by Джеффри Лорд
By casually questioning men who returned from patrols into Dreamer territory, Blade heard that Dreamer fighters seemed to be more numerous than ever before. Some parts of Dreamer territory where Waker gangs had previously been able to roam unmolested were no longer safe by day or night. There were even reports of the Dreamers building a fort in the southern part of the city. The Dreamers were apparently aware of the shortage of time, in spite of the recent self-inflicted slaughter among the Wakers. Were they still working hard to make themselves strong? Were they working hard enough? Could they work hard enough? Blade did not know. He also knew that he could do nothing to make the Dreamers work faster and harder. Besides, he had other worries.
Krog had considered at length the problem of what was to be done with the hundred-odd Green Tower slaves who had fled from their masters during the battle. Four days after the battle he announced that all Green Tower slaves who had come to the Blue Eyes of their own free will would become free men and women of the people. The men would be trained as fighters. The women would learn the arts and skills of free women. War Master Blade was, to have special charge of the exslaves to see that their instruction was proper and their treatment good.
Blade admired the humanity of Krog’s decision. But he felt that the Blue Eye leader had not thought through his decision well enough before announcing it. Most of the slaves were broken in body and spirit by years of brutality from their former masters. It would be many more years before they could learn either the skills or the pride of freemen. So it would be a long time before they would add to the Blue Eyes’ depleted strength. The Blue Eyes’ fighters and free women, who had dreamed of the pleasure and labor that could be wrung from this horde of new slaves, were disappointed. Disappointed and angry. Blade did not expect that it would be an easy job to keep the exslaves from being mistreated. Nor did he expect to be a popular figure for doing so. A week after Krog had led the People of the Blue Eye to the greatest victory in all their history, there was greater and more bitter muttering against his leadership than there had been in the past five years.
Blade liked even less the fact that Halda was at the heart of much of this muttering. And at the heart of her reasons was her distrust of him. She saw him elevated to the position of protector of a hundred new members of the gang. For her that was seeing him elevated in power and influence to her own level, or even above it. If he won the loyalty of that hundred, he would be an invincible rival for Krog’s successor if battle or disease should carry her father off. Blade knew that Halda was quite right. But he had no intention of slacking off in the job which Krog had given him. Now he not only had responsibilities to Narlena but responsibilities to the hundred poor wretches who had fled to the Blue Eyes for safety.
Those new responsibilities brought him an immense amount of new work. More often than not he returned to his chamber at night too exhausted to do anything but drop down beside Halda and fall directly to sleep. Whether she resented this or not, he was not sure. He suspected she did, but between fatigue and his growing revulsion for her, he could not have done anything else.
Along with the extra work came something far more welcome-extra freedom of movement. Before the battle Krog had been just sufficiently uncertain of Blade’s loyalty to assign him a pair of guards. Now these were removed. The Blue Eyes were too short of fighting men to spare any watch-dogging for a man who had proved his loyalty to the gang as completely as even the suspicious Krog could expect. Blade was no longer half a leader, half a prisoner. He was Krog’s trusted right hand, and he could give orders with Krog’s voice and do what he pleased.
Among the things Blade decided to do with his newfound freedom was to see Narlena. Nevertheless, such an undertaking needed careful planning. There was no longer Krog’s distrust to worry about. But there was certainly Halda’s. Eventually the day came when Narlena was out on a slave working party a few streets west of the courtyard. It was Krog’s idea to start cleaning up some of the nearby buildings and enclose them with a wall.
As Blade passed by, sword swinging at his hip, Narlena moaned and began staggering about and holding her stomach. The two fighters guarding the slaves moved toward her with expressions on their faces that Blade didn’t like at all. He strode forward and raised his hand and voice together.
«Hold! That is the slave Narlena, is it not?»
The guards nodded.
«She is of particular value to Halda. The lady would not be pleased if anything happened to her. I will take her back to the tower myself.» He reached out his hand and Narlena lurched toward and up against him. Half-carrying her as she staggered along, he retreated out of sight around the corner of the nearest building.
Once Blade was sure that the guards were out of both sight and earshot, he nodded to Narlena. She straightened as much as her gaunt and weary body would allow and looked into Blade’s face as if she could not believe it was real. One hand, small to begin with and now thin and grimed from many weeks of heavy labor, came up and stroked his cheek. He let his hand rest lightly on her hair, cut close now and caked with filth and sweat, and said, «You are doing well, Narlena.» The lightness was in his voice, not his heart. He wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t break down if he showed too much sympathy. And they had too much to talk about in the short time he could spend taking her back to the courtyard.
She bit her lip for a moment to stop its trembling and then replied with an equally forced lightness, «Not as well as you are, Blade.» Then her face froze as cold and hard as a glacier. «I want to stay alive so that I can kill Halda someday» The flare in her eyes was savage.
Blade nodded. An incredible change had come over this Dreamer girl during her captivity to make her say such a thing. She was no longer weak or interested in keeping life at a distance. She was no longer a Dreamer, at least not a Dreamer of the kind that had fled to their vaults a century before.
«Good,» he said. «But first you are going to have to escape and warn Yekran and Erlik of Krog’s plans. Do you know the way back to your vault from here?»
«Yes. But I cannot escape now. If I escape when you are taking me back to the tower, Halda and even Krog will suspect you and kill you. They-«
«They will not kill me. I am too important to Krog’s plans. And he-«
«He can do nothing if Halda chooses to strike silently and by surprise. She keeps silence before you because you can understand her and be warned by what she might say. But the slaves are only animals to her. She says things about you in front of them, dreadful things. Not in front of me, but the other slaves talk and I hear them.»
Again Blade nodded, but reluctantly. The idea of passing up a perfect chance for Narlena’s escape simply to avoid risk to himself was revolting. But how great was the risk? He remembered that «accidental» spear during the battle and had to admit that Narlena might be right.
«All right,» he said finally. «But you must remember that I cannot get away until you do. Halda will have you tortured to death otherwise. You must escape as soon as you possibly can. I will have one of the new people bring you extra food and water, so that you will get some of your strength back.»
«Yes,» she said in a small voice. «Do that. But be careful. Please.» And she put her arms around him. He held her for a minute. Then he told her to act sick again. Once more staggering as though she could barely stand in spite of Blade’s support, they made their way down the streets to the gate and the courtyard. The gate guards waved them in without stopping, for they recognized Blade. But as they crossed the courtyard Blade looked up and saw Halda’s face appear in a window on the third floor. Even from a distance it was easy to detect the suspicion and hostility that spread across her face. Blade knew that he had now offered the challenge to Halda. It was now a race between Narlena’s escaping and Halda’s taking up that challenge.
Blade spent the next week in a continuous fever of worry and anticipation; worry that Halda would strike, anticipation of finding a moment for Narlena’s escape. Three of the women he t
rusted most among the new people were given the job of sneaking extra food to Narlena. Even from a distance he saw that she was losing some of the wild-animal gauntness of the slaves. He did his own work with more energy and enthusiasm than ever. Krog would have no cause for suspicion and discontent, and be himself would have every excuse for collapsing limply into bed at night. As the days passed without a word or a move from Halda, Blade began to wonder, then hope, and finally suspect that she might allow what he was doing for Narlena to pass unnoticed. Perhaps she no longer cared.
Another damp, hot night that seemed to be all too common during the Puran summer had settled over the city. Lightning flared dimly in the clouds to the north, promising rain and silhouetting the towers of the dead city. Blade was fighting to keep from yawning as Krog rambled on about his visions of the future of the People of the Blue Eye. Not that Krog’s visions were so dull or so unpleasant. But Blade had heard them all before. At the end of a long day of training the new fighters every muscle and nerve in his body was crying plaintively for rest.
His muscles and nerves snapped fully alert as the curtains of the chamber whipped open. Halda and four fighters Blade recognized as members of her faction burst into the chamber. Each pair of fighters was carrying a woman bound hand and foot. Blade recognized one of the exslaves who had been feeding Narlena and then with a cold chill of fear in his stomach, Narlena herself.
Halda’s hand chopped downward like a sword blade. The fighters dropped their burdens facedown on the floor. Blade heard the girl whimper in pain. Narlena was silent even when Halda kicked her in the ribs where she lay. Then Halda stepped forward toward her father and glowered at him.
«Father, this slave has been getting extra food-and the other slave has been bringing it-«
«She is not a slave but a free woman of the People of the Blue Eye,» snapped Krog. «Release her at once.» His hand was on his sword hilt, and so was Blade’s. For a moment Halda seemed ready to launch herself at her own father, with the four fighters at her back taking on Blade. The tension in the room hung like a smelly fog. Then the moment passed, and Halda and the fighters stepped aside as Krog went over to the woman, cut her bonds, and raised her to her feet. He left Narlena lying where she had fallen. Then he turned to Halda. «Now, daughter, what do you wish to tell me?»
Halda took a deep breath to get her temper firmly under control. Then she said in the clipped tones of a fighter, «The woman was bringing food to Narlena. She said that Blade had asked her to do it. She did it because of his good treatment of the ones who were slaves.» Even now Halda balked at calling the woman one of the People.
«Did you do this, Blade?» asked Krog without raising his voice.
«I did,» Blade replied, keeping his voice at exactly the same calm level. «It seemed to me that Halda was ordering Narlena deliberately starved. I did not wish to provoke a quarrel between you and your daughter by complaining of it to you. I decided to see that Narlena got the food she needed this way.» He looked at Krog’s face, hoping to see belief but not really expecting it. This story was the best he could think up. But he hardly expected it to be good enough to fool Krog.
It did not. The skepticism Blade feared appeared on the leader’s face, and he stood in a frowning silence for a while. Finally he said, «Blade, the Dreamer slaves are no concern of yours. I have said this before. Why did you concern yourself with this one?»
Before Blade could reply, Halda broke in, her voice shrill with anger. «I say it was because he plans to escape and wanted to get this girl out before he did, so that she could not be punished. He cared for her when they were Dreamers together, and he cares for her still. Ask her!»
Krog’s frown deepened. «Blade, is this true? No, you wouldn’t tell the truth, I think. We will have to get it out of the slave.» He bent down and grasped Narlena by the hair, pulling her head up so that he could look into her face. Blade saw that her lip was trickling blood. «Narlena-«he was using her name at least «-did you and the war master have plans to escape together?»
«No, Master. Why should we?» Narlena was giving a perfect impression of honest bewilderment at a preposterous accusation.
Krog let Narlena’s head drop back to the floor. «We shall have to question her. Halda, you are most expert at this. Go and get what you will need, and be quick about it!» Blade was very slightly relieved to see an expression of distaste on Krog’s face. Only enough, however, to keep him from vomiting on the spot or killing both Krog and Halda and making a desperate run for it. Krog’s humanity had its limits. When it was a question of finding out about a threat to his power, he would do anything to anybody. Blade knew that «anybody» included himself. Or at least it certainly would include himself if Narlena broke under the torture.
Halda tore out of the room at a dead run and was back so quickly that she had obviously run both ways. In her arms was a sickening collection of gleaming instruments whose purpose was unmistakable. She dropped them with a clatter on the floor in clear view of Narlena and knelt down and began rummaging through them. The naked blood-lust in her face kept on threatening Blade’s control of both his stomach and temper.
He turned to Krog. «Am I needed for this, Krog? I still have things to do elsewhere this evening.»
Krog looked at him for a moment in silence, and Blade’s nerves tightened. Had he said too much, confirmed Krog’s suspicions? Would Krog’s next words be an order to the guards to seize him? If they were, there was going to be a great deal of blood on the floor of this chamber in a short time. None of it would be Narlena’s if he could help it.
Krog shook his head slowly. «Stay here, Blade. You have not seen what happens to a person who betrays me. I think it is time you did so.» From the granite-hard set of the leader’s jaw Blade knew that any further protests or comments by him would be useless and dangerous.
At a barked order from Halda the guards moved to cut Narlena’s bonds and flipped her over on her back. Halda knelt down beside the girl, knife in hand, and with a quick slash that took no care to avoid the skin, slashed through her kilt and jerked it away. This left Narlena nude with a thin line oozing red along the front of her left thigh.
«Hold her,» snapped Halda, and the four guards moved again, each one seizing hold of one of Narlena’s limbs and spread-eagling her on the floor, They pulled so hard that Narlena’s contorted face told Blade that her arms and legs were almost being yanked out of their sockets. He swallowed, reminding himself that it was also important-even if a great deal easier-for him to keep a straight face and give no hints of his feelings that Krog or Halda could pounce on. He was ten times more nervous now than he had been before the battle in the courtyard. And this time there would be no chance to work off the strain by fast action.
Halda knelt beside Narlena again, this time with a large needle glinting in one hand. She held it up in front of her victim’s eyes, moved it back and forth over Narlena’s body and suddenly jabbed. Narlena gasped, and Blade saw her eyes close briefly as the needle went in. It came out wet with blood.
«Well, slave, are you going to tell me why Blade was sending you food now?» Halda’s voice was unsteady. She was obviously aroused.
«I told you already,» said Narlena in a small voice. «Liar,» said Halda coldly. then in a shriek, «Liar!» The needle jabbed in again. This time Narlena screamed.
Halda was relentless with her instruments-the needle, for what seemed like hours, until Narlena’s body was covered with little spots of blood as though she had been attacked by a swarm of leeches; other needles, thrust deep under her fingernails and toenails; pincers and hot irons; something Blade was never able to remember clearly that Halda clamped over Narlena’s groin, making her writhe and heave so that it took all the strength of the four sweating guards to hold her down. She did not scream because she had long since lost her voice. Only a rasping, hissing sound came out of her raw throat.
Blade’s own throat was as dry as dust, too. But he knew that his stomach would rebel against even a mug of
water. Only by keeping his hands clamped across his chest was he able to keep them from moving toward the hilt of his sword.
Krog’s face showed no expression during all the torture, although his eyes occasionally flickered in Blade’s direction. Each time that happened, Blade managed to meet Krog’s gaze with an unflinching, expressionless face. It became an effort after a while. Blade was not sure how much longer he could keep himself under control when Halda finally stood up, her body glazed with sweat and her eyes as dull as if she herself had been tortured. She shook her head.
«Either the slave is telling the truth or she will die before she betrays Blade. There is nothing more I can do.» She turned to the guards. «Take the slave back to the slave quarters.» The four hefted Narlena and went out. Halda lingered for a moment behind them, turning to Blade with eyes still filled with hatred and distrust as well as the glaze of fatigue. «Why, Blade, why? What could she give you that I could not, that so great a bond could grow up between you? Why?» The last why was almost a scream. Gasping, her breasts heaving, she stumbled out through the curtain leaving Krog and Blade alone.
Krog’s expression now changed for the first time in hours. A slow thin smile spread across his face. Blade wished he could return that smile. Krog said quietly, «Much of this I did because if I had refused it, Halda would have gone among her faction. She would have said I was getting soft, that I was giving in to you like a weak old man. And then her faction might have made great trouble for both of us. And for Narlena as well.» He paused. «And some of it I did because I was not sure what you were doing. I did suspect disloyalty. I advise you not to make me suspect it again.» He nodded in dismissal. Blade went out.
Chapter Sixteen
In spite of the punishment she had taken, Narlena healed more quickly than Blade would have believed possible or had dared hope. This was thoroughly good news, for it meant they could make their escape sooner.