded himself. He was not sure of what his duties as Pendarnoth were. He wasn't even sure if the term «duties» made any sense applied to him. He didn't know whether he was to be permanently on exhibition in the palace, as decorative and about as useful to Pendar as one of those gilded statues in the galleries. It was possible. Nobody he had seen or spoken to here showed any signs of even knowing that there was a Lanyri threat, let alone worrying about it. Was Guroth lying?
Perhaps. That was all he could say until he had talked to Klerus. The High Councilor would at least give him a little more to go on, although hardly the whole truth. In the meantime, there were a few things he could do himself.
The bath was over. The other servants drained the tub down a pipe in the corner of the room and left. The three girls stood around him, toweling him dry, combing his hair (every bit of it), and rubbing him with scented oils. He was going to smell like a bloody perfume shop if this kept up.
They were showing signs of wanting to lead him into the bedroom now-playful tugs on his ear, playful caresses of his genitals. Finally he picked the blonde up under one arm and the black haired girl under the other and carried them into the bedroom. He dumped them squealing on the bed, returned; picked up the brunette, and did the same with her. All three lay on their backs on the bed, arms over their heads, looking up at him expectantly.
He stood over them, yawned, and stretched. «Girls,» he said, «you have heard the stories, no doubt, that the Pendarnoth will have the strength of ten men.»
Two of them giggled, the blonde girl nodded and said, «We have. Is it just a story-or are we going to find out?»
«Not tonight, little ones. As I told you, there is much of the man in me, and that man has fought hard and ridden far. Tonight I doubt if I would have the strength of one man. I would need the strength of at least three to do all of you justice. And I will not do you less than justice by picking out one of you. As a matter of fact, I couldn't make a choice among you if I had to. Each of you is as beautiful as the others.» That was true. They were beautiful in different ways, but there was very little to choose among when you got right down to it.
Then he noticed something that brought him abruptly to the alert. The gaiety and lightness had vanished from all three girls' faces, and in its place was unmistakable tension, even fear. The girls weren't playing now. Something had genuinely frightened them.
He looked at the blonde. She seemed to be the spokeswoman for the three, or at least the one with the readiest tongue. «What is it, girl? Have I frightened you? Has my face suddenly turned green or something, so that you think suddenly I'm not a man at all?»
The joke fell flat. The blonde's blue eyes were wide as she st
ared up at him. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. «Please. You can't-you mustn't-you won't send us away. Please.»
«Why not?» He half-suspected the reason, but he wanted to be sure.
«The c-c-chamberlain will think you-you didn't like us. And if a man doesn't like us-if we can't p-p-please him-«
«The chamberlain beats you?»
Surprise showed in all three sets of eyes. «How did you know?»
«I told you, I have traveled far. It is a custom in many lands.» A vile and ugly custom, he added mentally. Perhaps he might use some of his influence as Pendarnoth to get it changed around here? But that was for the future. For now the girls had given him an opening he badly needed.
«I understand. But I will tell Klerus himself why I did not take any of you. I will tell him the same things I have told you. I think he will understand. And I am sure that the High Councilor of the Council of Regents can tell a mere chamberlain of the palace not to beat three innocent girls.»
He got the reaction he was looking for. All three of the girl's started at the Klerus! name as though they had been stung or whipped. All three went even paler than before. The brunette actually burst into tears. The blonde tried to calm her by patting her on the shoulder. But Blade noticed the second girl's hand was shaking as she did so. He waited until all three of them seemed a little calmer, then said, «What is the matter now? Don't you think Klerus can keep the chamberlain from beating you?»
«Please, Pendarnoth,» said the blonde. «Don't speak to Klerus. He is… he distrusts everybody. If you told him about us, he would become suspicious. And when he becomes suspicious of somebody, worse can happen to them than just a beating. A beating is nothing.»
