by Джеффри Лорд
«Sit there my friend. I think you had best have your wounds treated before you speak further. I do not think a surgeon is needed, though. I will summon the servants.»
Blade looked a question at her, and she shook her head. «They will neither learn anything nor tell anything. They are deaf mutes.» She turned aside, and pulled a cord hanging by the door.
The maidservants must have been within sight of whatever indicator the cord had moved. They scurried in through the door within moments. The woman's hands flickered in a complex series of gestures; the maidservants bowed and vanished as silently as they had come. After a longer interval they were back with a bucket of hot scented water and armloads of clean cloths. Some of these they soaked in the water and then used to sponge Blade clear. Whatever made the water smell also made it sting more than usual. The smart and pain of Blade's thorn wounds and spear slashes began to fade as the maidservants worked them over with the wet cloths.
The rest of the cloths they tore into strips and tied around the larger wounds, particularly the ones in Blade's thigh and hand. Then they vanished again, this time to return with a large silver jug and two jeweled cups. Both jug and cups were marked with the ox-sign of the royal house of Gonsara.
Blade sniffed at the fumes rising from the cups. The woman smiled at him again. She had sat watching the servant girls minister to him with an almost expressionless face. Almost. There were hints of curiosity in her expression, curiosity about more than Blade's tales of the cult of Ayocan.
«It will do you no harm,» said the woman. «Indeed, it will do you much good. Do you think I would do you harm now, before you and I had talked of the cult of Ayocan?» There was a slight hesitation in that last sentence, and Blade had a weary suspicion what that hesitation concealed. Another highborn woman who wanted to have her fling before discussing urgent business. He looked at the woman, unsmiling, and saw her own smile fade as she saw the expression on his face. «Do you doubt my word?» she said, and there was unmistakably an edge in her voice.
Being stubborn with this woman would obviously do no good. Blade shook his head, slowly and reluctantly, then picked up his cup and sipped from it. The woman also picked up her cup, but drained it in a series of long gulps. Then she leaned back in her chair, sighing contentedly and licking her red lips. But her eyes did not leave Blade's face. There was nothing for him to do but to drain his own cup also.
For a short time Blade's only sensation was one of relief that he did not promptly fall on the floor and writhe in agony as poison burned out his insides. But he was still not sure that drinking the cup had been the wisest thing to do. He kept his eyes fixed on the woman, watching for some signs of triumph or anticipation on her face.
Before he saw any such signs, he felt signs of something else in his own body. Unmistakably, though perhaps embarrassingly, he was developing an erection. Stark naked as he was, there was no way of concealing it. There must have been a powerful aphrodisiac in the hot wine. And the woman had drunk that same wine. Would she soon be feeling the same sensations that were now beginning to flood through Blade? Trying to ignore his own increasing arousal, he kept watching her closely.
As he looked at her, he realized that she was younger than he had believed at first. Perhaps unconsciously, he had associated her height-only a couple of inches shorter than himself-and her poise with middle age or more. But all the skin he could see was firm and unlined, even the telltale skin of the neck. There were only the faintest lines about the corners of the wide dark eyes, and not a single strand of hair that wasn't jet black. Small sapphire earrings sparkled on each of her ears, and a sapphire bracelet glittered on one wrist. Definitely this was a woman of high rank, to dress so, wear such jewels, and have such chambers within the palace.
As time passed, it became obvious that the woman was also becoming aroused from the aphrodisiac. Her breath was coming faster, and so deeply that Blade could hear it from halfway across the room. A pale pink tongue kept creeping out and moistening half-parted red lips. The wide, dark eyes did not leave Blade, but they did roam up and down his body. Occasionally those eyes lingered on Blade's massive erection. It was not painful, but neither did it show any signs of going down at all.
Then suddenly the woman stood up with a wriggle of her hips, and came toward Blade. With a single fluidly graceful motion, she knelt before him. Blade saw that her eyes were now almost glazed with a rutting passion.
With that expression on her face, Blade expected the woman to fling herself on him, to impale herself on his swollen organ. But she did not. Instead she bent her head forward on its slender neck, her red lips wrinkling in hungry anticipation. A quick dart of her head, and those lips closed around Blade's erection. They held it for a moment without moving, then began a slow, steady, rhythmic motion.
If this woman ranked high in Gonsara, she also ranked high among the experts at fellatio Blade had met. He discovered this soon enough. She would work away, building him steadily, with a deadly sureness, toward climax. And then, without a word or a motion from Blade, she would sense when he was approaching the final lass of control. In that moment her lips would cease their movements for a moment. Blade would feel the pulsing and the pressure within him fade. But only for a moment. Soon she would start again, and they would repeat the whole sequence.
How often they repeated it, Blade didn't know. After two or three times, it seem ludicrous to keep count. After four of five, it became impossible. The work of those moist, mobile red lips around his organ, added to the stimulus of the drug, had Blade half-mad. He kept his eyes on the woman with a grim intentness. It was as if his eyes could strip off the gold-embroidered bodice and the shimmering red pantaloons, the jeweled sandals and bracelets, and reveal what lay beneath. Blade had a vague impression that the curves concealed by the woman's clothing were more subtle than usual. But they were definitely there, definitely female. Blade did not really have much attention to spare for anything except those lips that were engulfing him.
In time they stopped. Blade had become so nearly addicted to them that in that moment he felt an almost anguished disappointment. But then the woman rose to her feet and placed both hands on the jeweled silver clasp of her pantaloons.
«Yes, my friend, you shall have what more you want. And you shall give me what more I want, what I want and need.» There was a thin smile on her face, but her deep voice was deepened still further and shaken by barely controlled passion. In those moments when she had been steadily piling up Blade's passion, she had also been building up her own.
Her fingers moved swiftly, and with a faint click the clasp of her pantaloons slipped open. They began to sag and slide, drifting down past her waist, revealing a broad-flat stomach. They kept on sliding, and the beginning of a gentle outward curve of hips came into view. Then the woman grinned and spread her legs apart, stopping the descent of the pantaloons. She must have been watching Blade's eyes, because her grin broadened.
«Indeed, my friend, such disappointment. You are ready.» Her hands moved again, this time up to the clasp that fastened her embroidered bodice in place. With another click that clasp also gave, and the bodice sagged open. More gentle curves came into view, the upper slopes of the woman's firm breasts. But this time the clothing did not stop moving. Slowly the bodice slipped down. Then suddenly she shrugged her shoulders and it slipped off completely and fell to the floor. Small rock-hard breasts sprang free, with smaller dark nipples standing up, engorged and firmed, into small jutting points.
The sight was too much for Blade's last fragments of self-restraint. He took two quick steps forward, and his arms went around the woman. His hands met at the small of her back and swiftly moved down under the waistband of her pantaloons. He clasped the satiny but firm buttocks. Involuntarily the woman gasped and her hips wiggled and jerked. The pantaloons slid the rest of the way down to the floor, landing in a heap about her feet. Blade could not see the dark hair that he knew must be covering her pubic mound. But he could feel it curling ar
ound his own engorged phallus as he pulled the woman hard against him.
As he did so, she gave a little leap, and came down on Blade's rigidity. It slid easily up into her already soaking interior. Her head went back and her eyes rolled up as her mouth opened to let out a moan of delight. For a moment she moaned so loud that Blade thought she was already reaching climax. The idea very nearly pushed him over the edge, and he almost groaned with the effort not to release then and there.
After a moment the strain faded once again, and it was no longer an effort to keep a steady rhythm inside the woman. She grew wetter and wetter as Blade stroked away, moaning at each thrust. He felt her weight grow heavier and heavier on him and against him. She was losing the ability to stand by herself as more and more of her became centered around Blade's massive maleness thrusting steadily up into her. Blade found her pushing down on him harder and harder, as though she could not bear to have him withdraw from her even the least bit.
Eventually, inevitably, she reached her first climax, and her body shook like a tree in a high wind. All her weight came on Blade, and they both nearly fell to the floor. Her mouth opened and became slack, and moans and whimperings like those of a dying animal came out of it.
Blade very nearly reached his own climax while the woman was in the middle of hers. The jerkings and twistings of her body, both inside and outside, managed to stimulate him still more. But the woman's climax faded away seconds before it triggered off Blade's.
As she became momentarily helpless, Blade summoned up his last bits of strength and lifted the woman up and carried her into the bedroom. For those seconds he was no longer inside her, and she whimpered at the unwelcome sensation. Then he swung her onto the bed and lowered her onto the light padding. She whimpered again. Before she could whimper a third time, he was atop her and back inside her, and his thrusts were coming in a mounting rhythm again.
This time Blade did not try to pace himself or hold back or wait for the woman. He was past self-restraint and past good bedroom manners. He was past anything except releasing the raw passion that was once again building up in him.
It built up quickly now, and the release also came quickly. The woman's second spasm came with Blade's. For a very long moment there were only two maddened animals thrashing about on the bed, uttering animals' moans and cries, without the smallest piece of reason left between them.
The moment of release and madness passed for both of them. Blade mustered up enough strength to roll off the woman instead of sagging down on her and flattening her into the mattress. But that was the last strength he could muster up for quite a while. The frantic bout of sex on top of the fight, the run, and the leap across the moat had thoroughly drained him.
Eventually his fogged vision cleared and his breathing slowed to something like normal. He felt enough strength returning to raise himself on one elbow and look down at the woman sprawled on the bed beside him. Her mouth was still sagging open, but life and reason were returning to her eyes also. Finally her mouth closed, she raised a hand to push tangled and sweat-soaked hair back from her eyes. Then once again her face broke in that oddly appealing grin.
«Perhaps I should say, 'Well done,' as I often say to a warrior who has distinguished himself,» she said. «But perhaps other words are needed for this. There are any number of warriors in Gonsara strong in other parts of their bodies. But your strength extends farther than theirs, into one place more than theirs. Yes, you deserve something special.»
This seemed to require some comment from Blade. «Perhaps. But that is at your discretion-my lady.»
«It is indeed at my discretion,» said the woman with a grin. «I am Queen Jaskina of Gonsara.»
Chapter 18
This remark also seemed to require some response from Blade. He could not very easily bow while lying on a bed. Nor could he quite see the need to be courtly and formal to the queen under the circumstances. He contented himself with a deferential nod and a murmured, «I am honored.»
She patted him intimately. «As was I, my friend. And now perhaps you will tell me your name. We have not, after all, been properly introduced.» The grin was back on her face as she said that.
Blade held yet another mental debate with himself over what to tell her. If she was telling the truth about being Queen of Gonsara, it was beyond possibility for her to be an ally of the cult of Ayocan. If she was lying-well, he would face that when and if he had to.
«I am a warrior from a distant people, the English. My name is Richard Blade. I did indeed make an enemy of the cult of Ayocan. But that was in Chiribu, where I came across the mountains from my part of the world into yours. Now I serve King Hurakun of Chiribu.»
Without leaving out any of the crucial details, Blade told Jaskina of what he had done and what he was supposed to do. The queen listened in silence, her eyes fixed on Blade's face, and her lips drawn tight over her even white teeth. All during Blade's tale there was not the slightest trace of the ready grin in her face. And she only spoke once, after Blade mentioned killing Pterin.
«I wonder-do you think he knew who was killing him?
«I have wondered about that myself. I rather doubt it.»
«That is too bad. It would have made his death just that much harder. And the priests of Ayocan one and all deserve a hard death. Now perhaps we can see that they get it.»
We.
«You and I. At last King Thambral will have to believe that the cult of Ayocan is a deadly danger.»
«I did not think he was ignoring it before, your Majesty.»
«No, but he wished to be just and legal about dealing with it. And he wished above all things peace with Chiribu.»
«A good wish, I should think.» Blade had a vague and disagreeable feeling that hidden meanings were lurking in Jaskina's words. He wanted to draw more out of her.
«No doubt, under most circumstances. But peace with Chiribu, at the cost of ignoring such a deadly threat? That is not wise. And now the threat extends to the very existence of the Throne of the Red Ox.» Again Blade had the impression of hidden meanings.
And again he decided to test Jaskina. «Indeed it does. I don't know when the Death-Vowed will be turned loose against you and Thambral and perhaps others among the highly placed of Gonsara. But I suspect it will be soon. Certainly within a few days, perhaps even tonight. I think-«
«Indeed, it might very well be tonight,» said Jaskina slowly. «Well, my own household is well protected, as you know.» She pointed at Blade's thorn wounds. «Once the gate guards are alerted, not even the Death-Vowed will be able to get in. And if they do, I have you, as a second line of defense.»
«Your Majesty, I must go to the palace of King Thambral and warn him also. Otherwise his guards may not be alert, and the Death-Vowed may break through them and kill him.»
«Yes, they might.» The total calm in Jaskina's voice as she said that bothered Blade. «Indeed, they might. But-«
«Yes, your Majesty. But-«There was an edge in Blade's voice now, as suspicions grew in him.
«But I think if Thambral will not take proper precautions by himself, is there any reason to help him? The gods take small care for fools, so why should we do more than they?»
There were any number of possible answers to that question, but Blade gave none of them. Suspicion had become certainty. If Queen Jaskina was not on the side of the cult of Ayocan, she certainly had ambitions of her own. And she was as ready as any Elder Brother of the cult to see King Thambral's life spurt out under the swords and axes of the Death-Vowed.
This definitely was a surprise for Blade, and a thoroughly unpleasant one. It was what J would have called «a most infernally disagreeable complication.» Between one minute and the next, Jaskina had gone from probable ally to almost certain enemy. She was looking hard at him now, and Blade had to avoid meeting her eyes. If he had done so, she would have seen his new knowledge and his new hostility there as clearly as if they had been written on the wall in letters a foot high.
A
s it was, she did not see it and react to it until Blade had rolled out of bed and put a safe distance between himself and the queen. That was just as well. When Jaskina did realize what Blade was thinking, she screamed like a panther in its death agony. Then she rolled out of bed and dashed for the cord to summon the servants.
Fortunately the pillows on the bed were large and heavy. Blade snatched one up and flung it across the room after Jaskina, aiming low and hitting her in the back of the legs. She staggered, stumbled, and went down. Blade leaped over the bed, pain from his wounded leg stabbing through him. He reached Jaskina and fell on top of her just as she was reaching for the pull-cord.
She screamed again as he landed on her, and then all her breath went out of her in a whoosh. She went almost completely limp, but Blade did not let go of her. He didn't trust her out of his sight or out of his hands, and he began looking around the room for something to use to tie her up. Then he would have to get out of the palace as fast as possible. He had just decided on using the sheets from the bed when he heard the sound of several sets of running feet outside the door. Along with the feet he heard heavy breathing, and then two shrill screams. One was a woman, obviously not a mute, dying in agony and terror. The other was unmistakably the scream of one of Ayocan's Death-Vowed.
As the woman's scream died away in a choking gurgle, Blade leaped to his feet and darted for the door. Jaskina also leaped to her feet and ran in the opposite direction, toward the inner chambers of her apartment. Blade didn't worry about her. For the moment he could only afford to worry about getting out of this palace, through a swarm of Death-Vowed. And they would doubtless make him their main target the moment he stuck his nose out into the corridor.