Part 5 (1/2)

”Not all women.”

”Most women. And I suspect that very few could resist you.”

Blade ignored the flattery. ”A queen might. Tressana isn't the sort to babble just because she's been served well.”

Sikkurad laughed. ”Probably not. But I think you have been summoned for more than keeping her happy in bed. Curim is not going to be captain of the Men's Guard much longer. He is brave and a good fighter, but his foul temper has made him enemies even among his own men. You might find yourself the new captain of the Men's Guard.”

”And then?”

There was no mistaking the desperate sincerity in Sikkurad's voice. ”Learn what she plans for the Elstani, Blade. Learn whether she will accept them as free men, or wants them all made slaves. We do not know. We must learn, before the army marches into the forest.”

Suddenly Blade began to understand what was making Sikkurad desperate. ”If she wants to make slaves of the Elstani, that means killing their leaders. And their leaders are the Masters.”

Sikkurad almost giggled with relief. ”Then you understand? You are with us? You are not deceiving me? If you are...” He apparently couldn't think of any punishment awful enough for Blade if he was lying.

Blade shook his head. ”I am on the side of the Keepers. If Tressana wants to slaughter the Masters of Elstan, she ought to be stopped. Too much knowledge which both peoples can use would die with them.”

Particularly now that the Keepers have just rediscovered the scientific method. With the two peoples and everything they know united....

It would save this Dimension generations, possibly centuries, on the way back to being a modern civilization. Blade knew he'd do anything he could to help things along. He also suspected that he'd be risking a knife in the back from people who didn't understand what he was trying to do.

Chapter 10.

This was all Blade learned from Sikkurad. The Keeper obviously had more to say, but was too afraid of making his household suspicious by staying in the library with Blade long enough to say it. At times the Keeper seemed one of the bravest men Blade had ever met. At other times he seemed ready to start at his own shadow. Blade wondered which would get him first, Queen Tressana or an ulcer.

Blade had learned enough, fortunately. He now knew what he had to listen for and most of what he had to guard against. Sikkurad might have told him a little more about Queen Tressana herself, but would it have been reliable information? For all his intelligence, the Keeper obviously had trouble accepting women who ruled or rode into battle. Jollya would probably be able to tell him more about Tressana, but when would he be able to talk to her? When he did, could he avoid getting Jollya dangerously involved in the Keepers' plotting? Even if Tressana didn't become suspicious, what about Curim? He might be willing to attack Jollya as a way of attacking Blade.

Blade considered all this while he took his bath, then put it firmly out of his mind. If there were any answers, he'd find them more easily after a good dinner and a night's sleep. This might be the last dinner in quite a while he could eat without having to worry about poison in his food, and the last night he could go to sleep without barring his door against a.s.sa.s.sins.

Dinner was so good that Blade couldn't entirely avoid stray thoughts of ”the condemned man's last meal.” He ate soup, roast lamb, and honey cakes, was.h.i.+ng everything down with plenty of good red wine. He finished the meal with a cup of herb-scented tea, then went back to his room.

He'd just finished locking the door and was sitting down on a footstool to pull off his boots when he heard a low growl from outside the shuttered window. Before he could move, the shutters flew open as if they'd been hit by a cannon ball. With a snarl one of the hunting cats sprang down into the room.

The wine at dinner hadn't slowed Blade's reflexes. He drew his knife with one hand and s.n.a.t.c.hed a heavy candlestick off the table with the other. He wasn't sure whether this would stop an attack or provoke one, but he wasn't going to face one of the cats bare-handed!

The cat saw Blade's readiness and crouched, tail las.h.i.+ng ominously and wide green eyes glowing. Blade saw that the cat wore a leather collar with Sikkurad's house badge on it in silver thread, and also another badge he didn't recognize. The cat snarled again and Blade braced himself to meet its spring.

Then a voice came from behind the curtains around the great bed. It sounded sleepy and angry at the same time.

”Hoyo, no! Didn't I tell you about this man?”

It was Jollya's voice. Before Blade could wonder what she was doing here or what she was talking about, the curtains flew open. Jollya leaped out at him as gracefully as her pet.

She was barefoot and bareheaded, with her hair unbound and flowing down over her shoulders. Otherwise she wore her full riding leathers, with a knife so long that it was practically a short sword in her tooled and studded belt. She looked so formidable that Blade found himself measuring the distance between himself and his sword.

Then the cat flowed out of his crouch, padded over to Jollya, and rubbed against her ankle. She bent down and scratched him behind the ears. He started purring, sounding like a badly tuned outboard motor. His eyes closed to slits, and his tail stood up as straight as a flagpole.

Blade put the candlestick back on the table, belted on his sword, then turned back to Jollya.

”Why are you here?”

”To see you.”

”About what?” His voice was deceptively mild. He was in no mood for either mysteries or practical jokes.

She swallowed. ”I had to see you. You are going away tomorrow, to-to Tressana.”

”How did you know that?” Blade said sharply.

”My father told me.” Blade breathed more easily. Jollya went on. She was nervous, and her words tumbled over each other the same way her father's did. ”I came home this afternoon. He met me, told me about you then. I had to see you. I waited until everyone was at dinner, then climbed up the vines. No one saw me. Hoyo followed me. I hope no one saw him.”

”That doesn't tell me why you came in the first place.” There was always the obvious explanation for an attractive woman coming to a man's room and hiding by his bed. However, when the woman was fully clothed and carrying a large knife, the obvious explanation might not be the true one.

”I-” She swallowed again. ”I needed to speak to you about-Tressana.” Blade said nothing. He merely looked at her until she looked away. He thought he saw tears in the corner of each eye. It seemed that the obvious explanation for her being here really was the true one. It was hard to mistake the look in her eyes and the way she held her body. Any other questions Blade might want to ask the girl could wait.

Blade put down his sword and knife, then stepped forward. Jollya stood motionless as he approached, as he reached her, and as he took her in his arms. Then she stiffened so violently that for a moment Blade wondered if he'd made a mistake. A moment after that her hands were running up and down his back with clumsy enthusiasm, and her face was tilting up to meet his. She didn't have to tilt far, even though she was barefoot and he was wearing boots.

Blade quickly stopped noticing details like that. Jollya was still clumsy, but her enthusiasm grew like a fire in dry gra.s.s. She gripped his shoulders, the small of his back, his b.u.t.tocks-anywhere she could get a firm hold to pull herself against him. Her lips roamed everywhere they could reach, from the corners of his eyes over to his ears, then down to his lips and his throat.

Blade returned all her pa.s.sion with more skill. He would have let his own enthusiasm run wild too, but there was still room in his mind for the thought that Jollya might be a virgin. He wanted to be easy, gentle, tender, letting her set the pace as long as possible.

When she started squeezing his erection between her thighs, he wondered how long he could continue to go slowly. He knew that if he didn't take her clothes off now, he would be tearing them off a little later. Although he nearly groaned with the frustration, he pulled away. His hands went to the top hook of Jollya's riding tunic, and slowly undid it. A second hook, and there was bare tanned skin running down to the beginning of the cleft between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Blade kissed the cleft, tried to slide his fingers in under the leather, discovered he still didn't have room, and undid the third hook.

Releasing the third hook seemed to release a spring in Jollya. She pulled free of him so violently that the fourth hook snapped off. Then she jerked the tunic over her head. Under the tunic she wore a linen s.h.i.+rt that clung so tightly that it was almost more erotic than her bare skin. It also clung so tightly that she couldn't jerk it off the way she'd done with the tunic. She fumbled with it, until Blade knew that it was desire rather than fear making her clumsy. He gripped the s.h.i.+rt at the throat with both hands and tore it down to the waist.

Jollya had almost a fas.h.i.+on model's body, tall and large-boned, with not too much flesh covering the bones. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s looked much better bare than they did clothed. Blade did more than look. He stroked and kissed and fondled them until the large dark nipples jutted out like miniature lance joints against the palms of his hands. Jollya closed her eyes, wound her fingers into Blade's s.h.a.ggy dark hair, and moaned softly.

When Jollya started shaking all over, Blade knew she was as ready as she needed to be. So was he. In fact, by now he was afraid he'd be almost too ready. He turned his back on Jollya and tried to make a long slow business of pulling off his clothes.

It didn't help much. When he turned back toward the bed Jollya was lying there on her back, completely naked. Her hair spread out across the quilts like a dark glossy fan, her legs were slightly apart, and her eyes were half-closed. At that moment they reminded Blade very much of the hunting cat's eyes. Suddenly he was on fire all over again. He had to force himself not to simply hurl himself onto Jollya and lose himself in the welcome her body promised. Instead he lay down and started to caress her, starting with her b.r.e.a.s.t.s but planning to go on to the rest of her.

Suddenly Jollya rolled toward him, gripped him by both shoulders, and pushed him hard down into the quilts. Blade didn't have time to resist, even if he'd wanted to. He could only grip Jollya's arms to pull her down on to him. The moment he was inside her he knew that she was no virgin and that she was incredibly ready. Blade heaved upward with his hips, going all the way into her. At the same time he pulled her down until he could stroke her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Silently Jollya exploded, heaving up and down on Blade until he was feeling pain as well as pleasure. Her breath rasped and hissed, but she bit her lip so hard that blood came and the screams and cries stayed inside. Then she fell forward onto Blade, so limp that she didn't even try to resist when he slid out from under her. Her eyes were shut, and stayed shut until she felt Blade entering her from above. Then they opened wider than ever, as she clamped her arms around Blade's shoulders and her legs around his hips. She was eager to take him any way she could get him.

Blade didn't try to hold back this time, and before long he couldn't have held back if he'd tried. Jollya's nails clawed at his back, her tongue was a tiny flame dancing along his throat and over his face, the musk of her body was an exquisite perfume. When she cried out he was so close to his own release that he barely heard her. Then he was pouring himself into her, so furiously and for so long that it seemed life itself might go out of him into her. He felt dangerously helpless as he rolled off her, but a quick look told him that there was no danger from Jollya. She lay as if she'd been stunned. Blade didn't quite fall asleep, but it was a while before he moved or heard anything.

When he was clear-headed again, he saw Jollya resting her head on his thigh, her rather sharp chin digging into his flesh. He cupped her chin with one hand, stroked her hair with the other, and smiled.

”All right, Jollya. Did you come here just for this, or for something more?”

Jollya sat up so abruptly she nearly fell out of bed. ”I'm not a prost.i.tute, selling my body for favors from men,” she snapped. She tossed her head angrily, so that her hair flew in a dark cloud.

”I didn't say you were a prost.i.tute. I wanted to ask what comes next, because we may not have too much time. That cat of yours may have been seen and followed, even if you weren't. We'll have even less time if you don't keep your voice down.”