CHAPTER EIGHT

If Blade had suddenly sprouted a second head with long, flowing purple hair, Nayung could not have looked at him with more shock and surprise. The Zungan's mouth opened and shut several times like that of a dying fish before he said:

«That is sacrilege.»

Blade shook his head. «Nayung, consider. Who respects the Ulungas most? A man who bribes them to give judgments to advance his political plans? Or one who respects them in all things until they put the whole people of Zunga in danger? In fact, can the Ulungas even be respecting themselves if they play with the future of the Zungans in this way? If the Zungans are the protected and beloved of the Sky Father, is it not the greatest sacrilege of all to endanger their future? Nayung, perhaps going before Afuno without the permission of the Ulungas is sacrilege. But it is not the greatest sacrilege, nor is it the first. Sacrilege already swarms around the Zungans like carrion birds around a dead animal.»

Nayung's face had remained frozen in its first astonishment while Blade talked. When Blade fell silent, Nayung still showed no change of expression for a moment. Then with an almost imperceptible jerk of his head, he said, «Yes, I suppose you are right. The Sky Father must understand what we do, if he protects the Zungans as the Ulungas themselves say he does. But how are we to do this thing without being instantly killed? The Ulungas will not wait for the Sky Father to take vengeance for this. Their guards will attack us at once, the moment we step toward the king.»

Blade slammed a clenched fist down into his palm.. «That is exactly what I want! Do the guards ever throw their spears?»

Again Nayung looked shocked. «To throw a spear is contrary to the laws given by the Sky Father. Except for the king,» he added.

«No doubt,» said Blade. «And I suppose the Ulungas' guards have to be particularly careful to obey the laws. Besides, those spears are not very good for throwing as they are now. In a few days I could show you how to make something so much better!»

«Blade,» said Nayung. «We were talking of approaching the king. Why do you want the guards to attack us?»

«I should have said, attack me. Remember, I took six of you without a scratch there in the forest. And I wasn't using a spear.»

«Just that stick.»

«Just that stick,» said Blade, nodding. «With a spear, I think I can hold off just about any number of the Ulungas' guards until the king notices me.»

Nayung laughed. «Blade, if you start a fight in the royal circle or anywhere near it, King Afuno will notice it about one breath after it begins. He may even climb down from the throne platform and take a hand in the fight if his daughters will let him.»

«Do his daughters have that much influence over him?» asked Blade.

Nayung's smile broadened. «Ah, Blade, I see where that thought is taking you. I do not blame you. If they were not royal, all five of Afuno's daughters would have been wed years ago. Even the youngest is beautiful, and Aumara is the most beautiful of the five. Half the warriors in Zunga would take such a woman with no bride price at all. But Afuno will never consider giving Aumara to a warrior not of the Zungans, even if he does not commit 'sacrilege' before the king's very eyes. Think of some other women of the Zungans.»

«You think of your plan,» said Blade rather testily. «Even if I were interested in being King of Zunga I would still have to survive our little demonstration for Afuno.» He hoped Nayung was convinced by this. If Nayung got to suspecting that Blade was aiming at the Zungan throne, he would be much less willing to cooperate in Blade's plans. And Blade needed the Zungan's cooperation for quite a while to come.

As if he had read the last part of Blade's thoughts, Nayung asked, «Blade, while you are fighting the guards and risking your life, what am I doing? Do I simply stand about like a carved wooden image of the Sky Father in the House of the Ulungas? It will not be to my honor to let a friend risk his life for me when I am doing nothing.»

«Don't worry,» said Blade. «When I start fighting with the guards, you step forward until you can easily be seen and heard by Afuno. Then you explain to him who I am, what I am doing, and what I can do for the Zungans. Choose the most convincing words, and shout them out loud and clear so everybody can hear you.»

Nayung nodded. «I understand, Blade. It is a good idea. But why do you insist on doing this fighting with the Ulungas' guards? Why do you not just let me call out to Afuno, and hear his answer before you act?»

«You do not quite understand, Nayung. If you go up to the royal circle and shout at Afuno, the spokesmen for the Ulungas will simply point out that you are a man forbidden to approach the king. The guards may kill you on the spot for that. They will certainly seize you and rush you away before you can speak. Almost nobody will remember the incident. Those who do will be told by the Ulungas that it is against the laws of the Zungans to talk about a case of sacrilege. Afuno will never get a chance to see what I can do, nor will anybody else.

«But if I fight with the guards, I will show Afuno and his daughters and many hundreds of Zungans what I can do. What the English fighting arts can do. The Ulungas will not be able to tell that many people to ignore or forget what they have seen. If the Ulungas even try, they will show that they have more regard for the ancient laws and their own power than they do for the future of the Zungans. I think your people are not the kind to take that very well.»

Nayung shook his head.

«Besides,» Blade concluded, «there is honor among the warriors of the English also. It is much like that of the Zungans. I cannot let a friend go into danger to help me while I stand in safety outside the fight, any more than you can.» He stuck out his hand to Nayung, and after a moment's hesitation the warrior took it.

They now decided to return to Nayung's house, break their fast, and finish working out the details of their plan. They were just turning into the lane that led to the compound of the D'bors when the roar of at least a dozen iron gongs being savagely beaten came booming over the roofs and walls. Nayung started and stopped dead.

«The assembly call to the people!»

«What does it mean?»

«Mean?» Nayung looked at Blade in astonishment, and also in more than a little fear. «It means that all the people of Brona are to assemble in the great open field. King Afuno is arriving right now!»

Blade threw up his hands in mock despair and said, «The Sky Father seems to want to play jokes on us today. Well, we know most of what we need to do: Tell me, quickly, about these assemblies.»

Nayung's words raced off his tongue. «The king, the princesses, and certain advisers stand or sit inside the royal circle. Outside that circle is a ring of the Royal Guards. Outside the Royal Guards is another circle, the Ulungas' circle, where the Speakers for the Ulungas stand. Outside the speakers are the Ulungas' guards.»

«Is there room to fight in the Ulungas' circle?»

Nayung nodded.

«All right, then. I'll only plan on getting through the Ulungas' guards. Then I'll do my fighting in the Ulungas' circle. You get in close enough to the Ulungas' guards so that you can be sure the king will hear you when you shout. But don't get too close. The Ulungas' guards will probably know what the Ulungas have said to you. One more thing-will the Royal Guards join in the fight?»

«Not unless you look dangerous to the king.»

«You should be able to convince King Afuno that I'm not a danger to him, only to the enemies of the Zungans. If not-well, we must leave the Sky Father with something to do, and not plan everything ourselves.»

«Blade, I think sometimes that you are mad, to talk as you do of the Sky Father and the Ulungas. Or else you are a spirit of the Sky Father given the form of a man and sent down to help the Zungans. I wish I knew which.»

Blade slapped Nayung on the shoulder. «Neither, my friend. Only a warrior who has traveled farther and seen more than most Zungans. But this is no time for talking. Let's go.»

Blade's feet kept itching to break into a run as they headed down the lane toward the assembly field. But he knew nothing would be more certain to attract attention. Besides, the crowd of people heading for the field would have made running almost impossible in any case. Warriors, women and children, even household slaves-everybody was on the move.

Many hundreds of people had already crowded toward the circle by the time Blade and Nayung reached it. But the two men were able to slip to within a few yards of the Ulungas' guards. There were about a hundred of these, stationed in pairs at six-foot intervals around the outside of their circle. Of each pair, one stood facing outward toward the crowd, one inward toward the Ulungas' circle.

The sun was now well up in the sky and beating savagely down on the open field. Blade was glad he was wearing his turban, in spite of the curious and sometimes hostile looks it drew. But the turban could not keep out the smell that was rising from hundreds of unwashed bodies as the sun worked on them. For the moment Blade's empty stomach was holding its peace, but he wondered if that would last as the crowd grew.

As more and more people came, a tremendous din of voices added itself to the smells. Women's and children's voices almost entirely, though. The warriors stood in the blazing sun like so many mahogany statues, the only words coming from their sections of the crowd were the barks of orders.

Suddenly, the iron gongs sounded again. This time in a definite four-beat pattern. As the heavy metallic sounds rolled out across the field, the warriors took up the rhythm, stamping their feet, shaking their spears in the air, and shouting, «Hi! Ho! Ya! Ha!» in time to the gongs. The noise swelled to a deafening roar that tore at Blade's ears and made him seriously consider putting his hands over them. Beside him, Nayung was chanting and stamping with the best of them, and Blade finally decided he should join in.

He had just done so when a new noise cut through the uproar-the deep bray of a horn. In a second the gongs stopped and the chanting died away. In the next second someone in the section of warriors to Blade's right shouted an order. Every one of the hundreds of warriors in the section did a perfect simultaneous about-face. Then another order sounded, and they stepped forward, again moving as one man. In perfect order and formation the whole section marched out of the crowd into the open field, dressing its lines and keeping step as it did so with no apparent effort.

Now a solid wall of warriors three ranks deep came marching across the field toward the crowd, led by half a dozen men blowing the long horns Blade had heard. Behind the warriors appeared six large, carved wooden chairs, each apparently floating along in midair several feet above the ground. As the whole group approached, Blade saw that each chair was mounted on a platform borne by four of the Zungan cattle. In five of the chairs sat young women-one in fact was only a girl-but in the lead chair sat a man. Blade hardly needed Nayung's whispers to know this was King Afuno. Nor did he wait to go down on his knees when everyone around him started doing so, Fortunately there seemed to be no taboo about looking at the king. Blade examined the man carefully as his chair passed down the corridor left by the withdrawal of the section of warriors.

He might have been anywhere from fifty to seventy, but obviously he was still in magnificent physical condition. He was nearly as tall as Blade's six-feet plus, and every bit as muscular. He wore a loincloth of solid blue, worked with bright red figures, and held a spear in each hand. One spear had a red shaft, one a black, and both had gilded heads. That was all Blade could see before the king passed into the royal circle and for the moment out of Blade's field of vision.

Behind the king came the five chairs with the princesses. As the first one moved past, Nayung nudged Blade and whispered, «Aumara.» But Blade would have known the princess without Nayung's prompting. She sat straight and proud in the chair, head slightly raised by the massive golden collar around her neck. That collar and a red loincloth were her only garments. Even seen in profile, the straight-back, the high, full breasts, and the flawlessly curved legs were unmistakable-and exciting. As the other four princesses were carried past, Blade could not deny that Aumara was first in beauty as well as in place.

The last of the princesses vanished into the circle. Three barked orders sounded in the silence. There was a stamping of feet and a clattering of spears as the Royal Guards took up their positions around the royal family, then silence again. The king had arrived.

Again Nayung nudged Blade, and whispered in his ear.

«Are you ready, Blade?»

«Ready? Now? Why?»

«You said we wanted to get much attention. We will get the most attention now, before the king speaks. And we should move before the warriors come back into that space,» he said, pointing off to the right.

Blade nodded. The Zungan was right on all points. Was there any reason besides his own nerves to delay? He could think of none. He took one, two, three slow steps to the right, until there was only one row of people separating him from the open space. Several of the people turned to look at him and Nayung, with open hostility on their faces. Then in a single motion he pushed through the row and dashed down the open lane toward the Ulungas' guards.

Загрузка...