by Джеффри Лорд
«But there is a black pearl, or so the legend goes, and it is as big as a cabbage and lies at the bottom of the volcano pool. Lies there with the sword of Patmos, the very sword of he who founded this island in the dawn of time. All this is, you understand, only a story, master. A myth and a legend to be told to fools and children. Men of the world like ourselves, sire, will not believe in such drool. Please, master, could you leave off singing now? I cannot stand it on an empty belly.»
Blade glared at him, but broke off to whisper. «But this Ifzmia, this woman called the Pearl of Patmos-the black Pearl as you say-she does really exist? I must know for certain, Nob. For if she does exist, and has power as she must, we are going to make our way to her as soon as we can.
Blade began to caterwaul again. «1 dreamt 1 dwelt in.. «
Nob winced and whispered hastily. «Aye-she exists sure enough. In all her beauty and her years she exists. But she is a recluse, master, and never leaves her volcano. Her guard slay all who try to disturb her privacy. I swear by Juna’s golden ass, sire, that there is no way in which a mere man may come to look on Izmia. Unless-«
Fury exploded in the corridor outside their room. There was much shouting and a rush of feet and the clang of steel on steel. Men cursed and men screamed.
Blade left off singing and stared at the closed door. The skirmish in the hall was continuing and coming closer. He heard a familiar voice cry out a command: «That is enough of killing. Take the others prisoner lock them in a room until we are gone. Now hurry that door yonder.»
Blade looked at Nob, whose mouth was still open. «Unless what, Nob?»
Nob gulped. «Unless, master, Izmia sends for us.»
Blade stroked his jaw and eyed his man. «I think, Nob; that it has come to pass. We will know in a moment.»
The door was flung open. Edyrn, wearing battle dress and, sure enough, the black pearl on his shoulders, looked in at them. His sword was bloody. He bowed formally to Blade.
«I am glad to see you safe and well, sire, and glad that we meet again. I am sent to take you from this place to another. If you are ready? T4pre is no time to waste.»
Blade went to the stout idd and: shook his hand. He smiled. «It is I who am glad to see you, Edyrn. We go, I trust, to the volcano to see lzmia?»
Edyrn bowed again. His blue eyes were as cool and direct as ever, but his smile was tentative. TheЈe was a fresh dent in the steel helmet covering his flaxen pate and blood — on his body armor. Blade admitted;his mistake again. This was no boy, never mind his years-.this was a man and a warrior.
«We go to the Pearl,» said Edyrn, «but the long way around. Matters have taken course much faster than we anticipated, sire, and Patmos is in mortal peril. Hectoris cannot yet be ready to invade us-all our spies tell of his unpreparedness-yet he does make the attempt. A small party of Samostans landed on our coast not an hour gone. This must be seen to at once.»
For once Nob appeared awed. He followed Blade as they were escorted down the corridor and out of the building. Blood and bodies were strewn around the hallway and, somewhat to his sorrow, Blade saw that one of them was the Captain Osric who had taken him prisoner on the beach. Osric had died well enough, his dainty ceremonial sword through the throat of one of Edyrn’s big Soldiers. All the other dead were the effete troops whom Blade had so despised at sight.
Edyrn pointed with.his sword at: the dead Osric. «A former friend of mine, and a good man, but he chose a different path. He was coming for you, with his men, just as I came with mine. A near thing, sire.»
Blade’s glance flicked around the bloody hall. «tuna’s men? She sent Osric for me?» She had promised that she would not forsake him.
But Edym shook his head. «No. Not Juna. Osric loved her, and sometimes served her, but he was commissioned to the King and Queen. To Kador and Smyr. It was they who sent Osric for you, Sire Blade, not Juna. You are most fortunate that I came when I did, and that I brought soldiers with me and not courtiers.»
Blade’s head was spinning. Later he would sort it all out. Much later, if he had his way. Now ft was enough to step out into the sunset and smell the perfumed breeze again. And to think of food. Food without penthe.
Edyrn handed Blade a sword and belt. Blade hefted it with joy. It was a broadsword, longer and heavier than the one Juna had thrown into the sea. He buckled it on with a grin. Matters were beginning to shape to his liking at last.
«We will get you full armor later,» Edyrn explained. «Now we had best be gone into the countryside as soon as may be. I have but few men and a task to do, and I do not wish to encounter any more palace troops. In case you do not yet entirely understand, sire-there is civil war in Patmos this night.»
Blade had not understood; not at all. Civil war? Just another of a thousand things he did not understand, but he let his face show no.trace of his bewilderment.
«Civil war, Edyrn? Who fights?»
«The King and Queen have risen against Izmia, the Pearl of Patmos. They think victory certain because they know that the Pearl has only her Guard to protect her. But they choose a bad time for it-as I told you, Hectoris has chosen this very time to put his first troops ashore.»
Blade gave him a look. «Are you sure that it is coincidence? Is it such a bad time for them, for-Kador and Smyr? Is it not possible that they intend to betray Patmos from within? And what of Juna in all this? You seem reluctant to mention her, Edyrn. Why? Has Juna come to some harm?»
By now they had left the prison complex and were marching across far-stretching fields of loti. Cybar was behind them. Blade, glancing back, could see the shining silhouette of the palace against the sunset. It was quiet. None moved but themselves and a few Gray People working in the fields at late tasks.
Edym gave a command and his men flung themselves on the ground to rest. Nob looked at Blade, then did likewise. Edyrn took Blade to one side and spoke most respectfully.
«There is much I do not know, sire, and much I could not tell you ever if I did know. All that has happened has come suddenly and caught us unready.»
Blade sniffed at the perfumed air, bearing a slight tang of salt now, and listened to the omnipresent music from the kiosks; he watched the drugged Gray People toiling in the fields and thought it not at all strange that Patmos had been caught off balance. Unready, as Edyrn put it. Blade doubted if Patmos had ever been ready.
Edyrn continued, «Jung, as near as I know, is safe in the palace, though under arrest. There is much political in this that I cannot explain at the moment, sire.»
Blade nodded agreement and fondled his sword hilt. «I agree. Forget everything else but this force of Samostans. Where are they and in what strength? Who leads them? What are their intentions? Have we men enough to handle them?»
Edym gave him a strange smile. «Some of those questions I can answer and some I cannot. But first you should know, sire, that we were most fortunate and have taken a prisoner-a prisoner I am sure you would like to question.»
Blade scowled. His first elation was passing and he had hunger pains again. «No riddles, Edyrn! Who is this prisoner? And why is it so important that I must question him personally?»
Edym slapped his thigh and laughed. He called to his men, then bowed to Blade and said, «His name is Ptol, sire. We caught him seeking to sneak into Cybar in the dress of the Gray People. Are you answered, sire?»
Blade laughed and nodded. He was answered indeed. Ptol! As Nob would say-by the Goddess Juna’s golden assl Ptoll The fat little priest himself. The lisper. Caught trying to get into Cybar. Must have been heading straight for the palace. Blade could smell it. Another sell-out was in the making. Treason and treachery. How could he stop it? What could he and Edym and Nob and a few others do against the barbarian horde, the tough soldiers,
of Hectoris? Blade had seen the fall of Thyme-he knew the mettle of the Samostans.
So did the king and queen-thus the treachery. Hectoris had probably promised them their thrones if they aided in the overthrow of Izmia. Not t
hat he would keep his word when the need for them was past.
And Juna? What of her? Why should he, Blade, worry about.her? His own life was at stake.
Edyrn had waited patiently, unspeaking. Blade said, «Where is this Ptol?»
Edyrn smiled. «A mile from here, sire. Near our lookout point. Shall we go and have a look at him?»
Blade’s look was grim. «I care not so much to look at him, Edyrn, as to hear him speak. He lisps and he sprays spit this way and that, but I think there is much he can tell us.»
They were on the move again. Edyrn said, «He is defiant, sire. He knows that I am only a captain and he keeps demanding to be taken to a: higher up.»
«Does he, now?» Blade nodded. «I think we can arrange that.»
Edyrn went to the head of his troop. Blade fell back to be alone. Nob, seeing the expression on his face, gave him a wide berth.
Blade knew that the time had come. Time to move in and take command of the situation. He must be head man, must seize and use all the power he could, as speedily and effectively as he could. It was a tried and true technique and the only way to survive in Dimension X.
He stopped and drew the broadsword and examined it. The last rays of sun glinted red along the shining steel. He closed his great hand about the cold hilt until his knuckles were white.
Blood! So be it. Perhaps his own. But there was no other way-no other way in this strange world he must contrive to live in. Or die in.
CHAPTER 8
He came awake and was aware of warmth, of a fire flickering somewhere in the vast cavern. He thought the cavern floor trembled occasionally as there came a rumbling roar from afar, and sometimes over’ the drift of incense he caught the acrid odor of volcanic ash. He was only dreaming, of course, for he was safe in bed in his Dorset cottage. The real nightmare would not start until tomorrow-when he must journey to London and meet J and Lord L and go once again through the computer into Dimension X. Yes. It was a dream. And yet….
She came out of the shadows near the fire and stood looking at him. A giantess, as tall as Blade himself, and naked but for bits of cloth at breasts and pubis. Her hair was pure silver and her wide-spaced eyes were amber torches flaming in a face of such beauty and purity of feature that Blade could not comprehend it. This must be a dream, as palpable and fleshly as it seemed, for no such beauty existed in the real world, or ever would. He kept his eyes closed, but for slits enough to watch her, and saw her flesh glisten and glimmer and appear to change color as she drew nearer. He could not name her flesh color and it did not matter-tawny, brown, dark, yellow? All those, and yet none of those, and as she bent over him, her perfect breasts hanging to brush his chest, there was a flash of pale fire in that burnished flesh and for a moment she appeared to burn.
He became aware of the music then-where had he heard such music before? — and her deep voice blended with the music and there was the sweet oiled smell of her and the rake of her nipples on his bare chest.
«Blade? Richard Blade? Do you wake?»
He kept his eyes shut and his breathing regular. This was a dream, nothing more, and yet suppose it were not!
Suppose some wild impossible thing had happened andHer laugh was soft. «I think you feign, Richard Blade, but no matter. There is little time for us, for you must fight and I must go to meet my Weird, but there is yet time for you to pleasure me.»
She touched him and Blade knew it was no dream. This was reality. Just what reality, and how and why he had come to it, he did not know. But he did know what must have happened-he was in Dimension X. He had left Dorset and gone to London and had been put through the computer. And did not remember a thing about it.
The woman.had not spoken again. She was intent on the business of the moment. Blade kept his eyes tight shut and tried to think-if anyone could think at a time like this.
Her hands were soft and skillful and she crooned a little song as she fondled and stroked and caressed and kissed. At last she had him to her satisfaction and she threw a long slender leg over him, placed him to her exact wish, and straddling, came down with a little exhaled sigh. She was narrow and tight and moist and there seemed no end to her cavern.
It was surely a strange love-making and Blade, man of the world and of many dimensions, sensed that he would never see or know the like of this woman again. If indeed she was a woman. At the moment he was not entirely sure. For if he was once again in Dimension X, and he was sure that he must be, she ‘night be anything-fairy, demon, succubus or witch, Lilith, Thais, hag spirit in lush fagade, carnality incarnate, or mere female having a last orgasm before the well was dry.
There was no end to it. She bent over him, her breasts heavy on his face, and sank deeper on him with every thrust, her amber eyes wild as she adjusted and engulfed his flesh peg and her strong muscles sucked and milked at him until Blade was near to crying out. Yet he kept silence.
When at last she exploded it was as though the cavern trembled and moved, rocked and split, and Blade heard again a deep gut rumbling and thought he sniffed of brimstone. The woman gave a single loud cry and toppled from him to the floor, where she lay unmoving. He could not see her. He heard the strangled sobbing of her breath and, his mind in a whirl, only then realized that he had been holding back and had had no relief. No matter. It was but a dream after all. The phone would ring any moment now and J’s voice would summon and-Not so. He heard her stir and sigh at last. She looked at him and the amber eyes glowed and the white teeth sparkled. She patted his chest. «You still feign, Richard Blade. Good. Keep it so. I will bring you surcease. Izmia will never be a cheat.»
She left him for a moment and Blade heard the clink of metal or pottery, some chiming sound. He kept his eyes closed and tried to concentrate. Izmia? Izmia-surely he had heard that name before? Where and when? No use. He could not remember.
The woman came back. Blade peeked. She was carrying a small bowl, of some metal and handsomely chased, and she settled in beside him and had her hand on him before he realized what she was doing. When he did realize.there seemed little point in stopping her, even had he wanted to. Which he did not. Enjoy the dream-stubbornly he kept coming back to the theory that it was a dream-for soon enough he must awaken to harsh reality.
She held the bowl and her fingers teased and stroked him at last into a thundering emission. Blade writhed and groaned and saw that she judged expertly and spilled not a drop. He relaxed and watched as she put the bowl, covered now, on a ledge near the fire. When she returned she wore a swirling robe of purple that cloaked but did not disguise her figure. Blade sat up and stared into those amber eyes. Face it now. This was no dream. He was in Dimension X and could not even recall going to the Tower, much less going through Lord L’s computer. He had no idea how long he had been in this Dimension X, or any recall of what he had done, or not done, or had had done to him, since he had arrived in it. He decided to bluff a bit. He stroked his chin and was surprised at the growth of his beard. It was thick and had obviously been clipped and cared for-that meant some time in DX, at least several days, for he never cultivated a beard in Home Dimension.
«You are Izmia?»
She settled to the floor beside him, sitting on her feet, as lithe as a girl and as regal as a queen. She inclined her head gravely.
«I am Izmia to my friends and to certain of my class. To the common folk of Patmos, and to the Gray People, I am the Pearl of Patmos. Some call me the black Pearl, though as you can see my skin is of no certain color. We will speak later of the real black pearl, and of the great sword which, if you are he of the legend, you will recover from the pool and bring to me. But for now-what of your head? Does it pain you?»
Blade tried not to look startled. His head did hurt, now that she mentioned it. He put a hand to the crown of his skull and felt about in the thick dark hair until his fingers touched the sore spot.
«Ohhhhl»
Izmia pulled his head against her breasts and, pushing his hand away, probed with tender fingers. «Some of m
y people say that I have a healing touch. It can do no harm.»
Blade, cradled and coddled by this big woman, felt as secure and comfortable as a babe. He felt like drifting into sleep, his loins empty and spent, held and rocked in these magnificent aims. He fought the urge. He had amnesia, no doubt of it, and the bump — on his head was relevant.
He knew who he was, for which thank the gods of this strange land, whoever they were. Now he must find out what he had been doing and how long he had been doing it. The better part was silence. Let her talk and he learn. The less she knew of his amnesia the better. For some reason, call it vanity or sheer Bladian stubbornness, he did not wish to appear weak or in any way lacking in her eyes.
To get her started he asked, «How long have I been here? How long unconscious?»
«Three days this sunrise.»
He could not control his start. «That long?»
«Yes. You suffered a great buffet on the skull, so I am told by Edyrn and your. man, Nob. You were carried here as though sleeping and have not stirred until now, but for some moaning and strange words the like of which I have never heard.»
He nestled against those superb breasts. It was comfortable there and he did not want her to see his face.
«What words did I utter?»
His head felt better. Her fingers were stroking the dull pain away. He must have taken a hell of a blow, he thought, for it to knock his memory out of kilter like this. But there was no wound, only the knob, which meant that he must have been wearing armor, a helmet. Assuming that he had been in battle. But who was Edyrn? And who was Nob, his man? Whatever that meant.
«You cried out of a thing called jay and lordell. Many times. I wiped your.tears away and still you spoke of this jay and lordell in fear and, I thought, in anger. But that is all over now-they were but demons in your dreams and now are gone forever. You wake again and all has been done as you bid us do. The Samostan ship escaped, after you had made them pay dear for their audacity, and they will deliver your defiance to Hectoris. And the prisoner, Ptol, is tortured as you ordered and awaits your pleasure.»