by Джеффри Лорд
It was hard to tell that a hundred and fifty men were moving swiftly down the river within a few hundred yards of Blade. He knew it, though, and knew that he belonged among these men. When everything that civilization put into him was stripped away, what remained was an adventurer and a warrior. That was the true Richard Blade, but that was also a man who had no safe or easy place in the Home Dimension of the twentieth century. Luck and the genius of Lord Leighton sent him to Dimension X, where he was usually far more at home than most men could ever have been.
Chapter 8
At dawn the Fak’si raiders were already within striking distance of their target. The gamble of the night journey had paid off. One canoe rammed a floating log and sprang an unstoppable leak, but its men scrambled safely into other canoes. A second canoe got lost in a side channel and for a while Swebon thought it might have fallen victim to the Horned Ones. But as the two chiefs were choosing men for the two attack parties, the missing canoe paddled up. So the chiefs had all their men for the attack on the Yal village.
It was actually four villages lying so close together that an attack on one had to be an attack on all. Among them the four villages had more than twice as many warriors as the raiders, so the two chiefs came up with an ingenious plan. Half the attackers would approach the villages in canoes, attacking them in succession. The other half would slip across country and take position in the Forest behind the first village.
As the attack from the river struck the first village, its women and children would run into the Forest and the warriors of the other villages would dash to its rescue. The attackers waiting in the Forest would catch the fleeing women and children and ambush the warriors coming to the rescue. The men in the Forest would also give warning if the Treemen came.
«Sometimes the Treemen come when they see us fighting,» said Swebon. «They think to steal our women while we are too busy to protect them. But they have to be very quick. Otherwise we call the Truce of the Treemen and stop fighting each other to fight them.»
That was what Blade might have expected from a people whose wars were hardly more than a rather bloody sport. On the other hand, the plan for the attack on the Yal villages was not at all what he’d expected. It was subtle, sophisticated, and implied a great deal of thinking by the chiefs and good discipline by the warriors. It might be «every man for himself» when the fighting actually started, but until then they seemed to follow orders as well as many Home Dimension troops.
So the Forest People might know a great deal about war, in spite of their primitive weapons. With better equipment, they might be able to hold their own against the Sons of Hapanu, or even drive them into the sea. But if the People had better weapons, would they be able to resist the temptation to use them on each other?
That was a difficult question, and it would have to wait. Swebon was counting off the warriors of his party, the ones to go overland. He signaled to Blade to join him. Blade picked up his weapons and walked over to stand by the chief. A few more men joined the circle around Swebon, then he raised his hand in farewell to Tuk and led his men into the green darkness of the Forest.
The Yal village lay quiet in the early morning sunlight, but it was not asleep. Its people were hard at work, but none of the work made much noise. Smoke rose straight from cooking fires and forges. Bare-breasted women and naked children pulled weeds from a field of yellow-leaved plants. Two men with armfuls of grass thatched a hut. Somewhere in the village somebody was pounding something, and every so often a child laughed or cried out: There was nothing else for Blade to hear, as he lay beside Swebon under a concealing bush.
The sun rose higher, sweat poured off Blade, and insects came to whine and nip. Swebon lay like a statue carved from blue granite and there was no sign of the river attack party. Blade tried to tell himself that if they’d been detected, the village would hardly be so still. A root under him began to painfully gouge his ribs-then suddenly the village was no longer quiet.
Three men in a canoe came paddling furiously up the river, one of them waving a bloody arm. A fourth man was slumped in the bottom of the canoe, a spear in his thigh. As they turned toward the bank, the paddlers began shouting.
«Raiders, raiders! The Fak’si are coming! Raiders-!»
That was all Blade heard from the men before the uproar in the village drowned them out. War cries and women’s screams rose, followed by the thud of drums and the crash and clang of people beating on cooking pots and anvils. Someone tossed a handful of leaves into a fire, and instantly the smoke rising from it turned a repulsive green. Then four armed men appeared, herding women and children ahead of them into the field. Blade looked at Swebon, but the chief shook his head. A moment later the first canoe of the river party appeared around the bend. Tuk was standing up in the bow, waving his war club.
If there’d been confusion before in the village, now there was chaos. Or at least it looked like chaos, until Blade saw that everyone seemed to know where they were going. Many warriors were hurrying down to the riverbank, some standing in the open shouting defiance, some concealing themselves behind huts or trees. Other warriors were escorting more women and children inland. A steady stream of them was passing no more than fifty feet from Blade and Swebon. Some of the women were carrying pots, sacks, and baskets. Craftsmen were picking up their tools and handing them to women to carry to safety. The younger ones then armed themselves and joined the warriors, while the older ones went inland with the women.
Now the raiders’ canoes were swinging in toward the village. Tuk was still standing in the bow of the lead canoe. Two warriors aimed spears at him and threw. Age hadn’t dimmed his eye or slowed his arm. His shield snapped up and both spears thudded harmlessly into it. But the impact knocked him off balance, and as the canoe ran aground Tuk went overboard into the water with a tremendous splash. He could easily have been speared or filled with arrows as he struggled to his feet, but everyone on both sides was laughing too hard to use a weapon. Then the other canoes were pulling up alongside the first, the Fak’si warriors were splashing ashore, and suddenly there was nothing to laugh at in the fighting that exploded through the village.
Tuk rose out of the water and took a club blow on his shield. He swung at his opponent, got under the man’s shield, and hit him in the thigh hard enough to stagger him. Tuk followed up his advantage so fast that he got out ahead of his men. Two of the Yal tackled him, one from each side. He beat down a spear thrust, but took a gash in the leg from a knife. The man with the knife didn’t pull back in time and Tuk’s club came down on his shoulder. He dropped and lay writhing. Blade noted that Tuk could easily have smashed the man’s skull, but deliberately struck his shoulder instead. Then Tuk’s men were all around him again, Guno among them, and the Yal were so badly outnumbered they had to retreat.
Or at least it seemed that way to the attackers landing from the canoes. Blade and Swebon had seen the Yal warriors seeking hiding places. They knew that the attackers were being led into an ambush. Unfortunately there was nothing they could do about it. If they broke out of cover now, they’d be finished before they could shout a warning.
The Fak’si from the canoes came on, and suddenly the air around them was filled with spears and thrown stones. The range was so close that everything hit hard, and the Yal were in too much of a hurry to aim carefully. Blade saw one warrior go down clawing at a spear deep in his chest, and another with his thigh gushing blood. Both would be dead within minutes. Other Fak’si also took bloody wounds, and in return they began to stop pulling their own blows. Blade saw Tuk smash a man’s knee with his club, while Guno dropped both spear and shield to grip an opponent with both hands and choke him to death.
Then a wild chorus of screams and shouts erupted from behind Blade and Swebon. The refugees from the village had run into the overland raiders. Swebon signaled to Blade, then leaped to his feet and gave his war cry.
A warrior escorting the women turned, saw Swebon, and hurled a spear. Swebon deliberately lowere
d his shield, then snatched the spear out of the air with his free band. He whirled on one foot, then threw the spear back at its owner. It sank deep into a tree. The other man pulled it free and raised it in salute to Swebon.
By now the Yal in the village had also seen Blade and Swebon. Several spears thudded into the ground around them, then an archer sent two arrows at Blade. One missed his head by inches, another struck the head of his spear with a metallic tak! Blade decided that the safest place around here was in the middle of the enemy’s warriors, where the Yal couldn’t shoot arrows or throw spears at him without hitting friends. He ran toward the nearest enemy and Swebon ran beside him.
Two Yal seemed to sprout from the ground at Blade’s feet. One held a spear, the other a long-handled ax with a stone head edged with iron. Blade took the spear on his shield, then swung his own spear sideways at the axman’s raised arm. The shaft smashed across the man’s arm as his ax started down and Blade heard the bone crack. Somehow the man held onto the ax, but his blow was wild and harmless. For a moment he was wide open, and Blade kicked him smartly in the stomach. He gasped and crumpled up, while Blade turned to face the spearman.
The man thrust at Blade twice more. The second time the thrust went through Blade’s shield. As the man tried to pull free, Blade swung the shield violently. The swing jerked the man off balance before he could let go of the spear and Blade thrust at him. The man raised his own shield, then Blade hooked his shield around the edge of his opponent’s and jerked, leaving the man wide open. Instead of thrusting the man through the chest, Blade jabbed him lightly in the shoulder. Then he dropped his spear and punched the man hard in the jaw. The man went over backward so violently he nearly somersaulted, then lay still, groaning, cursing, and out of the fight.
Beside Blade Swebon was also finishing off his second opponent. Now the Yal seemed to forget about their women and concentrate on Blade and Swebon. Suddenly the two big men found themselves surrounded by what seemed like a dozen opponents. They stood back to back and let the Yal come at them.
Blade successfully used the trick of hooking an opponent’s shield aside with the edge of his own twice more: The Forest People didn’t seem to have developed this particular fighting technique. Then too many enemies were coming at him too fast for him to risk having his own shield out of position for a single moment.
His battered spear broke off in someone’s shield. He used the broken end of the shaft to beat aside someone’s club, then thrust over the shield into the man’s forehead. As the man staggered back with a bleeding scalp, Blade dropped the spear shaft and unslung his club from his belt in time to meet his next opponent. He struck one blow so hard it caved in the top of a Yal shield, and struck another blow that caved in the man’s skull. Then he took a glancing blow that half-numbed his shield arm and crouched down, so he could rest his shield on the ground and still stay behind it.
Unfortunately this slowed Blade down, and three Yal closed in around him. One came too close and Blade swung his club in a flat arc, breaking the man’s leg and knocking him down. A second Yal thrust a spear violently across Blade’s shoulder. Blade’s club swung, breaking the man’s spear, then he drove his shield into the man’s face and broke his spear arm with another blow of the club.
For a moment Blade had a clear space around him and enough time to catch his breath and examine his shoulder. Fortunately it was only a simple flesh wound, one that should heal all right if it didn’t get infected. But it wasn’t so light because the Yal had pulled his thrust. The man had been doing his best to kill Blade, and he’d have gone on trying if Blade hadn’t disabled him. It looked to Blade as if the bloody sport of war among the Forest People was sometimes more «bloody» than «sporting.»
Then suddenly Fak’si warriors seemed to be dropping from the trees and springing out from among them all around Blade. Blade’s opponents scattered, except for one man who stumbled and went down. Two Fak’si warriors clubbed him unconscious before he could rise.
Swebon greeted his men, then turned to Blade. «You did as I hoped, Blade. The Fak’si will not soon forget your fighting this day.»
«Neither will the Yal,» said Blade. Then he realized this sounded like a boast, rather than a warning of Yal anger and possible vengeance. He shrugged. «I will teach your warriors my skills with a shield, if they are willing to learn.»
«They will be,» said Swebon. «But you are wounded. Do you wish to go to the canoes?»
«Not yet,» said Blade.
«Good,» said Swebon. «By custom only the chief and those warriors he chooses may enter the chief’s house in a captured village. I choose you to come with me.»
«I am honored,» said Blade. He was also feeling much less ready for another full-scale fight than he’d implied, but he could hardly drop out now. Swebon seemed ready to fight all day, although he looked as if he’d been wrestling a bear, with cuts and gouges in a dozen places.
The chief led the way toward the village, and a score of warriors fell into line behind them. They found the village firmly in the hands of the men from the canoes, except for the chief’s house. This was on a single large triangular platform, supported by a tree at each corner. Tuk, Guno, and several more warriors were standing at the foot of the stairs up to the platform. All around them captured women and children were being tied up and dead and wounded Yal warriors laid out.
The two chiefs led the way up the stairs, shields and spears ready, with Blade following Swebon and Guno following Tuk. Guno was covered with blood, none of it apparently his, and glowered at Blade as they climbed.
There were four rooms in the chiefs house, separated by light walls of reeds. The floor was covered with rush mats, some of them torn up. Bowls, gourds, and bedding were scattered all over. The two chiefs probed each piece of bedding with their spears.
«Sometimes the Yal will leave snakes in such places, to give us evil surprises,» said Swebon. «In my father’s time, none of the People did such things, but ways change.»
Yes, thought Blade. Ways change. They change, and war becomes more bloody at a time when the People need their strength against the Sons of Hapanu.
Guno laughed harshly. «Swebon, is this Englishman a child, that you must explain such things to him?»
Blade saw the chief stiffen, but his voice was light as he spoke. «Ask the Yal who fought him today. If they call him a child I will eat my own shield for dinner tonight.»
Blade smiled. «I think Swebon will eat meat tonight, Guno. Among the English, snakes have not been used in war for many years, so I did not know what Swebon told me. Among the English it is not the sign of a child to be told things-only to think or say that one knows everything.»
With their picked warriors the two chiefs searched the captured house. They found no snakes, but a fair amount of valuable loot-carved bowls, ornaments of iron and bone, a decorated shield and several spears. Swebon gave one of the spears to Blade, who found it much better-balanced than any other he’d handled in this Dimension. It was a bit light, but it would certainly throw easily and accurately.
They searched the whole house without finding a living soul. They returned to the first room, and were piling the loot by the door when suddenly Blade heard a faint sneeze. He stiffened and looked around, then saw Swebon doing the same.
«Who sneezed?» the chief said. Everyone looked blankly at him, then at their friends, then up at the ceiling and down at the floor.
«Ghosts,» someone muttered, and Blade saw some of the curious looks change to fearful ones. He shook his head.
«Living men, I think,» he said. «Perhaps we should pull up the matting?»
Swebon nodded. Several warriors dropped their weapons and started tearing at the mats. Blade and the chiefs held onto their spears and kept watch.
The mats came up swiftly. Guno seemed to delight in showing off his immense strength, not only pulling the mats up but ripping them to pieces. At least he gripped a section that seemed to bulge slightly in the middle. He gave a trem
endous heave and the mat tore free so suddenly that Guno sat down with a thump. Where the mat had been was a neat wooden box between the beams of the floor. In it were two cloaked human figures.
Before anyone could stop him, Tuk stepped forward and prodded one of the figures with the point of his spear. There was a sudden animal screech of rage that froze everyone, and the figure suddenly exploded into a young woman with a knife in one hand. She grabbed the shaft of Tuk’s spear and heaved. Caught by surprise, the chief was jerked forward, tripped over the edge of a pulled-up mat, and landed flat on top of Guno.
The young woman leaped out of the box, looking ready to fight the whole roomful of warriors. Someone raised a spear. Before he could throw, Blade stepped forward. He dropped his own weapons and closed in bare-handed. The woman struck at him with her knife but he sidestepped the thrust and chopped her across the side of the neck. She went down, but struck again as Blade reached for her. He gripped her knife hand in both of his and twisted until the knife dropped to the floor.
He knelt beside her, holding her down, while Tuk and Guno got to their feet and came over to look at the captive. She glared up at them, and Blade saw that she was not only young but quite lovely, slimmer than the usual full-figured woman of the Forest People. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. The look in her eyes said enough.
«For what she has done to a chief, she should be turned over to the men,» said Guno. The woman’s expression didn’t change, but Blade saw her shudder. «Then she should be-«
«She is Blade’s captive,» said Swebon. «It is he who must say what is to be done with her.»
«Thank you, Swebon,» said Blade. He pulled the woman to her feet and held her hands firmly. «In England, a woman who thrusts herself into matters of war is not raped or slain. We think she is no more than a child, and punish her as a child.» He released the woman’s right hand and started to turn her around.
