by Джеффри Лорд
Blade spent a good part of his time during the next few days wandering around Kano, inspecting the fighters. He discovered that Mirdon was quite right. With enough food and ammunition, the city could hold out for any length of time. Unfortunately, it would be out of both within a month or two.
Those who knew this were carefully keeping quiet. Everyone else seemed cheerfully confident that the coming of the Champion meant certain victory, although nobody seemed very clear about how that victory was to come about.
Blade was able to do a few useful things. He started regular firing practice and inspection of weapons among the musketeers. He organized mobile reserves of cavalry, infantry riding in carts, and horse-drawn artillery. He did a good many other things that would improve the odds if the Raufi attacked the city's walls. What he couldn't do was anything that would make the Raufi launch their attack. That, as Mirdon said, would take a miracle.
While Blade was at work as a general, Katerina was working even harder on her «intelligence» assignment-watching Jormin and finding out what he might be up to. Either she was having no luck, or she was being very closemouthed about what she was learning. She would vanish for the better part of a day, then return, obviously exhausted, but unwilling, to say anything about where she'd been or what she'd done.
Blade wasn't worried about betrayal now. What bothered him was that something was making Katerina violate one of the first principles of intelligence work: pass on what you learn as fast as you learn it. If she vanished now, whatever she might have learned about Jormin would vanish with her.
The thought of her vanishing and dying unpleasantly made him uncomfortable. Being uncomfortable about that made him feel even worse. He could not afford to care as much about Katerina's safety as he was doing, or to let her mean as much to him as she had come to. If he went much farther down that road, she would see what was happening to him. Then, if she was still a clearheaded professional, she would find some way to take advantage of what Blade felt. He would not yet call what he felt «love.» But by any name it was not what he should be feeling, and it had him more and more worried as the days went by.
Then Katerina vanished for two solid days, and when she returned this time Blade knew where he and everyone else stood.
She came back at dawn. Blade was sitting in an armchair by the empty bed. Sometimes he looked at the bed, more often he sipped from a large cup of spiced brandy on the table by the bed. He realized that he was beginning to drink more than he should. From past experience he knew this meant he was trying to hide from himself the fact that he was under a particularly intense strain.
He drank again and saw that outside the window the sky was turning pale. The campfires of the Raufi no longer shone so brightly in the darkness.
A faint knocking on the door made him start. It was Katerina's signal-a one-two-one combination-but weaker and more uncertain than he'd ever heard it. He put down his cup, picked up the sword leaning against his chair, went to the door and opened it. Katerina nearly collapsed into Blade's arms. He held her out at arm's length for a moment, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw her clearly.
Her hair was a tangled mess. A large chunk of it was missing on one side, hauled out by the roots. One eye was swollen half-shut. Both cheeks, one ear, and the side of her neck showed deep purple bruises. Along the jawline was a swollen, red patch that looked like the burn from a hot iron. Her lips were bruised and swollen so that he could barely make out any of the words she was murmuring.
«Jormin hopes-with Jade Masters-let in Raufi,» was all he caught.
After that Blade stopped listening. He realized Katerina had found what she was looking for-Jormin's plans. He also realized that she'd paid a particularly horrible price for the- information. She'd submitted to the demands of a sadistic madman and had barely escaped with her life. Now he understood why she'd been unwilling to talk about her work.
Blade stripped off Katerina's clothes and put her to bed. The rest of her body was as bad as her face, or worse. Whip marks, burns, bruises-there wasn't anything that Jormin's twisted ingenuity had left out.
It seemed rather a pity that Jormin would have to die quickly. At that moment Blade would quite cheerfully have inflicted on the Second Consecrated everything he'd inflicted on Katerina, and much more besides. He found himself picking up a heavy-barreled musket from the corner, gripping it, and bending it slowly but steadily into a complete circle.
Then Blade's head cleared, his rage faded, and he went to work. He called two of the servants, sending one for a doctor and another for Tyan. He summoned a soldier and sent him off to Mirdon. He got out a map of Kano and a roster of the army and began making plans.
Katerina was asleep now. Occasionally she whimpered, little sounds, painfully weak and helpless. After a little while one battered hand-two of the nails were missing-crept out from under the blankets. Blade took it gently and felt it squeeze his, clinging with desperate strength.
He was sitting like that, her hand in his, when the doctor arrived.
The next morning Blade and Katerina sat down to confer with Tyan and Mirdon.
Jormin's plan was simple, according to Katerina. The Jade Masters would lend the Second Consecrated a dozen strong workmen and a dozen good fighters. He would lead all of them to a point on the outer wall where an old drainage tunnel had been blocked off after the building of the Gardens of Stam. The workers would take out the brickwork at either end of the tunnel while the fighters stood guard. Everyone would be properly disguised, with forged passes and everything else necessary. The resources of the Jade Masters would make all that easy.
Once the tunnel was open, fifty Raufi concealed just outside the wall would slip through it. With surprise on their side, they could easily capture the Eighth Gate, only two hundred yards away.
Then two thousand mounted Raufi would charge in. Some would spread out through the Gardens of Stain, sowing panic and death among the troops camped there. Others would ride straight to the poorly guarded gates of the inner city and seize them. The whole Raufi army would then launch a general attack, and with luck dawn would see Kano fallen forever. Whether Jormin, the Jade Masters, or Dahrad Bin Saffar would rule over the ruins was not important.
«A good plan,» said Mirdon. «Jormin is mad, but he is also cunning. Tyan spoke more truly than he knew when he said that the Champion's woman would lend us wisdom. Without what you have done, Katerina, and the pain you have endured, I doubt if we could have discovered this until too late.»
Normally Tyan would have rebuked anyone taking his words for their own use like that. Instead he let Mirdon's remarks pass without comment. Blade looked from the First Consecrated to the Commander and back again. Seen side by side, they looked even more alike than he'd noticed at first.
Blade unfolded his map of the city and pointed out the Eighth Gate. «There's open ground all around for a considerable distance, and level roads. This means we'll have to be careful to hide everyone well. Otherwise Jormin will get wind of our plans and change his. We'll have one chance to trap him and his Raufi allies, and I want to make it a good one.»
Blade talked for half an hour, with only minor interruptions. Finally he folded up the map and said, «I think everything is decided now?» Mirdon nodded. «Good. Then with your leave I shall take Katerina back to our chambers. She really shouldn't be out of bed.»
«Gods, no,» said Mirdon. «Is there any way she can stay out of this affair altogether? I would gladly sacrifice a hundred good men to spare her that.»
Katerina shook her head «I would be ashamed to have a hundred men die to spare me a little danger. Besides, it would do no good even if I was willing. Jormin will be as suspicious as a mouse who smells a cat. If I do not keep my promise to him, he will certainly become even more suspicious. As the Champion has said, we shall have only one chance. We can leave out nothing.»
They were back in their own chambers before Blade said anything more.
«Well, Kat.» That had become his pe
t name for her in his own mind. This was the first time he'd used it aloud to her.
«Well what?»
«Do you think there's only a little danger in playing bait to lead Jormin into our trap?»
She sighed and shook her head. «No. I am not a fool.»
«I didn't think you were. You're-«Blade cut himself off. He had an overpowering impulse to put into words what she was coming to mean to him. He fought it down. Instead he finished, rather lamely, «You're running more risks than I'm happy about. I'll be glad when this is over.»
«So will I.» Then she took him firmly by the hand and led him to the bed. At first he protested, suggesting they shouldn't try lovemaking now, when all her wounds were fresh and still hurting. She silenced his objections, first with her lips, then with her body. In the end they made love longer and more passionately than ever before. Blade sensed a quality of desperation in Katerina, as though she had a premonition of her own death and was determined to clutch vigorously at life while it lasted.
As Katerina fell asleep curled up beside him, Blade could not keep an odd thought out of his mind. Was she coming to care for him, and fighting her impulses just as hard as he was his?
That was not only an odd thought. It was a slightly unpleasant one. At this rate they could wind up making each other perfectly miserable, without much chance of saying even a few words to ease the strain!
Blade sighed. He hadn't been in such a damnably awkward predicament with a woman since he was at Oxford. Unfortunately, there was absolutely nothing to be done about it until after the battle, and damned little to be done even then.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Gardens of Stam were as dark as the belly of Chaos, thought Jormin. He could barely see his own men following him toward the outer wall. That darkness was a favor from the gods, though. It would be just as hard for anyone to see him and the men.
The soldiers were no more alert than usual tonight, either. They'd challenged the little party only once. Even then the forged pass got it through without any delay or awkward questions.
The party left the graveled path and slipped across smooth, damp grass toward the base of the wall. Jormin sighted the large kaso tree that was the most important marker. He paced off twenty steps on a line with the tree, then turned toward the wall. He could see it now-a faint discoloration in the great earth mound where the tunnel had once bored through it. He nodded to the workmen. They scurried forward with their picks and shovels and pry bars and went to work. The Jade Masters' guards spread out in a half-circle, hands on swords. They all had muskets as well, but Jormin's orders were strict-no shooting until the Raufi joined them.
Katerina came up to stand beside Jormin. She wore a plain white robe belted in at the waist, and Jormin knew she wore nothing under it. The thought made him grin.
He noticed that she was wearing a short sword slung on her belt. «You are armed,» he whispered. «Why?»
«I could not be sure that you would meet me on time. I had to be ready to protect myself if some drunken soldier came along.»
«Ah. I understand.» She could not be planning treachery, or even thinking of it. He was certain of that. She was too hungry for what he and he alone could give, what he had already given her. She would do her best to see that nothing went wrong. He could rely on her now and for always, even when they sat together in the High Chamber of the House of the Consecrated and ordered out the victims for public execution!
The workmen were making entirely too much noise for Jormin's peace of mind. He winced at every thud of a falling brick or clink of a tool. The inner end of the tunnel was open now, wide enough for a man to pass through. Jormin saw the workers dropping down into the ditch one by one and squeezing through the hole in the brickwork. Several of the guards followed them. The men could work faster at the outer end of the tunnel. They would be well underground and in less danger of being overheard, thank the gods for that! Jormin licked dry lips and squeezed Katerina's hand, his nails digging into her palms until he heard a little whimper of satisfied pain.
How long he and the remaining guards waited, Jormin couldn't even guess. He only knew that no one came by, no one challenged them, no one seemed to notice that anything unusual was going on. He also knew that the waiting eventually came to an end. First the workmen came scurrying out of the hole, fast enough to scrape skin and tear clothing on jagged edges of brick. Then the guards followed, moving just as fast, their swords sheathed. Jormin stepped forward, ready to rebuke them for their nervousness and wondering what was bothering them.
Then the answer to his question climbed out of the hole, with the first of the Raufi behind him. Like the rest of his men the leader wore a black robe and black sandals. Even his weapons were blackened so that they reflected no light. His hood was shoved back on his head, revealing a high forehead and a hard, bony face, with restless, seeking eyes and an aggressively hooked nose. The chin was concealed behind an unmistakable spade beard.
It was Dahrad Bin Saffar, supreme war chief of the Raufi, come to personally lead his men in the stroke that would destroy Kano forever.
In the room at the top of the western tower of the Eighth Gate Blade paced restlessly back and forth. He could not pace very far. The room was packed with more than forty armed men and all their weapons, as well as a mass of ropes and rope ladders. The room was dark and stifling, because all the shutters were closed and locked to keep any light or sound from escaping. The air was heavy with the smells of leather, oiled metal, and human sweat.
Eventually Blade forced himself to sit down. It was his plan, and he ought to at least look as if he had complete confidence in it! Otherwise, he would end up making all the men following him nervous, from Mirdon on down. He mentally ran over the trap they were setting for Jormin again. He couldn't think of anything he'd left out, or anything the Raufi could do he didn't have some way to meet. Now if they could only go into action at the right time-
Footsteps sounded on the spiral stairs in one corner of the tower. A helmeted head popped up into the room. «Just got the word. They're inside and coming this way.»
«Good,» said Blade. «How many?»
«Oh, sixty, they guess, lord.»
Blade nodded and the head disappeared. Men began tightening sword belts, loading muskets and pistols, tying extra knots in their climbing ropes.
Sixty men. That would be Jormin's crew, plus the Raufi. There were forty men in the top room of each of the gate towers. That should be enough.
Dahrad Bin Saffar had a high reputation for courtliness and poetic skill with words. These were gifts the Raufi valued, and they honored him more highly because of them.
Tonight, though, he was neither courtly nor poetic. He sharply gestured the kneeling Jormin to rise.
«Are your men all here?»
«Yes, Noble B-«
«Any sign of extra guards?»
«None.»
«Good. We will do what we have planned. Take the lead, Jormin.»
They headed toward the Eighth Gate at a swift, silent trot. Jormin kept wanting to break into a run, but each time his feet quickened, he heard a voice behind him.
«Slower, man, slower. Hurry, hurry has no blessing from Jannah, and the noise hurry causes still less.» They covered the two hundred yards to the Eighth Gate in only a few minutes, although to Jormin it seemed more like a few hours.
The Raufi went swiftly into action. Dahrad must have rehearsed each man over and over again until he could do his part blindfolded. Some fanned out into the Gardens of Stam, to lie in wait with pistols and swords for anyone who might come to interrupt the party. Others began climbing the vines that grew up the inside of the wall, knives in their teeth, to deal with the men mounting guard on top. Still others waited under cover, ready to storm into the towers themselves as soon as the alarm was given. Then they would open the gates, and that would be the signal for the waiting Raufi to come thundering in.
Jormin hoped everything would go well. He badly wanted those t
wo thousand Raufi around him, between him and the vengeance of the Kanoans. He looked at Katerina. She was nervously trying to look in all directions at once and fingering the hilt of her sword. She had even more reason than he did for wanting protection. She was not only betraying Kano, she was betraying the Champion of the Gods. The penalty for that would be horrible.
A faint, choked cry sounded high above. Then something sailed through the air and landed with a thud almost at Jormin's feet. It was the body of a soldier from the walls, throat slit from ear to ear. Jormin noticed, with an uneasiness in his stomach, that the man had also been castrated. He looked upward and saw the heads of three Raufi appearing over the railing on top of the wall.
Then from the very top of the western tower, orange flame stabbed out as a light cannon went off. Two of the Raufi on the wall flew high into the air, shredded into bloody rags by a blast of grapeshot. The third lurched, toppled over the railing, and struck the ground almost beside Jormin. His head wasn't human any more, it was a smashed mess of bone and brains.
Jormin went on looking upward because he couldn't do anything else. Sheer terror was freezing every one of his muscles and joints. So he saw clearly the shutters in the windows high in the two towers of the Eighth Gate fly open. He saw ropes and ladders snake out of those windows and men come scrambling down those ropes and ladders. Finally he saw the Champion of the Gods himself come sliding down one of those ropes. It seemed to him that the Champion's eyes glowed fiercely red in the darkness, and that a golden light played about his hair. That was the sight that unfroze Jormin's joints and muscles. With a scream of terror he turned to run.
Blade hit the ground as lightly as a cat, then dropped flat, rolling to confuse anybody aiming at him. A bullet whistled over his head and spannnnggged off the wall. The Rauf who'd fired dashed in, throwing his useless pistol aside and raising his sword for a slash at Blade.