Pearl Of Patmos

CHAPTER 13

Blade watched as Hectoris was aided into the saddle by his man, adjusted the serpent shield on his left arm and took a lance from the rack, loosened his sword in the scabbard and secured mace to saddle. Blade grinned sourly. Hectoris was taking him at his word and coming armed to the teeth. Blade turned his attention to the war horse, now dancing and snorting and fighting the reins as it scented battle.

It was a magnificent beast. Blade judged it to weigh a ton or more. Superbly trained for battle en masse, but he gambled that it would prove slow and ponderous against a single agile man. In that lay much of his hope. The horse wore head armor, with a. long spike between the eyes, and a quilted covering into which rings of mail were closely sewn. None of this disconcerted Blade: the bronze greaves, from fetlock to knee, did bother him. No use slashing at the shank or cannon in hope of felling the steed. One trick lost to him.

Hectoris, as befitted a man. with supreme confidence in the outcome, was taking his time. He put his mount through its paces, letting it rear and paw the air and slash down with shod hooves. The waiting Blade got the point, but he sneered and made a derisive gesture and halloed into the wind: «I grow impatient, Hectoris. What ails the master of Thyme and Samosta? Cold heart?»

Hectoris reined in his mount and couched his lance. Blade glanced back at the sea behind him. A ten foot wave curled in and broke with a roar on the damp sand,

sending salt spray around him in a haze. Blade retreated ten steps and took his stand for the first attack.

The massive horse gained momentum slowly on the sand. The loose stuff shifted under the great hooves and clung to them. Blade had counted on this when he elected to fight on the beach.

Hectoris bore the lance to his right. Blade moved to offer the target of his — shield, kite shaped and with its secret well-grooved and varnished over. He stood his ground as the horse and rider thundered down on him, Hectoris low in the saddle, the lance steady on the target. The beach shuddered beneath Blade as the animal came on and on and the lance point gleamed pale in the dull light.

Blade leaped to his right, his timing perfect, his movement that of a heartbeat, and Hectoris rushed past. Blade smote the rump of the horse as it brushed him. And laughed loud enough for Hectoris to hear even above the whine of the wind; if he could anger the man so much the better.

The war horse ran nearly into the angry sea before it could stop. It reared, dancing on its back legs, and for a moment Blade thought Hectoris would be thrown. He tensed and started forward, but the Samostan regained his seat and fought the mount into a sideways canter out of the creaming waves that licked at its feet and frightened it. Blade ran quickly to his right, closer to the water, and took up position again. Hectoris would learn from that mistake and would not make it again.

Nor did he. Hectoris rode off a little way and wheeled his horse about; this time he would attack along the beach line. Some gain and some loss for Blade. The damp sand would cling and slow the horse even more, but he no longer had the sea at his back. Hectoris couched his lance again and came on, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He still carried his lance to the right, but in his left hand now he swung the mace.

Again Blade executed the same maneuver, leaping away from the lance point, but this time he took a mighty blow from the mace on his shield. That weapon, a spiked iron ball attached to a short handle by a length of chain, put a dint in his shield and nearly wrenched it from his hand. Hectoris wolf-grinned and snarled something as he passed but Blade did not make out the words. He faced about again and only just in time, for the war steed proved not so slow or clumsy as he had supposed and was thundering at Blade again almost before he could draw breath. Blade took another mace blow on the shield that beat him to his knees. And Hectoris wheeled and was coming back again.

This time Blade did not leap away from the lance. He took the point on his shield, near the boss, and deflected it, but his left side was numbed by the impact. Nonetheless he thrust and drew blood from the horse as it passed him. A superficial wound, of no advantage to Blade, yet it cheered him.

Hectoris did not come again at the moment. He inspected his lance point and went to the rack for a new lance. His manner was that of a man who has all the time in the world. Blade glanced beyond the ruins of the tent to where Juna stood between Nob and the Samostan soldier. She was shielding her eyes against wind and sand, staring down the beaches.

Hectoris couched his new lance and swung the mace a few times over his head. Blade gave attention to his own shield. Time to bring out his trick.

A hole had been bored near the boss of the shield and another near the rim. A groove had been cut so that the thin chain would lie flat and, covered with a heavy coat of varnish, unseen. It was taut nova! and seemed a part of the shield. Blade loosed it on the inside, near the hand grip, and tugged it out of the groove and it fell into a loop. A loop of chain that might catch and hold a lance head.

Blade moved closer to the sea. Hectoris — could not charge him down the slant of the beach, lest his mount run into the sea and founder in the harsh waves, so he moved again to the side. Blade shifted to face him. The war horse began to gain speed, mane waving, teeth and red mouth showing in froth, screaming in shrill rage as it had been schooled. The wind caught the sound and flung it over the beaches like a demon's cry.

Blade braced for the shock. If he could catch the lance point in his chain loop and wrest it from the grip of Hea-

toris he would have another weapon. That was well within. the bargain, for he had kept his word and started combat with only sword and shield. And did Hectoris, surprised and unready, cling long enough to the lance he might be unhorsed. In the end it must come to that if Blade was to win. Closer now. Closer. .

The computer struck. A maniac raved in Blade's head and he lowered his shield and screamed in pain, for the moment driven mad by the bludgeoning hurt. Of all times-in all this time-not so much as a twinge to hint that he was sought by Lord L-and novf- now-in the red fog he fell to his knees and twisted away as best he could. Cursing and bitter. The computer sought him too early and too late. It would not take him this first time, it never did, but yet it would be the death of him. He was blind with pain, contorted with it, made helpless by it.

Hectoris, mayhap unnerved by Blade's scream and sudden crumble and fall, was off the target by inches. His lance point shifted.at the last possible second and tore the leather and steel from Blade's shoulder and barely scratched the flesh. Blade's armor ripped away at the join and the lance bore away the sleeve as trophy. Heetoris cursed mightily and reined the mount about. Now to finish it.

The pain vanished. Blade staggered to his feet. He had lost his sword and there was no time to search for it. He had time only to adjust the chain loop and throw his shield high as the Samostan came at him once again.

He stood his ground and offered a fair target for the lance. The dark eyes of Hectoris spoke death as he bent low and forward to make the final thrust. His men in their thousands were watching from the ships and it was time for an end. And, give him his due, Hectoris was not a man to bait and taunt a brave foe.

The lance thudded home. The sharp point engaged the chain loop. Blade felt his arm being torn from his body, but now all his great strength counted and he fell to his knees and twisted the shield and chain. The point slid away and the shaft, caught by the chain, turned in the grasp of Hectoris and exerted a great leverage. Hectoris did not loose it in time. He was pulled from the saddle and fell heavily a dozen paces beyond Blade.

Blade ran at him with the lance. Too late. Hectoris rolled and was up. Blade gambled and hurled the lance with all his might and the Samostan fended it away with his shield. Blade halted and began to retreat, glancing about for his sword. There, gleaming in the sand near the water. He moved toward it.

Hectoris was there, between Blade and the sword, mocking. He swung his mace and the spiked ball slammed on Blade's shield. Again and again, high and low, the mace thudding and thundering and bending the shield as Blade was forced back and back- and always away from the sword.

Blade plucked a dagger from his belt and tried to close with Hectoris. The other man laughed and leaped away and swung the mace again. Blade half slipped, was beaten to his knees, and the mace reined blows in ceaseless fury. Somehow Blade fought to his feet and, feinting to his left, tried to circle right and reach his sword. Hectoris was there.

Both men gasped now, breathed with pain, and streamed black and bitter sweat. Hectoris, near to exhaustion, came on again. Blade, staking all, did not retreat but sprang into the mace blow, fended it, and smashed his shield into the lowering face of his enemy. Hectoris gave ground for the first time. And slipped a bit in the sand. It was enough. Blade darted past him and ran to where his sword glittered.

Hectoris cursed and the screaming wind bore the oath to Blade. Hectoris flung the mace. It struck Blade at the knees, from behind, but no true blow. The spiked ball missed and only the chain and handle tangled his limbs and brought him down. He fell forward, sliding and with hand reaching for the hilt of the sword. His fingers touched it.

Blade scrambled and rolled on the sand. Hectoris, both hands to his sword, slashed the sand where Blade had just lain. Blade, in attempting to gain his feet, slipped and took another sword stroke on his battered shield. Part of the rim was sheared away. Blade thrust at the groin and drove Hectoris back and at last was on his feet. Water creamed and foamed about his boots. They were fighting now at the very edge of the sea.

Hectoris-there seemed no end to the strength in that lank slim body-leaped in and began to lay about Blade, who knew he had met his equal. Hectoris matched him point for point and edge for edge. The Samostan had lost his laurel crown and, along with it, his arrogance, but he gave Blade no respite. Slowly, reluctantly, Blade gave ground and was forced back into the pounding sea. A breaker curled in and smashed down over h4n and his enemy vanished in spume and mist, only to come on again as the wave receded. Blade began to plan, knowing the only way he could win, and prayed that the computer pain did not come again until it was over. If he faltered now he was a dead man.

When Hectoris leaped in again Blade did not parry and retreat, or shift position, but ran in close and, their steel locked, face close to panting face, tried to dagger Hectoris. The man's armor turned the thrust and Hectoris pushed Blade away. Blade kept the dagger in his left hand, menacing with it, wanting Hectoris to keep it in mind, to be aware of it. The next time….

They were fighting in water up to their waists. Hectoris sloshed toward him. The Samostan had lost his helmet and his bald head gleamed in the dull light and wind tossed his fringe of hair. Blade retreated a bit, not daring to glance behind him, but listening for the next surge and roar of an oncoming wave. If his timing was right-

A wave curled and towered. Hectoris and Blade sprang at the same time to the attack. Blade feinted with his dagger and when the other man moved to fend it Blade dropped the little weapon and gripped the sword belt of Hectoris. He dropped his own sword and fended off a last blow from Hectoris and then dropped his shield. With all his strength he drew the man to him, embraced him in a bear hug, and kicked his legs out from under him. The wave smashed down like the hammer of doom and inundated them, swept them along topsy turvy and slamming their locked bodies against the rough bottom sand. Blade, knowing his own plan, had drawn one deep breath. He got the head of his enemy in the crook of his left arm, seized his own left wrist with his right hand, and brought his terrible strength to bear.

The wave carried them shoreward. Blade felt bones break in the neck of Hectoris. He dug in with his feet, fought to his knees and clawed back into deeper water. He rolled and, using his weight advantage, took Hectoris to the bottom again. The Samostan had drawn his own dagger and was feebly slashing at Blade's legs. There was some small pain and a little blood, but Blade was content. He had won.

Blade let four more waves pound over them before he stood up and dragged the lifeless body of Hectoris ashore. He glanced out at the ships massed in the outer harbor; the ratlines and crows nests were. black with watching men. Blade dragged the body up the beach, far beyond the tide line, and dropped it. He found the lance and thrust it into the sand near the lolling head. Hectoris had not drowned. Blade had broken his neck.

He stood for a moment by the body and looked out at the fleet. He raised a clenched fist and shook it three times, then turned away. Nob and the Samos-tan orderly, with Juna between them, came down the beach to meet him.

Juna, her arms folded over her breasts, her hands in the long sleeves of her gown, stood silently by as Blade spoke with the two men.

To the orderly Blade said: «Yonder is the body of your master. See to it. He was a man, but fought like a devil, and it was a near thing. Tell your captains that I, Richard Blade, said this. Tell them also that I will send Ptol, the priest, with terms by which Patmos and Samosta may come to peace. If this peace is refused tell them they may expect nothing but death and fire and desolation. They will inherit nothing but ruins. Go now and keep watch by the body. When we are gone, and the storm lessens, they will send a boat for you.»

The man bowed, his eyes huge with awe and fear, and hurried off. Blade looked at Nob and pointed to the war horse. It had found a tiny patch of rank beach grass and was grazing.

«Fetch the horse for my lady, Nob. When we have reached the caverns again it is yours to keep.» New pain moved in Blade's head.

Nob did what Nob had never done before. He fell to one knee before Blade and from his good eye a tear scoured through the dirt on his rugged face. «Sirel I had thought you dead-my eye did not believe and I had no faith. And I–I had already thought how to make my terms with the Samostans. I am not worthy of such a gift, master, I am worthy of nothing. I-«

Blade clapped him on the shoulder. «On your feet, man. It worked out well in the end and yqu will not have to change your coat again. Go now. Fetch the horse for Juna.»

Nob went. Blade looked at the girl, gazed into those blue pools, and nearly lost his resolution. But he had promised Izmia.

Juna took a step toward him. She knew. It was in her glance and manner. She stared long at Blade. Wind moaned about them, tossing her hair wildly.

Juna said, «Must I, Blade? I would not have it so. Since I first saw you I have schemed to have you with me, to love you always, to face the intrigue and plotting together and somehow, when it was over, to be happy together.»

Blade shook his head. It pained him still, but was bearable. The computer was seeking.

«I cannot stay, Juna. What you do is, must be, decided by you. You know of what Izmia has spoken to me?»

«I know.» Her voice was cold, bitter. «Since a tiny child I have known this day must come. You could save me, Blade. You could take me with you.»

«I cannot. Of all things in the world that I cannot do.»

Nob was approaching with the horse. Juna was pale, her lovely face gleaming with moisture borne by the wind, her eyes half closed as she surveyed Blade up and down. She gathered the white cloak about her slim body.

«Let us go, then. If there is no help for it. Izmia told you all that must be done?»

«Izmia told me.»