Liberator Of Jedd

Chapter Five

Blade had planned it well, diagramming his every movement beforehand. If only Ogar would cooperate.

Ogar knew that Blade was coming long before he stepped into the cave. He retreated to the farthest corner of the cave and crouched, fangs bared, snarling softly in his throat. The slim, hairy body quivered with fear, but the great macrocephalic head wove back and forth, jutting and staring in defiance.

Blade stepped into the circle of firelight and stopped. He let the club hang lax in his right hand. He wanted Ogar to get a good look at it.

Ogar peered at him from small reddened eyes. The flattened brute head moved back and forth, back and forth. The splayed nostrils quivered and Ogar made a new sound as he scented the raw meat in Blade's pouch.

Blade tried to pitch his voice exactly right. He felt certain that he would get only one chance. If Ogar feared him too much he would attack. If Ogar felt contempt, thought he was strong enough to win, he would attack. A fine line must be drawn and in those first few seconds matters balanced on the razor's edge.

Blade tossed the club away. He patted his own chest gently and said, very softly, «Ogar— Ogar— Ogar— Ogar—» It was nonsense, but reassuring sounds must be made and Blade crooned as he would to a baby. He hummed, nearly sang, «Ogar— Ogar— Ogar— Ogar—»

Ogar remained in his corner. His glance followed the club, rested there for a moment, then came back to Blade. He snarled softly.

Blade made a slow motion of conciliation with his hand. He smiled. He kept talking all the while, a jumble of softly intoned nonsense words. After a moment of this he reached into the pouch and brought out a hunk of the raw meat. Ogar's nostrils quivered. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth.

Blade held the meat on high and waited. Ogar watched the piece of meat in Blade's hand. Blade kept talking, lulling, soothing, coaxing. And watching.

Suddenly Ogar held out a hand. He ceased to snarl. From his throat came a sound that was, quite possibly, a fully formed word. To Blade it sounded like—"Owww-nowwah.» Ogar repeated the sound—"Owwwnowwah.»

There was no mistaking the entreaty. Ogar was asking for the meat.

Blade smiled and nodded and tossed the meat through the air. Ogar caught it deftly, smelled it, growled and slouched to the pile of faggots. He selected a stick, the sharpest of the lot, and thrust it into the meat. He took it to the fire and poked it into the flames.

Blade, now as fascinated as Lord L, did not move. He crooned a soft little song in his throat.

Ogar was careful to keep the fire between himself and Blade. He left the meat in the fire barely long enough to sear it, then wolfed it down in two bites, tearing and rending the charred flesh. His little eyes never left Blade.

Blade tossed him another piece of meat. The process was repeated. This time Ogar made three bites of it, rubbed his belly and said something like—"Gooo-nah — nah—»

Blade nodded and smiled and said, «Gooo-nah — nah—»

Ogar looked puzzled. He cocked his head to one side, stared at Blade in a different manner, shook his head in some mysterious negation, scratched his chest hair vigorously, found something alive and popped it into his mouth. Then he settled on all fours by the fire and stared at Blade again.

Blade kept talking. And smiling. Ogar kept staring and scratching. From outside the cave came a sudden terrible roaring. Ogar stared past Blade at the cave entrance. He clutched himself and rocked back and forth making whimpering sounds. Ogar was terrified of what was out there in the night. For the moment he appeared to have forgotten Blade, who was remembering what Lord L had said about Ogar's attention span.

«Probably not long,» the old man had said. «Very likely that of a three- or four-year-old child.»

Blade went into the next part of his act. He walked to the cave entrance. He shook his fist. He let out his very best bellow of defiance. It was a fine effort and he was rather proud of it. Let the current Tarzan match that!

When he glanced at Ogar again he was clapping his hairy, long-knuckled hands softly together and, Blade would have sworn, smiling, even laughing. The big mouth opened, fangs flashed, and there emerged a sound that was half hyena and half jackass.

«Arrhhh-ahh-ahhhhh-ahhhh-ahhh—»

Ogar was applauding.

Blade kept up the patter. «That's a good chap,» he said sweetly. «A fine chap you are, too. I am glad to see that we are going to get along. We will, you know. We're going to be friends, Ogar, real bosom pals. And do you know, Ogar, you remind me of one of my old profs at Oxford. Professor Abernathy, I think. Yes, it was he. You are alike as two peas, you and the prof. Taught the classics, he did, and failed me once. Said I didn't know how to study properly. May have had something there, you know. Anyway I had to do the bloody course twice over.»

Ogar was not listening. He was picking at his body hair again, searching for dessert.

Blade moved slowly toward the club. It lay about ten feet from where he stood. Ogar came instantly alert. He watched and the snarl began to build in his throat. Blade kept moving slowly toward the club.

«Nothing to be afraid of, old fellow. No need for alarm. I'm your friend, remember? I just want to prove it. You watch now, Ogar. You watch me very carefully.»

Ogar was doing just that. As Blade stooped to pick up the club, Ogar growled and thumped his chest. Blade turned to show the club, to show that his intentions were pure, but Ogar was gone from the fire. He was back in his corner, terrified and blustering, snarling and raging and leaping up and down as he pounded his chest. Pure bluff, as Blade now understood. It would take a lot to make Ogar attack him now. Ogar was no fool. Blade had the club and Blade was the larger and stronger of the two. That sort of thing Ogar could understand. There should be no trouble now unless Blade did the attacking.

Blade did not forsake caution. He moved slowly, deliberately, smiling and talking all the time. He broke the club over his knee and tossed it into the fire. Ogar stopped snarling to stare.

Blade ignored him. He went to sit cross-legged by the fire. He took a chunk of meat from the pouch, found the same stick Ogar had dropped and poked the meat into the fire. Juice dripped. The smell filled the cave. Outside the horrendous noises continued.

Blade did, in fact, like his steaks on the red side. After letting it cool for a moment, he sank his strong white teeth into the meat and enjoyed it. He had not known he was so hungry. From a corner of his eye he watched Ogar.

Ogar was drooling again. He made word sounds and began to creep slowly toward the fire. Blade ignored him and went on eating. When the body smell told him that Ogar was close he looked up, smiled, reached into his pouch for a piece of meat and extended it across the fire. This time Ogar must take it from his hand.

Ogar was dubious. He stared at Blade and said, «Ruuurr — uuu — gruuuuu-unah — unah—»

Blade laughed and waved the meat back and forth. «That is exactly what I told the boys at the club, Ogar, but they wouldn't believe me. I am happy to see that you think as I do. As a matter of fact, old man, I seriously intend to propose you for membership. You are precisely what St James Square needs. Liven matters up a bit, you know.»

Ogar reached out a hand, then snatched it back. Blade continued to dangle the meat enticingly. Ogar drooled and put out his hand again. Slowly it approached Blade's. Again Ogar hesitated. Then in one swift motion he snatched the meat from Blade's hand. For an instant their fingers touched. Blade experienced an odd shock, a tingling of energy, as though he had touched a cool and vibrant snake.

Ogar had forgotten him again. He found a new stick and seared his meat and gobbled it. He wiped his mouth on his hand and his hand in his body hair. Once again he began to search his body for such small edibles as might be present.

Blade watched all this. Lord Leighton, he thought, would be in paroxysms of delight. He was getting all this on tape and camera, getting it for posterity and the insurance of his own fame. As if that was necessary.

Blade thought of J's plan and his smile was grim. There would be one hell of a battle. Lord L was not a man to surrender a prize like Ogar without a death struggle.

Ogar chose that moment to defecate — literally in his tracks. He had been squatting by the fire, Blade apparently forgotten, and now he crouched and grunted and let fly. It was a spattering mess and the odor was horrible. Worse than Ogar's own.

When he had finished Ogar moved slightly and returned to his search for lice. The smell lingered. Blade made a face.

«Not so much on the toilet training, are you, old boy? Never heard of paper, for instance? Too bad. I'm afraid I shall have to think twice about having you up for the club after all. Wouldn't do just to let go in the bar, you know. Bad form. Terribly bad form.»

Ogar, blissfully unaware of his social solecism, grunted and began to scratch his genitals with both hands. He gave Blade a toothy smile. Or so it seemed.

It was time to go. Blade got up and moved away from the fire. Ogar watched him. Blade smiled and patted his chest and, folding his hands alongside his head, yawned. Ogar blinked.

The animal noises continued from outside. Lord L was repeating the tapes now. Ogar did not move from the fire. To him it was dark out there and the only safety was in the cave by the fire. He watched Blade move toward the entrance.

Blade halted at the cave entrance and looked back. Ogar was on his feet. New sounds came from his throat He extended a hand to Blade. Slowly Blade went back to the fire.

«Ahh nah guuu— nah — nah— gah guuuu nah guhh.»

«I agree with you,» said Blade, «but I really must say goodnight now. Goodnight, Ogar.»

«Nah guh.»

Ogar fell to his knees. He stared up at Blade for a moment, moving his hands back and forth. Then he laid his face against Blade's feet and made guttural sounds of obeisance. Blade smiled down and touched the hairy shoulder lightly. Ogar flinched and quivered but did not leap away. Blade gave him the last chunk of meat.

Godhood had just been conferred on him.