The Towers Of Melnon rb-15

by Джеффри Лорд

  Kir-Noz's speed with his swords had been far faster than Blade had expected. But Blade's own training was better and his reflexes just as lightning-swift. Before the dust from the clods had started hitting the ground, Blade was lunging at Kir-Noz. Pivoting on his left leg, he shot his right leg out at a speed that even Kir-Noz could not match or guard against. Blade's leg outreached the warrior's sword. His foot crashed into Kir-Noz's stomach as the swords arced down. The warrior folded up like a pocketknife and reeled backward several steps, but he held on to his weapons. Blade closed, chopped Kir-Noz across the left wrist to break his grip on the short sword, and snatched it up as it fell.

  The sight of one of his swords in Blade's hands seemed to revive Kir-Noz, oddly enough. His breath came more normally, and he straightened up and stared at Blade. Blade returned the stare, with considerable respect. Kir-Noz's training might have its limitations, but he was certainly fast, and he could certainly take punishment.

  «Ho, Kir-Noz,» Blade said. «Will it violate the War Wisdom of Melnon if I come against you with this sword against the one I have left to you?»

  Kir-Noz looked dubious. «It were better for me to consult the Council of Wisdom,» he said slowly. «They-«

  «Are not here,» Blade interrupted him quietly. «Come, Kir-Noz. You call yourself a warrior of the First Rank. Surely that should make you fit and able to decide how to kill an enemy.» His voice took on a mocking tone again. «What are the warriors of the First Rank in the Tower of the Serpent? Little children tugging at their mothers' skirts? Perhaps even little children of the Low People?»

  Kir-Noz screamed like a maniac, and launched himself at Blade. If he hadn't still been slowed by Blade's kick, Blade might have died in that next instant. As it was, Kir-Noz's long sword whistled down past his ear only inches away. It took a frantic parry with the short sword to keep the return stroke away from his groin. Blade decided to open the distance again.

  But now that he had Blade at close quarters, Kir-Noz was the last man in Melnon to let him get clear. He came in again, his sword flashing in a dazzling series of strokes that took all of Blade's strength and skill to parry. Blade found his breath beginning to come more quickly, and his legs protested. As the sun rose higher, sweat began to pour down off him, stinging his eyes and making his hand so slick he began to find it hard to keep a grip on his sword.

  He was also becoming aware of two things about his opponent, as the deadly exchange went on. Kir-Noz was wearing completely flexible but obviously tough body armor-glossy green, of course-that covered him from neck to groin. Several times thrusts which should have gone deep into his flesh merely dimpled the armor. And there were few enough chances for those thrusts. In theory a man with a short sword could close in, under the reach of a man with a longer weapon. But if the man with the long sword was as fast as Kir-Noz obviously was, matters weren't so easy. Blade hoped that Kir-Noz would lose some of that speed before long, but nothing of the kind happened. In spite of the punishment he had taken, the Tower warrior seemed to have recovered every bit of his speed and strength. And it began to seem to Blade that Kir-Noz's endurance might just possibly be greater than his own. That was an unpleasant thought. It meant he would have to make his own move before he became more tired and lost too much of his speed.

  More important, he wanted to make the move with his sword. It was obvious by now that fighting in Melnon was highly stylized, according to the «War Wisdom.» If he wanted to ensure his own reputation and good reception here, he would have to beat Kir-Noz with Melnon's weapons. And he still didn't want to kill the man. He was strong and fast and deadly and, if he were defeated in such a way that he could respect Blade, he would make a valuable ally.

  By the time he had worked this all out, Blade knew that he would have to make his move very soon indeed. Twice the tip of Kir-Noz's sword had nicked his flesh leaving thin, gently oozing gashes. Its edge must be razor-sharp. With the heavy blade behind it, the edge would sheer through flesh and bone as though it were cutting paper. Blade realized that he could hardly risk even the lightest wound from Kir-Noz's sword.

  Kir-Noz was wearing calf-length green boots, with heavy soles. And Blade began to notice that Kir-Noz always looked quickly at the ground underfoot before closing. Of course! The man was used to doing all his fighting on level ground. Perhaps that table-flat drill field in the center of the circle was a fighting arena for the warriors of all seven Towers of Melnon? Blade, on the other hand, was barefoot. And he was as agile as a mountain goat at any time, in any place. Step by step, he began to back toward a patch of gravel and small boulders, leading Kir-Noz after him. He ignored the warrior's taunts about «cowards who can fight only against the War Wisdom,» and kept on backing. Kir-Noz was by now too intent on finishing this infuriating opponent to be fully aware of where he was going. He kept following Blade as though he were on a leash.

  Blade stepped back into the patch of rough ground. He saw Kir-Noz look at the gravel and stones. The warrior recognized the treacherous footing-but he kept coming. He advanced furiously, obviously determined not to waste any more time. He closed so fast that Blade could hardly back away quickly enough.

  Then Kir-Noz's left foot came down on an insecure rock. He did not quite stagger, but for a moment it was all he could do to keep on his feet. As his foot slipped off the rock he stepped into a soft patch, sinking so deeply that the gravel was almost halfway up his boot. He lurched to one side, trying desperately to jerk his foot out of the soft spot. As he lurched he was off balance for a moment.

  In that moment Blade closed. He lunged at Kir-Noz with the short sword, stabbing straight at the warrior's armored belly with all the speed and strength left in his own body. Simultaneously he chopped with the edge of a flattened hand at Kir-Nozs right arm, the one holding the long sword. Both blows connected. The jolt in his belly toppled Kir-Noz off balance. He went down on his back in the gravel. He lashed upward with his sword, but Blade's down-chopping hand smashed into his sword arm again. Blade felt the bone crack under the blow and heard Kir-Noz gasp as he bit back a scream. Then Blade dropped on his knees beside the fallen warrior and twisted the long sword out of Kir-Noz's hand. Finally he raised the sword and held the point an inch from Kir-Noz's face.

  «Well, Kir-Noz. I have fought with your weapons. In fact, I have fought you with a short sword against a long one. What does your War Wisdom say to that?»

  Kir-Noz was silent for a moment, biting his lip from the pain of his broken arm. Sweat was pouring off him. Blade undid the straps of the warrior's heavy cylindrical helmet and took it off. That seemed to revive Kir-Noz somewhat.

  «I do not know what the War Wisdom says to what you have done, Blade. Perhaps that is because no one in all of Melnon would believe that what you have just done could be done at all. I have been a warrior of the First Rank of the Tower of the Serpent for ten years, in more than fifty wars fought according to the War Wisdom, without ever seeing a warrior such as you. Do you truly claim to be from the Beyond?»

  «England is nowhere here in Melnon, that is certain,» said Blade with a grin.

  Kir-Noz managed a feeble smile in return. «No, it is not. Perhaps you had best say that you are indeed from the Beyond. Otherwise you could only be a warrior of one of the other towers. Perhaps they might even think you one of the Low People fleeing from your station in another tower. And in either case they would kill you. But if you say that you are something which has no place in our law and custom… Well, at least they will not kill you before the Council of Wisdom makes laws to cover such cases as yours. And perhaps they will not kill you at all. Perhaps they-«

  Kir-Noz never finished the sentence. In that moment Blade sprang to his feet, both swords flashing. He swore. Kir-Noz painfully raised himself on one elbow and looked around him.

  As though they had sprung from the grass and rocks under their feet, some forty green-clad warriors were standing in a wide circle around Blade and Kir-Noz. The expressions on the faces under the helmets were not a
t all friendly.

  Chapter FOUR

  Blade knew one sick moment of absolute certainty that he was not going to get out of this one. Considering how much trouble disposing of one of them had been, he certainly could not hope to survive an encounter with forty warriors of the Tower of the Serpent. Not even if very few of them were as good as Kir-Noz. Blade knew he was half exhausted, and he was obviously completely surrounded.

  How had they managed to get down around him without his seeing them? No doubt there were trapezes all around the Tower's balcony. They could easily have come down on the far side and then come around the Tower on foot. And he had been so preoccupied with Kir-Noz that a herd of elephants might have tramped up to him without attracting his attention.

  Blade was just opening his mouth to shout a challenge to the circle of warriors when Kir-Noz raised his own voice in a sharp hail.

  «Ho, warriors of the Tower of the Serpent! I, Kir-Noz, warrior of the First Rank, ask what you mean to do with this man!»

  The sudden angry question from one of their own people seemed to stun all the warriors in the circle. It was several moments before anyone replied. Then a warrior nearly as tall as Blade himself stepped forward and shouted out his answer.

  «We shall slay him, Kir-Noz, according to the War Wisdom, and we shall be enrolled in the Book of Honor for doing so. Those who go against the War Wisdom of Melnon must be punished, lest Melnon become weak. And if the Towers of Melnon become weak, the Beyond may break in and make an end of us.»

  Kir-Noz laughed. «Nris-Pol, I know all that. Remember that I was a warrior of the First Rank when you were still a candidate. Stop reciting the First Lesson in the Book of the War Wisdom to me.» Kir-Noz laughed again. «It is too late to defend our tower against the Beyond, for this warrior who defeated me is from the Beyond.»

  If Kir-Noz had given all forty of the watching warriors an electric shock they could hardly have been more startled. Gasps and murmurs of astonishment and what sounded like oaths rose from all around the circle. The tall warrior named Nris-Pol grimaced. «That is a poor jest, Kir-Noz. There is no human life in the Beyond. If this-thing-is a being indeed from the Beyond, then we shall not treat it as a warrior according to the War Wisdom. We shall call in a master to administer it, as if it were one of the Low People.» He turned to one of his men. «Go, use the far-speaker, and call the First Master.» The man was turning to leave, when Kir-Noz raised his voice to a roar.

  «Hold, you fools! I was First on the Ground today, and I have been a warrior of the First Rank longer than any I see here. Certainly longer than that wind-filled bag Nris-Pol! You shall stay and hear me, and you shall not depart without my leave or I will speak to the Council of Wisdom about you. And indeed the War Wisdom is sacred, and the council's way with those who violate it is short, as you will discover if you do not hold your tongue!»

  There was more strength in Kir-Noz's voice than Blade had thought could be left in his whole body. The warriors of the circle stopped dead at his words-even Nris-Pol. In the silence Kir-Noz went on. «This man is not a warrior of another tower sent to our Waste Land in violation of the War Wisdom, for he has skills in war that no warrior of the Towers of Melnon has ever had in our fifteen generations.»

  «All the more reason to kill him, then,» shouted Nris-Pol. «He will corrupt us, lead the candidates astray, into paths contrary to the War Wisdom.»

  «Do not be so sure of that, Nris-Pol,» snapped Kir-Noz. «Consider how after he drove me back the first time, he took up a proper sword and beat me with it. One sword, and a short one at that, against my long sword. He defeated me with that, me, Kir-Noz, one hundred and seventeen times victor in the wars.»

  «And victor over you, Nris-Pol, in a dozen practice bouts,» someone called out. «When was the last time you beat him, Nris-Pol?» Nris-Pol growled savagely in reply.

  Kir-Noz continued. «And then when he had me flat on my back on the ground, he had speech with me, instead of killing me slowly. That means he cannot be one of the Low People who by some chance has learned a warrior's arts. Even one of the Low People of the Tower of the Leopard would never have spared a warrior of another tower. And the Low People of any other tower would have gelded me with a dull knife and plucked out my eyes with their thumbs before slaying me. You know this well, all of you. You have seen what the Low People in their wrath can do.»

  «In their rebellion against the Peace Wisdom,» snapped Nris-Pol. «And it proves nothing that this-thing-did not slay you. He would have known that he was in full sight of the warriors of the Tower of the Serpent, and what we would do to him if he slew you. There was no mercy in him, only fear.»

  «Nonsense,» snapped Kir-Noz. «Were he one of the Low People, no fear of anything we might do to him would have held him back. His life was already forfeit for escape and for raising his hand against me. What more did he have to lose? You well know how a man with nothing to lose is made desperate and all the more dangerous.»

  «Beware, Kir-Noz,» roared Nris-Pol. «You speak too softly of the Low People. Remember what happened to your brother Bryg-Noz before you go on in this fashion.»

  «Bryg-Noz was as loyal a keeper of the War and Peace Wisdoms alike as could be found in all of Melnon,» Kir-Noz replied sharply. «You know that well. And you know why he was sent among the Low People. You coveted his position in Queen Mir-Kasa's bed. But I have heard that though-you have his position now, you have not his positions. And Her Splendor is not pleased with that-or with you. Perhaps she will soon find an excuse to send you down among the Low People.»

  That string of insults reduced Nris-Pol to incoherent shriekings and stammerings. The other warriors looked on. And Blade could see amusement on the faces of many of them. Kir-Noz's tongue seemed to be as sharp and fast-moving as his swords. As Nris-Pol spluttered away into silence a heavy-set, barrel-chested warrior with gray hair showing under his helmet spoke up.

  «All that you say may be wise, Kir-Noz, but do we have time for dealing with the matter at such length now? It lacks but little of the fourth hour, and at the fourth hour we are to meet the warriors of the Tower of the Eagle in the Plain of War. If we spend much more time here talking, we shall not have time to choose a warrior to replace you. Then we must either go forth to have our war with the Eagles with one man less than they, or give up five man-points from the outset for being late. Unless you think you can still fight?»

  Kir-Noz shook his head. «My right arm is broken, Pen-Jerg.»

  Pen-Jerg shrugged. «Then let us send this man who has defeated you upward and have him kept among the Low People until the day's war is over. We can deal with him more properly at some later time.»

  Again Kir-Noz shook his head, this time angrily. «That would be to dishonor and disgrace a man who is certainly a mighty warrior. Shame would take him, take his war skills from him, were we to send him among the Low People.»

  «That is true,» said Pen-Jerg. «But is there any other way?»

  «Yes,» said Kir-Noz. «I cannot fight today against the Eagles. Let this man fight them in my place. Perhaps he does not understand every word of the War Wisdom. But you all saw him fighting, I think. Would you not say that he has the War Wisdom in his soul?»

  Pen-Jerg nodded, and he was not the only one. But Nris-Pol let out another animal growl and shouted. «You are fools to listen to this nonsense! The Eagles-«

  «So I speak nonsense, and your fellow chosen warriors of this day are fools? Well, well, Nris-Pol. Would you care to go before the Council of Wisdom and say the same words again?» That shut Nris-Pol up as efficiently as hitting him over the head could have done. Blade could see relief on the faces of most of the warriors in the circle. They had obviously been getting tired of Nris-Pol's snappings and snarlings and bad temper.

  Kir-Noz went on briskly. «As Pen-Jerg says, the Eagles will not wait forever. It is in the War Wisdom that if all the warriors of a day's war party choose a new man, he may be exempted from the formal rites. Will you all give your voices for thi
s man?»

  «I certainly will,» said Pen-Jerg. «And I urge all of you to do likewise. We all know Kir-Noz to be a man of honor and much knowledge of the War and Peace Wisdoms both. I will not set my judgment up against his in the matter of this man. I choose him to join us, to make up the number of our war party for this day's war with the Eagles.»

  «I choose him also,» said a warrior standing next to Pen-Jerg.

  «And I!»

  «And I also.»

  «I do choose him.»

  The cries of assent went rapidly around the circle, until it came to be Nris-Pol's turn. Kir-Noz motioned to Blade to bend down, and whispered in his ear. «If he says 'No,' then that is an end to it. I can say nothing for you, since the War Wisdom says the choice must be altogether free.» Blade nodded, but he could not help wondering whether this mass of rules and customs called the War Wisdom really deserved the name. — «War Folly» might be more accurate. And if the «Peace Wisdom» that governed the civil affairs of Melnon was as complex and convoluted, God knows what things must be like inside the towers!

  While Blade was considering this, Nris-Pol was considering his vote: It was obvious that the decision was costing him a good deal of effort. Finally he shrugged his shoulders and growled, «Very well. The chaos from Beyond may break into Melnon for this day's work. But I will not stand apart from your folly-for now. I choose this man.»

  That ended any danger of opposition. Within a few more minutes the whole party had chosen Blade. He stood up and stared around him at the circle of men who had suddenly become his comrades, according to a set of strange customs he still hardly understood.

  «You have done me great honor, to choose me, a man from the Beyond, to join you for this day's war. May any punishment for this choice be visited upon me alone. And may terrible punishment indeed fall upon me if I go against the War Wisdom of the Towers of Melnon.»

  «It will,» growled Nris-Pol. «Don't worry about that.»