by Джеффри Лорд
Blade thanked his keepers so generously that the girls started to giggle, and the hunters glared at them. Until he'd survived his cleansing and been examined by the Wise One he was taboo for the women of the Rutari. The girls were willing to flirt, but they weren't willing to do anything that might lead to their facing the Great Hunters.
Despite the quantities of food served him, Blade ate lightly and made Cheeky do the same. Both of them would need all the speed they had against a creature that could probably rip Blade limb from limb without even breathing hard. Blade could no longer eat, drink, and make love all night and then go out to face half a dozen opponents quite as easily as he had when he was fresh out of Oxford. His travels in many countries and Dimensions had left their mark.
It was a clear, brisk morning. Blade, Cheeky, and his escort tramped swiftly down the valley to the sacred field at the bottom. The hills around the field made it a natural theater for the day's performance, and Blade quickly saw there was going to be no shortage of spectators. What looked like half the Rutari people were busily finding themselves places on the hillsides. Most of them carried skins or furs to sit on and leather bottles or hollowed-out gourds of beer. Some carried baskets of food. The general atmosphere seemed more like a holiday than a solemn religious occasion.
It struck Blade that the more the people drank, the more festive they'd feel and the more they'd appreciate a good show. He and Cheeky would do their best; having the crowd on his side might save his life.
The pit of the cleansing itself was about a hundred yards across, steep sided but with a level floor covered with short wiry grass and patches of gravel. On one side gaped the black maw of a cave; Blade caught the familiar carrion reek of a Great Hunters' den. In the middle of the pit stood a black stone pyramid with a ledge carved on one side. Even from a distance Blade could make out the ancient bloodstains on the stone. Beside the pyramid, steam rose from the mouth of another of the valley's numerous hot springs. If it was as hot as all the rest Blade had encountered, it would be more than hot enough for his purposes.
A drum began to thud slowly from somewhere up the valley, and the festive atmosphere quickly cooled. A few latecomers scurried in, while mothers and older daughters rounded up straying toddlers and shushed them to an uneasy silence. Then a short procession wound its way into sight around the flank of the next hill up the valley.
First marched six warriors wearing loinguards and carrying spears. They were led by Teindo. Next came four more warriors, carrying Awgal on a litter piled with moss and leaves. His head had been shaved and painted green. From his blank stare, it looked to Blade as if he was either drugged or scared out of his wits.
Then came the Wise One herself and a young woman- a very good-looking one, Blade couldn't help noticing. She seemed to be a sort of assistant or acolyte to the Wise One, carrying Moyla in a bag on her chest and a sack full of gourds, sprigs of herbs, and other magical gear on her back. Six more warriors, all naked, brought up the rear of the procession.
As they marched down into the pit and up to the pyramid, Teindo, as first among the Blue Hunters, was called on to pass Awgal into the hands of those who had the true knowledge of cleansing. First among these was the Wise One of the Rutari, who had a long list of other titles as well, though Blade had never heard her personal name mentioned. No doubt the Wise One had enemies so potent that it was unsafe to let her true name be known. Tiendo struck the pyramid three times with the feathered butt of his spear. Then he turned to the Wise One and delivered a short ritual speech:
«Let the Wise One perform the cleansing of Awgal. I call on the Spirits to witness, that I, Teindo Blue Hunter, have done my duty.» The Wise One made three passes over Teindo's head with her carved staff of office. Then she laid some herbs on the ground and set them on fire, and Teindo leaped three times through the smoke. Finally he led the other warriors up out of the pit to join the guards around Blade.
Through all of this Awgal sat on the litter, gazing vacantly into space. Now the Wise One approached him, straddled him, and seemed to give him another telepathic message. He slowly rose from the litter, moving like a disjointed puppet, and stumbled to the pyramid. With a little help from the two women, he lay down on the ledge.
Now both women took off their skirts and stood naked at the base of the pyramid. The Wise One poured something from a gourd into a clay cup, and the acolyte handed it to Awgal. Obedient as a child, he emptied the cup. From the sighs and whispers around him, Blade guessed his cooperation was a good omen.
After a minute or two Awgal began to stir-at least in one part of his body. The potion in the cup was obviously a potent aphrodisiac. The acolyte waited until Awgal reached the appropriate state of arousal, then positioned herself and slid down into place.
Awgal's face remained stonelike as the young woman rode him to one climax after another. The acolyte's face was more expressive. She might be doing this as a religious duty, but she was also having one hell of a good time doing it! Time after time her body twisted and convulsed, her head thrown back so far that her fine breasts with their erect nipples were pointed at the sky and her long black hair practically brushed Awgal's feet. In spite of the chilly morning, sweat was pouring off her, and after a while she could no longer be silent. Her sobs and groans floated out over the valley.
Blade would have been more interested if he hadn't remembered what was going to happen to Awgal as soon as the acolyte got through with him. This didn't bother some of the people around Blade; there was a good deal of public fondling going on-very public, considering how little everyone was wearing. One or two couples were actually down on the ground.
Under the influence of the aphrodisiac, Awgal's endurance exceeded the young woman's. At last she rolled off him, crawling down the pyramid on hands and knees, groaning with exhaustion and unable to stand. Again sighs and moans indicated this was a good omen.
Now it was the Wise One's turn. She knelt over Awgal and performed fellatio on him for a while. Then she took her acolyte's place and rode Awgal until she'd climaxed three times. The last time, Awgal's face showed that he was feeling everything too. When the Wise One let out a final cry of release, Awgal groaned happily. That seemed to be still another good omen, although by now the sighs of good omens were a little hard to tell from the sighs of pleasure and passion.
If this was supposed to be a cleansing, Blade decided, it was certainly thorough in at least one area. Awgal wouldn't have a sexual thought for a week, if by some chance he lived that long.
In fact, he had no more than a couple of minutes left. The mood of the crowd changed abruptly as a bellowing scream from a Great Hunter echoed from the cave. Four warriors emerged from the shadows, leading one of the beasts and controlling it with knob-headed staves. It was a small Great Hunter, no more than seven feet tall, but Blade had no doubt it could do the job. He firmly told his stomach to sit tight and prepared to watch Awgal's end.
After all the long preliminaries, Awgal died mercifully fast. The two naked women had barely time to scramble up on to the top of the pyramid before the hunters released their charge. The Wise One frantically snatched open a gourd and poured its contents over herself and her acolyte as the beast charged toward them. It leaped halfway up the pyramid without breaking stride, then recoiled from the two women as if it had run straight into a brick wall. Blade caught a whiff of what the Wise One had poured out and didn't blame the beast; he would have recoiled from any food or female smelling like that!
The Great Hunter slid back down to the ground, roaring in rage and frustration as it lost its balance. It was up again in a moment, sniffing around. A long sigh went through the crowd as the beast scented Awgal and turned toward him.
Then one clawed hand came down like a butcher's cleaver, tearing Awgal open from ribcage to groin. No drugs could dull that kind of pain; he gave a horrible bubbling scream and sprayed blood all over his killer. Then the Great Hunter picked him up like a torn-apart rag doll and smashed his skull against the sto
ne hard enough for Blade to hear the crack that put Awgal past feeling any more pain.
The Wise One shouted something and waved her staff; so did the four warriors. The Great Hunter grunted several times, then grabbed Awgal again. Apparently the rite called for the victim to be devoured in public, instead of carried off to the cave. As hunger won out over whatever else the creature was feeling, it tore off one of Awgal's legs and started gnawing on it.
The rest of the feast was just as gruesome as the killing. By the time Awgal was reduced to a pile of bloody fragments, Blade was glad he'd ordered his stomach to be quiet. The only consolations were that the Great Hunters apparently killed fast, and that at the sight and smell of Awgal's death, Cheeky hadn't lost his nerve to follow through with their plan.
Blade did allow himself one small hope. It would be nice if the Rutari cleaned up what was left of Awgal before putting him into the pit!
Chapter 6
The warriors led Awgal's killer back into the cave. Apparently each candidate for cleansing got a fresh beast. Blade would have been happier to fight Awgal's killer, not so much for vengeance but because a Great Hunter slowed down by a heavy meal would be less formidable. Also, he'd rather face a seven-footer than a nine-footer-its reach would be shorter. Little details-but Blade could hardly remember a time wren he hadn't been aware of them and used them in his plans as naturally as he breathed. Being an essentially practical man, he didn't spend much time wondering why this was so; he was alive and healthy because of the habit, and that was enough for him.
Under the Wise One's supervision, a dozen men and women cleaned the pyramid with buckets of water drawn from the hot spring. By the time they'd finished, the whole pit was filled with steam and smelled of sulphur and the herbs the Wise One threw out in handfuls while the others worked. Then the Wise One raised her staff and pointed toward Blade.
Blade rose, and Cheeky jumped up on his shoulder without needing a signal. Blade grinned and sent a picture of him and Cheeky standing beside the corpse of a Great Hunter. This was the first real life-or-death battle he and Cheeky had fought as a team; he hoped it would also be the first of many victories. The sensation of not having everything depend on his own strength; speed, and wits was odd but agreeable.
At the rim of the pit, Blade was solemnly inspected by the warriors for signs of any clothing or weapons not allowed by the rules. They practically ignored Cheeky, and completely ignored the feather-monkey's plastic harness. Blade heard one say, «If he wants his good-luck pet with him… «but nothing else.
Blade went down into the pit so quickly that the guards had to scramble to keep up with him. One of them lost his footing on the slope and slid the rest of the way down on his rump. Murmurs of approval for Blade's confidence mingled with laughter at the guard. A good start, Blade thought.
The Wise One called Blade to the foot of the pyramid and asked him a series of ritual questions, waving her staff and throwing handfuls of herbs about while she did. Blade answered the questions as quickly as he could without seeming disrespectful. As long as he had to look at the Wise One, he couldn't study the floor of the pit and check the footing it offered him.
However, there was always Cheeky, who would know what to look for. If Blade could just send him a brief mental message-very brief-without the Wise One «hearing»… Well, why not try it once?
Blade sent-Cheeky a picture of him jumping down and running around, poking at the gravel and grass, picking up stones and pulling up tufts. Cheeky yeeeped and obeyed the implied order. The Wise One's staff and herb throwing never missed a beat.
Cheeky couldn't have been more thorough if he'd been searching the pit for jewels. He even threw a handful of pebbles into the hot spring to see what would happen. A cloud of steam gushed up, and he jumped back, squeaking indignantly.
At last he finished his inspection, and the Wise One was still asking Blade questions. Was she trying to trip him up in public, make him say something ill-omened so that he would have to be «cleansed» like Awgal? Blade hoped not. He might fight his way out, but he'd have little chance of saving Cheeky. That meant he wasn't going to get out of here at all if the Wise One wanted his blood. He would never leave Cheeky; they were going to live or die together.
Even if the Wise One didn't want his blood, this interrogation was buggering up his survival chances. As long as it went on, Cheeky couldn't report what he'd learned. The Wise One would notice Blade's attention wandering elsewhere, then ask why.
In fact, Blade realized that he couldn't even see Cheeky anymore. He couldn't imagine the feather-monkey running off in fright, but if the Wise One suddenly decided his presence here was against the law and custom…
Then a small feather-crested head appeared over the top of the pyramid, between the Wise One's feet. Blade forced himself to go on talking, but also got ready to move fast. Now Cheeky was up on top of the pyramid, and the Wise One still hadn't noticed him. If anyone else saw him they didn't seem ready to warn her.
Then Cheeky leaped forward. Someone shouted, someone else cursed, but both were too late. Cheeky leaped up-and tweaked the Wise One's pubic hair.
The Wise One let out a shriek and clapped her hands to her groin. This left her completely defenseless against Cheeky, who swarmed up her body as if it were a tree. He planted his hind feet on her breasts, gripped both shoulders with his forepaws-and kissed her on the nose.
For a moment Blade was surrounded by the awesome silence of a thousand people all holding their breaths. He hardly breathed himself, and didn't dare move anything except one hand, in a signal to Cheeky to come back down and join him.
Then the silence fell apart as the thousand people dissolved in laughter. Blade let out his breath in a long whoooosssh. The little bastard had certainly been gambling for high stakes! If the Rutari had taken his antics as a breaking of taboos…
But they hadn't. They'd taken it as a good joke on the Wise One. Her own pride should keep her from ordering Blade killed or sacrificed now. Of course, she might have a few notions about what to do some other day, but Blade believed in living through each day as it came.
Cheeky responded to Blade's mental message, leaping down and hurrying back to his master's shoulder. He left the Wise One to recover her staff and as much of her dignity as she could manage. By the time the laughter died, she'd succeeded, and her acolyte had joined her on top of the pyramid.
Cheeky took advantage of the Wise One's distraction and reported his findings to Blade. The water in the hot spring was more than hot enough. The stones of the gravel were too smooth and fine to hurt Cheeky's paws. The footing was solid. Blade could not be slowed down-but neither would the Great Hunter.
Blade did not much care for the look in the Wise One's eyes as he turned his back on her to face the mouth of the cave. The acolyte, on the other hand-well, if she was still looking at him that way after the cleansing, he might take her up on the offer. He'd be in better shape to enjoy it than Awgal!
Blade's Great Hunter burst out of the cave at a dead run, spraying gravel as it came, its deep-set eyes fixed on Blade. The creature was closing in, and there was no time for analyzing anything. Cheeky jumped down from Blade's shoulder and ran one way. Blade ran the other. Blade was silent, while Cheeky made as much noise as he could. From what he'd overhead among the hunters, Blade knew the Great Hunters traced their prey mostly by sound and scent, not relying much on their poor eyesight. Cheeky was a lot smaller than Blade, but he could make as much noise, or more.
Blade's guess was the right one. The Great Hunter swerved after Cheeky, bending low and reaching forward. It seemed to realize vaguely that its prey was smaller than usual. As the clawed hands opened to scoop up Cheeky, the feather-monkey reversed course and dashed between the Great Hunger's legs. He got clean away, and for a moment the beast was off balance, its back turned to Blade.
Blade came up behind it in a leaping side-kick, driving his left foot into the small of its back. The foot had all of Blade's speed and two hundred and te
n pounds behind it. Any human being's spine would have snapped like a matchstick. But the Great Hunter only staggered, then straightened up with an indignant grunt.
Blade felt as if he'd kicked a tree. He was reasonably sure he hadn't broken his foot. He wasn't sure he hadn't bruised it so badly it would swell up before the fight was over and slow him down.
For a moment, though, Blade still had all his speed. As the Great Hunter lurched around to face him, he chopped hard at the nearest wrist. Damaging one of the creature's hands couldn't hurt. Indeed, it couldn't hurt the Great Hunter: Blade had the feeling that he'd tried to chop through an iron bar.
In return, the Great Hunter lashed out with its other hand in a casual gesture, apparently intending to shoo Blade away like a fly rather than to inflict injury. The blow sent Blade flying over backward. If he hadn't known how to fall, he might have landed hard and stayed down until the Great Hunter finished him off. As it was, he landed rolling, made a complete somersault, and came up facing his opponent more or less in one piece. He was fairly sure his ribs weren't broken. He did suspect torn muscles and was sure of torn skin. Three parallel gashes were bleeding freely.
He'd better use his speed to stay out of the Great Hunter's reach for a while. Otherwise there were going to be more bleeding gashes in his skin, and not such neat ones either. He sent this message to Cheeky as well. He suspected that Cheeky would have much less trouble evading than he would. The feather-monkey could practically turn around in his own length, and he was much harder to detect as long as he kept quiet.
The crowd was now silent, their laughter at the Wise One's embarrassment long past. The sight of a man pitted against one of the Great Hunters with nothing but his own strength and wits and perhaps his pet to aid him was nothing to laugh at. The Wise One and her acolyte stood on top of the pyramid, their long hair now lifting to a slight breeze, their faces unreadable. Blade hoped that whatever the Wise One was thinking, she would stop short of giving the Great Hunter telepathic coaching on the fight. Then he and Cheeky settled down to their dance of death with the beast.