The Jade Warrior

by Jeffrey Lord

  "I think," he said at last, "that we must let Blade have his way in this, Captain. I - I can understand his feelings. It will be a little more dangerous to let Sadda live, this I admit, but surely when you are leader of all the Mongs you will be able to watch and control one small woman? Anyway the plan is set and firmed and we cannot change it now."

  Pain came to Blade's aid. The Captain lay with his eyes closed, his face twitching and sweat beading on his high forehead. Yet when he opened his eyes it was to glare at Blade.

  "So be it, then. But be warned, Sir Blade. I make her your responsibility. If we succeed tonight I mean to make you my second in command. There will be heavy burdens and now you add to them. If Sadda causes trouble, plots, escapes, or in any way seeks to disrupt my rule I will have your head for it. I warn you in good time. Mark it well!" Blade bowed slightly. "I mark it, Captain. I accept the responsibility for Sadda. Until the child is born. Then I will gladly turn her back to you."

  Some of the old wolfishness was in Rahstum's grimace. "You do that, Sir Blade."

  They talked for another half-hour. Outside, the camp grew ever more riotous. Now and again a woman screamed and the drunken laughter never ceased.

  The dwarf would not tell Blade how he intended to poison the Khad.

  Blade said: "You are taster to him, Morpho. You must taste of everything he eats. How will you poison him?"

  The dwarf shook his head. "I will. But I cannot tell you. I have not told the Captain. If things should go wrong and you are taken and tortured I would not have you know this secret. Then it will be good for another day."

  Blade had to let it go at that. They made final plans and, at the last moment of parting, pledged themselves one to the other. Blade went back to his wagon and put on his best finery.

  The great black tent of the Khad was heavily guarded by warriors. They were a mixed group, half the Khad's men and half Rahstum's. That was all right. At a signal from Rahstum each of his men was to put a sword to the throat of one of Khad's men and demand surrender.

  The Khad's men were drinking bross. The Captain's men were not. Blade saluted the subcaptain on duty and entered the tent, to be immediately caught up in the wild swirl of music and dancing and drunken laughter. The tent sweltered with the heat of closely packed bodies and the heady fumes of bross made him gasp and hold his breath for a moment. A man could get drunk just by breathing!

  Torches, garish and smoking, cast a smudged yellow light over the scene. Blacks passed in the crowd with bowls of bross. Scattered about were platters of fruits and fine foods taken from the ruined city. In one corner the musicians, their number augmented tonight, brayed and drummed and plucked and chimed in a frenzy of wanton music.

  Six women were dancing before the thrones of the Khad and his sister. Their oiled bodies glinted and writhed in the light. They wore only skimps of cloth around and between their legs. They waited for a cue from the music, then faced each other, pairing off, and began to make symbolic love, woman to woman, dark burnished skin to dark burnished skin. Twelve well-formed breasts wiggled and bounced and trembled. The audience roared drunken approval.

  Blade waited near the entrance. Against his better judgment he had promised Baber that he might be here tonight. The old man had pleaded hard and Blade had at last given in. Baber was his slave, after all, and so had some right there if the master permitted. Blade shrugged. Small matter. The die was cast now. Baber could not affect the outcome one way or the other.

  Sadda had not yet seen him. He watched her peering around, glancing at the entrance from time to time. Blade made himself small and moved behind a group of drunken officers. Khad's men.

  Soon there was altercation outside and he heard Baber's voice raised in profane demand. A moment later the old fellow came wheeling in on his cart, propelling himself with the sticks. He spotted Blade immediately and rolled to him. Blade grinned down at the legless man.

  "You are finely turned out, old man. But you do not smell much like a warrior. What did you do - tub yourself in perfume?"

  Baber was trimmed and clipped and arrayed in his best. He smoothed hair over his bald spot and winked up at Blade. "For an occasion like this a man must look his best. Even a slave. How soon, Blade?"

  "Sir Blade, you rascal. Have you not heard?"

  "I had not. But I am glad. Could it be that I will not be a slave much longer?"

  "That could be. Now quiet - and keep your eyes and ears open."

  Morpho entered the tent, carrying a small box of melons packed in snow that had been brought in that afternoon. The dwarf did not glance at them. He went to the dais and took his usual place to the Khad's right. After a moment he took his colored balls from a pocket and began to twirl them absently. The dancers were just finishing their simulated orgy in a sensuous blare of music.

  The music soared to a great clashing finale. The dancers ran off through a side entrance in the tent.

  Blade waited. Fretting a bit now. He was not to move until Rahstum was carried in. He peered through the crowd. Sadda was watching the door now with no attempt to hide her annoyance. She moved impatiently and clamped white teeth over her scarlet nether lip.

  Rahstum was carried in. The crowd parted and four of his men carried the pallet through art aisle to a prominent place near the cleared space before the dais.

  Khad Tambur stood up, painfully, swaying, his inclined back thrusting him forward nearly parallel with the floor. Blade doubted that he felt pain now. He was swimming in bross.

  The Khad made a sign and trumpets called from the orchestra. Silence now, but for whispering and coughing and drunken chuckles. The Khad pointed to Rahstum.

  "I give you greetings, my Captain. And I give you all my thanks. And your men, and mine, I also thank. This day you taught the Caths a lesson they will never forget. I regret your grave wound. What say the surgeons?"

  The Captain, raising himself a trifle on the pallet, held his bandaged stub aloft for all to see.

  "The surgeons, great Khad, are angry because they could not cut it off themselves. They curse the Cath that did it, thus robbing them of practice - which they sorely need."

  A great roar of laughter went up. The Khad smiled, his eye glittering and rolling.

  When the laughter died Rahstum said: "It was only a hand, gracious One. A small thing to offer my Khad."

  That was Blade's cue. Rahstum had judged perfectly how the scene would fall out, even to the Khad's words and his own reply. Blade moved toward the dais. The people stepped aside for him and the whispering began.

  Blade came into the open space, floored with rugs, and approached the two thrones. The music had stopped. Sadda's eyes were soft as she watched him draw near. She raised a hand in greeting.

  Blade bowed first to the Khad, then to Sadda, then straightened and faced the Scourge of the Universe.

  "My thanks, great One, for allowing me to be here. It is splendid, but not as great as your splendor, gracious Lord;.

  I respected the Caths before as soldiers, but no more. Today I learned. You are the Scourge of the Universe!"

  The Khad leaned toward him. His face twitched and his eye seemed to spin and flash. Blade sensed that he had not even heard the cloying flattery. The Khad was fighting for self-control.

  But when the great one spoke his voice was low, harsh, with a neutrality that must have cost him dear. At first he spoke for Blade's ear alone.

  "You were fortunate today, Sir Blade. Most fortunate. Twice. Or was it three times?"

  Blade gave him back stare for stare. "Twice, Lord. Only twice." He saw it now. The Khad was going to bide his time. Play out the farce and settle with Blade at a better time.

  The Khad gnawed at his lip with bad teeth. "I thank you as I thank the others, Sir Blade. But I will do more than thank in mere words - you are Sir Blade once more, so cast off that golden collar."

  At last. Blade unfastened the collar and flung it away from him. One of the black eunuchs pounced on it.

  The Khad held up
a hand for silence. This time he waited until the crowd obeyed. Then: "We have seen how Sir Blade fought today. We have seen his valor in our cause. We have also noted his luck." The eye glinted at Blade and the thin mouth smiled.

  "We Mongs know the value of luck, of good fortune. This man has it. So I permit his marriage to my sister, in due time and with great ceremony, and I make him an officer of mine. Of mine! Responsible solely to me. As my officer he shall have whatever he desires - of my treasure, anything. And he shall sit on this dais, beside my sister, and be consort to her even before they are married. You have heard me."

  Two blacks came running forward with another throne. It was put down beside Sadda and the Khad motioned to Blade.

  "You see, Sir Blade, how I keep my word."

  There was a roar of approval from the gathering. For the first time Blade knew just how popular he was at the moment. It would not last, but for the moment he had status. He had displayed that day the two things that Mongs worshiped above all else - courage and fighting ability.

  Blade took his seat beside Sadda to a buzz of excited approval. She thanked her brother, then leaned to put a hand on Blade's. Her eyes were bright with excitement and anticipation.

  "Soon now. Remember what you must do," she whispered.

  The Khad waved a hand at the dwarf. "A melon, fool. All this ceremony dries my throat and makes me hungry." He took a huge quaff of brass from a bowl beside him.

  Blade watched the dwarf. How? How was it going to be done?

  A black slave came and whispered something into the Khad's ear. He nodded and waved the slave away.

  Morpho selected a plump melon from the snow-filled box. He whipped a knife from his belt and carefully sliced it. With a little bow he extended half of it to the Khad.

  In the past Blade had noted that the Khad did not always question his food. At times, especially when he was drinking heavily, he would forget, or did not bother, so secure did he deem himself.

  Blade was so tense his muscles ached. Sadda was looking at him rather strangely.

  The Khad raised the melon to his mouth, then hesitated. A sly look flitted over his ravaged face and he rolled his eye at the little man. He half laughed as he said, "You taste first, fool. Do I not pay you to taste? So taste!"

  Morpho held up the half melon in his hand. The crowd was watching now, once more silent.

  The half melon in Morpho's hand spoke in a tiny voice: "Eat me, fool. Eat me. So the Khad can eat my brother. Such nonsense!"

  The melon laughed squeakily. "I was whole when I came. My skin was not broken. Everyone saw you cut me. Does the Khad fear a wizard, then, who can poison a melon without breaking the skin? What nonsense. Eat me. Eat me!"

  The dwarf took a huge bite out of the melon. The crowd roared with laughter in which the Khad joined. He sank his teeth into his slice of melon, chewed and swallowed.

  Blade felt the sweat creeping out on his forehead. Morpho had said it would take a little time.

  Sadda leaned to him, her hand on his knee. "What is it, my Blade? You look so strange."

  The Khad took another bite of melon, swallowed it, and stood up. He raised a hand and the gathering fell silent once more.

  "I have more news," said the Khad. "Concerning myself. I, your ruler,, am also to be married soon. I have at last found the moon of my desire. My heart is smitten after all these years."

  He clapped his hands sharply. "Bring in the bride of Khad Tambur. Bring her who will soon share the throne of the Ruler of the World."

  The crowd sighed and hushed. The Khad smiled in triumph at having so surprised and caught them off guard. He raised his bowl of bross and drank, his eyes feral over the rim. Of all things in the world they had not expected this.

  Only Sadda was not surprised. Blade saw that and also saw the flutter of malice and hate and anticipation in her eyes. Her gaze eluded his and followed the blacks. She formed the words with her red lips. "Soon now. Be ready."

  The blacks came back. Between them, led by one of them, was a slim little figure, a girl. A child-girl. She was richly arrayed, her dark hair piled and caught on her head with scarlet combs. She was beautiful. Blade's heart stopped beating. Too late now, but he understood.

  The girl stumbled and one of the black slaves caught her. She peered around, her eyes blank, and she raised a hand and said, her voice chiming in the dead silence:

  "My father? Are you here, my father? I do not like this place. I am afraid, my father." Nantee.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The dwarf uttered a cry of rage and anguish and rushed at Sadda.

  Blade was frozen and moved too late. Sadda half turned on the throne, wide-eyed in shock and surprise, as Morpho buried his knife under her left breast. She screamed once then, and stared down in disbelief at the hilt protruding from that golden flesh.

  She fell slowly forward onto the rugs before the dais.

  The next moment, while shock and horror held the crowd, the Khad fell beside his sister. He gasped and clawed at his throat as terrible convulsions racked his body.

  Blade came to life. The blacks were the first to leap at Morpho. Blade flung the throne at them and they went down in a heap. Blade drew his sword as he bellowed at the dwarf.

  "Behind me - behind me!"

  Rahstum had whipped a sword from under the covers of his pallet and was brandishing it and roaring at the top of his voice.

  "To me! To Rahstum! Obey your orders - to me, to me!"

  It was whirling, sweating, screaming, fighting pandemonium. Some of the Khad's men tried to fight and were cut down. Two of them rushed at the dwarf, sheltering behind Blade, and he killed one and badly wounded another.

  Blade moved quickly back to guard the little man, seeing that it was not going to be much of a fight after all.

  Rahstum had planned too well.

  There was a flurry of action near the entrance as some of the Khad's men sought to break out of the tent. Baber, a wide grin on his face, rolled his cart into the melee and began to slash at legs. He had had a sword in a sling beneath his cart.

  In five minutes the worst was over. Some few of the Khad's men escaped by slitting the tent cloth with their swords and bursting out. Rahstum sent men after them.

  Rahstum had himself carried to the throne and placed on it. He smiled at Blade and waved his arm.

  "Too weak to walk. I must be carried to my throne. A fine beginning for the new Khad, eh?"

  "At least a beginning," Blade replied. "But what now, Captain? Or shall I already call you Khad?"

  Their glances locked and held for an instant. Rahstum smiled faintly. "You will call me Captain - at least in private. But there is no time for that nonsense now. We must get on with it. You, Sir Blade, and Morpho, will remain here with me. My men have their orders."

  It was a long night and a bloody one. Rahstum had planned so well that most of the Khad's men and officers were caught completely unaware. With the common soldiers there was no difficulty. It was all one to them who paid them, they had not cared much for the Khad anyway, and they came over to Rahstum in droves and without demur.

  Rahstum's troops rounded up all the Khad's officers, those who had not been in the tent, and brought them before the Captain. It moved rapidly. They were given a minute to swear fealty to Rahstum or lose their heads. The headsman waited just outside with his block. A good three quarters of the officers took the oath.

  They finished as the sun came bounding up. Rahstum was fatigued and in great pain, and greatly in need of sleep. He dozed on his pallet and a rug was thrown over him.

  The bodies of the Khad and Sadda had been taken away. Not before Blade asked, and received, a promise that Sadda at least should have a decent burial. His child was dead now, which could not be helped, but he would not have Sadda, with whom he had shared a bed, if not love, treated as the corpse of the Khad was to be treated.

  The dwarf spent most of the night in a corner of the tent with Nantee, cozening and petting her, and allaying her fea
rs. At last she went to sleep, her cheeks tearstained, and Morpho holding one small hand.

  Blade, seeking explanations now that it was over, smiled down at the sleeping girl.

  "She will be all right, Morpho. He had no chance to harm her. And it is unlikely that she understood what it was about. She will not be haunted by it. And now she has Rahstum's protection. You heard him promise it."

  Morpho nodded. His own rugged cheeks were tear-stained. "I owe you much, Sir Blade. More than before, which was my life."

  Blade, who was also weary, found a seat and regarded the little man with a touch of sternness.

  "Commence repayment, then, by telling me something of the truth. How came Sadda to know about Nantee?"

  Morpho's eyes were sad over the fixed grin. "She was a devil. She had known for many years. Since Nantee was a baby. I do not know how she found out, but she did. She had spies everywhere."

  Sadda had been, right, Blade thought, when she told him she could make the dwarf do anything. He had been her man. He had no choice.

  "You lied," he said now. "You told me that only three people knew about Nantee. You, me, and your old crone. I half guessed, and would have known the truth, but you lied. Why, Morpho?"

  The dwarf nodded slowly. "Yes. I lied, Sir Blade. I had to lie. She made me promise that I would never tell anyone that she knew about Nantee. I did not understand then. I do not understand now. But I had to promise and I dared not break it. She also promised me something - that if ever I told anyone that she knew about my child - Nantee would be killed at once. What could I do but obey, Blade. I dared not tell even you or Rahstum. If you were tortured and spoke, my daughter would die."

  Nantee stirred and mumbled in her sleep. Morpho booted her and stroked her hair.

  Blade thought he understood. Sadda had been subtle beyond all knowing. But what had she been protecting herself against? Her brother - who might have taken it amiss if she knew of such a lovely child as Nantee and concealed it from him?

  Blade shrugged and gave up. She was dead and that was the end of it.