Champions Of The Gods rb-21

by Джеффри Лорд

  «It seems that they prepare a Warriors' Feast,» said Stul. He shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun and scanned the walls. «Yes, it must be that. But how is this so? The Feast for this year is not for another season yet. I must ask what is happening before we bring this gift before Geddo.» He was obviously nervous, and the other Hunters caught that nervousness. They formed a tighter circle around Katerina and increased their pace.

  Just outside the gate they met another warrior with the headdress of an Elder Brother of the Hunt, leading out a band of a dozen Hunters. Instead of spears they carried woven grass baskets and large cutting tools of hard black wood edged with stone chips.

  Stul grinned as he saw the other party approach. «Ha, Kordu! Is it that you and your Hunters now must perform women's work? What have you done to so displease the High Chief?»

  The Elder Brother called Kordu ignored Stul's taunt. «We go to do what must be done that this Feast will lack nothing. This is work for any man who is not too swollen with pride. Far worse to leave anything undone for this Feast.»

  «Then a Warriors' Feast is coming? How so?»

  Kordu grinned. «It is a mighty moment for the Ganthi. Only five times before has a Stranger come into our land and proved worthy of living among us as a warrior. Now it has happened again. And I was first among the Ganthi to meet him.»

  Stul smiled thinly. «What did he do to prove his worthiness? Turn you over his knee and spank you?»

  This time Kordu obviously was keeping a rein on his temper as he replied. «He sprang upon the tail of a three-horns and ran the full length of it with no weapon in his hands. Then he took a spear from its neck and killed it with a thrust in the eye. It was the largest three-horns ever seen by Hunters, and he is the bravest Stranger ever to come among the Ganthi.» Then he noticed Katerina. «What have you there?»

  «A gift for the High Chief,» said Stul. «She is a woman who knows the arts of war. A warrior woman will be a mighty gift for Geddo.»

  Stul was obviously trying to boast of his prize. Just as obviously he was feeling angry and thoroughly frustrated. For a week he had been expecting that everyone in Thessu would stand around and gape in amazement at his prize, cheering wildly as he presented her to Geddo. Now he was home, and everybody was too busy preparing to celebrate the arrival of this mighty stranger to pay any attention to him. Katerina wanted to laugh out loud at Stul's predicament.

  Meanwhile Kordu continued to look her over. «Has she said of what people she comes?» he asked.

  Stul shook his head. «She has said nothing. She has spent much time on the journey cleansing herself in the manner of her people. But it is not a manner that I know of.»

  «That proves nothing, Stul. You are not noted for your wisdom or for your long memory of anything except insults.» Kordu frowned. «I wonder if she is of the same people as the Stranger. He also is much larger than most of the Ganthi. Like this woman he is pale of skin, although his hair is dark. We know little of his customs as yet, but-«

  Shouts and cheers suddenly exploded from behind the walls of Thessu. Kordu broke off, turned, then smiled.

  «I think you shall see the Stranger for yourself in moments, Stul. Such cheers mean that he comes.»

  Stul tried to sneer. «Is he so mighty, or have we grown so weak, that we shout like children when he comes?»

  Kordu shrugged. «Go and also slay a three-horns singlehanded, as this man has done. Then you will find out if we will cheer you as we cheer this-ah, here he is.» Kordu pointed at the gate, where a tall man was striding out into the sunlight. Katerina's eyes followed the pointing finger. Then she stared, and went on staring, while the strength seemed to drain out of her so that she had to fight not to collapse on the ground.

  The man walking out of the gate toward her was Richard Blade, the British secret agent from Lord Leighton's Project. He was thinner, dark with dirt and sunburn, bearded, and dressed as an Elder Brother of the Hunters of the Ganthi. But he was Richard Blade, alive and sane and healthy here among the Ganthi, in this time and this place. He was Richard Blade-or she, Katerina Shumilova, was finally going mad.

  She was not going mad. She still would not go mad. She would live and fight. But she knew there was one thing she would not do now, because there was no sense in it.

  She would not even try to guess where and when she was until she had talked to Blade. She did not know enough and she could not know enough about this world until then.

  Of course, he was a British agent. On Earth he was an enemy, and there would be no sense in asking him what was going on, or expecting him to answer. But here-wherever «here» was-he was the only person who might know what was going on. She was someone who desperately needed help. A minute ago she would have been ashamed to admit that. Now it made no difference whether she admitted it or not. It was true.

  Would Richard Blade see who she was and how badly she needed his help? If he saw, would he help?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Blade's self-control was formidable. It was part of his professional skills, and it never deserted him, no matter where and when he might be, or what he might be facing.

  He still had to fight not to show stunned surprise and bewilderment when he recognized the captive woman with the band of Hunters. Blade had a photographic memory for faces and knew at once who she was. She was the blond computer technician from the Complex, the new one. She was stark naked, and now thin almost to gauntness. Her hair was as tangled as a briar patch and her skin showed dozens of fading bruises and healing scratches. In spite of all this she held herself straight and her blue eyes gazed about her curiously and alertly.

  At least they were curious and alert until they fell on him. Then they widened until they showed white. The woman staggered as if she had been struck and for a moment Blade thought she was going to faint. The two Hunters holding her tightened their grip. That and some miracle of strength and self-control kept the woman on her feet.

  Blade controlled his surprise and started thinking again. He was going to have to do something to take the initiative. If he just stood there much longer trying not to gape like an idiot, other people would notice, wonder, and do the first thing that came to their minds. Blade was sure that would not be good either for him or for the woman. He had to get her away from her captors and under his protection. Anything else could wait. Otherwise she faced a grim future here among the Ganthi.

  In the long run he wanted much more than just getting the woman decent treatment. He needed to talk to her, and that would be impossible unless she was under his protection.

  Here she was in Dimension X, alive, reasonably healthy, apparently perfectly sane and functional. How had she wound up being sent into Dimension X? How had she managed to arrive here safely and survive? Did her being here mean that the problem of finding another person able to travel into Dimension X had at long last been solved? That was an exciting question, enormously important for him, for the Project, for England.

  Besides, this was the second time on this one trip something bizarre had happened. The first time had been winding up here among the dinosaurs and the Ganthi, along with poor Arllona. Now there was this. WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS HAPPENING BACK IN HOME DIMENSION?

  Blade took a deep breath, realizing that he'd nearly shouted that last question out loud. He strode forward until he was face to face with the Elder Brother of the Hunters who had captured the woman.

  «This woman is of my people. I claim her and say that she shall pass to me.»

  «Who are you, Stranger who dresses as a warrior of the Ganthi?» said the Elder Brother. His face and tone were cold. «By what right do you claim her?»

  «My name is Blade. What I have done; you know. I am a warrior of the Ganthi because of it. I may choose a woman who pleases me and who is not claimed by another. This woman is of my people. I claim her.»

  The Elder Brother threw back his head and laughed. It was an unpleasant laugh, and his stinking breath made it even more unpleasant. «I am Stul, wh
o has captured this woman. I-«

  «Have you claimed her?»

  «No, but-«

  «Then it is my right to claim her.» Blade stepped forward, one arm reaching out to the woman. He realized that he was being tactless and abrupt, perhaps too much so. But Elder Brother Stul seemed to be a man on whom tact would be wasted. He also seemed to be a man from whom the woman ought to be rescued as soon as possible.

  Stul reacted faster than Blade had expected. As Blade put a hand on the woman's bare shoulder, Stul lunged forward. As he lunged he snatched his club from his belt and swung. Blade jerked his arm back just in time. The descending club grazed his knuckles. Then he pivoted, clenching both hands into fists as he did. One fist crashed into Stul's jaw. The other plunged into the man's stomach. Stul sat down in mid-air, then collapsed on the ground, spitting out blood and loose teeth and holding his stomach. For the first time since they'd met the woman took her eyes off Blade, and stared down at Stul. Blade thought he saw her smile faintly. He reached to take her by the hand.

  «Behind you, Blade!» screamed Kordu. Blade whirled, ducking as he turned. A spear cut through the air where he had been and skittered along the hard ground. The Hunter who'd thrown it backed away at the expression on Blade's face.

  A second Hunter was either braver or less intelligent. He stood his ground and raised both spears, one held ready to throw, the other to thrust. It was Blade's turn to back away, until he could reach out to Kordu.

  «Your tool, my friend.»

  Kordu looked bewildered, but handed Blade the long, stone-edged wooden tool. Blade gripped it in his right hand, raised it, and charged at the other Hunter.

  Blade was on the man in the time between one blink of an eye and the next. The tool whistled down. The Hunter's thrusting spear rose to block it. Iron point and iron-hard wood met with a clanging crash. Blade let the impact jar the tool out of his hand. He had never needed it for more than the feint.

  The tool was still in the air when Blade shifted to his real attack. He swung to the left, clamping both hands on the shaft of the Hunter's other spear. He jerked hard on the spear, dropped into a crouch, and kicked hard upward with his right foot. The Hunter was pulled forward at precisely the right moment. Blade's heel smashed up into his jaw. Blade picked up the spear as the man's hands relaxed their grip, and he rose to his feet as the man sprawled facedown on the ground. The other Hunters of Stul's party took one good look at Blade, then dashed away toward the gate of the town.

  Blade looked around. Apparently he'd made the right impression. Few of the onlookers seemed sullen or dubious. A good many warriors and most of the free workers and women were beating their hands on their thighs and stamping their feet. Among the Ganthi that was the equivalent of enthusiastic applause.

  Blade now stepped up to the woman, took her by one hand, and put his other arm around her shoulders. Quietly, so that no one else could hear him clearly, he shifted into English.

  «What is your name?»

  The woman's lips quivered for a moment. «Ka-Catherine.»

  «How did you come here? Tell me quickly.»

  «I-they-«Relief at her rescue seemed to be making it impossible for her to speak clearly.

  «All right, then. You can tell me later. But I must know. I am sure you can see-«

  Someone coughed politely behind Blade. He turned to see Kordu standing there. The man looked as nervous as a fighting man of the Ganthi could let himself do in public.

  «Blade, you must know that you have made trouble for yourself.»

  Blade grinned. «With Stul? No doubt. But I doubt if that man could ever be my friend. I have met many like him. I do not think he will be a very dangerous enemy, though. Nor do I think many will take his side, among the Ganthi.»

  Kordu laughed. «You see clearly, Blade. No, Stul is not a friend to many. He is a strong warrior, but he thinks he is three times stronger yet. Stul is not your problem, though. Your problem will be Geddo, the High Chief.»

  «How will that be?»

  «Stul was going to present the woman you have claimed to Geddo. He hoped to gain much favor by this. He was right. Geddo likes strange, strong woman. He likes even more teaching them how to be weak. He liked teaching them so much that not all of them survive his lessons.»

  «I see that Geddo would hardly be a better friend than Stul. What will he do to me if he thinks I am an enemy?»

  «He will fight you, Blade. To the death.»

  «Whose death?»

  «Blade, I ask you-be wise. Geddo is a giant, larger even than you. No man-no two men-have ever defeated him in a fight. You have shamed him, for you have tried to take from him the great pleasure of teaching this woman.»

  «Kordu, do not arrange for my burial rites until I am actually dead. Otherwise-is there anything I must do or say before the fight with Geddo?»

  Kordu looked toward the gate of Thessu. «No. I think he will be coming out here to kill you as soon as he hears of what you have done.»

  «Good.» Blade picked up a second spear and drove both spears point-down in the ground. «I shall wait here for him. If he is a giant, he will be easy to see coming a long way off. Nor would I insult the High Chief of all the Ganthi by making him run after me.»

  He gently pushed Catherine forward, toward Kordu. «I ask that you protect my woman until the fight it over. If Geddo wins, obey the laws of the Ganthi. If I win, I shall claim her again, and there will be no more talk.»

  «It shall be as you wish,» said Kordu. He put a surprisingly gentle arm around Catherine and led her aside. Blade squatted down between his two spears, eyes on the gate, and waited.

  He had told Kordu one small lie. If by some chance he wound up losing to Geddo, he would not let the laws of the Ganthi take their course with Catherine. He would use the last of his strength to give her a quick, merciful death.

  Blade waited quietly. As the minutes passed, the crowd around him grew thicker, as word spread of what was about to happen. His duel with Geddo might not be formal, but it would certainly be well-attended.

  A few minutes more, and Stul groaned, spat out a few more loose teeth, and sat up. His face was a mask of blazing rage as he stared at Blade.

  «Geddo will be coming soon, Blade. Then I shall have the pleasure of watching him kill you the way he kills those who are his mortal enemies. They die very slowly, Blade.»

  «You are more likely to see Geddo die, Stul. I do not promise that will be a pleasure, though.»

  Stul managed to sneer. «You talk, and that is all. Geddo may be angry enough to cut off your manhood and let you live to watch him teach your woman.»

  «Stul, you also talk. You talk too much and too loudly. Must I knock the rest of your teeth out of your mouth before you shut it?» He reached for one of his spears. Stul had a sudden attack of common sense and fell silent.

  Time dragged. The air became thick with heat, dust, insects, and the smells of the growing crowd. Someone got a bucket of water and poured it over Stul. Someone else got two buckets for Blade. He poured one over himself, drank part of the other, and gave the rest to Catherine.

  Catherine was just starting to drink when a bellow like an angry bull's sounded from inside the town walls. A thousand pairs of eyes swung toward the gate. Blade saw Kordu turn as pale as one of the Ganthi could, and he rose slowly to his feet. He reached out and picked up his two spears.

  «That is Geddo?»

  Kordu nodded and pulled Catherine away. They joined the crowd as it drew back from around Blade, until he was standing in the middle of a clear circle nearly a hundred feet across. Blade walked slowly back and forth across the circle, testing the footing at each step. Good. He would have solid, level ground under him, and plenty of room. Now all he needed was his opponent.

  The bull's roar sounded again, closer this time. The warriors on the wall and at the gate raised their spears and bowed their heads. Then the crowd between Blade and the gate started breaking apart. Above the crowd Blade could see an enormous bald hea
d, crowned by an even more enormous mass of feathers, moving toward him.

  Geddo and the dozen warriors escorting him pushed their way through the crowd, into the open circle. The warriors spaced themselves around the circle, waving their spears to urge the crowd back even farther. Geddo stepped forward and glowered at Blade.

  Not many men in any Dimension could glower down at Blade, but Geddo was easily one. Kordu had not exaggerated. The High Chief of the Ganthi was nearly seven feet tall and must have weighed close to three hundred pounds. Very little of that mass was fat. Geddo looked large enough and powerful enough to pick up two normal Ganthi warriors, one in each hand, and crack their heads together like a couple of dolls. If it came to a close-in grapple and those gorilla-sized arms closed around Blade, he was going to have trouble getting clear. He swung his spears off his shoulder and moved toward Geddo with one in each hand.

  «Ho, Geddo, teacher of women!» he called. «Are you ready to learn as well as teach?»

  «No one will learn from you,» said Geddo. «No, that is not quite true. They will learn from you how I slay those who have insulted me and taken my women.»

  «They will not learn that if you throw at me nothing but insults,» said Blade. «Come, Geddo. The sun is hot, and the people do not want to stand around all day to see you die.»

  Geddo's head jerked in acknowledgment. A rippling sound of anticipation-sighs, gasps, whispers, a few prayers-went through the crowd. Blade turned toward Catherine, raised both spears in salute until he was sure he'd caught her eye, then turned back to Geddo.

  He turned just in time. Geddo was in too much of a hurry to care about ritual or custom. The High Chief charged straight in, both spears raised and held ready for a thrust with either hand.

  Blade stood his ground. The crowd would promptly turn against him if he showed what he considered common sense and what they considered cowardice. That meant sacrificing whatever edge he might have in speed and footwork, but there was no helping it.