by Джеффри Лорд
Instead of a roaring explosion, all Blade heard was a great craaak of splitting wood. Then he heard a tremendous crashing and crunching and was hurled violently forward as Avenger plowed into the flagship.
Blade slid several feet forward on his belly, picking up splinters in every piece of skin that wasn’t protected by his armor. Above him the flagship’s bowsprit and Avenger’s foremast were hopelessly tangled together. Then with a popping of breaking ropes and a crackling of wood the mast leaned gently forward and came down across the enemy’s foc’sle. Suddenly there was a perfect bridge from Avenger onto the deck of Kul-Nam’s flagship-or the other way around.
Blade wasted no time worrying about why the barrel hadn’t gone off. A glancing blow, wet powder, who knew? In any case, there was Prince Durouman, waving his sword and mace, leaping onto the mast and scrambling up it as nimbly as a monkey. He was going to get his chance at a hand-to-hand grapple aboard the Emperor’s flagship after all.
This might be folly, but it was a folly the prince could not be left to commit alone. Blade sprang to his feet. Turning aft, he shouted to the men around the siege engine, «Dump the barrels-now!» The deck of a galley locked in close combat with Kul-Nam’s flagship was no place for nearly a ton of powder and sulphur. Then Blade drew his own sword, flourished it toward the foc’sle that loomed high overhead, and roared in a voice that carried all over both ships:
«BOARDERS AWAY! FOLLOW ME!»
There were those aboard Avenger who said afterward that Blade went onto the enemy’s deck in a single leap or flew up the mast without his feet touching it. Certainly he had no memory of his feet touching anything from the moment he left Avenger’s deck to the moment he landed on the enemy ship.
There were seventy or eighty eunuchs and armed sailors on the flagship’s upper deck. Blade ran up to join Prince Durouman; then the two leaders leaped down from the foc’sle almost together and went to work.
The eunuchs and the sailors fought well because they were fighting for their lives, but they could not fight well enough to stand against men who were more than half berserk, who did not care about living or dying, only about killing anyone who wore Kul-Nam’s colors and lifted a weapon to defend him. They did not fight at all against Blade and Prince Durouman, who strode forward shoulder to shoulder, their swords never still, carving a path through their opponents like a mowing machine through ripe wheat.
Behind the leaders Avenger’s musketeers and archers crowded the foc’sle. They fired and shot, reloaded and recocked their weapons, fired and shot again. Their bullets and bolts sailed over the leaders’ heads into the rear ranks of the defenders. Man by man the sailors and the eunuchs fell away; rank by rank they dissolved under the attack from front and rear together.
Blade saw a sailor in front of him hesitate, turn away, and make a dash for the ship’s side. He had one leg over the bulwarks, ready to leap, when a spear suddenly drove into his back. He looked down at the sharp silver point thrusting out through his chest, coughed up a huge mass of blood, then fell back onto the deck.
Blade’s eyes leaped from the fallen sailor to the red tassel on the end of the spear, and from there to the squat figure in the gilded armor standing in the cabin door at the far end of the main deck. Another spear flashed across the deck, this one aimed at Prince Durouman’s face. The prince leaped to one side and took the spear in his shoulder. It drove through his armor, slamming him back up against the foremast. Before Kul-Nam could throw his last spear, Blade was charging him, hoping to strike him down before he could draw his sword.
Kul-Nam was too fast. The sword seemed to leap from its scabbard, then split the air inches from Blade’s nose. The force of Kul-Nam’s swing took the sword around in a great arc, biting through the seasoned wood of the railing as if it were balsa. Blade realized that Kul-Nam was wielding a sword that would go through his armor and his body too if the Emperor had room to swing it with all his strength. The Emperor did.
Blade knew he had to close in to live. He drew his short sword and the commando knife. Then he charged again.
Kul-Nam drove Blade back three times, scraping the point of his sword across Blade’s armor twice, slashing his cheek the third time. Then Kul-Nam’s own lust to kill overcame him at last, and he tried to close.
His sword flashed in from Blade’s left, and Blade’s short sword met it. The two weapons came together with a terrible clang and Kul-Nam’s sword bit halfway through Blade’s. For a moment the Emperor’s weapon was locked and immobilized.
Blade didn’t dare move his sword. That would have risked snapping it off and freeing Kul-Nam’s sword. Instead he held his left arm steady and pivoted on his left foot. His booted right foot crashed into Kul-Nam’s face. The Emperor’s brute strength kept him on his feet, but he was not seeing too clearly. Blade let go of his short sword and pivoted again. His left hand closed on the Emperor’s pigtail where it hung out from under his helmet and jerked hard. Then Blade’s right hand struck, thrusting the commando knife up under Kul-Nam’s jaw into the Emperor’s brain. Kul-Nam died on his feet, his eyes staring into Blade’s as the life went out of them.
Blade pulled his knife free and let Kul-Nam’s body fall to the deck with a thud. Then he turned. Prince Durouman was leaning against the foremast, his face twisted as he slowly worked the spear out of his shoulder. Finally it came free. He threw it to the deck and his eyes shifted to Blade-and to Kul-Nam sprawled at Blade’s feet. His breath went out of him in a great sigh. For a moment it seemed that he would fall to the deck.
Somehow Prince Durouman found the strength to stay on his feet. It was Blade who went down onto the deck-down on one knee, the commando knife raised, wanting to shout with triumph. Instead he was silent as he gave Prince Durouman the salute due the Emperor of Saram.
Chapter 27
Kul-Nam was not the last man in the two fleets to die. It took a while to hoist Prince Durouman’s standard to the flagship’s masthead. It took a while after that for every one to see it and realize what it meant. It took an even longer time to convince everyone aboard the ships of Saram that they could surrender safely. Most expected to have their throats cut or be pitched overboard the moment they laid down their arms.
No one gave such promises to the Corps of Eunuchs. It would have been a waste of breath, and anyone who even suggested it would probably have been heaved overboard, along with most of the corps. Like Avenger’s former slavemasters, they were no great loss. They had been Kul-Nam’s personal terror weapon, and now that Kul-Nam was dead there was nothing for them to do except follow their master.
There was another man whom Blade and Prince Durouman would cheerfully have dealt with in the same way-the treacherous commandant of Parine. He had not only told Kul-Nam of the princess’s moves against him, thus provoking the attack. He had also revealed all the secrets and weaknesses of Parine’s fortifications, thus helping to make the attack a success.
Emass was frank about what should be done with the commandant. «We should take him back to Parine and there torture him to death the same way Princess Tarassa died.»
Blade shook his head. «As much as I want his blood, I don’t want it that way. There should be no more torture or painful executions under Prince-ah, Emperor-Durouman rule. That will make a great and welcome contrast with Kul-Nam.» They would not have understood his suggesting that torture was wrong-it was that sort of Dimension.
In any case, the question turned out to be meaningless. They discovered that the commandant had fallen in the attack on Parine, along with nearly five thousand more of Kul-Nam’s men. He had made the attack on Parine a success, but he had not made it easy, nor had he lived to collect his hoped-for reward of becoming Prince of Parine. Along with the five thousand men had gone twenty galleys, five sailing ships, and nearly half of Kul-Nam’s store of ammunition.
Two large groups of men who had spent most of the day trying to kill each other did not become sworn comrades overnight. But everyone was too exhausted and too relieved that
Kul-Nam was dead to bear anyone any ill will. By morning everyone had slept enough to realize that a new and perhaps better time for all of them was dawning with the new day. The battered fleets set sail for Garis with everyone in much better spirits.
The voyage to Garis took three days. The arrival of the combined fleets and the news they brought first stunned the people, then set off wild rejoicing. Word spread rapidly through Saram, and the rejoicing steadily mounted. By the time Emperor Durouman rode inland toward his capital, his progress had the air of a triumphal procession. Blade rode with him, hailed as the mightiest of the mighty and the champion of champions, a savior to all, second only to the new Emperor himself.
The only thing that marred the procession was the number of bodies that littered the streets and road-Kul-Nam’s informers or officials, his police or merely those who had supported him too loudly in the past and hadn’t turned their colors fast enough. Durouman didn’t much care for the sight.
Emass was delighted. «Your Magnificence,» he kept saying, «this is a great stroke of good fortune. These people are your enemies, whom you would have had to destroy sooner or later. Here they are, dying by the thousands without you having to lift a finger or take the smallest portion of the blame.»
Blade shook his head. «Some of them may be your enemies,» he said. «But I suspect that a great many personal feuds are also being settled. You would be wise to bring the killing to a halt as quickly as possible.»
Durouman threw back his head and roared with laughter. «Blade, Emass-what am I going to do if you two stay around and keep giving me advice? You always make exactly opposite suggestions.»
«I do not know about Emass,» said Blade, «but you will not have to worry about me much longer. I have carried out the mission my king gave me-«
«And done a good deal more besides,» put in Durouman.
«True. But I have no more business here in Saram. I will be gathering a company of stout fighters before long, then riding south.»
«Are you sure you would not rather wait until we have fought the Steppemen?» said Durouman. «I would be glad of your sword beside mine again. Also, your journey will be safer when the Steppemen are broken.»
«I would be happy to join you,» said Blade. «But I was sent on this journey with strict orders from my king. He is not Kul-Nam. He will not have my head or title or estates if I do not return swiftly. He will merely not think me wise, and in England, to be thought unwise is to be thought dishonorable.»
«I will say no more,» said Durouman. «Is there anything I may do to speed you on your way?»
«There are things that will ease my mind,» said Blade. «First, there is-«
«Avenger’s crew,» put in Durouman.
«Yes.»
«If it were possible, I would make every one of them a nobleman,» said Durouman earnestly. «That cannot be. I can swear solemnly that no man who fought under you aboard your ship will go hungry or homeless as long as he lives and I and my sons rule in Saram.»
Blade smiled. «Very good. Second, there is-«
«Haleen?» said Durouman.
Blade laughed loudly. «Has the Eagle crown given you the power to read other men’s thoughts, my friend?»
«No. It is merely that you obviously care for her, and she for you. Why should you not therefore wish her in good hands?»
«True. I take it that you have a plan for her?»
«Yes. Princess Tarassa’s son will need a nurse for some years, until he is old enough to be placed in the care of men. I was thinking of making her principal nurse to the young prince. She seems a very honest and wise young woman.»
«She is.» Wise enough, in fact, so that by the time the young prince no longer needed a nurse, Haleen would have the money and position to do whatever she pleased. Blade suspected that she would end up marrying at least a wealthy merchant’s heir, if not a nobleman.
«Is there anything else I can do for those you must leave behind?»
«No,» said Blade sadly. «There are no others. Too many of those who have been my comrades in this land are dead.»
Haleen was waiting for him that night when he returned to the small palace that was his temporary home in the capital. He kissed her, but she wriggled gently out of his embrace and stood at arms’ length, looking at him with an impish grin on her face.
«No, Prince Blade. Not until you have bathed. I am going to be a lady of some rank now, or so I have heard.»
«That is true.»
«Then I shall have in my bed no man who has not bathed first.» She raised one slim arm and pointed toward the bath chamber. «Go, my prince. Go and bathe.»
«Will you join me if I do?»
«In time, in time.»
That time was short. Five minutes after Blade climbed into the great golden bathtub, the chamber door opened and Haleen entered. She wore a pink silk robe that neither revealed nor clung but was somehow all the more enticing for that. Blade reached out toward her. She let him grasp her by one hand, then reached up with the other and undid the clasp of the robe. It whispered to the floor. Nude and lovely, she turned toward him.
Then she noticed the commando knife and belt hanging over one of the projecting ornaments on the edge of the tub. Her face clouded.
«You bathe with your knife?»
«I would rather not be without a weapon ready to hand until all the people who might want to send me after Kul-Nam are no longer dangerous.»
«I am not unarmed, Blade,» she said, putting her hands behind her head and giving her body a sensuous wiggle.
«No. But your weapons are no danger to my life.»
«You are that confident of your powers, Blade?»
«Are you planning to put them to a test?»
«I am.» Haleen put one hand on the edge of the tub and got ready to climb in. Then suddenly she jerked the hand back as if the tub had turned red-hot.
«Blade-what is the matter?» Her voice was half a gasp, half a scream.
«No-it’s-«Blade managed to grunt. Then he could not have spoken a word to save his life. The pain was in his head, the pain that told him the time had come to return to Home Dimension. It tore at him, roaring in a way he’d never felt before. He saw nothing, felt nothing except the pain.
It eased for a moment, long enough for him to see an open-mouthed and staring Haleen, already fading away. The tub was still solid around him, the water hot against his skin, the knife and belt still hooked solidly to the ornament.
He had a moment to be aware of these things. He had another moment to raise a hand in farewell to Haleen. Then the pain crashed down on him again, and he was aware of nothing else.
Chapter 28
J’s telephone rang shrilly. He pushed the file he was examining to one side and picked up the phone. Lord Leighton’s voice sounded in his ear.
«Good evening, J. Trust I’m not disturbing you.»
«Not at all, Leighton, not at all.» That was truer than it usually was. Even if it had been entirely untrue, J would still have said it. Leighton hadn’t changed a bit in all the time they’d been working together-he would have interrupted God if the impulse came over him. But he tried to do it politely now.
«Very good, very good. I’m afraid we’re facing a rather serious problem with the underground complex.»
J winced. «Indeed? What sort of a problem?»
«You remember that Richard came back this time in a golden bathtub filled with water?»
J certainly did. The golden tub had been appraised at thirty thousand pounds by MI6’s confidential experts on such matters. That would be a useful sum of money. But Leighton didn’t sound too happy about the gold. Of course! The water.
«I gather the water was a bit dangerous?»
«It certainly was. Fortunately, the tub landed upright. But imagine what would have happened if it had overturned! We’d have blown circuits all over the complex and probably electrocuted ourselves and Richard as well. I’m afraid there’s no alternative, J. We’ll just have to
move everything out of the underground complex to another site that’s less vulnerable to flooding.»
For a moment J’s mouth hung open as he struggled for both words and self-control. «What?» he began to explode. «Do you realize that will cost at least seven million-!» Then he broke off. Something in Leighton’s voice wasn’t quite what it should be for an announcement like this. He took several deep breaths, then spoke again.
«Leighton-is there by any chance a sly grin on your face at this moment?»
An unmistakable chuckle came over the wire. «I’m rather afraid there is, J. I couldn’t resist the impulse.»
J resisted an impulse to tell the scientist exactly what he thought of the joke and another impulse to take a taxi to the man’s apartment and smartly box his ears in the best schoolboy manner. When both impulses were firmly under control, he went on.
«Never mind the impulses. What’s the real situation?»
«Well, if that tub had gone over it could have been rather expensive-we’d very likely have to replace the booth and the chair. But as far as the rest is concerned, I had ninety-five out of a hundred chances of cutting all circuits before any really serious damage was done.»
«What about the odd five chances?»
«I would like an automatic monitor hooked into the circuit controls. It would be activated as soon as the return sequence is completed and Richard is safely back with us and go into action if there were any flood or fire or other anomaly. That will cost some money, but it will be rather closer to seven thousand pounds than to seven million.»
«That sounds within reason,» said J. He could not help adding, «Even if you aren’t.» The response to that was another chuckle and then a click as Leighton hung up.
J sighed. As if there weren’t enough problems already! Now Leighton was developing a taste for practical jokes.
Then J reminded himself to keep things in proportion. The situation could be far worse. Consider.