Empire Of Blood

Chapter 21

The next morning Kukon hove to and buried her dead, slipping them over the side sewn up in hammocks with a cannonball at their feet. There was hardly enough of Luun to bury properly. Then the galley's sails rose again and she headed on toward the north and whatever awaited her there.

Blade ordered the lookouts doubled and all the cannon and muskets kept loaded at all times. If the commandant's word reached Kul-Nam or his admirals swiftly enough, a galley squadron might set out after Kukon. Blade was determined to give such a squadron no easy prize, and every man aboard Kukon agreed with him.

Neither Blade nor Prince Durouman had any more doubts about the crew's willingness to fight side by side with the pirates. For a chance to fight Kul-Nam's soldiers the crew would gladly have signed an alliance with demons.

They made their landfall in the Strait of Nongai toward evening of the eighth day after the battle. Then they began their approach to the mountainous island where the pirates kept a lookout station, flying the truce flag at both mastheads.

They were also ready for a pitched battle. Blade was willing to believe that the pirates would not fire on a truce flag. He was not willing to risk Kukon and her men in case he turned out to be wrong. The pirates were frightened men now, and frightened men did not always behave as they normally would.

Kukon anchored four miles offshore, beyond gun range, and waited for any signal that might come from the land. None came. The sun sank, and Blade set night stations. Half the men would sleep; the other half would remain awake and alert. The guns would remain loaded, the oars trailing, the sails bent to the yards. No one would creep out of the darkness to surprise Kukon without being detected, or attack without getting a warm reception.

They spent that night, the next day, and all of the next night anchored and alert. The strain began to tell on Prince Durouman.

«What are they waiting for?» he burst out. «For us to die of old age and the worms to eat holes in Kukon's bottom so they won't have to fight us?»

Blade laughed. «I doubt it. I suspect they're trying to decide what we are. That will take them a while. Then it will take them another while to decide what to do about us. Then we will see them coming out to do it, whatever it is.»

The waiting ended the next morning. The lookouts reported four pirate galleys and what looked like a fishing boat heading slowly toward Kukon from the west. It was an hour before they were hull-up from the deck. Eventually the four galleys rested on their oars just outside gunshot range while the fishing boat swung in toward Kukon. Blade ordered the anchor weighed and made ready to receive whatever message the pirates wanted to send.

As the fishing boat came within hailing distance, a gray-bearded man in a faded red tunic stood up in her bow. «Ahoy, the Imperial galley!»

Blade cupped his hands and shouted back, «Ahoy, the boat! We are no Imperial galley. We are the galley Kukon, in the personal service of Prince Durouman of Nullar and under the command of Prince Blade of England. We bear a message for those who guide the destinies of the Free Brothers of Nongai.» Like most pirates Blade had seen, the pirates of Nongai had given themselves a dramatic and not particularly accurate name.

The man seemed to frown and hesitate, then shouted back, «What is that message?»

«We would bear it privately to the captains and to the Seven Brothers.» The seven senior captains of the pirates formed an unofficial but effective ruling council, with a dramatic name of its own.

There was silence in the other boat. Prince Durouman fidgeted nervously. The offer of alliance was not something to be shouted out across thirty yards of water, where everyone might hear it. On the other hand, being too closemouthed might in the next minute send the battle signals soaring up to the mastheads of the four galleys. Blade could only hope he'd struck the right balance.

The silence went on for what seemed like half an hour, but could not have been more than a couple of minutes. Then the man gestured to someone in the stern of the fishing boat. Two men stood up, waving a green flag on the end of a long pole. Blade saw the oars of the four galleys begin to move. Then the red-clad pirate hailed them again.

«We judge it fit that you come before the Seven Brothers, for you have come to us under a truce flag. Remain where you are. Our four galleys will form a square around you. You will be given a course to follow. Remain within that square and on that course, or it shall be your death.»

The man sat down and four sailors leaped into action. The boat's sail filled again and she came about, heading away from Kukon. Beyond the boat, the galleys were now moving steadily closer.

Blade let out breath he hadn't realized he was holding. «So far so good. They seem to be willing to believe we've got a message and willing to let us bring it before their ruling council.» He turned and hailed Dzhai, who was standing on the foc'sle. «Captain Dzhai! Call all rowers to their benches and prepare to get underway.»

For two days Kukon and her escorts moved west against a fluky wind that kept the rowers in all five ships at the oars most of the time.

On the third morning the five galleys entered a broad river mouth where some thirty black-hulled galleys were already anchored. On the shore rose a roughly built log house, with the flag of the Seven Brothers-seven gold rays on a green field-floating above it.

Beyond the house in one direction were the rough lean-tos and huts of the mainland tribesmen. In the other direction was a sprawling mass of tents, tethered horses, and cooking fires sending up spirals of smoke. The Steppemen had indeed come in force. Prince Durouman counted the pirate galleys and frowned.

«Is that all they have left after the battle against Sukar's squadron? If they are so weak, can they be of any use to us? If-«

«I doubt that is all their strength,» said Blade. This was the first time he'd interrupted Prince Durouman, and he realized this might give offense. Yet the prince's constant worrying out loud was beginning to get on Blade's nerves. The prince was brave and daring and intelligent, but he also seemed exceedingly high-strung. Perhaps too high-strung to make an effective leader.

Blade counted the tents and horses in the camp of the Steppemen. That led to another unpleasant thought. The Steppemen had come with at least three thousand men, perhaps four thousand. That was not just an embassy. That was an army-an army that could start a war or launch an invasion on a moment's notice.

Blade did not in the least like having so many armed warriors of a people he was about to turn into enemies so close at hand. The more he thought about it, the less he liked it. He also realized that there was nothing he could do about it, except perhaps not mention it to Prince Durouman. The man was already nervous enough.

Those aboard Kukon had time to eat breakfast before anything happened. Then a flat-bottomed barge came out from shore toward the galley. In the stern sat the same man in the red tunic who had spoken to them three days ago. He now wore a leather cuirass and a high-crested steel helmet and carried a short, curved sword. The other men in the boat were also armed and armored.

«They don't seem to trust us,» said Prince Durouman. «Or perhaps it's the Steppemen they don't trust. With three thousand of them two miles away, I wouldn't sleep easily more than a foot from my sword.»

So Prince Durouman had made his own count of the Steppemen-yet did not seem so worried that he was unable to make a light-hearted remark about it. That was good. The better the prince kept his head, the better would be the impression he made on the Seven Brothers.

The barge bumped alongside. The man scrambled forward from the stern and sprang lightly up Kukon's side onto the foc'sle. Blade, Prince Durouman, and Dzhai met him there, all dressed in their best clothes, weapons, and armor.

«Greetings,» said the man. «I am Emass, Speaker for the Seven Brothers.»

«Greetings, Emass,» said Blade. He introduced the other two men. Wine was brought, and all four men solemnly drank a cup and ate bread and salt fish.

«It is our wish to bring our message before the Seven Brothers,» said Blade when they'd finished. «Is it the wish of the Seven Brothers to hear us?»

«It is,» said Emass. «It is also their wish that I bring you before them now.»

Blade and Prince Durouman exchanged looks, then both nodded in unison. Blade turned to Dzhai. «Captain Dzhai, Kukon is in your charge. Let nothing happen that is unworthy of all she has done before.» There was no harm in reminding the pirates that this galley and these same men had fought furiously against them before and could do so again if necessary. It might help the pirates keep their tempers enough to remember their honor and the truce.

Dzhai nodded and raised his good arm in a salute. «It shall be done, Prince Blade.»

Blade and Durouman turned and followed Emass down into the barge.

After it was all over, Blade was never quite able to sort out the details of the negotiations with the Seven Brothers. The negotiations lasted three days. After the first few hours, everything became a blur in Blade's mind, and he retained only a few clear impressions.

There were the four Steppemen, observers who sat in on all the negotiations, the first Blade had ever seen in the flesh. They were short, squarely built men, with skinny legs spectacularly bowed from a lifetime on horseback. They wore leather vests and trousers; their main weapons were long, curved, two-handed swords worn slung across the back. Their dark hair was braided into two pigtails and they wore beards trimmed into points and stiffened with strong-smelling grease.

The seven Brothers of Nongai, along with Emass, sat at a long table of waxed driftwood pegged and tied together. All wore faded tunics, most wore fur jackets over the tunics in spite of the warmth of the room, and all were armed to the teeth. No two of them wore their hair or beards in the same style, but all had one other thing in common. All were in deadly fear of the attack Emperor Kul-Nam was preparing to launch against them.

They concealed it well, of course. The Steppemen did not appear to notice it, but Blade and Prince Durouman were more experienced observers, with keener eyes. They knew that they were negotiating with men desperate for aid against a dreaded enemy, and not much caring from where it came as long as it came.

They were also negotiating with men who tended to think more in terms of ships at sea than of horsemen on land. That was an advantage. The Seven Brothers would more readily accept an alliance that offered them a fleet than one that offered them an army. Now all that remained was to convince the Seven Brothers that Prince Durouman would indeed bring a fleet to their aid.

That was the hardest part of the whole job of negotiating. Once more Blade felt like a door-to-door salesman. The customers were even more stubborn, and this time the sales talk went on for days instead of hours.

The Steppemen listened intently, their dark eyes switching from Blade to the Seven Brothers and back again. They seldom spoke, and when they did, it was usually through an interpreter. When they spoke themselves, their accents were so thick that neither Blade nor the prince nor the Seven Brothers could understand more than about half of what they said.

Eventually the Seven Brothers and Emass declared that they had heard all they needed to hear from both sides. They would go forth, speak to all the Free Brothers, and return with their decision.

It was two days before that decision was announced. Blade and Prince Durouman were too busy catching up on lost sleep and missed meals to have time to be nervous during those days. But they were still surprised at the decision of the Seven Brothers.

«We have decided,» Emass said solemnly, «that we shall make no decision at this time. That which we have heard and seen is not enough for us to decide with the wisdom that is needed for the safety of the Free Brothers.»

Emass looked at Prince Durouman. «Lord Prince. Have you in your company a warrior of great strength and skill, fit to serve as your champion?»

Prince Durouman hesitated a second, then nodded. «I have. He is Prince Blade, who stands here before you.»

«Good.» Emass asked the same question of the Steppemen's envoys. Their champion was not among the four envoys, but they could produce one-or even a dozen-if necessary.

«It will be necessary,» said Emass drily. «We have decided that a champion of Prince Durouman and a champion of the Steppemen shall do battle to the death. They shall do battle tomorrow, on horseback, before all those present here. That side whose champion gains the battle shall be permitted to enter into alliance with us, according to our laws and customs. This is our decision. Go forth and prepare for battle.»

If Blade had indulged in his first impulse, he would have drawn his sword and started hacking off the heads of the Seven Brothers, one by one, until he was killed. That impulse did not last long. But rage and incomprehension were still bubbling inside him when he and Prince Durouman returned to Kukon.

«This is as mad as anything Kul-Nam himself might have done!» he exploded.

Prince Durouman pulled at his beard, his face screwed up in a particularly intense frown. Then he shook his head. «I wonder. There may be a good reason for this-or a reason that seems good to the Brothers.»

Blade laughed. «For the moment, that's the same thing. All right, I'll believe just about anything at this point. What is their reason?»

«It helps conceal the fact that they're frightened. Would frightened men let a major decision rest on something so frivolous as a battle between champions? Of course not. That's what they hope we and the Steppemen will think. Then they can drive a harder bargain with the winner.»

Blade grimaced. The reasoning of the Seven Brothers made a good deal of sense, if Prince Durouman was right about it.

Unfortunately, that reasoning was going to put him squarely in the middle of a duel to the death!