Part 13 (1/2)

Honcho laughed. ”To kill me, Blade? I had not thought you such a fool. Certainly Totha is not, I had no difficulty in pointing out to her where her best interests lay.”

Totha spat at the ground. ”You desire a Maiduke above me, Blade. That girl Zulekia. Honcho told me of this and at first I did not believe him. Then I spoke to the girl herself and I found that it was true: she wants you, Blade! And for that you are both going to die horribly.”

Honcho made an impatient gesture. ”Enough of this! But she speaks truth, Blade. Think. If you do not surrender as planned we will attack and defeat you. The girl will die first, with you watching. Both of you will take a long time to die, Blade. If you surrender now things will be as I have promised. I swear it.”

Totha spat again. She glared at Honcho. ”You will not save the girl! That I vow. Blade's life, perhaps, but not the girl.”

Blade grinned at Honcho. ”You see. You make promises you cannot keep.” He was stalling now, talking to gain time until it was a little lighter and the wind stronger. By now Xeno would have transmitted his orders to the catapult troops on the roof of the teksin plant.

Honcho's green eyes were narrowed on Blade and they were full of speculation. As Blade intended. Honcho was wondering about the Power! Why, with the Pethcines safely in the trap, had the Power not been invoked? Where were the Red Storms and the magveils and the magrays? And where was Honcho's Power? Blade gave him a mocking grin. Honcho did well to wonder. And the advantage was to Blade. He knew what he was going to do. Honcho did not.

Org's sword rasped from the scabbard. He waved it at Blade. His little eyes were glittering with fury. ”Fight me, Blade! Fight me now. To the death. We will decide this in single combat.”

Blade's sword was swift in reply. ”Gladly, Org. Gladly!” It was more than he had expected.

Both Honcho and Totha leaped at Org, catching at his sword arm and forcing it down. Honcho pleaded. Totha cursed and derided.

”Fool!” she blazed at her father. ”Old fat fool! That is what he wants. You will be killed and our people will not fight. Fool! Fat stupid fool! Put your sword away and listen to me before you ruin everything.”

Blade saw his chance fading. He sheathed his sword and nodded to Org. ”Later, Org. Later. Come for me whenever you are ready.”

He turned his back on them and strode toward the fort. Once he glanced back. Totha and Honcho were arguing fiercely with Org and half-dragging him back to the Pethcine lines.

Now it would begin.

Blade went straight to the pyramid of bales. He mounted it and made a signal to Xeno. Xeno made a signal in turn. The catapults atop the teksin plant went into action. They began to hurl fire arrows at the Pethcine tents.

Swoooooooosss-swoooosss-swoooosss...swoooosss...

They had followed orders. The arrows, tipped with blazing teksin oil, arched in a high parabola over the forts, firing to windward so the tents on Org's left wing would catch first. The east wind would do the rest.

The first salvo fell short. Blade signaled and the catapults were cogged back for more elevation. Blade could hear the Bearer Maidens singing and shouting at their work. He shook his head and smiled. This whole d.a.m.ned affair was only a festival to them.

The second salvo of fire arrows fell squarely amidst the rude skin tents. Each arrow, as it struck, spread blazing teksin oil. Tents began to go up in flame and roiling black smoke, each one a separate furnace. Blade did not expect too much from the tactic but it would spread a little chaos, plant a little fear, and divert some of Org's troops to saving their baggage.

He kept his eyes glued on Org's tent. And then he saw her. Zulekia. She was naked to the waist, her glorious hair glinting like the tent fires, her lovely face as impa.s.sive as ever as two warriors dragged her from the tent She was wearing only a loincloth of some animal skin.

Totha walked up and struck her in the face. She took the blow proudly and it seemed to Blade that she looked in his direction. Then drifting smoke obscured the scene for a moment. When he looked again Zulekia had been flung to the ground and spreadeagled. The warriors were holding her down. Honcho was giving commands. Four of the chariot horses were being driven up.

From the corner of his eye Blade saw Isma leaping up the pyramid toward him. He steeled himself.

At first Isma did not speak She stood beside him as they watched Zulekia being bound to the four horses. Each wrist, each ankle, attached to harness by a long rope of twisted leather. Honcho was careful in his directions. A Pethcine warrior stood by each horse, ready for the command. Blade did not think it would come immediately. Honcho was gambling, even as he himself was gambling. Zulekia was the neuter's only ace in the hole. He would not kill her yet. If things went badly Honcho was going to need the Maiduke girl to bargain with. So Blade thought. So he hoped Honcho was thinking. Yet he felt a moment of despair. The horses must have been Totha's idea. That one was a devil in female form.

Isma breathed hard beside him. The female odor of her, mixed with sweat beneath the body armor, was pungent. She said: ”Who is the Maiduke, Blade?”

He shrugged and did not look at her. ”I think Zulekia is her name. All I know is what Sutha has told me. She was sent to Honcho to be punished for karno, and Sutha used her as a spy. Honcho must have found her out and now he is going to punish her. Perhaps he thinks it will frighten us, seeing her torn apart by the horses.”

”Then why doesn't he do it,” said Isma. ”What is he waiting for?” There was an odd, choked timbre to her voice and Blade looked at her. She was staring through the smoke at Zulekia and the horses, her dark eyes alight with expectation and her red mouth open. As he watched a dribble of saliva ran from the corner of her mouth. Blade turned away.

Isma said: ”Why don't they tear her apart?”

”Honcho has his reasons,” said Blade. ”Get back to your women, Isma. The attack will come any moment now. And be sure you obey my orders exactly as they are sent to you!”

Isma licked her lips with her tongue. She looked at him sulkily. ”Yes, Lord Blade! But I do not understand any of this - why do we not retreat into Urcit and simply destroy the Pethcines with the Power? I cannot understand why you wait.”

Blade scowled. ”I do not explain my orders. Even to you. Go, Isma, and do as you are told.”

She scowled back and she muttered, but she went He watched her rejoin her women and the spindling, scrawny array of Lordsmen. Blade chuckled without glee. Now he was going to have to watch his back. And he must trust Sutha. There was no help for that.

Most of the tents had been burnt out by now. The Pethcines were ignoring them. They were forming into a long double line of skin clad warriors with pointed hats and each carrying a s.h.i.+eld and sword and a long spear. Squads of bowmen were deploying in front of the line, on either flank. Trumpets called and echoed and there was much frenzied running to and fro. Blade nodded in satisfaction. It looked like a frontal attack.

He searched anxiously for the chariots and saw them forming up far to the rear, in leisurely fas.h.i.+on. For the moment Org was keeping them in reserve and Blade breathed a bit easier. He knew that his ceboid flanks could not stand up to a chariot charge.

The catapults had stopped shooting fire arrows now. Blade gave another signal, relayed by the vigilant Xeno, and the sound of the catapults changed to a deeper note as they hurled huge jagged blocks of teksin into the enemy ranks.

Whunaaaaggg...whunaaaaagggg...whunagggggggg...

One of the teksin missiles struck, bounced and skipped through a file of Pethcines, leaving behind a dozen shredded hunks of flesh. Screams of anger and pain and terror burst from the Pethdne ranks, but they were filled in at once. Org was striding up and down before his men, waving his sword and haranguing them. A teksin ball struck within a foot of him and he did not appear to notice. Blade nodded reluctantly. Org was a barbarian, a savage, but he was a brave one.

The rain had let up. The wind had stiffened and was whipping the Pethcines' banners straight out from their poles. A final trumpet rasped and then, as if both armies had taken a last deep breath, there was a tiny island of silence among the tumult.

Blade unsheathed the sword. High on the pyramid of bales, above them all, he brandished the sword at the Pethcine lines. His deep baritone roared above the wind.

”Here is your sword, Pethcines. Come and take it!”

Chapter Fifteen.

Org made a cunning feint with his frontal attack. The Pethcines, their battle cries swelling into a sullen roar, charged forward fifty paces and then halted. They turned and ran back. Blade's catapults, depressed now, poured a hail of battle arrows and bags of teksin shrapnel into the area just vacated. Blade cursed. Wasted ammunition, and it was short. He shouted to the bowmen to hold their fire. He wanted the Pethcines to waste their arrows, not his own.

Org now sent his, or Honcho's, ceboids in a double flanking attack. Blade recognized the maneuver. Org was willing to sacrifice ceboids just as Blade was.

Blade sent half the Lordsmen to back up the ceboid officers who in turn were backing the whipping neuters. He saw Isma protesting the order, but the Lordsmen formed, wheeled and marched off. Blade was grim.

The ceboid skirmish was short and fierce. Honcho's beasts came on with animal grunts and howls, waving their swords. Blade held the fire of the catapults, though a flanking fire could have been deadly, because he did not have arrows and teksin bombs to waste on ceboids.

He kept an eye on the war chariots. They were still in ranks far to the rear. Zulekia was still spreadeagled between the nervous horses. Honcho stood nearby, his arms folded, staring at the developing fray. For a moment Org and Totha were out of sight Then, just before he turned his attention back to the ceboids, Blade saw Totha running back toward the chariots.

Blade's ceboids held because of his foresight in planting the ceboid officers behind the neuters. Several of the neuters panicked and tried to run, but the officers cut them down with snarls of joy. Blade knew that a lot of old scores were being settled.

Honcho's neuters, on the other hand, had no stiffening behind them. They whipped their ceboids forward, but when Blade's line held, and the melee broke down into dozens of individual fights - when their weapons did not serve the ceboids went for each other with teeth and claws - Honcho's neuters despaired and began to retreat. Blade gave a signal then and the catapults went into action once more. They hurled shrapnel and six-foot war arrows that skewered four or five neuters at a time. The rest threw down their whips in terror and ran. Without the whippers behind them the ceboids of Honcho broke and fled also. It was soon over and Blade's ceboids had the field. They began tearing the throats out of the wounded ceboids and neuters.

There was a new flare of trumpets as the flank attack subsided and washed back. This time the Pethcine ranks came on in earnest, stepping smartly to the thumping of a crude skin drum.

Blade sent his bowmen to the ramparts of the forts. They began to drop a deadly hail into the advancing Pethcines. Still they came on. Org was leading them and Blade gave instructions for one of the catapults, and a squad of bowmen, to concentrate solely on the King of the Pethcines. Org waded on through the cloud of arrows, untouched.

The bowmen, Blade was using a mixture of high-level neuters and Maiduke maidens, did better than he had expected. They were accurate enough and the barbarian ranks were already thinned by the time they reached the glacis and began to toil up it. The first rank became tangled on the stakes and the teksin wire and wavered to a halt, trying frantically to disentangle themselves. The rear ranks came on, foolishly and bravely, piling up like the surf on an unfriendly sh.o.r.e.