The Jade Warrior

by Jeffrey Lord

  He stood quietly, watching her, until he was sure she was not feigning. He doubted it. His grin was dry and twisted. He must have been quite a shock, coming alive like that, a stranger with a blood-smeared face.

  When he was sure she was not feigning, he ran lightly to the temple door and cautiously peered out. He could see no guards. What need to guard the dead?

  The gardens stretched away dark and silent. A torch sparked here and there. The air was soft and warm and filled with the unidentifiable fragrance. Blade studied it all with the supreme animal sensitivity that had kept him alive so long. He was a shadow among shadows, watching and listening, and saw nothing that spelled danger. He went back to the bier.

  She appeared to have absolute authority, this Empress Mei. That was better than he could have hoped for. Now it was up to him to exploit the situation. Just how this could be done he did not know at the moment. At least he had made a beginning. So far he had made no mistakes - except the cardinal one of getting mixed up with Lord L - and no use worrying about that! His future was uncertain, he must grope for it step by step, and at the moment everything depended on how he handled this woman. And how she reacted to him. Therein, of course, was the rub.

  He had removed the helmet. He ruffled his thick dark hair and rubbed a chin on which black stubble was beginning to sprout. In no time at all he would have a beard. He frowned down at the unconscious woman. He picked up a fold of her body sheath and fingered it. Silk and yet not silk. Velvet. Like flesh itself to the touch.

  Blade watched the even rise and fall of her breasts. He had felt sexual excitement at first sight of her, but now that was gone and he did not know quite what he felt. He frowned again. His first concern was with himself and with the job he must do here in - Cath? That had been the name mentioned by her. A country, a state, a world? All these things, and much more, he must find out.

  The garment did little to conceal her body. She was tall, with a tiny waist and long slim legs. Her skin was the color of ancient ivory. Just that. Not yellow, not white. Old ivory.

  Her eyes fluttered. Blade put his hand gently over her mouth. He had used his tunic to wipe some of the blood from his face, but he supposed he was still a fearsome sight. She was coming awake now. A lot depended on the next few moments.

  The green eyes opened and stared up at him in wonder. Blade bent over her, his hand on her mouth, the other pinning her easily to the altar-bier. He whispered. "You are awake now? You hear me? You understand? Nod if you do."

  Comprehension grew slowly in the eyes so near his. She moved under his hand. Blade tightened his grip just a bit. "I am not going to harm you, Empress Mei. You must understand that. I come as a friend. And I need your help. I must have it. You will listen to me and make no sound?" She stopped struggling and nodded up at him. He eased his grip, yet kept a hand over her soft mouth.

  "My name is Richard Blade. I am a stranger in Cath. An utter stranger without friends and without knowledge of your country. I have nothing but these clothes. I stand in, this armor, and this weapon." He let her see the dagger she had dropped.

  Blade said: "I will serve you, Empress Mei, and be a friend to you. If you will be a friend to me. Will you?"

  She did not nod. The green eyes were wary, waiting,.

  watching the dagger in his hand. He thrust it into his belt.

  "I will take my hand from your mouth now," said Blade, "if you will promise to make no sound. Nod if you agree."

  She nodded.

  He removed his hand from her lips, though keeping a firm grip on her. She rubbed her mouth with slender fingers and widened her eyes at him.

  "Whisper," said Blade. "Keep your voice low." She smiled in derision. "You are indeed a stranger in Cath. No one will dare come here unless I summon. I am the Empress Mei!"

  . Her voice, now that hate had left it, had the same sweet, singsongy, musical effect that Blade had noted in the others.

  The red mouth curled now in disdain. "You have already forfeited your life, stranger, by touching me. But that can wait. I have never seen anyone like you before and I will listen. So speak."

  "You are not afraid of me now?" He watched her carefully. A frightened woman could not be trusted. She shrugged and her flesh was sinuous beneath the scant garment. "I am not afraid of you, stranger. I fainted because I thought Mei Saka had been feigning all along, was not killed in battle, and meant to kill me in this place. I thought it was a trick."

  "Your husband is dead. I took his armor and was brought to this place. I had nowhere else to go and it seemed safe for the time. I cannot explain more than that now. Later I will tell you everything. Now I must have your help - shelter and food and clothing and a manner of life so I will not be suspect and killed."

  The emerald eyes narrowed at him and she said a surprising thing. "The armor suits you. You look more of a man in it than Mei Saka ever did."

  Blade nodded his thanks. "That is kind of you, Empress, but hardly to the point. Will you help me? And trust me in all things - especially trust me when I say that I mean neither you nor Cath any harm?"

  "I will trust you. I will help you. Let me up now, stranger, and never dare to touch me again!"

  She very nearly got away with it. Blade's ears were sharp and yet he had not heard the patrol approach. She had. She sat up and swung her feet off the altar and gave him an odd little smile. It was only because Blade had developed an extra sense in these matters, and because he saw her throat muscles tense, that he caught her in time.

  He lunged for her and covered the scream in time. She pulled away from him, struggling with surprising strength, and drew breath for another scream. Blade had fallen off balance, pinning her to the altar, and he covered this second scream the fastest way he could. With his mouth.

  The moment his lips touched hers she ceased to struggle. She went limp and boneless, her arms dangling, her head to one side and her mouth lax beneath his. Blade, who had only meant to silence her, began to kiss her. He could not stop. Had the patrol actually entered the temple and put lances in his back he could not have stopped.

  At first it was like falling endlessly into a sweet-scented scarlet well. A red moist well that sucked at his own mouth and drew him down and down. He had kissed a thousand women and never any like this. Strangers met and lightning flared.

  For a long time she did not respond. Nor did she evade.

  She let him kiss her and in passivity her own desire grew. She put her arms around him. With their mouths still glued together Blade lifted her back on the altar. Her mouth was coming to life now and her tongue was a demon that enticed. Then no longer did it entice, but attacked. Her sharp little tongue stormed into his mouth, striking and sucking and biting and trying, with real intent, to devour him.

  Blade did not think. He could not and did not want to think. He was engulfed. The cosmos was this pink red moist whorl of mouth beneath his own.

  They did not speak. They did not look at each other. They were two beautiful animals come together, bent on coupling, and there was no love nor tenderness here. Each fought desperately for his own ultimate pleasure.

  She ripped off her garment and flung it away. Blade, without knowing he did it, stripped himself and lowered himself. The enormous brawny man,, hirsute and dark tanned and rippling with muscle, bore her down on the cold stone of the altar-bier and was merciless.

  She made one sound then, the only sound she made during the encounter. She screamed, small and shrill, as he violated her. After that she fought him silently, clinging with her legs and arms, her ivory pelt a part of his own, the sweat of both beginning and mingling and streaming in the crevices of their straining bodies.

  For long minutes they fought, both wanting to end and neither wanting to end. There was no end. No beginning. This was moment of birth and moment of death. This was all there was.

  But there was an end, and it came for both in the same millionth of a second. Silence could no longer be endured and she screamed once and Blade gave a grunting c
ry that was not human and yet had all of humanity in it.

  By then the patrol was at the far end of the gardens and did not hear. It was just as well, for Blade was as helpless as any infant for a few seconds. It was dangerous, what he had just done.

  He was the first to regain his senses. She lay inert and unmoving beneath his weight, and for a moment he thought she did not breathe. Then her breasts moved, slightly, and she opened her eyes and peered up at him and smiled and stroked his face.

  Blade whispered. "You will help me now, Empress Mei?"

  She closed her eyes and smiled again and kept stroking his rough cheek. "I will help you, stranger. And you tell me truth, for you are indeed a stranger. You are like no man of Cath. I swear to that!"

  Blade swung himself off the altar and began to pull on his tunic. The armor he would leave, or hide. It was too small anyway. He picked up her dagger and thrust it into his belt.

  "We had better go then, Empress. At once. This is not a safe place. For me, at least."

  She extended a hand to him and her smile said all there was to say. She was a subdued and contented woman, this Empress Mei, and neither of them thought to question it.

  "We will go, Blade. But you must not worry now. You are safe with me. I rule Cath and my word is law. As your word shall be."

  So, thought Blade, are complex matters made simple. For now. He was a man very aware of time and the snares it puts down every passing second.

  "You will not call me Empress," she said. "Never again call me that."

  He picked up her garment and handed it to her. "What do I call you, then?"

  She thought a moment, then laughed softly. "You will call me Lali. Just that. It was a name my father had for me when I was very young and innocent. He was killed by Mongs when I was only a child and no one has ever called me that since."

  Blade regarded her with affection. Now that the storm was over he felt an odd tenderness for her - and knew he must never drop his vigilance.

  "Lali? All right. But I am not a father."

  She was fastening the sheath of silken cloth about her splendid body. "Indeed you are not! Yet you must call me Lali."

  "I will call you anything you like, but let's get out of this place. Think, Lali! How would you explain me to that patrol if they should come in here?"

  Her aquamarine eyes were shrewd. "How am I going to explain you to anyone? To my people and my wise men and my chiefs? Even to myself. Ah - that is going to require much thinking. And perhaps a few lies. I am very good at lying, Blade."

  "So am I," he said, "and I will help you. But I lie better on a full stomach and after I have had a bath and some sleep. Do we go, Lali, or do I carry you?"

  She touched his face and kissed him lightly. "We go."

  She led him to the far wall of the Temple of Death and pressed against one of the pillars with a finger. The wall slid open without a sound. Beyond was a narrow tunnel, well lighted, sloping downward.

  "Come. This leads to my private apartments. We shall have a bath together, and talk."

  "And eat?" asked Blade hopefully. He was ravenous.

  She brushed her fingers over his flat, hard-muscled stomach. "And eat. And then you will make love to me again."

  Blade could see nothing wrong in that program.

  She led the way. Without turning she said, "You are sure that Mei Saka is dead? My husband? If he is not, everything could be spoiled. I will not give you up now and there would be fighting in Cath, which must not be. We have enough trouble withstanding the Mongs."

  "I cannot be positive," he told her. "I am a stranger. But I took the armor from a body that was very dead indeed. And the searching party thought I was your husband. I think it is certain enough."

  She tripped along lightly before him, He watched the play of muscles in that marvelous body and wondered that this Emperor, this Mei Saka, could have been fool enough to endanger a relationship with her.

  "That is good," said Lali. "My assassin did a good job. It is too bad that I had to have him killed."

  A thought struck Blade. "Suppose that tomorrow, in daylight, your husband's body is found? Even naked someone may recognize him."

  Her trim buttocks flirted before him and the lovely shoulders shrugged.

  "There is no danger. The carrion apes will leave nothing. And I will think of a story to explain why there is no body in the Temple. That will be easy. The difficult thing will be to explain your living body, and why you look as you do. Any fool, with one look, can see that you are not of Cath. But do not worry. I said I would think of a lie and I will."

  Blade somehow thought she would.

  A few minutes later he was in the midst of luxury that staggered him. And Blade had known luxury in his day as well as privation.

  They bathed in a great pool of warm scented water. There was no soap, as Blade knew soap, but rather a fragrant soft powder which they rubbed on their bodies. And each other. Lali scrubbed him intimately and asked that he do the same for her. They talked.

  They were waited on by a score of pretty bare-breasted girls, wearing only what he thought of as a bikini bottom. Lali paid absolutely no attention to the girls except to give orders.

  Blade, when he was in H-Dimension - J and Lord L had come to call it that, Home Dimension - lived in a world of intrigue where no servant could ever be trusted. When he confessed his uneasiness she merely laughed and said: "They will not speak of you. They dare not. All I have to do is snap my fingers and they lose their heads."

  He believed her.

  After they had eaten she took him to a great chamber with a thick circular pad of silken material on the floor. It was her bed. In Cath, she explained, everyone slept on the floor. She thought it strange that he should think it strange.

  They made love again. Then talked. Then made love again. Then talked. By the time the sun shot up with the same blinding suddenness with which it had disappeared - it was going to take Blade a while to get used to that - she had, as she had promised, concocted a marvelous lie. She was very quick, very clever. And at the moment very much subdued and in love with him.

  The servants brought shades to black out the room and as he fell asleep Blade thought that he had done very well indeed so far. He thought of an old American joke. He was living the life of Reilly.

  He just hoped that Reilly didn't come home!

  Chapter Five

  Thuck - Thuck - Thuck - the executioner's sword flamed in sunlight and descended. The heads fell into a ditch and were immediately covered over with loose black earth. The next Mong, who had been waiting patiently, squatting with his hands bound behind him, spat in contempt and moved, into place at the edge of the ditch. Thuck - the head rolled down to join the others, the mouth still contorted in a grimace of defiance.

  These Mongs died well, Blade thought as he watched from a high tower on the great wall. He waited for Lali to join him. They then would mount horses and ride along the top of the wall to inspect the Cath forces and survey the Mong camp out on the plain where the black sand never stopped swirling. Blade had now been three weeks in Cath. Already he was restless, and dared not show it.

  Queko, Chief Captain of the Caths under the Empress Mei, stood beside Blade on the tower. As tall as Blade, but very slim, he had the lemon-colored skin and the handsome straight features that distinguished the Caths. A fine soft fuzz covered his upper lip and chin. Caths had very little facial hair.

  Blade, on the other hand, had by this time a luxuriant black beard which he kept trimmed short.

  Blade had voiced his thought aloud. Queko, who so far had shown neither hostility nor friendliness to Blade, said: "They are savages. Barbarians. They have no imagination and therefore they have no fear. Why shouldn't they die well? They have been taught that they will prevail in the end, so one Mong more or less does not matter. They may be right. There are millions of Mongs. The more we kill the more they come."

  Queko spoke in the high-pitched musical tones of the Caths. His eyes glittered si
deways at Blade.'"Perhaps, Sir Blade, you have by now found a solution to this problem. I hope so, because the Mongs are bleeding us like leeches."

  Blade concealed a smile. J and Lord L would be a little surprised to know that he had promoted himself to a Sir. But it had been necessary. Back in H-Dimension it meant little, here in Cath it was most important.

  He said nothing more. Queko excused himself on plea of military affairs and left him. Blade watched the long lines of captive Mongs, squatting patiently on the plain behind the city, move toward the executioner. Something of a paradox here. The Mongs took no captives. The Caths took them, treated them well, then cut off their heads.

  Blade turned away. He was beginning to feel uneasy. He was also aware that he was not doing his job very well. He was in X-Dimension to explore, investigate, probe. Yet he had been three weeks in the same place.

  The fact was that he was as much a captive as any of the Mongs.

  He descended the tower and stood on the broad roadway atop the wall. Here came his captor now. Lali. She who bound him with chains of silk and flesh.

  She came riding toward him, sitting well in the high wooden saddle. She wore a little peaked cap atop high piled hair, a small corselet of painted wood, and flowing breeches stuffed into tiny boots. Underneath she would be wearing the diaphanous body sheath with which he was now so familiar.

  Lali pulled her horse up and saluted him with her whip. "Good morning, Sir Blade."

  "Good morning, Lali." They exchanged a secret smile. The Sir was Blade's sole contribution to the tremendous lie they were living.

  A horse was brought for Blade and he swung easily into the saddle. "Come, Lali, let's ride down to the cannon."

  They rode together down the wall, past groups of Cath soldiery and officers preparing for the day's fighting. Hearts were touched with fingertips as Lali rode by, and the brawny, bearded Blade was the object of curious stares. It was the same day after day. They did not understand Blade, nor did they question. Lali was an absolute ruler - compared to her Catherine the Great had been a democrat - and if their Empress wanted Blade, who was to question it?