Monster Of The Maze

Chapter 5

When it grew light enough to see Blade crawled up the bed until he crouched near the pillow on which rested the Izmir's head. The old man was bald and toothless, with cheeks heavily pouched and a nose like a scimitar. His neck was thin and wrinkled, leading under the bedclothes to a body that Blade guessed would be an emaciated wreck. This man was very old. He could die at any moment, even the next, in his sleep. Blade could only hope that the wracked flesh and the senile brain would hold together for a time yet-long enough for Blade to attain his growth and the ability to survive on his own.

The light grew stronger. The Izmir moaned and tossed a bit, mumbling to himself, and at last opened his gummed and rheumy eyes and stared, face to face, at Blade.

«Do not fear me,» said Blade. «I am the child, sent as Casta promised. I am your heir. I come in a child's body and with an adult's head and brain.»

Blade's small spine was cold and the hair frizzled on the nape of his neck. The next second would be decisive-if the old man screamed and summoned his guard, if panic and mindlessness took over, Blade did not stand much of a chance. He held his breath.

The Izmir did not move. His runny eyes narrowed and when he spoke his voice was surprisingly calm and deep.

«If you are a dream or a phantom,» said the Izmir, «you can go away. I am too old to frighten. If you are real, and this I do not yet believe, lay your flesh to mine so that I may feel it.»

Blade put his tiny hand in the wrinkled old one of the Izmir. The old man picked up the little hand, examined it, stroked it, squeezed it, then let it fall. «If it is a dream,» he said, «it is a most marvelously vivid one.»

«I am no dream,» said Blade. «Look you at my head-is it not too big for my body?»

The Izmir nodded. «Much too big. You are grotesque.»

«And hear my voice,» Blade continued. «Is it that of a man or an infant?»

«A man.»

«And do you believe that in this oversize skull there is a man's brain, fully developed?»

«I am beginning to believe it,» said the Izmir, «though I am not the fool that many, especially that Casta, take me for, and I have never really believed in miracles or wizardry. My people say that I am superstitious and I let them think so, for it does me no harm and gives them something to gabble about.»

This gave Blade pause. He saw that he had better revise his plan a bit. He leaned closer to the old man and stared into his eyes. The rheumy old eyes stared back and Blade saw cunning and knowledge there, and he saw also infinite weariness and boredom and, lurking last and deepest, final despair.

The Izmir said, «Your eyes are those of a man. And, if all my experience does not deceive me, those of a strong and shrewd and triumphant man. This I believe. But what good are these things in the body of a baby?»

«I grow a year each day,» said Blade. «You will see this for yourself. I come from another world, which I will explain when we have time, and, though you do not believe in miracles or wizardry, there is something of both in my coming here-though not in the ordinary sense. How much time have we, Izmir, before someone comes to these chambers?»

The old man nodded toward a bell pull. «All the time we need. I am never disturbed until I summon my servants in the morning.»

«Good. Now watch me.» Blade leaped from the huge bed and ran around the room. He turned cartwheels and somersaults and jumped over a chair or two, then returned to the bed. «You saw that-you have never seen a normal babe do such things.»

By now the Izmir was sitting up in bed, propped on pillows and stroking the few scant hairs of his goatee. He nodded and narrowed his eyes at Blade.

«You need not belabor it, my friend. So far I believe. I do not understand it and I doubt I ever will, but to this point I believe what I see. And in the end it is all very simple-you say that you will soon grow into a man? I shall wait and see. If you do grow into a man, then I will accept it and believe even more firmly. If you do not grow into a man I will have you strangled. Simple.»

Blade settled on the bed again. «Yes. Simple. But I am speaking the truth and so we must plan. Hear me out, Izmir and then tell me your thoughts.»

The old man opened his mouth, then closed it. He made a gesture that indicated that Blade was to speak on.

«I had thought you a senile old fool,» said Blade. «I was led to believe this.»

From deep in that scrawny throat came a chuckle. «A fool, yes. Old, yes. Senile, no.»

«I was going to lie to you,» Blade went on. «Lie and bamboozle and pretend to be this child that the priest Casta has been promising will come to save Zir and be your heir. This I cannot do now because it is not true and you know it is not true.»

The Izmir nodded and chuckled again. «Costa is a great liar and also something of a fool, though very cunning. He believes that I believe him.»

The old man fell into a fit of coughing and hawked a great gob of spittle into a cloth, then said. «It is my thought, of late, that Casta does have a child somewhere in the background, a child that he trains and keeps secret and awaits the proper hour to produce and announce as the heir to Zir. Then, when I am dead, he will slay the Princess Hirga and place this child on my throne and rule through him.»

Blade held up a hand. «Later-later for all these details of intrigue. Our task now, for I take it that you are agreed to accept me, is to ensure my survival for the next few days. I cannot think that this priest will take kindly to my coming.»

The Izmir went into such a fit of laughing that he nearly choked.

«Take it kindly? You, whoever you are, will be a living curse to him. You have stolen his thunder-and his idea. He will most certainly try to have you killed.»

«Can you protect me, Izmir? Until I get my strength and manhood back?»

«I will try,» said the Izmir. «I think I can do it. Many plot against me and many think me senile, but I am an old dog and I know many tricks. But you must prove yourself to me. . what are you to be called?»

«Blade.»

«Blade? It makes no sense to me, but as you wish. So, Blade, as I say, you will have to prove yourself to me or I will save Casta the trouble of killing you. So let us begin. What is first to do?»

«Food,» said Blade. «Meat and bread in plenty. I am so near famished that, if I do not eat soon, the task of proving myself to you will never arise.»

«And clothing,» said the Izmir. He looked Blade up and down. «I think I have seen you grow since we began to talk. You are too large to run around naked.»

«And a little sword,» said Blade. «A real one, a weapon that will kill, but light enough for me to wield. I will feel safer with a weapon.»

The Izmir reached for the bell pull at the head of his bed. «It shall all be done. Then, later today, I will arrange for a grand audience in the palace. I will introduce you to all my wise men and my statesmen, bah, and certainly to Casta and the Princess Hirga. I cannot wait to see the expression on the priest's face when he finds that his prophecy has come true and that a child has indeed come to save Zir and subdue the Hitts.»

This was a new note. «Hitts? What of Hitts? It is the first time I have heard the name.»

The Izmir stroked his goatee and his eyes grew hard. «They live across the narrow water and are savages and barbarians. They defeated my father and his father and even his father before that. I have sworn to avenge all these defeats and, before I die, to invade and conquer the Hitts. Casta has promised this most of all-that the child to come would lead my soldiers victorious against the Hitts. Now you will do it-unless, of course-you fail to grow as you say you will and I must have you strangled. But enough of that for now-here come my servants.»

The two servants who entered were both fat men and wore only loin cloths and soft hats like fezzes. They bowed to the Izmir and stared with round eyes at Blade. When the old man had given orders and they had gone he said to Blade, «Slaves. From the south, of course. I have never had a Hitt slave because they will never surrender. When they are beaten, which is not often, they kill themselves. You cannot make a slave of a corpse. But those you just saw are of a different breed-ball-less now, because they go into my harem occasionally and I do not want them at my women.»

Blade said nothing, but something in his expression made the Izmir chuckle and nearly fall into another fit of coughing.

«You are wondering, Blade, what an old fool like me can do with a harem of five-hundred women? I do not blame you. Often I wonder myself-but now and again I manage. My cock is not more senile than my brain and with five or six soft and tender young girls I can sometimes achieve.»

Blade kept silence. The Izmir looked at him sharply and went on, «When you get your growth and strength-if you do-I suppose that will be a problem. Do not fret about it. I will give you a harem of your own.»

The food came and Blade fell on it like a wolf. As he ate he felt the electric ticking in him and understood that the crystal was working again and that he had grown another year. Lord L would know, when the computer decoded Blade's thought impulses and printed them out, just how he was progressing. And how important it was that his growth continue at the proper and predetermined pace. His life depended on it now. Blade had no illusions about this old man in the bed. The Izmir was playing along. He believed or did not believe-Blade had no way of knowing which-but in the end he would kill Blade unless matters went as Blade predicted. If the computer broke down Blade was dead.