The Golden Steed rb-13

by Джеффри Лорд

  Now all seventy of the Pendari horsemen were out on the level ground and picking up speed. The hoof beats thundered in Blade's ears, and the clouds of dust about him made him cough. Through the yellow swirl he could see the Rojags scattering to their horses. Some of them were already mounted, spurring their horses toward the far side of the village. But others already lay still or writhing in the streets, arrows in their bodies.

  Blade urged his horse to the left, toward the center of the advancing Pendari line. The fringe of an attack was no place for the Pendarnoth. He saw the houses of the village closed. Had the inhabitants managed to barricade themselves inside their houses? A Rojag arrow arched across his field of vision, ill-aimed but close enough so that he heard its whistle. Time to try a few shots with his own bow-the range was getting down.

  By the time Blade had nocked an arrow to his bow the charging Pendari were almost in the village. He took his first shot at a man scrambling onto his horse in the street to his right. The arrow missed the man but stung his horse. It broke into a gallop, thundering away up the street while the man ran frantically after it, waving his arms. Then the Pendari were in among the houses, and with walls on all sides there was no more room to use the bow. Blade drew his sword and raised his eyes to the hill beyond the town. It was dotted with little plumes of dust raised by the horses of the Rojags as they fled pell-mell up the hill. Blade dug his heels into the horse's flanks again and urged it down the street.

  As he did so, horns blared all over the village. Not the raucous, bellowing signal horns of the Pendari, but horns with a deeper, clearer note, like great bells. Blade's horse reared in surprise. Before he could spur it into movement again, every door of every house in the village flew open with a crash. The deep horns sounded again. And from inside the houses, Lanyri soldiers poured out at a run, swords drawn and shields up.

  The Lanyri infantrymen were trained to perfection. Blade recovered from his surprise within a few seconds, but even that was too slow. In those few seconds the Lanyri had blocked off both ends of Blade's street with a double row of soldiers, and they were doubling that again. In either direction he saw the sun glinting on massed Lanyri armor and weapons.

  Blade knew that nothing short of a winged horse could get him past those lines of grim infantrymen without aid. But if the Pendari charged from the other side…

  He raised his voice in a mighty shout. «Halloooooo! I'm trapped in the central street! Charge them from the rear!» At least his shouts startled the Lanyri. He saw the formations stir. Then the rear rank of each one faced about. Out came six-foot throwing spears with burnished iron heads, and up they went, forming a bristling row of points facing any possible Pendari charge. But there was no response from the Pendari to Blade's call, not even an answering shout.

  An ugly suspicion formed in his mind. Was the whole attack on the village intended as a way of leading him into a Lanyri trap? Certainly the Lanyri must have been waiting in the houses, from the way they swarmed out on signal. A trap, definitely. For him, probably. He looked beyond the soldiers to the slope of the hill. And what he saw there turned suspicion to certainty.

  The entire Pendari force was charging up the hill, yelling, screaming, waving swords and lances, and shooting arrows, in mad pursuit of the fleeing Rojags. The latter had almost vanished over the hill, but the Pendari showed no signs of slowing. The whole hillside was hazed with the dust raised by the hooves of their horses. Even the Pendari who had been in the village, who should have been responding to Blade's call, were pounding away into the distance.

  Blade looked behind him to see if the rear offered a way out. The Lanyri were just as thick and looked just as ready there. But beyond them Blade saw half a dozen Pendari he recognized as members of his guard. He raised his voice in another below.

  «Halloooo! Guards! To me, to me!» Desperate as he was, he would not shout out the name of the Pendarnoth in the hearing of the Lanyri. If the enemy had the slightest doubt of his identity, he wanted to leave them doubting.

  The Pendari heard him. They wheeled their horses in a wide circle and nocked arrows to their bows. The Lanyri, however, promptly lowered their heads and raised their shields to form a solid leather roof over their ranks. Blade shook his head. Half a dozen Pendari could do nothing against the well-protected Lanyri flanks merely by shooting arrows at them. They would have to press home a charge.

  Three flights of arrows whistled down onto the Lanyri shield-roof before the Pendari saw what Blade had already seen. They had no horns with them, but Blade faintly heard their senior man shouting as he wheeled his men into line. Blade backed his horse up until he was just outside sword range of the Lanyri at the other end of the street. He wanted as much room to pick up speed as possible, and he was willing to gamble that Lanyri orders were to take him alive. It seemed likely. If they had wanted him dead, they could have put two dozen spears into him five minutes ago.

  The Pendari were lined up now. Blade could see the horses pawing at the ground as the riders' excitement communicated itself to their mounts. Then the senior man barked a single word, and all six men plunged forward. At the same moment Blade kicked his horse into motion, charging down on the Lanyri.

  It almost worked. Blade saw the line of spears waver for a moment, but then it steadied. The first line of Lanyri dropped to their knees, still holding their spears out. In a single precise sequence of motions, the second line dropped their shields, drew back their right arms, and threw their spears over the heads of the first line. At the same moment the volley of spears struck the charging Pendari, Blade struck the other side of the Lanyri lines.

  If the soldiers facing him had been two seconds slower raising their spears, Blade would have plowed straight into their unprotected ranks. But the gleaming metal points flashed up. Blade sawed frantically on the reins, trying to turn or slow his horse. But it was moving too fast. Still at a gallop, it impaled itself on half a dozen points.

  Even so the shock nearly broke the Lanyri line. Half the soldiers in the rank facing Blade went down like bowling pins, helmets and shields flying in all directions. Even some of the ones in the rank behind reeled backward. But Blade's horse also went down, dead before it hit the ground, blood gushing from its wounds.

  Blade managed to leap to one side as his horse toppled, and to land on his feet, sword swinging. He knew his only chance was to plunge straight at the Lanyri. Perhaps he could cut his way through their ranks before they recovered from the shock. He charged.

  He sprang into the gap in the line his horse had broken. His sword lashed out to either side and ahead in a deadly pattern. His blows clanged uselessly, jarringly, off Lanyri helmets and shields. He had to leap backward to avoid their sword thrusts. Lanyri swords were short, less than two feet long, which made them deadly for thrusting, deadly in this type of close fighting.

  Blade came in again, and this time one of his sword slashes was deflected by the top of a shield into an enemy throat. Blade snatched the man's sword from his sagging hand and used it to thrust into a second man's thigh. Now there was a wider gap in the Lanyri line facing him and he hurled himself into it, both swords flashing. Two more men in front of him went down, and a third on his left. But from both sides other Lanyri were crowding around him. He could not fight so many on all sides, not with those deadly, thrusting, short swords. If he stayed in close, sooner or later someone was going to get a thrust into him. Whether or not they planned to take him prisoner, there could always be mistakes.

  Again he backed away. As he did so, a man whose steel breast plate was silvered stepped out into the open.

  «Ho, Pendarnoth!»

  Blade frowned. So they did know his name. «What is this hailing me as the Pendarnoth?»

  The officer threw his head back and laughed. «Don't play the fool, friend. You are indeed the man hailed by those dirty Pendari as their Father, the Pendarnoth. If we weren't sure you were the Pendarnoth, you'd have been dead ten minutes ago. My men have strict orders from General Ornilan t
o take you alive. How much alive he didn't say though. You'll be better off if you surrender now. Most of your men have run off and we've killed the ones who didn't.» He pointed behind him, and Blade saw that all six of the guardsmen lay dead on the ground, drilled through by Lanyri spears. So did five of their horses. «Well?» the officer barked.

  Blade thought fast. He didn't know what reason the Lanyri had to keep him alive. But if they were going to do so, for whatever reason, he'd be better off than continuing the fight against this kind of odds. If he surrendered unwounded, there was a better chance of escape.

  «Very well,» he said. «I submit.»

  The Lanyri officer grinned, and his men ran forward to surround Blade.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  General Ornilan was a large and beefy specimen of a normally rather small people. His breastplate and helmet were not only gilded but jeweled, and so was the hilt of his sword. He wore a dark red cloak and a red plume on his helmet. Both swirled and waved as he strode up and down inside his headquarters, without taking his eyes off Blade. Blade, unarmed but unbound, was seated on a stool in the middle of the room.

  Neither did Blade take his eyes off the general. Every little bit he could learn or guess about Ornilan was something he might be able to use. He had learned that early in his career as an agent and followed it ever since. It had meant the difference between success and failure a dozen times, and had saved his life four times. So he watched Ornilan continuously, and mentally noted down every word the man spoke, every gesture he made.

  Ornilan finally stopped in front of Blade and stared down at him. «You are a sensible man,» said the general. «And you are not one of those dirty Pendari savages. That's obvious to anyone who looks at you. What do you think you have to gain by showing loyalty to them?»

  Blade tried to pick the answer most in keeping with the image he was projecting. He wanted the Lanyri to think that he was really a cynical adventurer who was playing the role of the Pendarnoth for what he could get out of it. He wanted to come across as a man who might be bought, but who had enough of an opinion of himself to set a high price. That way he could spin on the bargaining as long as possible. In the process he could find out as much as possible about the Lanyri, and in the end win himself as much freedom as possible. Then all that would be left after that was to use the freedom to escape. All? That would be enough.

  He shrugged. «You haven't convinced me I have much to gain by abandoning that loyalty to the Pendari.» He waited for Ornilan to say something like «Except your life,» and gave the general due credit when those words didn't come. Ornilan was not a blusterer who hurled wild threats like his soldier's javelins.

  «There isn't much you could gain by simply joining us as another warrior, I agree. We already have more than enough auxiliary fighters, with the Rojags and the mercenaries. And even if we didn't have those, we could still win. Our soldiers are the best in the world.» That was not said as a boast but a fact. Blade was more than willing to admit that the Lanyri were very good, even if not that good. He said so.

  Ornilan beamed at the compliment. «I said you were a reasonable man. Do you really think then that the Pendari rabble can stand against our infantry?»

  The Pendari had done so once before and could do so again, but that would not be the right thing to say. «They can certainly put up a long and stubborn fight. And they will be as stubborn as the rocks of their own mountains against a foreign invader who seeks to conquer and hold their land. I have been among them more than any Lanyri. I know the way their minds work better than you do.» A blunt statement, every word of it perfectly true. And every word of it was intended to remind Ornilan that Blade was a precious mine of information.

  Ornilan got the message and rose to the bait. The man was not a good negotiator. He was much too eager to win Blade over, and inclined to be careless about the price he paid for it. The general's reputation was at stake in this campaign. And the Pendarnoth could make the difference between success and failure. So it was not surprising that Ornilan was reaching out with both hands to grab at any chance of winning Blade's support.

  «You are quite right about the Pendari's courage. They may not have much discipline of the kind that has made Lanyr, but they have courage and they will fight long and hard. In such a fight their whole land will be terribly devastated. You must know what happens to those who resist the efforts of the Empire to bring them under its just rule. You can spare the people of Pendar all this fighting and death.» The general was allowing for the possibility that Blade might be truly loyal to the Pendari. He was holding out the possibility of saving the Pendari by betraying them. Blade found it hard to keep a thin smile off his face.

  But his expression was sober as he replied. «All these words are very pretty to hear. The Lanyri have as great a skill in word-spinning as they do in fighting. But you have not told me what you would like to see me do. Perhaps it is time you spoke of that.»

  From the expression that lit up Ornilan's face, Blade knew he had struck the right tone at the right moment. Ornilan would never make a poker player. He face telegraphed every emotion in him, and he would lose his shirt in every game.

  «Consider,» said Ornilan. «You are the Pendarnoth, the Father of the Pendari, the man who rides the Golden Steed, who fulfills the oldest and greatest myth of a foolish people much given to such myths. You have enormous power among them. What would happen if you rode back to Vilesh and proclaimed that you had just had a vision?»

  «That would depend on what kind of vision I said I had. What are you suggesting?» Blade was trying to balance his voice between skepticism and curiosity.

  «Let us say-a vision that the Lanyri come as friends to the Pendari, and should not be resisted?»

  The contempt in Blade's laugh was entirely real. «Are you serious, General Ornilan? And I thought you were also an intelligent man.» Ignoring the swift hardening of Ornilan's face, he went on. «It would be a miracle if I lived two days after saying something like that. The Pendari are determined to fight you, whether they have any hope of winning or not. And they believe they can win.» This drew a short burst of laughter from Ornilan. Blade shrugged. «I know what you Lanyri think. But that doesn't make any difference here. What counts is what the Pendari think. And they are certain they can win.»

  Blade stood up and in his turn began to pace around the room. He was trying to look tense, concerned, and sincere all at the same time. «As long as they are certain they can win, they will try to fight. And it will be dangerous for anyone, even the Pendarnoth, to try to persuade them not to fight. I have not lived as long as I have by running into dangerous situations, at least not without some prospect of reward.»

  The word «reward» made Ornilan stop and almost glow all over, as if Blade had just offered him a ton of Pendari gold. Then the general clasped his hands behind his back tightly, as if he were trying to bottle up his delight. «We can manage a reward. Indeed we can manage a reward great enough to make any man interested. We can…»

  «I want specific terms,» said Blade sharply. «No more fine words. They may glitter like Pendari gold, but they are like so much mountain rock when it comes to being worth anything.»

  For the first time Blade wondered if he had gone too far. Ornilan's face went first pale, then red. His voice grated as he said, «You set yourself very high for an adventurer, my friend. That will not improve your chances among the Lanyri, let me tell you.»

  «Tell me something I don't already know,» snapped Blade. «Tell me why I should expect any chance among the Pendari if I go along with your proposals. And tell me what the Lanyri will do to me that the Pendari will not if they detect this change of loyalties and… ah… let us say, resent it.»

  Ornilan was not too angry to recognize the sense of Blade's words. His face returned to its normal color. «I understand what you mean. Very well, I will be precise. When we have conquered Pendar, you will be second viceroy. You will have free run of the women and gold of Pendar, a palace of your
own, command of Pendari and perhaps even Lanyri troops-power and wealth greater than that of many kings.»

  «Who is going to be first viceroy? I must be able to work with him. Otherwise my gilded bed in Pendar may prove a bed of nails.»

  Ornilan grinned. «Have you been around the royal palace in Vilesh so long without knowing that? The High Councilor Klerus is our man, body and soul-at least for the moment.» Ornilan did not want to put into words what Blade could easily see was in his mind. Klerus would be reliable as long as he needed the Lanyri. But after that? He might dream of the Pendari forgiving his treachery if he offered to lead them in revolt against Lanyri rule. If such a revolt succeeded, Klerus would be truly king, ruler of an independent Pendar, not just a satrap of the Lanyri. It was certainly an idea that would occur to Klerus, if it had not already.

  «That also I have heard,» said Blade. «But I find it hard to believe, considering the number of times that Klerus has tried to have me killed or at least made powerless.»

  Ornilan shrugged. «He is sometimes too eager. He no doubt thought you were an enemy at the time. I can understand what he tried to do.»

  «I can understand it, too,» said Blade irritably. «But I cannot endure it any longer if I am to cooperate with you. And certainly not if I am to cooperate with Klerus. Am I, by the way?»

  «Let us say that you will work in parallel but not hand-in-hand,» said the general. «We cannot raise you above Klerus, for he would become jealous. We cannot put you under Klerus, for then you would be able to see only with his eyes and hear only with his ears. We want you to use your own wisdom in this matter.» A polite way of saying that he should spy on Klerus. With pleasure!

  «Very well,» said Blade. «But you must send word to Klerus that I am no longer an enemy. That will keep him from trying to kill me. That way he can also protect me if the Pendari begin to suspect that I am no longer on their side. And finally, he can keep watch over me and in case I change my mind… well, he has his methods, I am sure.»