Part 5 (1/2)
”Then do not doubt Mazda because he comes in a machine that he has taken from the Looters, a machine whose secrets he has learned.” That brought the woman's head up with a jerk and a gasp.
”He-”
Someone moved in the shadows of a doorway. Then a man stepped out into the light. A man standing well over six feet tall, with an athlete's build and muscles, red gold hair that flamed in the sun-and a face out of which Blade's own image stared at him.
The man wore a green tunic with a flaming golden sword embroidered on the chest, and two metal swords hung from a wide leather belt at his waist. On his feet-but Blade found that he could no longer notice such details. In his mind a voice was sounding.
This is my son.
The voice built to a roar. Blade opened his mouth and shouted out: ”This is my son! This is my son, borne by Zulekia beloved of Mazda, King of the People!”
The tall young man flung his long arms wide and tossed his ma.s.sive head, making the long red-gold hair-Zulekia's hair-swirl about like a halo. Then he drew both swords, cast them on the ground in front of him, and knelt to Blade. ”This is Mazda. This is my father, returned to his people. Hail father! Hail Mazda!”
Chapter 13.
Pandemonium followed.
People jumped down into the courtyard from the roof. They swarmed out of the doors and climbed out of all the windows. They ran into the courtyard from outside the house. There were hundreds of them, men, women, and children.
Everybody was waving something. All were jumping up and down and shouting, ”Mazda, Mazda, Mazda!” with all the breath in their bodies. The roar of the crowd half-deafened Blade. His ears could pick up the cry spreading out beyond the King's House, out into the streets, through the city. No doubt it would go on out into the country, until the houses were too far apart for a shout to carry from one to another. Then people would run as fast as they could to their neighbors, bringing word that Mazda had come again to Tharn.
It was an awesome feeling. But it was not quite equal to the feeling of looking into the face of his son. Nothing could be quite equal to that.
Blade stepped down from the platform to the ground-and immediately rose into the air again. People swarmed forward, reaching out for him, grasping him, hoisting him up. He was tossed about wildly until he felt his joints protesting. He realized that he was in real danger of being torn apart or trampled underfoot by this mob of hysterical wors.h.i.+pers of Mazda.
King Rikard's voice boomed out above the crowd roar.
”Stop! Cease! Stand back and stand away from Mazda! This is not the way the people do him honor!”
Then the king plunged forward into the crowd, clearing a path toward Blade. Those the king's ma.s.sive hands didn't grab and pull aside scrambled out of his way on their own. After the king came half a dozen armed fighters, including the gray-haired woman. They kept the path open with shouts and glares and brandished weapons.
Blade finally felt solid ground under his feet again. He took a deep breath and stepped forward to embrace his son. Rikard's own arms went around his father. They stood there for a moment in silence that said more than either of them could have said with words.
Blade was glad he did not have to speak. He was closer to being completely overpowered by his emotions than he had ever been in his life.
Seeing father and son embracing set off the crowd again. For several minutes everyone in the courtyard and the house shouted themselves hoa.r.s.e even more furiously than before. Blade and his son could not have made themselves heard if they had wanted to.
The crowd finally ran out of breath. King Rikard stepped back, looked Blade up and down, and slapped him on the shoulder, as one warrior chief to another.
”Father, come. We have much to say and we have no hope of saying any of it out here.”
He turned toward the door into the King's House. Blade followed, Krimon fell into step behind him, and the guards brought up the rear.
The inner chambers of the King's House were as cramped, dark, and stuffy as the chambers of any other building made of turf, stone, and hides. But they were much cleaner and less smelly. The people of Tharn might have to live for now in barbarians' houses, but their memories of what had been and their hopes of what might be again kept them from becoming barbarians themselves.
Blade sat on a bench of teksin slabs covered with furs, and was presented with a large bronze cup of strong beer. King Rikard swept a glance around the room, and all the guards except the gray-haired woman vanished like puffs of smoke. Krimon turned as if to follow them, but Rikard motioned him to a seat.
”No, Krimon, you stay. You have seen and heard the most since Mazda returned. Your advice is needed. Yours too, Anyara,” he added, pointing at the woman.
”Of all the people Anyara was the one who did most to raise me, next to my mother Zulekia. She has proved herself strong in war and wise in council as well. I owe her much, and Tharn owes her more, over many years.” Anyara bowed her head with sober dignity at the praise.
Rikard undid his belt, poured himself beer from another jug, and sat down on a pile of furs in one corner. He drank deeply, then grinned. ”By law and custom I should call in the whole Council of the People to listen and speak out. I suspect they would do more speaking out than listening if I did.” The grin faded. ”But there is nothing in law or custom to say what shall be done on the day of Mazda's return. I think we shall listen to what Mazda has to say first.”
Blade grinned. His son obviously had some of his own shrewdness. ”I do not think so, either. But I will ask you to stop calling me Mazda, at least when we are alone. It makes me feel like an image set up in a temple, to be wors.h.i.+ped faithfully but not really much good to anybody.”
”All right, Maz-father,” said the king, smiling. The smile made him look quite a bit younger than his twenty-five years. The smile faded. ”Krimon spoke of your having captured the Looter war machine and learned its secrets. I-I won't ask if this was true. I can't imagine you lying, at least not to the people. But tell us more. Tell us-have you found some way we can defeat the Looters? Is there any hope for us?”
”I honestly do not know,” said Blade. ”I myself need to learn much more. But let me tell you what I have learned already.” He poured himself more beer.
”To start with, I believe there is a chance to make the purple ray of the war machines harmless. If we face the Looters wearing only things that once lived-wood, teksin, leather, cloth-the ray may not kill. I have seen things that make me believe this is so. But I cannot yet be sure. We must test this further.”
King Rikard's eyes widened. Blade knew he now had his son's full attention, and would not lose it.
Hours pa.s.sed. So did much more beer and a large meal of roast meat and steamed porridge. The light that crept in around the leather curtains in the window began to fade and turn red. Blade went on talking, answering his son's questions and getting answers to some of his own.
Eventually darkness came down. King Rikard rose and stretched out his long muscular arms until his hands seemed ready to punch through the ceiling.
”Father, I know that you have more to say. But in a single day I can only hear so much of things that I can hardly believe. You do understand?” Blade nodded. ”Then we can finish tomorrow. And after we have finished, will you speak to the whole council? They must all hear what you have learned, and decide what must be done.”
”Isn't it obvious?”
”Father, it is obvious to me. I know it will be just as obvious to the council when they have heard it. But they must hear it. Otherwise it will be said in Tharn that the return of Mazda is making the king return to the old ways of ruling. None wish that.” Anyara and Krimon nodded.
Blade grinned again. ”I see you haven't much to learn in statecraft.”
”Thank you, father. Now-there will be a chamber ready for you in a few minutes. Would you care to do us the honor of taking one of the women of the King's House to you this night?”
Blade hadn't expected this. Handing a woman over to a male guest for his amus.e.m.e.nt was a custom he hadn't expected to find among the people, who were trying so hard not to be barbarians. Had his son really become so much the barbarian warrior chieftain as that?
Except- Blade shot a look at Anyara. She was nodding enthusiastically, and so was Krimon. There was something definitely odd here.
”What does the woman have to say in this?”
Anyara and King Rikard both laughed out loud. ”I see. You think we have gone back to the habits of the Pethcines, handing our women about as though they were swords or boots. It is not so. Even if I wanted to make it so, the first seven women I met would claw out my eyes and cut off my manhood with dull knives if I tried.
”But the seed of Mazda is precious and powerful. Many women of the people who are of an age to bear children would most gladly take that seed into themselves, in the hope of bearing a child of Mazda. Girl or boy, they would be happy with either. They know it will be a strong child. We need strong children, father. We need all the strong children we can get, so that in time we will have all the strong men and women we need.”
”Even children of the seed of Mazda?” said Blade.
”I do not understand, father. Is-is there something wrong with your seed? Certainly I show no signs of it if there is.”
Blade laughed. ”You do not. But consider that you are King in Tharn because you are the only one sprung from the seed of Mazda. What will happen to you when there are a dozen or a score of such?”
”Or even hundreds. Why not be hopeful?” put in Anyara.