Looters Of Tharn

Chapter 22

Blade flew straight west at low altitude for several hours, politely ignoring the woman. She lay quietly on the furs spread across the cabin floor, still not speaking a word. But Blade had the impression that his flying away with her was not what she had expected. Perhaps she had been expecting the torture Anyara would have inflicted? Perhaps. In any case, she was surprised-too surprised to be able to completely hide the fact.

As the plain rolled past beneath them, the woman began to relax. She stretched out as much as her bonds would let her. She stopped staring continuously at Blade as though expecting him to attack her or turn into a monster at any moment. Finally she quietly drifted off to sleep. Blade left the controls long enough to spread a fur over her, then returned to his seat. The woman would need that sleep, whatever happened to her in the next few days.

About four hours out of Miros, Blade spotted a small lake to the north. This was as good a place as any to land and begin his «interrogation» of the woman. They were hundreds of miles from both the people and the Looters, as alone for the moment as Adam and Eve.

Blade landed the machine without waking the woman. Still without waking her, he carefully locked away all the weapons except his own sword, then disconnected the main controls. He tied the hatch key, the locker key, and the sword to his belt. Then he sat down beside the woman and gently rested one hand on her shoulder.

She came awake in an instant, eyes widening and body going rigid. Her eyes never blinked or left Blade's face as he drew his sword. But he could see her teeth biting into her lower lip until beads of blood appeared and a trickle crept down her chin. She was seeing death in that drawn sword, and she was determined to face it and endure it without a cry or a moment's loss of courage.

This, Blade realized, was a warrior. Or at least a brave woman determined to look as much like a warrior as she could.

He reached over behind her back with the sword. A quick flick of the sword, and the leather thongs binding her hands fell to the floor. Another flick, and her feet were also free.

This time the woman not only didn't hide her surprise, but looked as though she was going to faint from it. Blade quickly rose and got her a cup of water. Slowly she sat up, straightening and flexing bruised and cramped arms and legs. Then she took the cup and drank, holding it in shaking hands.

«Drink as much as you want,» said Blade. He spoke quietly and politely, as he would have spoken to a female guest in his own London flat. «There is plenty of water and food. I do not wish to harm you in any way.»

«You are-who?» the woman said. Her voice was low and husky, more with strain than with anything else. Blade nearly sighed with relief. He had seriously begun to wonder if by some mad joke of fate the woman was a mute! That would have meant a thousand kinds of unwanted fun in trying to interrogate her about the Looters!

«I am the Mazda of the people of the land of Tharn,» he replied. «I lead them in their wars.»

«My name is Silora,» the woman said. «I am a-«She stopped suddenly and her mouth clamped shut.

«Yes,» said Blade. «You are a-?»

«Why should I tell you?» said Silora, her voice chilly. «You are Principal Technician of War for your people. Anything I tell you, you may use against mine. You are an enemy.»

«I do not know that this is so,» said Blade. «Even if it is so now, it need not be so in the future. But I know almost nothing about your people, so how can I tell? You know practically nothing about the people of Tharn, so how can you tell either?

«I ask you to think this over. In the meantime you are free to walk about, drink, eat, bathe-to make yourself as comfortable as you wish. As I said, I do not wish to harm you. You have no good reason to wish to harm me, either.» Blade rose and went to the hatch, opened it, and stepped out onto the platform, leaving the hatch open.

He wasn't going to trust the woman enough to leave her with any easy chances to try escaping or killing him. But he was going to trust her to respond to decent treatment and no threats.

Besides, there was that intriguing possibility that the Looters might be two different peoples in an alliance. An uneasy alliance? Possibly. An alliance that might be broken? Also possibly. If he could just learn enough- Blade stepped down off the platform and started walking around the machine, trying to walk off some of his impatience.

He kept walking for an hour, moving in wider and wider circles, farther and farther from the machine. Finally he walked over to the shore of the lake and hid himself behind a bush, watching the machine carefully. If Silora took this apparent chance to escape, it would mean she was absolutely desperate. She would have to be desperate, to walk away barefoot into the endless plains of this unknown land. If she was even more desperate but cooler-headed, she might try to fuse the atomic bomb and set it off.

She did neither. Blade spent two tedious hours under the bush, broiled by the sun and jabbed and nibbled at by assorted bugs. At the end of that time he rose and walked back to the machine.

Silora was asleep on the floor again. An empty food container beside her showed that she had eaten. Blade bent over to listen to her peaceful breathing. So far so good. She was not desperate, at least not now. But she might take a long time to become friendly, if she ever did.

Silora didn't become particularly friendly during the next several days they spent camped by the lake. But she didn't need to. If she had been facing one of the people, the odd phrases she let fall might have been as meaningless as the gruntings of a pig. But Blade was a trained and expert interrogator. He knew a good deal about the Looters and had guessed a good deal more. He could make Silora's most casual phrases into pieces of the puzzle he was assembling.

He suspected more and more that the Looters were actually two people. But he still wasn't sure. He was still less sure what the exact relationship between those two peoples might be. Could they possibly be turned into enemies, in the ancient tradition of «divide and conquer?»

He could risk asking Silora directly, of course. But that might shatter the slim trust in him she had let herself develop. She could turn silent and sullen again. Would Anyara-or even his own son-give him the extra time to win her trust again? Could he win it? If he couldn't, sooner or later they would ask him to turn her over for torture. He would refuse-he knew it. What would the people and his own son say then, if he refused something that might save them?

Damn! There were risks either way. He could decide which course to take almost as well by flipping a coin as by any other way.

Evening came down on the plain, the evening of their fourth day at the camp. Blade had put arrows into a couple of gopherlike animals that stuck their heads up at the wrong moment. Now they made a savory smell as they roasted on a spit over a campfire laid out on the shore of the lake. Smoke rose into the darkening sky and the light of the fire glimmered on the gently rippling water of the lake.

Silora sat cross-legged on the grass, her freshly washed tunic and trousers steaming themselves dry on her body.

She still did not trust Blade enough to strip down in his presence, although he had gone naked day and night since the second day. This surprised her and made her nervous at first. But after a day she obviously became used to it. Blade even noticed her casting one or two interested looks at him.

He picked up the spit and cut it in two with his sword, handing her one animal. She tore greedily into the fresh, smoking meat, letting the grease ooze down her chin. That was another thing that she found hard to accept. Blade always served her first and made a special point of giving her the choicest pieces.

When they had both finished off their meat, Blade poured both their cups full of beer from the last skin bag. He drank, then smiled. «Silora, what is a 'Principal Technician of War'? What does he do, among your people?»

Silora did not stiffen or glare as she had done before. She only replied, «Why do you want to know?»

«Because I don't know if I am really one or not, among the people of Tharn. It's a strange title, and you've made me curious about what it might mean.»

«It means it is what the commander of the shtafari calls himself. It is not a title that is rightfully his, but he uses it anyway.» Both her eyes and her voice showed indignation.

Blade nodded. «And who-or what-are the shtafari? That's something you haven't mentioned before.»

He caught the sudden tightening of her lips and the veiling of her eyes and laid a hand gently on one of her knees. «It just struck me-you know very little of how we live in Tharn. So why don't I tell you of it, and what I am as Mazda. Then you can tell me whether I am indeed a-a Principal Technician of War-or whatever.» He said the title as though the words left a bad taste in his mouth.

She nodded. «That-that seems fair enough. I would like to know more about you.» The curiosity in her voice was genuine. So was the curiosity in her eyes as they ran over his body again.

Blade launched into his description of life in Tharn. He didn't say very much about the history of the people or how they had ended up in their present situation. Instead he gave the impression that life in Tharn had gone happily along this way for centuries.

Blade got quite caught up in his own tale, enough to stop paying attention to Silora. It wasn't until he broke off for a drink of water that he realized she was staring at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. He hadn't seen her eyes so wide since the day of her capture.

«What is it, Silora?» he said. «Has my face turned blue or something like that?»

Silora swallowed and shook her head. «No, it is-it is-it is-«

«It is what, Silora?» said Blade gently.

«Your warriors-your shtafari-do they rule the-the neuters?»

«What do you mean by 'rule,' Silora? They-«

«They keep them behind bars at home, don't they? And the women-no, there aren't any women neuters-but if there were women, they would-«She realized she wasn't making any sense, stopped, took a deep breath, and went on. «The warriors-do they give the orders and the neuters and the women obey? Or-«Her voice trailed off, as if she could not imagine any other way of living.

«I'm still not sure what you mean,» said Blade. He was quite sure, in fact. The truth about the Looters was coming out at last. He had his victory, and the torturers would not have Silora. «Both our men and our women fight, as you have seen. Our neuters do not fight, but that does not mean they obey. They are often wise teachers, and much respected.»

«Then-then your warriors are not-shtafari. They-there was no war between them and the neuters and women?»

«War? No.» Almost the truth. «Why should there be? They-«

Silora swallowed. «The shtafari-they rule in Konis. They have ruled since their revolt, the revolt that took away all the power of the Peace Lords. All the hope of the Peace Lords.» Her eyes were wet and she seemed about to burst into tears.

«The Peace Lords?» repeated Blade, nodding as though he understood absolutely. «Naturally you as a Peace Lord were-abused-by those two shtafari who were with you in the machine?» That was a gamble, a shot almost in the dark. But he couldn't think of anything to say that would do more good if by some chance it did hit its target.

Silora quivered as if she had been struck by a real arrow, and her eyes closed for a moment, squeezing out tears to make trails down her soot-darkened cheeks. «Yes. Yes. They-the shtafari do-always have done-what they wish with Peace Lord women. But these-«She could not go on. It was as though the memory of what the two shtafari had done made her so physically ill that words would not come.

Blade nodded. But this time when he spoke he made his voice sound harsher and more suspicious than he felt. «I see, almost. But-then why were you armed with that sword, if you and the shtafari were ene-«

Silora giggled hysterically. «Oh-if you had seen me with those two-animals-you wouldn't ask. I did-they thought I was so hungry for everything they wanted me to do that I would never turn against them. Never, never, never! They thought I was a hungry little pet they could keep tame by feeding what she wanted. What I wanted!» The giggle rose to a hysterical laugh. Silora threw back her head and howled and shrieked open-mouthed, eyes staring blindly up at the starlit sky. Blade reached out to take her and hold her, but she sprang to her feet and away from him. For a moment her eyes drifted down to focus on him, then she turned and ran off into the darkness.

Blade threw another armful of wood on the fire and lay back on the furs spread on the ground. There was no need to follow Silora. In fact, she might become more hysterical and run faster if he did. She would come back when she was calm enough to say to Blade all the things that were obviously bubbling up inside her. That would take time. But after tonight Silora would be talking much more freely, and Blade would be learning about the Looters-the people of Konis-much faster than he had been.

Gradually the warmth of the fire made Blade feel sleepy. He considered trying to stay awake until Silora returned, then decided there was no need. She had no weapons and could not fly away in the machine. There was small chance that she would want to either harm him or flee, in any case. Blade quietly drifted off to sleep, feeling more at peace with the world than he had felt since he returned to Tharn.

He awoke to the sound of soft footsteps approaching him along the lake shore. Without rising, he slid his hand under the furs over him and clasped the hilt of his sword. He lay motionless as the footsteps continued to approach, then stopped. In the silence Blade heard the faint whisper of the wind, the even fainter whisper of breathing close at hand, then a small, nervous laugh. He turned his head in the direction of the sound, and saw Silora.

She had obviously been swimming in the lake, and had not bothered to dress again. Beads of water glistened like jewels on her skin. The moonlight silvered one whole side of her body from forehead to ankle. Her hair flowed in a dark straight cascade down her bare back.

She was utterly beautiful standing there, and Blade felt desire springing to life in him. It was a desire that Silora obviously shared, a desire to which she was ready to respond. Their eyes met and she smiled. It was a somewhat uncertain smile, reminding Blade how much of Silora's experience of sex had been rather ugly. He would have to be more than usually gentle with her.

Before Blade could move an inch Silora came over to him and knelt down beside him. She bowed her head over Blade's middle, then shook it until her hair was flowing down over her shoulders and breasts. It flowed on down over Blade's genitals, caressing them with a thousand tiny soft delicate brushes. Then Silora began to slowly sway back and forth from the waist. The movement sent exciting little shudders through the taut flesh of her small, perfect breasts. It also drew her hair back and forth across Blade, which was far more exciting. His desire rose further, and his body began to show it. He would not have believed that what Silora was doing could draw such a response from him, no matter how much skill a woman put into it. But he couldn't deny that she was doing it.

Blade had not wanted to move for fear of alarming the woman. Now he could not have moved if he had wanted to. His body would not obey his brain any more. It would obey only its own desperate desire to receive more of the caresses of Silora's hair.

How long she could have gone on this way Blade never knew. He did know that he was about to throw caution to the winds and reach out for her when she took the next step herself. It was a short step, and it left her astride his body. Then she gently lowered herself onto him, taking the whole of his erection into herself so slowly that she seemed to be wanting to test his massive member an inch at a time. Blade saw her eyes widen and the muscles of her throat tighten as he entered her, and the rise and fall of her breasts quickened. Her nipples were small but very distinct, dark brown, and now standing out hard and surprisingly long.

Then Silora closed her eyes and began to rock back and forth and twist around and around with Blade inside her. She moved slowly at first, without any pattern, feeling her way along. Then she found a pattern that pleased her, and she began to move faster.

Blade did not move. A move would no longer frighten Silora away-she wouldn't notice. But on top of what he was already getting Blade knew any movement of his own might push him to climax and beyond. He didn't want that now, not with this woman. With this woman it was more important than ever before to match his pace to hers, however hard he had to fight for it, whatever he had to do to manage it. He knew as clearly as if it was written across the night sky above that she must reach her peak first. That would set his lovemaking apart from anything she had ever experienced before, and Blade wanted to be certain of doing that. It was no longer just a question of getting out of her all the information the people so badly needed. It was a matter of kindness and decency on his part toward a woman who had been hurt in so many ugly ways.

Silora kept on. Her eyes were no longer wide, but shut tight, and a tear traced a path down each cheek. The water was drying off her now, but beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead and neck and breasts as she moved. Her mouth tightened into a line that looked more grim than ecstatic. Blade was beginning to wonder if she was somehow beyond reaching a climax, if the damage over the years hadn't been too great. But he didn't know, he couldn't know, he had to hold on. He had to hold on, and if holding on meant dying he would die and there was an end to the matter.

A moment later Silora's mouth opened, but not to smile. She let out a wide-mouthed, almost terrifying yell, that went floating away across the lake into the silent darkness of the plain. There was pain in that yell-real pain-but also triumph, joy, surprise-all mixed together in a terrible, wonderful confusion. The tears turned from a trickle into a flood, sweat broke out all over her body, her pelvic muscles jerked in a frantic rhythm, her body arched and bowed and twisted. Then she started sagging forward, eyes glazed. If she had to save both her life and Blade's by a single extra movement, they would both have died on the spot.

Blade's own moment arrived as Silora sagged forward onto his chest. He clutched at her until his fingers dug into the firm flesh of her thighs and buttocks and twisted his own hips around as his terribly pent-up beat jetted upward into her. As that jetting came to an end Silora collapsed onto him, as boneless as a jellyfish and for the moment as helpless as one cast up on the beach after a storm. Blade did not need to disturb her and wouldn't have done so even if he had needed to.

How much time passed before Silora's eyes flickered open, Blade didn't know or care. The same warm bath of satisfied desire was washing over both of them. But eventually he found her dark eyes staring into his, and her lips curling in another smile. Then she raised herself on her elbows and looked down the length of his body, then the length of hers.

«What are you looking for, Silora?»

«You wouldn't believe me if I told you. The shtafari-«

«-are not here. I am not one of them, not a Principal Technician of War, not even a Very Unimportant Technician of War!»

For some reason his feeble joke made her giggle and then laugh long and loud. «No, you are not anything of that sort,» she said, after catching her breath. «I think it is time we found out more about what we really are, as you said. I do not know for certain what you will do with what you learn, Mazda. But I am as certain as I need to be that you will not use it to hurt me or the Peace Lords. That is something new for me. Just how new, perhaps you will understand in time.»