by Джеффри Лорд
«No doubt,» Blade admitted. He had no wish to rile the little man further. «We will see.» He would not, he thought, be around long enough to go starving. When darkness came he might just be on his way. Surely, in a city the size of Cybar, or in the countryside around, he could find something to eat. Something that was not loaded with penthe.
610 had been trotting alongside, trying to keep up with Blade’s long stride. Now he dashed ahead and threw open an unlocked door. Blade could not, in fact, see a lock and guessed that the door was to afford privacy more than to contain him. 610 had mentioned women-was it possible that his roommate, for you could hardly call it 4 cell, was a-It was not possible. In fact it was quite impossible. Blade stared at the man on one of the two large beds and did not believe it: The man was nearly as large as Blade himself and was wearing the same white uniform and red sandals. He had been clipped and shorn and shaven and now, with the dirt missing, Blade could see the myriad scars. And the eye patch. That was the same.
The man stared back at Blade. He let out a bellow. «By Juna’s golden ass! It’s the master Blade himself. I will choke on one of Juna’s tits if it ain’t-Sire! I thought you. was dead and gone in that sewer-«
Blade gave him an enormous grin. He felt better already. Nob, as coarse and rough as he was, an admitted thief and murderer-as Blade had seen-and a son of the gutter, was yet like a breath of icy air in this cloying land of Patmos.
«Nob,» cried Blade. «Nob, you ruffianl I thought you were dead. I saw you fall beneath the horses, more afraid for your treasure than for your life. Nob-you welcome scum of the earth. It is good to see you.»
As he crossed to shake the man’s hand he saw 610 backing out of the room. 610 was wringing his hands and smirking a bit. Blade knew then that this was no accidental meeting, no coincidence. He and Nob had been thrown together intentionally. But why? And by whom?
Juna?
They shook hands and in that moment Blade reasserted his strength and his authority. Nob did not give up easily, but after a moment he grimaced and pulled his hand away.
— «Enough, master, enough! Crush my paw and I cannot serve you with it. Have done-I acknowledge you strongest.»
The door closed softly behind them. Nob leaned close to Blade, grinning and rubbing his hand, and nodded toward the music box high on one wall.
«Take care,» he whispered. «It looks innocent enough and I like the music, but they use it to listen as well. I know not how it is done, but air currents carry our voices to them. But ‘tis safe enough if you whisper.»
Blade nodded that he understood. He gazed deep into Nob’s one good eye and saw that it was clear and alert and as full of mischief as ever. They had not yet gotten to Nob with the penthe.
Nob must have guessed his thought, for he whispered, «Did you bring aught to eat, Sire Blade?» He rubbed his belly and cursed when Blade shook his head.
«I,» said Nob, «could eat-«And mentioned Juna in a most indelicate manner.
CHAPTER 7
The prison room was provided with a desk and ample writing materials and for a moment Blade thought the problem of communication was solved. Nob soon dashed that hope.
«I never learned my letters, sire. Old Nob never had time for that nonsense-he was too busy trying to keep his belly full.»
Blade glanced at the music box. They could not go on whispering forever. The very fact itself would make them suspect. Then he remembered the unlocked door and cursed himself for a fool. This was such an upside-down, topsy-turvy prison that a man could not think straight in it. He prodded Nob toward the door. It was as simple as taking a stroll.
No effort was made to stop them as they left the building and strolled about the well-kempt grounds. As soon as they were away from any possible listener Blade commanded Nob to talk. That worthy, with his brokentoothed grin, was only too ready. He adjusted his eye patch with a flair and stroked his jutting smooth-shaven jaw. His rugged features, now shorn of facial hair, revealed many old scars and craters the latter attributed by Nob to a bad. case of pox in his childhood:
His right eye glinting with surly amusement, Nob said, x «I caught a hoof on the back of the sconce, master, and it ° must have made me look like a deader for sure-when I ” come to the Samostans was all gone and I had the square to myself.»
Nob screwed up his ugly visage and shrugged. «That were a odd feeling, master. You was gone into the sewer and me all alone there with the dead.»
Blade shook his head. «All of them? Every Thyrnian soldier died?»
«Aye. Unless, mind you, there was others playing dead lice me. But old Nob didn’t stay to see. I found a few of me jewels and gold pieces, not all, for those thieving Samostans had taken them, and I crawled my way through the piles of corpses and out the gate into the salt marshes. There was naught to do but make for the coast, and that I ‘~ did. I fell in with a party of riff-raff like meself, you might say, and together we made the coast in three days. Once there-«
They stopped to watch some men tossing an oblong bladder about. Blade gave the man a sharp glance. «And then?»
«Well, sire, we had what amounted to a falling out.» Nob did not meet Blade’s eye. «There was some difference of mind, sire, on how to divide up the treasure and arms we had, er, acquired, and about how many could go in the little boat.»
«You had a boat?»
«In a way, sire. One of the other-other rogues knew g where one was hid. I think he must have been a smuggler, sire.» Nob sounded so virtuous that Blade had trouble suppressing a grin. He studied Nob for a moment, then nodded. «You say you had a quarrel?» Blade looked away lest he smile. «What came of it?»
Nob stroked his lantern jaw. «You might say, sire, that I came of it. I tried to reason with them, sire, but they would have naught of it. In the end-well, master, I swear that I buried them decently and said proper prayers over them. By Juna’s blonde fleece I did! I seen them off all right and proper.»
Blade believed him. And dismissed it with a nod. «And you came to Patmos in the little boat? And how to prison?»
Nob muttered gloomily. «Aye, straight to, prison. I had no chance at all, sire. The coast was alive with troops and watchers. At first I thought to fight, for you have seen what the soldiers are like, sire, and I could have eaten a score for breakfast-which reminds me, ‘master, when are you going to find us something to eat?»
Blade, if he had acquired a good right hand and a servant, had also acquired a responsibility. As they circled a fountain and headed back toward the buildings he said, «Why did you not eat the meal in prison, Nob?»
The man’s good right eye glittered and he smote a horny fist into his palm. «For the same reason you did not, master. My brains are not much, but they are mine and so far are not addled. I would keep them so. They put the drug penthe in the food here, to keep men happy and from thinking, like the salt they use in Thyrnian prisons to keep a man’s cock limp. In the end it is the same-a man is. not a man!»
They strode a few paces in silence. Blade said, «How did you chance to know of the drug, Nob? You have been in Patmos before?»
For a long time Nob did not answer. Blade began to think that he was not going to answer when he finally cleared his throat and growled: «I have a feeling, master; now that we are twice met, that we are cast to each other for worse or better. So I must trust you, it seems.»
Blade met his eye. «I will not betray your trust, Nob. But what you tell must be of your own free will. The future is what interests me, not your past.»
«Aye. I know that. But I will tell you nonetheless-I have been in Patmos before now. I served in the army, which is how I come to know how poor it is, and if I am recognized I will be branded a deserter.»
Blade was not too much surprised at this intelligence. «What is the penalty for desertion here? Certainly not a violent punishment?»
«Nay. But a miserable one, sire. They force feed you the penthe and exile you to an isle for the rest of your life.»
Nob, aft
er a moment, and with a scowl and in a tone of horror, added, «An isle without women, sire!»
Blade nodded in sympathy. In this he and Nob were on the same level-it was an inhuman punishment.
They passed a group of elderly men sitting on the benches. They did not lift their eyes as Blade and Nob strolled past. Nob grimaced with his blackened stumps. «You see, master? Accept the drug and you become like that.»
Blade inclined his head. Nob was right. Such apathy and inertia served to make a man little better than a corpse. It was death in life.
Nob said, «No half measures with me, master. I have told you that I am a deserter from the army of Patmosso know also that I am likewise a deserter from the Samostan army.» Nob did not try to hide his fear, nor the shudder that ran through his big body.
«That is one reason why I lagged in the fighting, sire. I always had thought to escape, and if not that I had intent to kill myself. For I am known to many officers in the army of Samos, and the penalty there for desertion is to be bound to a wheel and have your bones slowly broken with iron bars.»
Blade halted and, chin in hand, regarded his newly acquired man. He was pleased with this latest information-even a private soldier could tell him things about the Samostan army that he did not know at present-but he nonetheless kept his expression grim.
«So, Nob, you are three times a deserter? You admit this-from Patmos, from Samos, and lastly from Thyrne. That is the truth of it?»
Nob gave him a hideous grim with his broken stubs, and scratched at his newly cut hair, but there was a glint of anxiety in his good right eye. «In the main, sire, if you say it. But about Thyrne there might be a dispute of minds. I was pressed into Thyrnian service. I never joined of my free will.»
«And yet you are a Thyrnian? Born there?»
«Aye, sire. Born there.» Nob thrust his jaw at Blade and his eye hardened. «I showed you the gutter, if you remember. My birth bed.»
They walked on toward the building where they were quartered. Blade kept silent. He began to see a little method in all this madness, to discern a thread of reason and logic, of cause and effect, running through the seemingly ‘mindless tapestry of events. Or he thought he did.
They halted again in a deserted plaza of lawn and flowers. There was no music box nearby, nor any inmates or Gray People. Blade fixed his man with a hard stare.
«I care nothing what you have done or been, Nob. We must have an understanding there. As we must have about the future-if you cast your lot with me I will expect loyalty and good service. I will accept nothing less and will punish for lack of it. I, in my turn, will bind myself to you, to protect and aid you and see to your comfort and well being. Think well and hard before you make a bargain, Nob, for I am not an easy forgiver. And the way will be hard-I know little of Patmos and will make mistakes. A battle is coming and you know the odds against us, for surely our lives ride in the balance, and if they break your bones with iron they will do worse. to me. Know you of the priest, Ptol?»
Nob spat. That was answer enough.
Blade smiled coldly and went on, «I humiliated Ptol, snatched Juna from him, and cut off his hand into the bargain. Now he has gone over to Hectoris-not a far journey, I suspect-and I doubt that he sleeps much for pain and dreams of revenge. But enough of that-I tell you so you will know that my life is as much risked as your own. Now, when you came to Patmos, in your little boat, how was it that you were brought to this very same prison as I was? For I think we were meant to meet here.»
Nob rubbed his pocked face and looked stupidly at Blade for a moment. Obviously the thought had not occurred to him. At last he shook his head. «I do not know, sire. Your mind runs faster than mine. I had not thought that we met but by accident and-«
Blade was remembering various conversations that had taken place on his way through the salt marshes with
Edyrn and the little.party. He had not spoken much to Juna, who had been keeping herself to herself; he had. spoken a great deal to the boy, Edyrn. And Edym, as Blade now knew, was Juna’s man.
Man, he thought a little wryly, was the word. He had made a mistake in taking Edyrn for a mere callow stripling. A mistake of which Edyrn had taken full advantage. Blade had spoken of Nob, more to pass the time than anything else, and to make the miserable wet camps more bearable. It had seemed natural enough at the time, Blade thought now, but he was still a fool. Prattling on about his narrow escape in Thyme, about his adventures, with Edyrn soaking in every word and reporting it to Juna later.
It only required confirmation and a moment later Blade had it. Nob-said that a young officer resembling Edyrn had indeed interviewed him soon after his arrest.
«Aye,» mumbled Nob, searching his memory. «A short and bandy legged young cock he were, with blue eyes and yellow hair. Had an honest look to him, though that means nothing.»
«How was he dressed? How did he act? Think, ‘man! Was he in command? Did he show authority or was he only a courier?»
«Oh, aye, he was in command right enough.» Nob waggled his long jaw. «Had a file of soldiers to his back. Ummnim-that’s queer, now that I recall-«
«What was queer, man? Stop your maundering and tell me clearly what happened.»
Blade had no doubt that it was Edym being described. An Edyrn not so young and guileless as he had posed. An officer in the army of Patmos. And Juna’s man all the way-or was he?
«The soldiers!» Nob smote a great fist into his palm. «That was different-they looked like real soldiers, clad in old leather and iron, and they carried weapons like they knew what they were for. How could that have slipped my mind? They were real soldiers, not like these nambies we’ve to do with, or I would not have gone along so easily.,
Blade thought that over for a moment. «They brought you straight here? To the prison?»
«Aye. And in silence, too. It was forbidden to speak.»
«And they mentioned nothing of me? This young officer-he is a man called Edyrn-he said nothing to you of me? No hint that I would come and join you in this prison?»
Nob shook his head. «None, ‘master. I was treated well enough, but they told me nothing.»
Blade kept after him. «How was this Edyrn dressed? What rank did he display?» Nob was like a sponge. The information was there but you had to squeeze him to get it.
Nob put a finger to his hairy nostrils. «Aye-that is something else comes back to me. This younker officer were dressed in battle armor, like I said, and wore rank of a captain in the Pearl’s own guard. I am sure, now, though I have seen it but once before. On his shoulders he wore the insigne of the black Pearl of Patmos. Of Izmia herself. She who lives in the volcano.»
They were passing a last bench before the entrance to the building. Blade sat down abruptly. It was coming too fast. He held up a hand to silence Nob.
There was no great mystery as to how Edyrn had come to Patmos so much before Blade-he had left earlier and he must have made the trip many times before, he would have known the currents and winds and the most direct route. The men he commanded might have been waiting for him. He had carried out Juna’s orders and had Blade met and taken to prison-no great mystery to that, either-but before that he had encountered Nob-a chance meeting? — and at that time he had been in the uniform of a guardsman of the Pearl. Just who did Edym serveJuna or the Pearl of Patmos? Or both? And what possible purpose could Edyrn serve in throwing Blade and Nob together? And on whose orders?
Blade shrugged and gave it up for the moment. He looked at Nob and smiled. «Let us get back to the room and sleep a time. I have a feeling that we will need it. And I have another feeling-something is going to happen.»
Nob rubbed his belly. «Will it have to do with food, master?»
«I know not. Just as I do not know if it will be for good or ill, but there is something afoot. Come, Nob. Before we fall asleep I wish to know all I can about this old woman who is called Pearl of Patmos. She who lives in a volcano? Is she black, then?»
They saw no one as they
returned to their room. The music, still sweet and insidious, filled the room with languorous chords. Nob jerked his head at the music box and grimaced. «It never stops, sire. How can we outwit it?»
Blade motioned to a corner. «I will sing. You whisper in my ear. Tell me of this old lady who is said to live in a volcano, this old woman who Juna claims as grandmother.»
Blade began to sing. For some reason he could remember only a tune from Balfe, a thing his first nanny had often played on the piano and as often had sung to young Blade to lull him to sleep. He had not even thought of the song for years, now he sang it very badly and off key: «1 dreamt 1 dwelt in marble halls. .»
Nob was staring at him as though he were sure Blade had gone daft. Blade scowled and jammed an elbow into his ribs. Surely his. singing was not that bad! And it did not matter-he had no intention of giving a concert, he wished to hear about this strange old lady of the volcano. This Pearl of Patmos-black Pearl? — in whom resided the real power on this island, and was Blade’s best chance of survival.
Nob still stared, his jaw agape. Blade nudged him again and whispered, «Speak, man! What of this Izmia?»
Nob’s coarse whisper came like the croaking of a giant frog. «I know not how you came by this information, master, but you have surely been talking to a liar or a fool. Izmia, the Pearl, may be a grandmother-I have no cause to doubt that-but if so she is such a grandmother as I would wed in my dreams. For the truth is, sire, that Izmia has no agel Others have age, not the Pearl. She remains young when others wither and die. As for colorshe is called black because, I wot, she is not exactly white. Nor brown nor yellow nor green. Her flesh, so they say,
for I have never seen her with this eye, is the color of flame. They say her skin changes color like a strange lizard that sailors tell of, though I have never believed that tale.