Champions Of The Gods rb-21

by Джеффри Лорд

  Arllona's teeth clamped down on her lip again, to stifle a third scream. Her hands clamped tightly, clawing and pulling at Blade's hair. He didn't feel that pain. He felt nothing except the fierce spasms deep inside Arllona's body, the explosion that told him she had reached her climax.

  Blade had not. He knew that the end for him was still far off. He kept moving as Arllona sagged down on the mat, every inch of her skin shimmering with sweat, her eyes closed and her damp hair tangled around her head. It was a moment before she realized that Blade was still strong, still deep within her, still thrusting. Then a broad grin spread across her face.

  Arllona's legs rose, clamping tightly around Blade's waist. He found himself clamped as tightly outside as inside. Arllona-warm and solid and wet-was all around him, against him, drawing him in, holding him, imprisoning him in a new prison even more escape-proof than this tower.

  The feeling heightened every one of the thousand sensations in Blade. It drove him onward, and the rhythm of his hips mounted steadily. Arllona's hips began to grind against him again, thrusting upward, twisting him from side to side in a totally maddening way.

  The sensations and the madness could not go on forever. They were too strong, stronger even than Blade.

  He felt the fire rise in his groin, flicker, pulse, then burst out. A long groan tore its way out of Blade. His whole body jerked and twisted and thrashed desperately at the overpowering sensation of pouring himself into Arllona. For a moment it seemed that all the strength was going out of him along with the hot jetting.

  Then Arllona reached her second climax. Blade could not have collapsed on top of the woman if he'd wanted to. She was moving too furiously in the grip of her own sensations. Her mouth was open, and if she had been able to scream at that moment nothing and nobody could have prevented her. But her throat was dry and nothing came out except a long fading hiss. Then her eyes rolled up in her head and she went limp, totally unconscious.

  The sweat dripped off Blade and painful knots formed in the muscles of his arms. But he did not move until he felt Arllona beginning to stir under him and saw her eyes flicker open. Then he rolled off her, pulled the quilt over both of them, and put his arms around her. They lay like that for quite a while, until Blade felt he had enough breath back to speak, if not to move.

  «You are here, Arllona. How and why?» He deliberately kept his tone and words harsh. He didn't want the woman to get any idea that the wild lovemaking had softened his temper or loosened his tongue.

  The startled look on Arllona's face told Blade she must have been expecting just about that. She was silent for a moment. Then:

  «There are no guards in the chamber outside. I have a key, one that I had made secretly for myself. I came here, hoping that we would do-exactly what we did.» Blade saw a faint smile on her face in the darkness.

  He reached out and lifted her chin until her eyes had to meet his. She tried to twist her head out of his grip, but he gently tightened his fingers. «Arllona, you do not have to risk entering this chamber to have a man. Mirdon said as much, the day I came here.»

  Arllona's face twisted with genuine anger. «Mirdon is a great warrior and a great mouth too. He does not know how I live. The Keeper of the Prison may not be a woman, but he is not much of a man. So why should I not-?»

  «You still aren't telling the truth. Even if the Keeper was drooling and impotent, there are many men outside this chamber. There is only one inside it. Why did you come to the one-to me? Tell the truth this time, or I am going to tie you up and keep you here until morning comes and the guards return.» He closed one hand around her left wrist to emphasize his words. «It was not wise of you to come here unarmed and then lie to me.»

  Arllona shivered in unmistakably genuine fear. «No, please, not-don't tell the guards. They will send me to the Mouth of the Gods with you if you do. I don't want to die that way! I don't!» She was biting her lip again, this time to keep from bursting into tears.

  «Why should I care if you die in the flames or not? Don't tell me that this night should be enough, either. You'd be wasting your breath.»

  Arllona was silent for a long moment. Blade could hear her breathing returning slowly to normal, as she apparently reached a decision.

  «I came because I can help you escape,» she said at last.

  Blade's expression and voice did not change. «How? Do you know the way out of this prison? If you do not, you know nothing I do not, and there is no reason I should trust you.»

  «I know the way as far down as the roof garden,» she said firmly.

  «But that is guarded,» said Blade. He was testing her now.

  «Not as well as it once was,» said the woman. «I know there are only two guards there at night. That is still too many for me. I could not fight them. But they will not stand against a warrior of the Raufi.»

  «And then?»

  «You mean, when you have slain the guards?»

  «Yes.»

  «The garden is no more than the height of fifteen tall men above the ground. One side drops straight down the inner wall, into the Gardens of Stam. There are strong vines in the roof garden. Again, I could not cut them and make a rope of them, or climb down that rope without help. But a warrior of the Raufi-«

  «You seem very ready to praise the warriors of the Raufi, for a woman of Kano.» Arllona was silent, but Blade saw something-surprise? alarm? — unmistakably flicker briefly in her eyes. His hands clamped on her jaw and wrist again. This time he did not hold back his strength. He wanted to frighten her, tear out of her the truth she still hadn't told.

  «Tell me-why this praise for the Raufi? You are an agent of Dahrad Bin Saffar, aren't you? Tell me, then-why should I not tell Dahrad what a clumsy agent you are? I cannot imagine that he rewards foolish spies.»

  For a moment Blade thought he was going to have to knock Arllona unconscious to keep her from having hysterics. She writhed and heaved and struggled, trying to bite the hand he clamped over her mouth and pull free of the arm locked around her waist. She whimpered and gasped and moaned. Blade did not relax until she lay silent and still in his arms.

  «Please,» she murmured at last. «Please. Do not tell anyone. If Dahrad does not stake me out in the desert, the Jade Masters will do something even worse. I don't want to die. I don't!»

  Blade reflected that she was certainly in the wrong profession if she was that afraid to die. Spying was a risky business in any Dimension. «You have my word that I will do everything I can to keep you alive, if you tell me the truth. Start with the Jade Masters.»

  It took quite a while to finally get the truth out of Arllona. She was no longer trying to conceal anything, but she was too sick with fright and worry to be very coherent.

  The Jade Masters might be citizens of Kano, but they did not really care much who ruled it. What they wanted was the assurance that their lives, families, mines, and profits would stay intact through the worst the Raufi could do to the city. So the Council of the Jade Masters was secretly negotiating with Dahrad Bin Saffar.

  «What are they promising?»

  Apparently Arllona was telling the truth when she said she didn't know exactly. She was only a courtesan, once the mistress of one of the Council. By having her arrested on a minor charge, the Council had placed her in the prison. There she was to spy out the prison and spy on the Keeper. The Keeper came from an old and much-honored family, knew many secrets, and talked freely when in his cups or in his bed. There was very little that Arllona didn't know about making an old man talk freely, and very little of what he'd said over the past few months that she'd forgotten.

  Now she had to get out of the prison, and soon. She had to get at least as far as the Gardens of Stam, where the Jade Masters had a hidden rendezvous for their spies. Until Blade appeared, she hadn't been able to even imagine how to make her escape.

  «I have been in the roof garden. I know the way down there, and I tell the truth about the vines and the wall. I must have your help. Otherwise-«She shr
ugged helplessly.

  Blade suspected that Arllona was actually a good deal less helpless than she pretended to be. But even if she was planning to lead him into a trap, it would take a strong trap to hold him if it caught him with a sword in his hand. Certainly he could not hope for any better chance to get out of this prison.

  If worse came to worst, he would at least have a chance to take a few Kanoans with him, rather than to sizzle helplessly on that blasted cart! Also, the escape or death of his prize sacrifice would make the Second Consecrated Jormin very unhappy indeed. It was good to think about annoying that arrogant bastard!

  «Why are you smiling so, brother?» Arllona asked.

  Blade swiftly improvised an answer. «I was remembering how you came to me and what you had in mind.»

  Arllona laughed nervously. Blade suspected that in daylight he would have seen her blushing. «That was very foolish of me. I–I wanted a real man, not that old-! But you are a Raufi. I was fortunate that you wanted me.»

  «Why?»

  «Well, you know, so many of you are great lovers of boys or other men. They will not lie with a woman except one they consider fit to bear their sons.»

  Blade's smile widened. «Well, you have seen that I do not think that way.»

  «Truly, you do-«The rest of her words vanished in a whimper of delighted surprise as Blade's arms went around her and his lips pressed down on hers. Warmth and desire rose in him again, and as he tightened his grip he could feel it rising in her too.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning Jormin himself came in with the guard who brought the food and the doctor who examined Blade's wounds. The priest hovered over the doctor until it was obvious that the man would have lost his temper if it hadn't been too dangerous to quarrel with one of the Consecrated.

  «Is he healing?» Jormin asked. «When will he be healed? The wrath of the gods will be upon Kano if there is no one for the Mouth soon!»

  «He is healing,» replied the doctor. «Are you sure that the gods' wrath is not already upon us? The Raufi have never struck so close to the walls as they did last night. Do you think that you-?» He cut himself off as Jormin's eyes hardened. His eyes were murderous as they watched the priest turn away.

  When he was alone, Blade went to the window and looked out. He saw at once what the doctor had meant. Not far beyond the outer walls, a solid mass of smoke a mile wide rose into the morning sky. Farther out, Blade could see clouds of dust and the glint of sun on armor and weapons as the army of Kano rushed about.

  Blade realized that his fate now depended on the outcome of a three-way race. Would Arllona be able to arrange his escape before Jormin decided that he was ready to sacrifice him, or the Raufi swarmed over the walls? He and Arllona had agreed that the best time for the escape would be another night when the outer chamber was empty of guards. There would be no one to kill, meaning no bodies left lying about to give any warning.

  But the guards' chamber would be empty only if there was another large Raufi attack, one that drew every man who could carry a weapon to the walls. The next time the Raufi came, however, might be the grand assault on the city itself.

  «The very winds blowing off the desert bring the smell of the gathering of the Raufi,» a guard had said.

  At least Jormin would not be able to come secretly in the night and carry Blade off. He would have to warn the Prison Keeper, and if he warned that old man, Arllona would learn the secret. The Keeper would certainly mumble it in drunkenness or passion. Then Blade and Arllona would have to move at once, striking down however many guards they met-and hoping luck would be with them.

  The days passed. Blade gradually took to staying up later and later, watching for the distant glare of flames that told of a Raufi attack. No one would notice anything amiss if he slept late in the morning. It was more important to be awake, alert, and ready to go when-and if-Arllona came. If Arllona didn't come, Jormin and his guards would, sooner or later. Then it would be even more important to be ready to fight. Blade didn't expect to survive such a fight, let alone escape. He was sure that he could at least spatter Jormin's brains all over the nearest wall.

  Twice the Raufi attacked where Blade could see their fires. On a third night the sound of galloping horses and marching men told Blade of an attack on the other side of the city. Neither Jormin nor Arllona came, either by day or by night.

  Again Blade awoke in darkness to hear the sound of someone at the door of his chamber. He wasted no time in cursing himself for having dozed off. Instantly awake, he rolled out of bed, snatched up the lid of the chamber pot, and padded softly toward the door.

  This time the sound at the door was not the metallic clicking of a key. It was a series of solid thumps on the outside of the door. Blade flattened himself against the wall and listened. Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump. Distinct pairs-Arllona's signal. Escape now-and prepare to face two guards.

  The Kanoans were so sure that no one could get out of the great prison that they left Blade's door unlocked from the inside. As he slowly turned the big bronze wheel that freed the latch, he heard murmuring voices outside. Then he heard a wordless cry, unmistakably a man's, and the thud of a body striking hard against a wall. At the same moment the latch clicked free. Blade jerked the door open just wide enough for him to pass through and strode forward.

  One of the guards had Arllona backed against a wall. His trousers were down around his ankles and her tunic was up around her waist. He was lifting her clear of the ground as Blade appeared. The other guard stood by the entrance to the corridor, his sword drawn. Obviously he was supposed to be standing guard while his mate worked on Arllona. But his eyes were on the couple, not on the door. Neither man had a gun.

  As Blade stepped out, the second guard's eyes flickered toward him. The man's head swiveled, his sword rose, his mouth opened to shout-all too late. Blade whirled on one foot and flung the chamber pot lid like a discus. It caught the guard squarely in his gaping mouth. His shout died in a strangled gasp and the sound of shattering bone and teeth. He dropped his sword and clawed at his mouth with both hands. He was still doing that as Blade crossed the chamber in three leaps and delivered a kick to the man's ribs. The smashed jaw sagged open permanently as the man crumpled to the floor.

  Blade snatched the man's sword, then whirled to face the first guard. That gave the man time to drop Arllona and turn around. Blade shifted right, to get between the man and the entrance to the corridor. The guard looked at Blade's size, looked at the sword he was holding, and turned pale. There was only one thing he could still do. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to shout.

  Blade was too far away to grab the man, and the sword was too long for throwing. Arllona lurched to her feet behind the guard and clamped both hands around his throat. His shout died and he dropped his defense to jab backward with both elbows. Arllona doubled up and reeled back against the wall, fighting for breath.

  Blade crossed the chamber before the guard could move again or try another shout. His sword whistled in a flat arc, shearing through the man's neck. Severed head and headless body fell to the floor with separate thuds. Spouting blood made a spreading lake on the floor and drenched Arllona. Fortunately she still hadn't got back the breath to scream.

  Blade pulled her to her feet. He held her against him, tightly enough to calm her and also keep her silent, murmuring reassuring words in her ear.

  Eventually she stopped shaking. Then she stripped off her tunic and pulled on the tunic of the first guard Blade had killed. It nearly reached her knees. Blade pulled on the dead man's trousers which were almost large enough. Each picked up and belted on a sword. Blade pointed toward the corridor. «You lead. I'll follow.»

  Arllona headed down the corridor so fast that Blade had to catch up with her and slow her down with an arm on her shoulder. He didn't blame her for wanting to run. But running would be risky and exhausting. They needed to be quiet and save their strength. They would have to take it slowly, and never mind Arllona's
jumping nerves!

  They moved down the corridor and took the right-hand branch when it divided in two. Both moved with their swords in their hands. Blade could see that Arllona was no swordswoman. She held her weapon in such a manner that she was likely to chop herself in half rather than her opponent, if it came to a fight.

  At first Blade tried to keep track of the endless windings and turnings of their path downward. After a while he gave up. Eventually he even lost track of time, so that he was slightly surprised when they came out in a wide hall. On the far side of the hall was an open arcade, with warm scented winds blowing freely through the arches. Beyond the arches Blade could see the loom of shrubs and small trees, and beyond that the stars in the open sky.

  He put an arm around Arllona and briefly held her close against him. She responded warmly, her lips nuzzling his throat. He would have liked to say something, but the guards in the garden might be within earshot. He gently drew back from her and nodded toward the arcade. This time she followed him as they slipped out into the darkness.

  Blade was sure he could overcome two or even four guards in the roof garden. He hoped that he and Arllona could slip all the way across to the wall undetected in the darkness and the thick foliage, without fighting anybody. If they found him the guards would die, but in dying they might alert comrades who could be waiting, armed and ready, at the bottom of the wall. If men with guns appeared while he or Arllona was dangling helplessly in mid-air, halfway down the wall-