Guardians Of The Coral Throne

Chapter 21

Blade wasn't surprised to awake chained hand and foot in a smelly, damp darkness. He was surprised to wake up at all. For some reason or other, his head was still on his shoulders. It ached abominably, but it was still there. How much longer it would stay there, Blade didn't know. But for the time being he was alive, and that was always more useful than being dead.

On that thought he went back to sleep.

The next time he awoke he realized that three things had changed. His head hurt a good deal less. The wooden surface under him was heaving slowly up and down and from side to side, creaking loudly as it did so. Somebody was standing over him, looking down at him.

Blade looked up at the somebody. There was enough light to make out a man clad in a loincloth, nearly as tall as Blade and a good deal wider. The man's black hair and beard were enormously long, thick, and tangled. The high cheekbones and arched nose showed Nessiri blood. The eyes that looked down at Blade showed a glint of amusement.

«Well, friend. So you are with us again?»

«I suppose you could say that,» replied Blade cautiously.

«I just did. Welcome aboard the Green Gull.»

So the movement and creaking was that of a ship at sea. «If you can call this a welcome.» Blade made a gesture that took in the whole dismal hold.

The man threw back his head and roared with laughter until his massive paunch was shaking. Then he sobered abruptly. «I'd best not enjoy myself too much, or even Thickhead'll realize something's afoot.»

«Thickhead?»

«Captain Gazes, if you're wanting to be formal.»

Blade struggled into a more comfortable position. «All right. So now I know who Thickhead is. Who are you? What are you doing down here? And where are we going?»

The big man squatted down on his haunches and looked shrewdly at Blade. «What will you do to me if I don't say anything at all?»

«Pull that damned beard of yours out by the roots the first chance I get,» snapped Blade. «That'll do for a start.» He wondered if he could reach out a leg far enough to hook this clown's feet out from under him.

Instead of getting angry, the big Nessiri looked as though he was going to burst out laughing again. Then he sat down cross-legged on the deck and looked at Blade.

«Well. I can see you're a fighting man. That's what I suspected. Probably somebody pretty good, too, or they wouldn't have shaved your head to keep people from recognizing you. You're the first fighting man Green Gull's had on her slave deck since Thickhead started trusting me. That's good. You and me, together, maybe we can take this ship and do a little something with her. I know places where we can get a full crew of people who'd be glad to help us turn pirate.»

For a moment Blade felt as though he had been hit on the head again. He had just been told he was imprisoned aboard Green Gull, probably a slave. Now he was being offered a chance to break out and turn pirate. What sort of lunatic was he dealing with here?

But the man sounded both sane and sincere, as far as Blade could tell. Certainly if the big Nessiri was offering him any kind of chance, it might not be a bad idea to take it. This wasn't Scador. He didn't have to worry about Tera any more. Here, what he needed to think about was avenging her.

Blade smiled. «You still haven't told me who and what you are,» he said.

The big man nodded. «Name's Gursun. Nessiri, I suppose you've guessed. A warrior, once, but the Karani took me fifteen years ago. I've turned into a damned good slave, though. That's why Captain Thickhead trusts me, and why I've started thinking about taking the ship and turning pirate. I'm still young enough to die like a warrior, by all the gods!»

«What do I have to do with all this?»

«I figured quite some time back that with two really good fighters I could take the ship. There's only thirteen sailors besides Thickhead. Only five of them're much good in any sort of fight.»

«You've seen them in action?» Blade didn't expect an answer to the question. What he wanted was to remind Gursun that he was an experienced fighter who wouldn't take anything on trust.

«Enough times to guess pretty good what they're like.»

«All right. Go on.»

Blade's suddenly starting to give orders didn't seem to bother Gursun. That was good. The man wasn't so mad or proud that there would be no way of getting along with him except doing what he said. Blade was perfectly willing to obey ten madmen, let alone one, if it would get him off this ship and back to where he could strike at Iscaros and Amadora. But he would much rather not have to.

He suddenly realized that he was horribly thirsty. «Before we go on-could I have some water?»

Gursun nodded, vanished briefly, and returned with a large clay jug. The water was cool and refreshing; it washed the sour dryness out of Blade's mouth and finished clearing up his head. When Blade had finished drinking, Gursun went on.

In a fight the other eight crewmen could be taken care of by releasing the other nine slaves aboard Green Guild. The nine didn't know much about fighting, but they did know a good deal about hating their masters.

Blade laughed. «So far so good.» He held up his chained hands. «How are you going to get these off me?»

It seemed that Captain Gazes was fond of having Gursun wrestle other captain's slaves. Usually he won. Considering his barrel-like torso and tree-trunk arms and legs, that wasn't surprising. Gursun looked powerful enough to give even Duke Pardes a stiff fight.

«Fact is, I've won a good bit of money for old Thickhead, with bets and all. Hasn't given me a penny, but it's all there in his strongbox, I'm sure. I'm getting kind of a reputation, so the betting's falling off. But if there was another slave aboard, a real good fighter, he and I could put on shows. No betting, but Gazes could rake in some money letting people watch. It doesn't take much to tempt that greedy bastard.»

«I see. He'll naturally have to unchain me and have us work out a few times to see what I'm like. One of those times-«Blade shrugged «-we move.»

Gursun nodded. «Right. With luck, he'll have us do one or two rounds when we're well out to sea. That means we'll not be having any patrol ships butting in. We can slip the bodies over the side real quiet, and then away we go.»

Away you go, Blade thought. I won't be going with you, unless you're going back toward Iscaros and Amadora. If you try to keep me from going where I want, you're likely to go over the side yourself.

But that was something to worry about when and if the time came. For the moment, Gursun was a fairly good ally, and would have been so even if he hadn't also been the only one!

Gursun took Blade's silence for agreement, and vanished again. Blade spent some time testing the strength of his chains, discovering that he wasn't going to break free without help. Then he went back to sleep. He had always been able to sleep more or less at will. It was a handy gift when he could never be sure if he might need his full strength.

Gursun woke him up by putting another pot of water and a half-loaf of coarse black bread on the deck beside him. Then the Nessiri bent over and whispered in Blade's ear.

«We've got a problem, my friend.»

«How so?»

«Thickhead says he's got orders to turn you over to some officer on the island of Skadros. He's not supposed to let you out of the chains until then.» Gursun stood up and looked down at Blade for a moment. «I'm beginning to wonder if you might be somebody important. There's a certain general who's missing, they say. Used to be an Arena slave and then a Guardian. But he did something for the Boy Emperor and got promoted. Know anything about that?»

Blade shrugged. «Even if I did, why should I tell you? It won't make any difference why I'm here if I can't get out of these chains and fight. If I can, we can worry about other things later.»

«You're talking sense,» said Gursun. «But we've got a problem if Thickhead won't let you out. Skadros is only seven days away, so we've got to move fast. We may get only one chance.»

Blade considered this. «Suppose you say I've insulted you in all sorts of unforgivable ways. You'd like to take me up on deck and pound some manners into me in front of the whole crew and the other slaves. You think I'm too damned proud, and all the rest. Of course, you'll be happy to wait until we're too far out to sea for me to swim ashore, but-«

Gursun choked back a laugh. «It might work. Thickhead doesn't like slaves with a mind of their own. He thinks I'm the kind of 'good' slave who agrees with him.» Gursun spat into the bilge at the idea. «I'll give Thickhead the idea, and see what he thinks. Meanwhile I'll see about getting you regular food and water.» He frowned. «You realize we're only likely to get one chance? You won't be having a chance to look the ship over beforehand.»

«I know. But do you have a better idea?»

Gursun shook his head and vanished again.

Blade counted the days by Gursun's visits with bread and water. By the end of the fourth day he was beginning to get worried. Green Gull must be more than halfway to Skadros by now. Once there, the odds against his escaping would be much longer.

But on the morning of the fifth day, Gursun at last set Blade's mind to rest. «I've talked the old bastard around. You'll be brought up late this afternoon by some of the sailors.»

«Should I jump them right off?»

Gursun shook his head. «Wait until we're together and can guard each other's backs. I'll give the signal. It's a piece of luck that we'll be doing it late in the afternoon. By the time we're finished it'll be getting dark. We can give any nosy bastards the slip in the night.»

Blade relaxed as well as he could as the hours passed. Under him he could feel that Green Gull was rolling more than usual. Was the weather topside turning against them?

Blade wasn't worried about having to fight on a heaving ship's deck. He had done it before. But if the weather got too bad, Gazes would be having second thoughts about the fight.

So he was pleasantly surprised when three armed sailors came down into the hold. One stood back by the ladder with a loaded crossbow aimed at Blade. The other two silently unlocked his chains.

One of them drew a sword and prodded Blade to his feet. «Up on deck, you loudmouthed pig. Gursun's going to teach you some manners while we watch.» Blade replied with a glare and a surly growl. «None of that, now!» snapped the sailor, jabbing the sword-point in deep enough to draw blood. Blade unfolded himself and strode toward the ladder, glowering at the sailors as he went.

On deck he was not surprised to see that the wind had risen and the sky turned gray. Green Gull was slogging her way across an ocean flecked with whitecaps. Spray was coming in over the bow, and the deck amidships was already slick and wet.

Twelve of the sailors and all of the slaves were already on deck. Blade mentally noted their positions. Good. Three of the sailors were manning the helm, which would keep them out of action until it was too late. Captain Gazes himself was standing within easy range of where Blade and Gursun were going to be fighting.

Gursun stepped forward, his face twisted up in a dramatic glare as he looked at Blade. He stepped up to Blade, spat on the deck at his feet, then slapped him twice, hard enough to sting. Blade fixed his eyes on Gursun and spat in his turn.

«Your mother slept with dogs and swine,» he growled, loud enough to be heard above the wind and sea.

«Can you fight with anything except your mouth, you son of a poxed bitch?»

Blade danced back from Gursun, then pivoted and aimed a blow at the Nessir's shoulder. The other man spun in turn, catching the blow on his upper arm and riding with it. He continued the turn and came out of it into a kick aimed at Blade's groin. It was Blade's turn to swing aside, catching the oncoming foot on his hip.

They'd agreed to fight just long enough to warm up properly. That took less than five minutes. By that time both Blade and Gursun had a few bruises, but neither felt at all tired or slowed down. Looking around, they saw that everyone was too busy wondering what would happen next to be thinking of anything else.

They would never have a better chance. Their eyes met, and they moved toward each other, grappled, and swung each other around. They grunted and groaned and swore at each other like a couple of Home Dimension wrestlers hamming it up for the TV cameras.

Then Gursun squeezed Blade's arm, and pushed him away hard. Blade reeled backward, straight at Captain Gazes. Gazes cursed and leaped to one side. He was not fast enough to get out of Blade's range. As Blade passed, he chopped sideways and down with the edge of his right hand. He struck Gazes in the neck. The captain staggered, but he couldn't do anything else before Blade hooked his feet out from under him. Gazes crashed to the deck, and Blade stamped one foot down hard on his chest. Blood sprayed over the deck and Blade's legs as Gazes' ribs caved in.

Two sailors beyond the captain were the first to recover from their surprise. They charged Blade, swords drawn. Gursun dashed in, caught one sailor by his pigtail, jerked him within reach, and clamped both huge hands on the man's neck. Blade sidestepped the other sailor's rush, caught him by the waist and one arm, and wheeled around. The crossbow went spung, but the bolt sank into the chest of the sailor Blade was using as a shield. Blade dropped the body and snatched up the man's sword. He tossed it into the air, caught it by the point, estimated its balance, and threw it. Like a spear it whistled through the air, and like a spear it caught the crossbowman in the stomach. The man stood there for a moment, looking down in stunned and painful surprise at the sword buried up to its hilt in his stomach. Then he screamed, staggered back against the railing, and let go of the crossbow. It vanished over the side, and the splash was lost in the sounds of wind and sea.

Gursun finished strangling his man, grabbed his sword, and threw the body at three other sailors. One of them went down, and Gursun waded into the other two. He kept them off Blade long enough for the Englishman to kneel and collect a sword and a bunch of keys from Gazes' body. He threw the keys to the chained line of slaves, shifted the sword to his right hand, and sprang to his feet.

A sailor rushed in with a spear aimed at Blade. He chopped down at the shaft with his sword, cutting off a foot of the spear and several fingers of the sailor. Before the man could even open his mouth to scream, Blade swung the sword in an overhead arc. It split the sailor's skull down the middle and he was dead before he started to sag to the deck. As he went down, Blade jerked his sword free and waded into the battle beside Gursun.

To the sailors of Green Gull it must have seemed as if two monsters from the depths of the sea were loose on their decks. The two roared and bellowed curses and war-cries. They slashed and thrust with their swords, lopping off arms and legs and heads, chopping open chests and bellies and heads. Blood flowed back and forth across the deck now as the ship rolled. There seemed to be no way to attack the two mad giants. Those who tried died at once. Those who tried to flee died a little later.

Then the slaves who had now unlocked themselves joined the fight. They snatched up fallen swords, spears, and used their chains and their bare hands if they couldn't find a weapon. At that, the last courage left the sailors who were still resisting. Two of them died under the slaves' charge, beaten and kicked and stamped and stabbed until they looked like bloody sides of meat rather than anything human. The other two sprang onto the railing and hurled themselves over the side. Even death in the sea seemed better than what awaited them on the decks of what had been until a few minutes ago their own ship.

The three sailors manning the helm were still manning it. But their faces had turned the color of the whitecaps and they had drawn their swords. Blade waved his own bloody sword in the direction of the helmsmen and shouted to them.

«Surrender-now! We've got the ship and we can come up and get you if we want to. But maybe you're worth saving, if you behave right!»

Gursun caught Blade's arm and whispered fiercely in his ear. «What in the-? We don't want to leave one of those lice alive if we can-«

«Yes we do,» said Blade in a low, firm voice. «I know ships just as well as you do. We're going to have a tricky time getting this ship back to land in this weather even with them to help us.»

«But-«

«Look, I didn't go in with you on this to drown in a shipwreck just a few hours later. Those sailors know the situation too. They know that if they play any games they'll drown if we don't cut their throats first. We can trust them as long as we need to, I think.»

«And afterwards?»

«Afterwards we can do anything we want with them,» said Blade. «But not now.»

Gursun shrugged. «All right. I'd almost rather risk shipwreck than leave anyone alive who could talk about what we've done. But you're right. They won't find anyone to talk to until we're safe on shore. By then I don't imagine they'll be in too good shape to talk.» He drew his hand across his throat in a slitting gesture.

Gursun cupped his hands and roared at the three helmsmen. «All right. You can live! Now-drop those swords and stay where you are until we tell you differently. You've got until I count five. One, two, three, f-«

Two swords clattered to the deck and one flew over the side. One of the helmsmen sagged to the deck, half-fainting with relief. Gursun strode across to the quarterdeck ladder and scrambled up beside the three white-faced men. He was brandishing his own sword ferociously.

«Now! Get ready to come about. We're going to head for shelter, and you're coming with us!» He turned to the six bloodstained slaves who were still on their feet. «Bend on to the mainsail halyard, you clowns! You're free now, but by the gods we've got a bit of sailing to do!»

Gursun's bull-roars seemed to shock the slaves out of their paralysis. Like arthritic old men they moved slowly across the bloody and body-strewn deck to the rope Gursun indicated. Hands trembling with excitement gripped it, and wide, unbelieving eyes turned toward Gursun for the next order.

In spite of unwilling or unskilled help, Gursun brought the ship about safely. Blade stayed on deck until Green Gull steadied on her new course, in case an extra pair of hands were needed after all. Then he went below, to search the late Captain Gazes' cabin and belongings.

Blade had to take Gazes' cabin apart almost piece by piece and splinter by splinter, with an axe, a crowbar, a hammer, and his bare hands. He worked up a sweat, he strained muscles, he bruised fingers and toes, he worked splinters of wood into feet and knees and had to work them out with a knife blade sterilized over a candle flame. But it was all worth it and ten times more.

He found Gazes' private hoard of gold and silver, almost enough to buy Green Gull all over again. He found the lists of the cargo for this voyage, a cargo that included over a hundred sets of weapons and armor for the soldiers of the garrison of Skadros. He found a copper tube, with lead seals at each end bearing the arms of Count Iscaros. He found a letter from Iscaros to Captain Gazes, telling him to turn over without fail the sealed tube and Special Prisoner 8 to Baron Descares on Skadros.

When Blade chopped open the sealed tube, he found another letter. This one was from Princess Amadora to Descares, giving him instructions about keeping the Lord Blade safely confined. It seemed that Blade was to be kept carefully hidden on Skadros until the proper moment. That proper moment would come when Amadora thought the Emperor Jores might be willing to dismiss Duke Pardes in return for Blade's safety.

Of course the Emperor might not be willing to make such a bargain. In which case Blade could be disposed of at Descares' leisure, in any way that guaranteed his body would never be found and his disappearance would remain a mystery forever.

They could hear Blade's laughter all over the ship when he finished reading the letter. It was a magnificent irony. If Amadora and Iscaros had simply slit his throat and dropped him in the nearest river, they could have been safe. Dead men wreak no vengeances and mysteriously vanished ones inspire few avengers.

But they were to sophisticated for that. They wanted Blade alive, for the time being at least, to be a piece in their deadly games once more. So they put him aboard a ship, the same ship that carried messages enough to be their own death warrants if discovered. Now the ship was in Blade's hands and so were the messages. The arch-intriguers had intrigued once too often, and intrigued themselves right into Blade's hands.