Warlords Of Gaikon rb-18

by Джеффри Лорд

  Blade nodded. «Who decided this? Captain Jawai?»

  The girl looked unmistakably startled. «Oh no, that could not be. It was the decision of the Honorable Instructor Yezjaro.»

  Blade nodded again. He understood or at least thought he understood more than he was probably supposed to. If Yezjaro was giving orders for punishing Captain Jawai's servants-that meant the captain was out of circulation, at least for tonight. With Yezjaro in charge, it was less likely that Blade would have to worry about a knife stuck into him in the darkness. That was a considerable relief.

  The girl was young, but her body had unmistakably matured. Graceful curves were evident under the pink robe. And she gave off a subtle but undeniably appealing and arousing perfume. Blade suspected he knew the «service» she was supposed to render. Well, why not? He doubted if the dabuni were supposed to be ascetics. He certainly wasn't!

  He remained standing, returning the girl's look, until she gave a little giggle and looked down at the floor. Without looking up, she undid the blue sash at her waist. The robe fell open. Then she shrugged slim shoulders, and the robe fell whispering to the floor and lay in a pink pool at her feet.

  Like her perfume, the girl's beauty was subtle but arousing. All the curves were as delicate as if they had been drawn by a master artist with a very fine brush. In the dim light Blade could make out the faint sheen of shoulders and hips, the lift of small, pointed breasts with the nipples faint smudges at their tips, a small black strip almost perfectly centered between slim thighs. The girl threw her head back, until her black hair flowed down almost to the small of her back, and thrust her hips forward.

  Yes, undeniably arousing. Blade couldn't have denied the arousal if he had wanted to. His massive member jutted forward, swollen, solid, sending urgent demands tip to his brain. He responded to those demands. He stepped forward, lowered his massive hands until he could cup the girl's firm buttocks, and lifted her. Her eyes and mouth flared open as Blade drove upward between her legs, into her wet channel. Then she closed her eyes and stretched out her arms to grab Blade by the shoulders. Her legs twined around Blade's hips, locking her into place as she began to rock back and forth with Blade inside her.

  She was not only wet but fantastically snug. After what seemed like only seconds Blade knew that she was going to push him over the edge soon. Too soon? He didn't know. He didn't know anything except that he needed and wanted to hold against the glorious agony that was boiling up in his groin and threatening to boil over. He didn't know anything, didn't care about anything, couldn't have paid attention to anything else if his life had depended on it. The girl was light, but his breath was coming in great sobbing gasps, and she seemed to be threatening to tear his aching arms out of their sockets as she twisted her hips around and around and around-

  Suddenly she pressed down, locking herself so tightly around Blade that he felt as though the breath was being squeezed out of his body. But it was her breath that came out in a great shuddering gasping groan as she heaved herself up and down in a final desperate effort.

  The girl's efforts put an end to Blade's self-control. His own hips twisted and turned as he felt his own heat spurting savagely upward into the girl, going on and on and on. There had been a terrible heat in him, and it took a long time for it all to be released.

  But finally he was empty, and he lifted the half-conscious girl in his arms and laid her down on his sleeping pad. Then he lay down beside her and pulled the quilt over both of them.

  As he finally drifted off to a deep sleep, Blade couldn't help running his mind back over his first day in Gaikon. A dangerous world, yes. But he suspected it would be a strangely exciting one as well.

  Chapter 7

  Eight hours of sound sleep later, Blade awoke feeling ready to face whatever the land of Gaikon might throw at him. But it was another hour before a heavy-eyed Yezjaro appeared. Judging from the circles under his eyes and the look of satisfaction on his face, the instructor had spent most of the night in bed but not much of it sleeping.

  There was no sign of Captain Jawai, and Blade decided not to ask about him. One of the house dabuni supervised the serving of breakfast, but his face was as expressionless as one of the mats on the floor.

  After swallowing down the last of his soup and porridge, Yezjaro stood up, stretched, and looked down at Blade.

  «There is no reason for us to delay our departure any more-brother. And there is also no reason for me not to call you by your war name. Have you one?»

  «My name is Blade.»

  «Is that your war name or your house name?»

  «In my homeland warriors have only a war name. It is a symbol of our dedication to war.»

  «A very great dedication indeed. But I am not surprised. Your warriors must be exceptionally devoted to developing their skills, if you are typical of them. Although you seem to emphasize speed more than precision, if your style is typical of your homeland.»

  «It is one style. We have many.»

  «As it is with us. We will have much to teach each other, I suspect. But after we reach the castle of Lord Tsekuin and you are sworn into his service.» He began tying his sash and pulling on his sandals. «I have horses and traveling supplies ready for both of us, and my retainers are already mounted.»

  Blade decided to ask, «Are we going to say farewell to Captain Jawai? He was our host, after all, and-«

  «The thought does you honor, Blade,» said Yezjaro, with a faint smile. «But under the circumstances that ceremony would serve no purpose.»

  The party included six mounted retainers, one of them carrying a banner, and four pack horses. The rain had stopped by the time they rode out, and the sun was emerging from behind clouds. But a strong wind blew down a continuous spatter of drops as they rode on to the narrow path through the forest. Blade was raising a hand to wipe the water off his face when Yezjaro suddenly called out, «Stop!» and pointed off to the left.

  «Blade, you were asking about Captain Jawai, I believe?»

  Blade followed Yezjaro's outstretched arm, to a small clearing at the top of the slope beside the trail. On top of a thick pole sat the severed head of Captain Jawai. A little crust of dried blood had already covered the upper foot or two of the pole. The captain's bony features were set in a mask of grisly agony, and a few eager flies had already clustered around the staring eyes.

  Blade urged his horse forward until he was alongside Yezjaro and spoke in a low voice so that only the instructor could hear. «Did you have it in mind for things to come out this way?» He jerked a thumb at the impaled head.

  Yezjaro threw Blade the unmistakable look of a man not sure whether he should answer a question or not. But after a moment he replied in an equally soft voice, «Yes, I was hoping for it.»

  «May I ask why?»

  «Quite simple. For many reasons the late Captain Jawai was unsuited for the post he held, particularly-«He broke off, hesitated, then began again. «He was unfit to protect the mines of Lord Tsekiun. But he would not resign. To have him dismissed or challenged and slain by one in Lord Tsekuin's service risked starting a feud within the ranks of the lord's own dabuni. This no wise man wished. It would give the Hongshu a great opportunity. But when I heard that a stranger who appeared warlike had come among us and already incurred the enmity of Jawai, I saw a clear path ahead.»

  Blade nodded. «Yes.» His voice was deliberately cool. «If I slew Jawai or disgraced him so that he had to kill himself-«

  «As he did.»

  «I thought so. If that happened, you would be rid of Jawai. And if he slew me, at least there would be none of my family or sworn friends determined to avenge me and disrupt the peace of Lord Tsekuin's household. A wise plan, if you have such great need of peace.»

  Yezjaro let the implied question pass him by. Instead he said, «You see clearly, Blade.»

  «When it is a question of my life or my honor, Yezjaro, I can see very far and listen very well. I ask you not to forget that.»

  Yezjar
o nodded slowly. «I think I will take your advice, Blade.» The party moved on down the trail.

  It was a journey of three full days and part of a fourth to Lord Tsekuin's castle. It was a slow and tedious journey, most of it over trails that were always winding and sometimes steep and narrow. But the small, shaggy horses of Gaikon seemed to be nearly as tough and sure-footed as mountain goats. There were no accidents, not even when they had to lead the horses one at a time across a rope-and-plank bridge swaying dizzily a hundred feet above a mist-filled gorge.

  During those days Blade learned a great deal about life in Gaikon. Much of the knowledge was essential, however many strange words it might contain. Some of it was unnecessary; Blade suspected Yezjaro of showing off his learning and boasting of his native land's virtues. That was a harmless and nearly universal game. Blade didn't say a word against it, not even when Yezjaro spent three hours reciting the epic poem of the Seven Dabuni.

  But some of what Blade needed to know he had to pry out of Yezjaro like a pearl out of an oyster. There were a good many subjects about which the instructor remained as mute as a temple image.

  In the land of Gaikon, one man reigned-the Emperor. Another man ruled-the Hongshu or Most Exalted Warlord. The country was divided into the Emperor's precincts, a number of cities directly under the Hongshu or the chancellors of his household, and the fiefs of a large number of greater or lesser warlords like Lord Tsekuin.

  The members of the ruling families and households were something of a class apart, as were the warlords themselves. The rest of the people of Gaikon were divided into three broad categories: the warriors or dabuni, the merchants (who included the artisans), and the peasants. Blade was hardly surprised to learn that the dabuni considered themselves the source of all honor, virtue, and prowess in Gaikon, and that they despised and even abused the merchants and peasants. They were indeed like too many other warrior castes that Blade had met in too many other dimensions. But while he was in Gaikon, it was live by their rules or face a good chance of not living at all. And that meant learning as much as possible, whether Yezjaro told him willingly or not.

  There was the time Yezjaro mentioned that the Most Exalted Warlord had the additional title of «Strong Younger Brother.»

  «How is that?» said Blade.

  «In the tales of Kunkoi, the Sun Goddess, it is said she bore two sons, a year apart. The elder was terrible in his wisdom and magical powers, so he became the ancestor of our Emperors. The younger was far less wise, but he was the mightiest warrior since the beginning of time. He protected his brother's rule faithfully, and it is from him that the Hongshus claim their descent.»

  «I see,» said Blade. Then he threw out a deliberately vague question. «This means, I take it, that the Hongshu is patron and master to the warlords of Gaikon?»

  «Sometimes,» said Yezjaro shortly.

  «How can it be otherwise?» said Blade, trying to sound naive.

  «It depends very much on the warlord,» said Yezjaro. «Also on how honorable the Hongshu is. If a warlord has something the Hongshu covets-«

  «I see,» said Blade again. After a moment's remembering what he had heard at other times from the instructor, he thought he did see. «The Lord Tsekuin goes in some fear of inspiring the intervention of the Hongshu, doesn't he?»

  «Perhaps.» To Blade's trained ear, that short one-word reply was almost a shouted «Yes.» He was silent for a moment, to give Yezjaro the impression that he had given up his questioning. Then:

  «Does the Hongshu's interest in the affairs of Lord Tsekuin have something to do with mines? Possibly those mines that the late Honorable Captain Jawai was not fit to guard?»

  Yezjaro said nothing. He didn't need to. The startled look on his face and then the quick masking of his expression told Blade more than enough.

  There was another time when Blade and Yezjaro were sipping hot saya wine in the back room of a small tavern. They were discussing keeping the peace in the frequently turbulent and unruly families of the warlords.

  «Often enough, it is decided to train the younger sons as scholars or send them into the service of Kunkoi,» said the instructor. «Our own Lord Tsekuin was destined for a scholar's career. But Kunkoi's will was otherwise.»

  «How so?»

  «The eldest son and heir died of a fever. So our Honorable Lord was called to put away his scrolls and brushes and his Hu board and take up steel.»

  «How well did he make the change?» asked Blade. He held out the flask of hot saya. The instructor practically snatched it from Blade's hand, poured his cup full, and drained it at a gulp. Then he leaned back, shaking his head slowly.

  «Not as well as-«He broke off and shot a hard look at Blade. «He is young yet, and has much to learn. He will learn it, I am sure.»

  Blade sensed that Yezjaro's suspicions might be aroused if he pushed any farther. But he also sensed he might be on the brink of learning something important.

  So he gambled. «You're a strange one to call a warlord 'young,'» said Blade. He managed to put laughter into his voice. «Unless he's hardly more than a child. You can't be much more than-«

  «I'm ten times older than Lord Tsekuin is in what counts now!» snarled Yezjaro. «He's thirty, I know. But he didn't pick up a sword at six, or kill his first man at twelve, or fight in a pitched battle at fourteen and live through it! And he didn't put on the blue robe at sixteen! I did. So if I want to think he's young, Kunkoi knows I've got the right to!» He poured himself more saya, and gulped it down.

  Blade dropped the topic. He didn't want to push things any farther. Certainly not to the point of provoking the instructor to a fight. Blade suspected that was a fight he would lose. Even if by some chance he won, he would lose a strong and useful guide and ally.

  In spite of occasional bits of luck like this, Blade did not learn as much as he wanted to on the journey. He certainly learned enough to know that he would have to be careful. His eyes would have to be looking in all directions at once, his hand ready to snatch up a spear, and his feet as ready as a cat's to jump.

  But that he would have known without exchanging a single word with anyone. It was the only way of staying alive in Dimension X.

  Chapter 8

  Late in the morning of the fourth day they rode out of the forest into the fields around the castle of Lord Tsekuin.

  Yezjaro had sent a messenger on ahead to bring word to the castle. So Blade was not surprised to see the farmers, who had been working knee-deep in the flooded paddy fields, crowding up to the edge of the road as the party rode past. He was only slightly surprised at the open smiles, the cheers, and the ribald remarks that greeted the young swordsman. Yezjaro, for all his swashbuckling arrogance, was obviously popular.

  They rode past paddy fields and villages of thatched wooden houses for nearly an hour. Then Blade saw a sprawling tangle of towers, buildings, and walls crowning a high hill about three miles ahead. He didn't need Yezjaro's comment to realize that they were approaching the castle. Nor did he need the instructor's pointing hand to notice the cluster of banners gliding out of the gate and moving swiftly down the hill toward them.

  «As I hoped, the Lord Tsekuin himself is coming out to greet us. That is good news for you, Blade. If the lord is prepared to admit in public that you have rendered him a valuable service-well, you may find yourself in a stronger position than I had expected. But do not buy the barrels for saya made from grain as yet unharvested.»

  «We have such sayings and rules in my own land, Yezjaro,» said Blade, deliberately showing more irritation than he felt. «As I have told you, I can see more than a small child and hardly like being treated as one.»

  «So shall it be,» said Yezjaro, with a small bow and a large grin. Both held a hint of mockery. Then the instructor was reining in his horse and signaling the rest of the party to do the same. They pulled up to a stop in the road, and waited while the cluster of banners came bobbing and waving toward them.

  The man who was obviously Lord Tsekuin was
spurring along well ahead of his men. Blade had an extra chance to observe him as he rode up. The warlord was certainly no child. In fact, he must have been on the wrong side of thirty. But there was a softness about his face and his lanky figure that suggested he was still more accustomed to chairs and scrolls than to saddles and swords. Although he was riding out in front of his escort at a good clip, he was obviously not doing it because he felt comfortable on a fast-moving horse.

  With much sawing on the reins the warlord brought his horse to a stop in front of Blade and Yezjaro. Blade noticed that he nearly went headfirst out of the saddle as the horse stopped. Yezjaro removed his broad leather hat and bowed from the waist. Blade did the same.

  «Welcome home, Worthy Instructor Yezjaro,» said Lord Tsekuin. «And welcome, dabuno Blade. I understand it is your wish to enter my service?»

  «It is, Honorable Lord Tsekuin,» said Blade.

  «That is good. Our house has need of strong dabuni, and many such rise high.» The warlord's voice was clear but highpitched. He put no force and no sincerity that Blade could detect into the formal greetings. Perhaps he didn't feel any? There was nothing to do about it if he didn't. Besides, there was something else about Lord Tsekuin that practically jumped out at Blade and slapped him in the face.

  The warlord positively dripped diamonds. Blade saw small ones in rings on three fingers of each hand and others set in a large circular gold pin that held his sash together. Slightly larger ones flashed from a medallion on a chain around his neck and from a badge on the front of his hat. A huge one-a good forty carats of the finest gem quality-flashed from the hilt of his sword.

  As the warlord's escort rode up Blade noticed that they too were decked out with a princely abundance of diamonds. Not quite on the scale of their lord, of course. No doubt those forty-carat monsters didn't grow on bushes even in Gaikon. But all had at least one piece of diamond-studded jewelry and a jeweled sword-hilt.