Liberator Of Jedd

Chapter Fifteen

During the next few hours Blade saw much to admire in Nizra. The old man was competent and cool and his brain was fertile. And the Wise One commanded unquestioning obedience from his servants and soldiers. Blade was washed and trimmed and given undergarments and a robe as rich as those of Nizra himself. He was given another sword, a better-made one with a hilt adorned with raw, uncut jewels which Blade could have sworn were rubies and diamonds. When questioned about the gems, Nizra said, with indifference, that they came from mines in the surrounding mountains. They were gewgaws, of no real value and used only for show. Such was the Jedd thinking. Blade made a resolve to see those mines as soon as possible.

During the past few months, back in Home Dimension, he had undergone a rigorous and much-telescoped course in geology. Lord L had insisted on it, J had concurred, and Blade, who could do anything when he was interested and set his mind to it, was by now a good amateur geologist, something of a mining engineer. And besides being able to recognize most ores, he was somewhat qualified to judge oil-bearing terrain when and if he came upon it. Now, as he stood peering out a narrow window at the filthy, twisting streets of Jeddia and the mountains beyond, he thought that Project DX might at last begin to pay its way. To return some of the millions of pounds that had been invested in it. All it needed was for the hardworking boffins in Scotland to perfect the science of teleportation.

All that must wait. Survival, prestige, power and status were the important things at the moment. He could accomplish nothing without the latter three, and although survival was as important to Blade as to any man, it would mean little if he could not do his job. He wanted desperately, this time, to take good news back to Lord L and J — and the Prime Minister. News of tangible assets that could be exploited by England.

He watched a death cart creak slowly through the streets not far from him. The yellow-garbed corpseburner paused at nearly every house and waited while a body was brought out and flung into the cart atop the others already sprawled there. Nizra had said that the Yellow Death, this time, was the worst in the memory of the Jedds, and it showed no sign of abating. Blade filed the fact away. It might be a lever he could use one day.

He watched the slow progress of the cart toward the city gates and the dirty smudge of fires from the charnel pits. His lips twitched in a wry smile. Nizra had gotten rid of the guards' bodies in a simple and highly efficient manner — by calling a death cart and having them flung into it and hidden by other bodies. No questions had been asked.

Blade thought of Ooma and, for a moment, experienced a tenderness and a sudden rush of sexual desire. He pushed both out of his mind. Ooma was safe with her aunts and the fat Mok, and so she must remain for now. When the time was right, if it ever was, he would send for her. Or at least go to see her. He did not think that she would come seeking him. Fear of the plague would keep her out of the city. Not that the Yellow Death did not stalk the countryside as well. It did, but the chances of catching it were less in open country than in the crowded and dirty city.

Blade continued to stare out the window. The cart had reached the gates now and was passing out of his view. Blade tugged at his ear and frowned. Rats were unknown in Jedd. He had not seen one and neither Ooma nor Mok had known what a rat was. And insofar as he knew there were no fleas in Jedd. He watched as a window opened down the street and a woman poured the contents of a clay pot down into the street. She drenched a passerby, and there was a great contention.

Blade stepped away from the window and closed it. There was the answer. Human filth. Especially in the city. The Jedds wallowed in it and thought it nothing. Great reeking masses of human excreta clogged the streets and, over the stench of the corpse fires, the city smelled like one vast urinal. Through the closed window, from afar, came the sound of manic laughter as another unfortunate went into the final throes. Blade shrugged, but his spine I was cold. It was not a way for a man like himself to die. What was delaying the Wise One?

Nizra, once the bodies were disposed of and his plans made, had been in a tearing hurry to take a barge and get to the pavilion in the lake. He had minced no words with Blade.

«Time works against us. If the Jeddock dies before I can arrange matters, that she recognize you as the avatar spoken of in the Books, I cannot promise the future. All the captains of the palace wish power and each plots against the others. They are in unity only against me. Thus far I have managed to keep them divided and weak, but when the old lady dies it will be another story. Then will come the showdown. We need each other, Blade.»

So Blade waited, pacing the little room impatiently. He had promised Nizra that he would not venture out and indeed had no wish to do so. Still he was beset by anxiety— the terrible pain might return at any moment and Lord L snatch him back before his task was done. Or he might catch the Yellow Death and die laughing in torment. Or Nizra might suffer a change of mind and betray him, have him slain out of hand. With all these doubts to plague him, it was little wonder that Blade was in a foul mood when at last Nizra came into the room. By the slant of sun through the window, it was well past midday.

«You were long enough,» Blade said roughly. «How does it prosper?»

Nizra fingered his chain of office and nodded, his huge head bobbing like a balloon on a string. «Well enough. I told my story of the vision and she believed. Or seemed to. She is always in and out of coma and it is hard to know how much she hears and understands. And she is very close to death. Are you ready? There is not a moment to lose. I had private speech with her, but the captains are alert and prowling like lice on a corpse. If the Empress dies before we can get her blessing and recognition, Blade, we are likely to find ourselves in a chancy spot.»

Blade, as he left the house with Nizra and an escort, thought that he had cast his die and must now abide it, but that he might have chosen a better ally. One of the disgruntled captains, for instance — the one most likely to win out. But there had been no time, nor sufficient knowledge for that, and now he and Nizra were bound together for better or worse. For the time being.

They were barged out to the pavilion with great panoply. The music was, as always, sad and sweet and bitter with death, with now and then a lively passage in memory of youth and life. Blade, himself the target of many curious stares, was aware that men hated Nizra. It was evident in the sullen looks, the mutterings, the barely-concealed defiance. Again Blade felt unease. He was plunging farther and farther into a maze that might have no exit. And, being sponsored by the Wise One, he might very well inherit a whirlwind that he had not sown.

They docked at the pavilion and Nizra, taking second place, bowed Blade out of the barge with great obsequiousness. The play had begun.

The pavilion, a large floating platform anchored to the lake bottom, was covered with a high-ridged tent of bleached cloth. There were many small compartments and one spacious chamber where the old Empress lay like a mummy in an enormous bed. The musicians were invisible behind a cloth screen at one end of the chamber.

As they approached the death chamber, Nizra nudged Blade and indicated a little group of men clustered around the entrance. «The captains,» he whispered. «Like corpse-birds awaiting a meal. Five of them. Observe them well, Blade, without seeming to, for they are my enemies and also yours the moment you are pronounced avatar.»

Blade did not need to be told. There could be no mistaking the enmity of the five men who waited outside the double-draped entrance to the royal chamber. Blade, long skilled in such matters, read the situation at a glance. They were like five pages in a familiar book: hate, envy, greed, pride, arrogance, self-righteousness — and doubt. Doubt! Doubt about Blade himself, as to who and what he really was. In that doubt, Blade knew, lay his temporary respite and hope. Keep them guessing.

Nizra whispered again. «I must make you known to them, and now is as good a time as any. Play your part and do not appear surprised by anything I say. This is a time for boldness.»

Blade was a superb actor when he had to be and he needed to be one now. It was simple enough in essence. He was a superior being from a superior world and so he had only to play himself. He stiffened his back, raised his chin and stared with cold indifference as each captain was introduced in turn.

Nizra, with a mixture of humility and authority, fluttered his thin fingers from man to man: «Bucelus, Crofta, Holferne, Chardu — and Gath.»

Each captain inclined his head as his name was spoken. None but Gath offered his hand. The latter, when his turn came, stepped close to Blade and proffered his hand along with a steely glance from a pair of steady blue eyes. Blade took the hand and found that he had walked into a trap. This Gath was of slim build, though sturdy and wide-shouldered, and had enormous strength in his hands. His intent was apparent at once. His hand closed on that of Blade like a merciless steel vise and began to squeeze. His clear purpose was to make Blade cry out or even to sink to his knees and cry quits. The four other captains watched and Blade knew it had been prearranged. They were already testing the avatar who, so strangely and at such an opportune moment for Nizra, had fulfilled the promise of the Books of Birkbegn.

Blade, his face impassive, did not betray his first pain, though he felt the bones of his right hand being crushed to powder. He smiled at Gath and returned the pressure. Only for a moment did he doubt, then as the seconds passed he knew that he was the stronger. The great muscles of his forearm knotted and coiled as he exerted more and more of his strength. Gath, who had an open and friendly face above a flowing mustache and whose blue eyes lacked the hate and fear of the other captains, began to change expression. At first, surprise was predominant and Blade guessed that Gath had never been beaten at this game before. He squeezed harder and all heard the bones of Gath's hand grind together.

Gath's mouth was open now and beads of sweat started on his high forehead. Blade kept up an unrelenting pressure. Gath went suddenly to his knees with a little cry of pain. «Enough — enough! You are stronger. I, Gath of Jedd, admit it. Give me back my hand.»

Blade released him with a smile. «It was a good contest, Gath. I enjoyed it. You have great strength. When there is time we will try again.»

Gath was silent, ruefully contemplating his crushed hand, but one of the captains muttered, «He has strength, then. That does not prove him to be the avatar.»

Another captain said, «With that I agree. Nizra's visions are most convenient to his cause.»

Nizra, acting as if he had not heard, bustled Blade past them and into the great chamber. It was in semigloom and filled with the music. In a far corner, tiny on the huge bed, lay the unmoving figure of the old Empress. Nizra plucked at Blade's sleeve and whispered.

«Go to her now. I have done all I can. You saw the temper of those five and you know how much is at issue. If I am to serve you, Blade, and you me, we must have the blessing of the old woman. How you get it is your concern. Go.»

Blade walked slowly across the wooden floor of the chamber. The hidden music swirled on and on. Blade came to the side of the bed and stood looking down at the old woman who lay there. The face was a wrinkled skull — she might have been dead for weeks — and the eyes were closed. She was clothed in a single shroud-like garment and covered with a light coverlet so adjusted to the frail body that he could detect the bone structure. This old woman was, in truth, nothing but bones covered with a scant layer of brown parchment. Blade stood staring down at her, his arms crossed on his broad chest, and marveled that life could still flicker in so worn a vessel.

For a long time she did not stir. Her eyes remained closed, though he had a distinct impression that she knew he was there. He waited and, after a time, began to wonder. Perhaps she was dead.

The eyes opened and stared up at him. Clear, dark, old eyes in a wizened monkey face. Blade felt a shock at the intelligence in her eyes as they examined him from head to toe, in no hurry, roving back and forth over his big frame. Weighing and assaying him. At last the shriveled lips moved.

«You are he called Blade? He who came to Nizra in a vision? You are the avatar so long promised to my people by the Books?»

Blade nodded gravely. «I am he.»

There was a long silence. The clear eyes studied him again. At last the desiccated mouth twitched in what might have been a smile, a signal of inner laughter at a final jest.

In her surprisingly audible whisper she said, «Who is present? Do we speak alone?»

Blade glanced back at the entrance. Nizra waited there in the shadows, his hands buried in the sleeves of his robe, peering anxiously toward the bed.

Blade stepped nearer the pillow. «Nizra is in the chamber, but he cannot hear us. What would you say to me, Empress?»

When she spoke again the words came blurred and with what he knew must be a great effort of will.

«You are a liar,» said the old woman. «Nizra had no vision and you are no avatar. I know he is promised in the Books of Birkbegn, but those are all lies and the avatar will never come. But none of this matters. You are here and you are no Jedd. I see in you intelligence and great strength. So perhaps the Books do not lie so greatly after all, but keep their promise in another way. I am a great fool, Blade, as all Jedds are, but in some ways I am not a fool at all. I also have had dreams and private visions, many of them in my long life, and I told no one of them. Now you come and I will trust you. Whoever you are, from wherever you come, I now deliver my people into your hands. There is about you the look of a god, Blade, and yet I know you are no god. But perhaps you will serve. You will undertake this task? It is not an easy one.»

The old face crinkled again in what must have been laughter. «I should know. I have lived a long time and have never known any peace of mind. I have been forced to use such as Nizra because there was none better. How many Nizras have I tolerated and used because I must—»

She lapsed into silence. Her eyes closed and she breathed heavily and Blade knelt by the bed. Had she gone?

The ancient eyes flickered open. «Do not be afraid. I will live long enough to do what I must. So hear me — never trust Nizra. He is cunning and treacherous.»

Blade nodded. «This I already know, Empress.»

The living skull moved on the pillow. She was bald but for a few weak hairs that sprang like gray wires from the bone.

«You shall marry the Princess Mitgu, Blade, and lead my people from this valley. We Jedds have been here too long and so my people are born and die in misery. So this is my wish, Blade — when I am dead, you will rule, with Nizra to aid you, for that cannot be helped, and you will burn Jeddia and everything in it. Then you will take my people to the north, to the land of the Kropes and the Shining Gate. The destiny of the Jedds, whatever it is to be, lies there beyond the Gate. Go north, Blade. Go upward. It is forbidden to go back. You hear? You understand? You promise me this?»

Blade, mystified and far beyond his depth, could only nod and say: «I promise you this, Empress. I will do my best for your people. For the Jedds.»

The Empress tried to lift a hand, but the effort was too much. She whispered to him. «Then summon Nizra and all my captains. Make haste.»

They assembled at the bedside, the five captains on one side of the dying old woman, Blade and Nizra on the other. Nizra, now that things were going his way, was clever enough to remain silent and a step or two behind Blade. The captains were sullen and hard-faced, though respectful enough, and Crofta and Holferne had tears in their eyes. Only Gath deigned to glance at Blade. His blue eyes were speculative and, Blade thought, not unfriendly. He marked Gath as a possible ally in the future.

Somehow the old woman found strength to raise her voice. It filled the gloomy chamber, firm and without a quaver as she gave them all her final instructions. Richard Blade was the avatar, come to save the Jedd people. He had made certain promises to the Empress, and Nizra and the captains were to aid him in keeping those promises. Blade was their leader now and must be obeyed in all things. He had to marry the Child Princess Mitgu as soon after her death as was possible. These were her dying wishes and commands.

The old voice faltered at last. There was a moment of absolute silence save for the music. Blade stared across the bed at the captains and met only hatred and disbelief and enmity, except for the blue gaze of Gath. Behind him Nizra moved uneasily and his robe made a rustling sound. The music ceased abruptly. Somehow the musicians knew.

Nizra cleared his throat. Blade half turned, fixed the Wise One with a hard stare and raised a hand. This was his moment for taking charge.

Blade bent over the Empress as the others watched in silence. The eyes stared up at him. He closed them and pulled the coverlet over the face. Then he faced them all and gave commands, his voice calm and level and laden with poise and authority. His voice and his exterior carriage gave the sure impression that the orders of the dead Jeddock, and his own, would be carried out without any slightest question. It was one of the magnificent bluffs at which Blade was so adept.

He put extra depth into his voice and let the words roll out, orotund and sonorous, as befitted the new role he now played. Avatar! He who had been promised to the Jedds by the Books of Birkbegn.

«You,» he said to Crofta, «will make the funeral arrangements. Follow your customs in all things, but it must be done this day. If I am to keep my promises I have no time to waste. Go.»

Crofta, a swarthy fellow, stood in indecision for a moment, his helmet under his arm and one hand on his sword-hilt. He glanced uneasily at his fellow captains. They evaded his glance and watched Blade. Blade smiled inwardly and waited. None of them wanted to be first in direct opposition.

Crofta suddenly clicked his heels, bowed slightly and yielded Blade his first small victory and a title as well. «Yes, Sire Blade,» said the captain. «As you command. At once.» He hurried from the chamber.

Blade heard the faintest of chuckles behind him. Nizra. He ignored the man and pointed a finger at Bucelus.

«I do not know your order of command, and it does not concern me now. As of this moment you, Bucelus, are in high command of all the military. You have the entire authority and the responsibility. You will at once, on leaving this place, gather all your troops outside the city, on the plain to the north of Jeddia. All soldiers must be brought together and kept together until I order otherwise.»

Bucelus, a giant of a man and amazingly ugly, came near to scowling. «To the north, Sire? That is not wise. The Kropes watch always from the Shining Gate and they do not like soldiery in any degree north of the city. But perhaps you do not understand about the Kropes? I—»

Blade gave the man a cold stare. Kropes and the Shining Gate? He must know about these at once. But he said,

«Do as I bid you, man. Leave the Kropes and the Shining Gate to me.»

Bucelus left the chamber, muttering to himself.

Blade turned next to Holferne, a skinny little man nearly as bald as Nizra. «You, Holferne, will take as many men as you need and begin preparations for a march. Not for the army alone, but for all Jedds, everywhere in the city and the valley. This you will keep secret until I give the word, but I intend to take the entire population on trek. You will keep that in mind and begin assembling transport and food and water and anything else that is needful. I leave the details to you, but do it quickly and without fanfare. I will expect reports from time to time. Go now.»

Holferne glanced once at Chardu, the one remaining captain other than Gath, then bowed and clapped on his helmet and left without a word. Blade glanced at the Wise One. Nizra was not chuckling now. His great head was leaning to one side as he studied Blade with a puzzled expression on his face.

Blade looked at Chardu. «To you I will entrust a most sensitive task. You will tell no one why you do this or on whose orders you do it. You will, in great secrecy, make ready to burn the city to the ground.»

Nizra gasped aloud. «Burn Jeddia?»

Blade did not look at him. «It was my promise to the Empress. The city is a dungheap, rotten to the core, and breeds plague after plague. If you Jedds remain here you will in time all die the Yellow Death. You must know this, for each outbreak of plague is worse than the last. So make your preparations, Chardu. Assemble your firestuffs and your men so that when I tell you to begin, the city will burn in minutes. All this in secrecy for now. I have no wish to see rioting. Go and begin.»

Now only Gath was left of the captains. Blade smiled at him. Nizra plucked at Blade's sleeve but was ignored. Blade was playing for high stakes now and letting his intuition guide him. The next few moments would tell if that intuition lied.

Blade walked around the bed and approached the captain. Gath eyed him doubtfully. Blade held out his hand. «Another test of strength, my friend?»

Gath made to hold out his hand, then drew it back. His blue eyes narrowed, then widened and a hint of smile touched his well-formed mouth under the flowing mustache. «I think I will not, Sire. My hand still aches from our last try. I admit you stronger.»

J often said that when Richard Blade really tried he could charm the birds out of the trees and make fast friends of the serpent and sparrow. J's allusion had been, in the main, to Blade's prowess with women. But it could apply to men as well. And Blade was really trying now. He needed Gath and now he staked everything on his knowledge of men and his reading of character.

So he clapped Gath heartily on the shoulder and stared deep into the man's eyes. Gath gave him back stare for stare, his eyes unblinking and cool, yet with a latent promise of friendship.

Blade crossed his arms on his chest. Both men ignored Nizra, who was at the bedside staring down at the dead body of the Empress, his great head bowed on his scrawny chest.

«You I will not order,» said Blade to Gath. «I will ask you to be my first companion, my aide and chief lieutenant in all that I do, to trust and be trusted. I like you, Gath, and I would have you as my friend.' What do you say to this?»

Gath did not answer at once. He looked from Blade to the bed and the corpse there, and he stared long at the Wise One seemingly lost in contemplation. Blade sensed the struggle in the captain and said, «You know the situation in Jeddia, Gath. You know the caliber of your fellow captains, you understand what they are and what they want and how they would use power. Against all this I am new come and you know little of me. Yet this decision must be made by you alone. You can walk out now and be none the worse off because of me. I do not want or trust service that is not freely given.»

Gath met his eyes again. He nodded and pulled his short iron sword from the scabbard. Nizra looked up in alarm at the sound. Blade tensed.

Gath looked at Blade for a long moment, then kissed the hilt of his sword and extended it to Blade. Blade in turn kissed the hilt and handed it back to Gath. Then he extended his hand. Gath took it with a smile and this time there was no trial of strength. Gath took a last glance at his dead Empress.

«I will obey her last wishes,» he said gravely. «I still serve her. And I will serve you.»

Blade touched his shoulder again. «My thanks, Gath. You will find me loyal to my friends. And now listen well — you will form a bodyguard for me, say fifty of your best men, and, subject to my orders, you and they will not leave me. You will muster and disarm all other contingents in the city and throughout the valley, other than the regular military under the command of Crofta. This must be done at once.»

Gath could not restrain a grin as he looked at Nizra. That personage was staring at Blade in dismay, but said nothing.

«Yes,» said Blade. «Even the retinue of Nizra will be disbanded. He is my chief adviser now and in my care, and has no need for a private army. This will save him much expense.»

Nizra, ignoring them, went to a shadowy corner of the chamber, put his hands in his sleeves and began to pace back and forth. The head lolled from this side to that as he paced, and Blade would have given much to know what went on in the oversize skull.

«So I place my safety in your hands,» he told Gath. «And leave it to your conscience. Now — I am to marry the Child Princess Mitgu as soon as possible. This will be immediately after the funeral" — he nodded to the bed—"and just before we begin the trek to the north. You will make all arrangements for this wedding. But first you will arrange an audience for me with the Princess, for I must know her thoughts in this matter. If she does not wish marriage, there shall be none. And I tell you now, Gath, that you may tell others, if need be, that I understand that she is but a child and the marriage will be in name only. So I may keep my promise to the dead Empress. Between ourselves we may speak freely and I tell you plain that I am not the sort of man who wishes to bed a child.»

An odd look came over Gath's face. His blue eyes twinkled and his brushy mustache seemed to twitch. He asked, «You have not seen Mitgu, then? Have not met her? She who is known to the Jedds, among the common folk, as the Golden Princess?»

Blade admitted that he had not yet made the acquaintance of the little girl in question. This was not very strange, he added, since events were rushing at such a torrential pace.

Gath bowed and did not wholly succeed in repressing his smile. «You are strange here, Sire, and know little of Jedds. The Golden Princess, our Mitgu, is not such a child as you seem to think. But you must see for yourself. I will arrange it at once. Is there anything else you wish of me now?»

Blade glanced to where Nizra still paced in the shadows. «Only that you summon six good men, whom you trust, and post them about me before I leave this place. And that you pass this on to the other captains — there will be a council of war tonight in the house of Nizra at two hours past sundown. I want all the captains there, including yourself. You will be responsible for the safety of all.»

Gath saluted with his sword. «All shall be done.»

«Then my hand to you again,» said Blade. They shook hands once more and Gath left. Blade and Nizra were alone in the chamber with the corpse of the old woman.

Nizra spoke first. «I feared all this, Blade, but went against the warnings of my mind. I thought to use you and instead I have been used. It will be a lesson to me, if I live to profit by it.»

Blade was silent, watching the Wise One continue his pacing.

«What of it, Blade? Am I under arrest, then? Am I to be killed or kept prisoner?»

«None of those,» Blade said curtly. «So long as you make me no trouble and do not plot against me. I need you, Nizra, as much as I ever did. I need your wisdom and your vast knowledge of this city and the Jedds. Give me freely, without stint or self-interest, of that wisdom and knowledge, and we will get going. Until my work is done and I must go from here. After that I cannot help you and you and the captains must have it out. Until that time, if you do not play me false, I will be your friend. But understand one thing — I am leader. I alone give orders.»

Nizra came into the light of the tapers near the bed. He glanced across the withered corpse at Blade and a faint smile touched his tiny mouth.

«To all this I agree, Blade. Because I believe you when you say that you will go soon. So, as I am no fool— despite having been made to look like one this past hour — I will wait and bide my time. When the time comes I will handle the captains. So much for all that.

«And now — this trek you speak of to the north. To the Shining Gate and the land of the Kropes. It is ill-advised, Blade. Worse, it is an impossible madness. The Kropes have held the Jedds in thrall since time forgotten. To so much as approach the Shining Gate is sure death for all of us.»

«I know nothing of this,» said Blade. He nodded to the dead woman. «But it was her wish, and she was not as senile as you thought, Nizra. But I will listen and then decide. Tell me of the Kropes, Nizra, and of this Shining Gate.»

Nizra made a little bow and for once could not hide the bitterness and hate that boiled in that huge skull. «As you command, avatar.»

Blade smiled calmly. «Yes, Nizra. To all purposes I am the avatar. It was you who named me so, remember?»

«To my sorrow.»

«The Kropes, Nizra! The Shining Gate.»

Nizra told him. Blade listened with dismay clotting like lead in his chest. But he shook it off. It was simply another impossible task and he had, since the forays into Dimension X began, gotten quite accustomed to doing the impossible.