Pearl Of Patmos

CHAPTER 7

The prison room was provided with a desk and ample writing materials and for a moment Blade thought the problem of communication was solved. Nob soon dashed that hope.

«I never learned my letters, sire. Old Nob never had time for that nonsense-he was too busy trying to keep his belly full.»

Blade glanced at the music box. They could not go on whispering forever. The very fact itself would make them suspect. Then he remembered the unlocked door and cursed himself for a fool. This was such an upside-down, topsy-turvy prison that a man could not think straight in it. He prodded Nob toward the door. It was as simple as taking a stroll.

No effort was made to stop them as they left the building and strolled about the well-kempt grounds. As soon as they were away from any possible listener Blade commanded Nob to talk. That worthy, with his brokentoothed grin, was only too ready. He adjusted his eye patch with a flair and stroked his jutting smooth-shaven jaw. His rugged features, now shorn of facial hair, re-

vealed many old scars and craters the latter attributed by Nob to a bad. case of pox in his childhood:

His right eye glinting with surly amusement, Nob said, x «I caught a hoof on the back of the sconce, master, and it ° must have made me look like a deader for sure-when I '' come to the Samostans was all gone and I had the square to myself.»

Nob screwed up his ugly visage and shrugged. «That were a odd feeling, master. You was gone into the sewer and me all alone there with the dead.»

Blade shook his head. «All of them? Every Thyrnian soldier died?»

«Aye. Unless, mind you, there was others playing dead lice me. But old Nob didn't stay to see. I found a few of me jewels and gold pieces, not all, for those thieving Samostans had taken them, and I crawled my way through the piles of corpses and out the gate into the salt marshes. There was naught to do but make for the coast, and that I '~ did. I fell in with a party of riff-raff like meself, you might say, and together we made the coast in three days. Once there-«

They stopped to watch some men tossing an oblong bladder about. Blade gave the man a sharp glance. «And then?»

«Well, sire, we had what amounted to a falling out.» Nob did not meet Blade's eye. «There was some difference of mind, sire, on how to divide up the treasure and arms we had, er, acquired, and about how many could go in the little boat.»

«You had a boat?»

«In a way, sire. One of the other-other rogues knew g where one was hid. I think he must have been a smuggler, sire.» Nob sounded so virtuous that Blade had trouble suppressing a grin. He studied Nob for a moment, then nodded. «You say you had a quarrel?» Blade looked away lest he smile. «What came of it?»

Nob stroked his lantern jaw. «You might say, sire, that I came of it. I tried to reason with them, sire, but they would have naught of it. In the end-well, master, I swear that I buried them decently and said proper prayers over them. By Juna's blonde fleece I did! I seen them off all right and proper.»

Blade believed him. And dismissed it with a nod. «And you came to Patmos in the little boat? And how to prison?»

Nob muttered gloomily. «Aye, straight to, prison. I had no chance at all, sire. The coast was alive with troops and watchers. At first I thought to fight, for you have seen what the soldiers are like, sire, and I could have eaten a score for breakfast-which reminds me, 'master, when are you going to find us something to eat?»

Blade, if he had acquired a good right hand and a servant, had also acquired a responsibility. As they circled a fountain and headed back toward the buildings he said, «Why did you not eat the meal in prison, Nob?»

The man's good right eye glittered and he smote a horny fist into his palm. «For the same reason you did not, master. My brains are not much, but they are mine and so far are not addled. I would keep them so. They put the drug penthe in the food here, to keep men happy and from thinking, like the salt they use in Thyrnian prisons to keep a man's cock limp. In the end it is the same-a man is. not a man!»

They strode a few paces in silence. Blade said, «How did you chance to know of the drug, Nob? You have been in Patmos before?»

For a long time Nob did not answer. Blade began to think that he was not going to answer when he finally cleared his throat and growled: «I have a feeling, master; now that we are twice met, that we are cast to each other for worse or better. So I must trust you, it seems.»

Blade met his eye. «I will not betray your trust, Nob. But what you tell must be of your own free will. The future is what interests me, not your past.»

«Aye. I know that. But I will tell you nonetheless-I have been in Patmos before now. I served in the army, which is how I come to know how poor it is, and if I am recognized I will be branded a deserter.»

Blade was not too much surprised at this intelligence. «What is the penalty for desertion here? Certainly not a violent punishment?»

«Nay. But a miserable one, sire. They force feed you the penthe and exile you to an isle for the rest of your life.»

Nob, after a moment, and with a scowl and in a tone of horror, added, «An isle without women, sire!»

Blade nodded in sympathy. In this he and Nob were on the same level-it was an inhuman punishment.

They passed a group of elderly men sitting on the benches. They did not lift their eyes as Blade and Nob strolled past. Nob grimaced with his blackened stumps. «You see, master? Accept the drug and you become like that.»

Blade inclined his head. Nob was right. Such apathy and inertia served to make a man little better than a corpse. It was death in life.

Nob said, «No half measures with me, master. I have told you that I am a deserter from the army of Patmosso know also that I am likewise a deserter from the Samostan army.» Nob did not try to hide his fear, nor the shudder that ran through his big body.

«That is one reason why I lagged in the fighting, sire. I always had thought to escape, and if not that I had intent to kill myself. For I am known to many officers in the army of Samos, and the penalty there for desertion is to be bound to a wheel and have your bones slowly broken with iron bars.»

Blade halted and, chin in hand, regarded his newly acquired man. He was pleased with this latest information-even a private soldier could tell him things about the Samostan army that he did not know at present-but he nonetheless kept his expression grim.

«So, Nob, you are three times a deserter? You admit this-from Patmos, from Samos, and lastly from Thyrne. That is the truth of it?»

Nob gave him a hideous grim with his broken stubs, and scratched at his newly cut hair, but there was a glint of anxiety in his good right eye. «In the main, sire, if you say it. But about Thyrne there might be a dispute of minds. I was pressed into Thyrnian service. I never joined of my free will.»

«And yet you are a Thyrnian? Born there?»

«Aye, sire. Born there.» Nob thrust his jaw at Blade and his eye hardened. «I showed you the gutter, if you remember. My birth bed.»

They walked on toward the building where they were quartered. Blade kept silent. He began to see a little method in all this madness, to discern a thread of reason and logic, of cause and effect, running through the seemingly 'mindless tapestry of events. Or he thought he did.

They halted again in a deserted plaza of lawn and flowers. There was no music box nearby, nor any inmates or Gray People. Blade fixed his man with a hard stare.

«I care nothing what you have done or been, Nob. We must have an understanding there. As we must have about the future-if you cast your lot with me I will expect loyalty and good service. I will accept nothing less and will punish for lack of it. I, in my turn, will bind myself to you, to protect and aid you and see to your comfort and well being. Think well and hard before you make a bargain, Nob, for I am not an easy forgiver. And the way will be hard-I know little of Patmos and will make mistakes. A battle is coming and you know the odds against us, for surely our lives ride in the balance, and if they break your bones with iron they will do worse. to me. Know you of the priest, Ptol?»

Nob spat. That was answer enough.

Blade smiled coldly and went on, «I humiliated Ptol, snatched Juna from him, and cut off his hand into the bargain. Now he has gone over to Hectoris-not a far journey, I suspect-and I doubt that he sleeps much for pain and dreams of revenge. But enough of that-I tell you so you will know that my life is as much risked as your own. Now, when you came to Patmos, in your little boat, how was it that you were brought to this very same prison as I was? For I think we were meant to meet here.»

Nob rubbed his pocked face and looked stupidly at Blade for a moment. Obviously the thought had not occurred to him. At last he shook his head. «I do not know, sire. Your mind runs faster than mine. I had not thought that we met but by accident and-«

Blade was remembering various conversations that had taken place on his way through the salt marshes with

Edyrn and the little.party. He had not spoken much to Juna, who had been keeping herself to herself; he had. spoken a great deal to the boy, Edyrn. And Edym, as Blade now knew, was Juna's man.

Man, he thought a little wryly, was the word. He had made a mistake in taking Edyrn for a mere callow stripling. A mistake of which Edyrn had taken full advantage. Blade had spoken of Nob, more to pass the time than anything else, and to make the miserable wet camps more bearable. It had seemed natural enough at the time, Blade thought now, but he was still a fool. Prattling on about his narrow escape in Thyme, about his adventures, with Edyrn soaking in every word and reporting it to Juna later.

It only required confirmation and a moment later Blade had it. Nob- said that a young officer resembling Edyrn had indeed interviewed him soon after his arrest.

«Aye,» mumbled Nob, searching his memory. «A short and bandy legged young cock he were, with blue eyes and yellow hair. Had an honest look to him, though that means nothing.»

«How was he dressed? How did he act? Think, 'man! Was he in command? Did he show authority or was he only a courier?»

«Oh, aye, he was in command right enough.» Nob waggled his long jaw. «Had a file of soldiers to his back. Ummnim-that's queer, now that I recall-«

«What was queer, man? Stop your maundering and tell me clearly what happened.»

Blade had no doubt that it was Edym being described. An Edyrn not so young and guileless as he had posed. An officer in the army of Patmos. And Juna's man all the way-or was he?

«The soldiers!» Nob smote a great fist into his palm. «That was different-they looked like real soldiers, clad in old leather and iron, and they carried weapons like they knew what they were for. How could that have slipped my mind? They were real soldiers, not like these nambies we've to do with, or I would not have gone along so easily.,

Blade thought that over for a moment. «They brought you straight here? To the prison?»

«Aye. And in silence, too. It was forbidden to speak.»

«And they mentioned nothing of me? This young officer-he is a man called Edyrn-he said nothing to you of me? No hint that I would come and join you in this prison?»

Nob shook his head. «None, 'master. I was treated well enough, but they told me nothing.»

Blade kept after him. «How was this Edyrn dressed? What rank did he display?» Nob was like a sponge. The information was there but you had to squeeze him to get it.

Nob put a finger to his hairy nostrils. «Aye-that is something else comes back to me. This younker officer were dressed in battle armor, like I said, and wore rank of a captain in the Pearl's own guard. I am sure, now, though I have seen it but once before. On his shoulders he wore the insigne of the black Pearl of Patmos. Of Izmia herself. She who lives in the volcano.»

They were passing a last bench before the entrance to the building. Blade sat down abruptly. It was coming too fast. He held up a hand to silence Nob.

There was no great mystery as to how Edyrn had come to Patmos so much before Blade-he had left earlier and he must have made the trip many times before, he would have known the currents and winds and the most direct route. The men he commanded might have been waiting for him. He had carried out Juna's orders and had Blade met and taken to prison-no great mystery to that, either-but before that he had encountered Nob-a chance meeting? — and at that time he had been in the uniform of a guardsman of the Pearl. Just who did Edym serveJuna or the Pearl of Patmos? Or both? And what possible purpose could Edyrn serve in throwing Blade and Nob together? And on whose orders?

Blade shrugged and gave it up for the moment. He looked at Nob and smiled. «Let us get back to the room and sleep a time. I have a feeling that we will need it. And I have another feeling-something is going to happen.»

Nob rubbed his belly. «Will it have to do with food, master?»

«I know not. Just as I do not know if it will be for good or ill, but there is something afoot. Come, Nob. Before we fall asleep I wish to know all I can about this old woman who is called Pearl of Patmos. She who lives in a volcano? Is she black, then?»

They saw no one as they returned to their room. The music, still sweet and insidious, filled the room with languorous chords. Nob jerked his head at the music box and grimaced. «It never stops, sire. How can we outwit it?»

Blade motioned to a corner. «I will sing. You whisper in my ear. Tell me of this old lady who is said to live in a volcano, this old woman who Juna claims as grandmother.»

Blade began to sing. For some reason he could remember only a tune from Balfe, a thing his first nanny had often played on the piano and as often had sung to young Blade to lull him to sleep. He had not even thought of the song for years, now he sang it very badly and off key: «1 dreamt 1 dwelt in marble halls. .»

Nob was staring at him as though he were sure Blade had gone daft. Blade scowled and jammed an elbow into his ribs. Surely his. singing was not that bad! And it did not matter-he had no intention of giving a concert, he wished to hear about this strange old lady of the volcano. This Pearl of Patmos-black Pearl? — in whom resided the real power on this island, and was Blade's best chance of survival.

Nob still stared, his jaw agape. Blade nudged him again and whispered, «Speak, man! What of this Izmia?»

Nob's coarse whisper came like the croaking of a giant frog. «I know not how you came by this information, master, but you have surely been talking to a liar or a fool. Izmia, the Pearl, may be a grandmother-I have no cause to doubt that-but if so she is such a grandmother as I would wed in my dreams. For the truth is, sire, that Izmia has no agel Others have age, not the Pearl. She remains young when others wither and die. As for colorshe is called black because, I wot, she is not exactly white. Nor brown nor yellow nor green. Her flesh, so they say,

for I have never seen her with this eye, is the color of flame. They say her skin changes color like a strange lizard that sailors tell of, though I have never believed that tale.

«But there is a black pearl, or so the legend goes, and it is as big as a cabbage and lies at the bottom of the volcano pool. Lies there with the sword of Patmos, the very sword of he who founded this island in the dawn of time. All this is, you understand, only a story, master. A myth and a legend to be told to fools and children. Men of the world like ourselves, sire, will not believe in such drool. Please, master, could you leave off singing now? I cannot stand it on an empty belly.»

Blade glared at him, but broke off to whisper. «But this Ifzmia, this woman called the Pearl of Patmos-the black Pearl as you say-she does really exist? I must know for certain, Nob. For if she does exist, and has power as she must, we are going to make our way to her as soon as we can.

Blade began to caterwaul again. «1 dreamt 1 dwelt in.. «

Nob winced and whispered hastily. «Aye-she exists sure enough. In all her beauty and her years she exists. But she is a recluse, master, and never leaves her volcano. Her guard slay all who try to disturb her privacy. I swear by Juna's golden ass, sire, that there is no way in which a mere man may come to look on Izmia. Unless-«

Fury exploded in the corridor outside their room. There was much shouting and a rush of feet and the clang of steel on steel. Men cursed and men screamed.

Blade left off singing and stared at the closed door. The skirmish in the hall was continuing and coming closer. He heard a familiar voice cry out a command: «That is enough of killing. Take the others prisoner lock them in a room until we are gone. Now hurry that door yonder.»

Blade looked at Nob, whose mouth was still open. «Unless what, Nob?»

Nob gulped. «Unless, master, Izmia sends for us.»

Blade stroked his jaw and eyed his man. «I think, Nob; that it has come to pass. We will know in a moment.»

The door was flung open. Edyrn, wearing battle dress and, sure enough, the black pearl on his shoulders, looked in at them. His sword was bloody. He bowed formally to Blade.

«I am glad to see you safe and well, sire, and glad that we meet again. I am sent to take you from this place to another. If you are ready? T4pre is no time to waste.»

Blade went to the stout idd and: shook his hand. He smiled. «It is I who am glad to see you, Edyrn. We go, I trust, to the volcano to see lzmia?»

Edyrn bowed again. His blue eyes were as cool and direct as ever, but his smile was tentative. TheЈe was a fresh dent in the steel helmet covering his flaxen pate and blood — on his body armor. Blade admitted;his mistake again. This was no boy, never mind his years-.this was a man and a warrior.

«We go to the Pearl,» said Edyrn, «but the long way around. Matters have taken course much faster than we anticipated, sire, and Patmos is in mortal peril. Hectoris cannot yet be ready to invade us-all our spies tell of his unpreparedness-yet he does make the attempt. A small party of Samostans landed on our coast not an hour gone. This must be seen to at once.»

For once Nob appeared awed. He followed Blade as they were escorted down the corridor and out of the building. Blood and bodies were strewn around the hallway and, somewhat to his sorrow, Blade saw that one of them was the Captain Osric who had taken him prisoner on the beach. Osric had died well enough, his dainty ceremonial sword through the throat of one of Edyrn's big Soldiers. All the other dead were the effete troops whom Blade had so despised at sight.

Edyrn pointed with.his sword at: the dead Osric. «A former friend of mine, and a good man, but he chose a different path. He was coming for you, with his men, just as I came with mine. A near thing, sire.»

Blade's glance flicked around the bloody hall. «tuna's men? She sent Osric for me?» She had promised that she would not forsake him.

But Edym shook his head. «No. Not Juna. Osric loved her, and sometimes served her, but he was commissioned to the King and Queen. To Kador and Smyr. It was they who sent Osric for you, Sire Blade, not Juna. You are most fortunate that I came when I did, and that I brought soldiers with me and not courtiers.»

Blade's head was spinning. Later he would sort it all out. Much later, if he had his way. Now ft was enough to step out into the sunset and smell the perfumed breeze again. And to think of food. Food without penthe.

Edyrn handed Blade a sword and belt. Blade hefted it with joy. It was a broadsword, longer and heavier than the one Juna had thrown into the sea. He buckled it on with a grin. Matters were beginning to shape to his liking at last.

«We will get you full armor later,» Edyrn explained. «Now we had best be gone into the countryside as soon as may be. I have but few men and a task to do, and I do not wish to encounter any more palace troops. In case you do not yet entirely understand, sire-there is civil war in Patmos this night.»

Blade had not understood; not at all. Civil war? Just another of a thousand things he did not understand, but he let his face show no.trace of his bewilderment.

«Civil war, Edyrn? Who fights?»

«The King and Queen have risen against Izmia, the Pearl of Patmos. They think victory certain because they know that the Pearl has only her Guard to protect her. But they choose a bad time for it-as I told you, Hectoris has chosen this very time to put his first troops ashore.»

Blade gave him a look. «Are you sure that it is coincidence? Is it such a bad time for them, for- Kador and Smyr? Is it not possible that they intend to betray Patmos from within? And what of Juna in all this? You seem reluctant to mention her, Edyrn. Why? Has Juna come to some harm?»

By now they had left the prison complex and were marching across far-stretching fields of loti. Cybar was behind them. Blade, glancing back, could see the shining silhouette of the palace against the sunset. It was quiet. None moved but themselves and a few Gray People working in the fields at late tasks.

Edym gave a command and his men flung themselves on the ground to rest. Nob looked at Blade, then did like-

wise. Edyrn took Blade to one side and spoke most respectfully.

«There is much I do not know, sire, and much I could not tell you ever if I did know. All that has happened has come suddenly and caught us unready.»

Blade sniffed at the perfumed air, bearing a slight tang of salt now, and listened to the omnipresent music from the kiosks; he watched the drugged Gray People toiling in the fields and thought it not at all strange that Patmos had been caught off balance. Unready, as Edyrn put it. Blade doubted if Patmos had ever been ready.

Edyrn continued, «Jung, as near as I know, is safe in the palace, though under arrest. There is much political in this that I cannot explain at the moment, sire.»

Blade nodded agreement and fondled his sword hilt. «I agree. Forget everything else but this force of Samostans. Where are they and in what strength? Who leads them? What are their intentions? Have we men enough to handle them?»

Edym gave him a strange smile. «Some of those questions I can answer and some I cannot. But first you should know, sire, that we were most fortunate and have taken a prisoner-a prisoner I am sure you would like to question.»

Blade scowled. His first elation was passing and he had hunger pains again. «No riddles, Edyrn! Who is this prisoner? And why is it so important that I must question him personally?»

Edym slapped his thigh and laughed. He called to his men, then bowed to Blade and said, «His name is Ptol, sire. We caught him seeking to sneak into Cybar in the dress of the Gray People. Are you answered, sire?»

Blade laughed and nodded. He was answered indeed. Ptol! As Nob would say-by the Goddess Juna's golden assl Ptoll The fat little priest himself. The lisper. Caught trying to get into Cybar. Must have been heading straight for the palace. Blade could smell it. Another sell-out was in the making. Treason and treachery. How could he stop it? What could he and Edym and Nob and a few others do against the barbarian horde, the tough soldiers,

of Hectoris? Blade had seen the fall of Thyme-he knew the mettle of the Samostans.

So did the king and queen-thus the treachery. Hectoris had probably promised them their thrones if they aided in the overthrow of Izmia. Not that he would keep his word when the need for them was past.

And Juna? What of her? Why should he, Blade, worry about.her? His own life was at stake.

Edyrn had waited patiently, unspeaking. Blade said, «Where is this Ptol?»

Edyrn smiled. «A mile from here, sire. Near our lookout point. Shall we go and have a look at him?»

Blade's look was grim. «I care not so much to look at him, Edyrn, as to hear him speak. He lisps and he sprays spit this way and that, but I think there is much he can tell us.»

They were on the move again. Edyrn said, «He is defiant, sire. He knows that I am only a captain and he keeps demanding to be taken to a: higher up.»

«Does he, now?» Blade nodded. «I think we can arrange that.»

Edyrn went to the head of his troop. Blade fell back to be alone. Nob, seeing the expression on his face, gave him a wide berth.

Blade knew that the time had come. Time to move in and take command of the situation. He must be head man, must seize and use all the power he could, as speedily and effectively as he could. It was a tried and true technique and the only way to survive in Dimension X.

He stopped and drew the broadsword and examined it. The last rays of sun glinted red along the shining steel. He closed his great hand about the cold hilt until his knuckles were white.

Blood! So be it. Perhaps his own. But there was no other way-no other way in this strange world he must contrive to live in. Or die in.