Pirates Of Gohar

Chapter 10

It was late at night and Blade was returning to his suite from a banquet. His host had been an Admiral Mayarshet, one of Kloret's most reliable supporters. When he climbed into his chariot and drove off to the admiral's villa, Blade was ready to guard not only his tongue but his back.

Now he was coming home, ready to go to bed and digest what he had to admit was a memorable meal. It started off with three or four kinds of shellfish, raw, baked, or fried with bacon. It went on to a soup thick with plump grains of rice and bits of dark strong meat, then roast lamb, chicken baked in clay, an immense stew of goat meat and vegetables and another of a dozen kinds of fish. In the end he'd eaten enough to make the thought of any more food positively repulsive. Fine meals were part of even the poorest Goharans' hospitality, and Blade was moving among the richest and most generous in the Empire.

He pulled off his cloak, made of the water-repellent feathers of a sea bird, and gave it to a servant. He moved on down the hall toward his bedroom. By now he was sufficiently used to the servants kneeling as he passed to ignore them.

The last servants knelt as Blade passed into his bedroom and locked the door behind him. Fortunately the Goharans had good locks, and were willing to install one on his bedroom door when he asked for it. He said he needed to ensure privacy for his meditations. Upper-class Goharans weren't particularly religious. They'd have laughed out loud at Blade's calling himself a messenger from the gods. However, they knew that some people took the gods more seriously. If the English were such a people, Blade's request was reasonable.

The lock didn't completely guarantee Blade's safety, since there was a balcony outside the bedroom, and beside it a stout vine rising up the palace wall from the ground. Only a very light and agile person could climb the vine, however, and the palace guards would almost certainly spot anyone trying it.

A thunderstorm was moving in as Blade got ready for sleep. He'd washed and was turning toward the low bed when a sudden blaze of lightning flooded the room with its glare. Against the light, he saw the silhouette of a human figure climbing over the balcony railing.

Blade covered the rest of the distance to the bed in a single leap. He snatched his sword off the night table by the bed and with the other hand picked up one of the pillows. In another leap he was across the bed, and in a third he was at the balcony door.

As he stepped out onto the balcony, a clap of thunder exploded overhead. It sounded as if the sky itself was splitting apart and falling down on Gohar to crush it to powder. Whoever was on the balcony apparently felt the storm's power as well. In the rumbles and crashes after the first clap Blade heard someone moaning in fear but desperately trying to hide it.

Blade scanned the balcony, but in the darkness even his superb night vision couldn't find anything at first. Then he saw that one of the huge marble urns at the far end of the balcony was a little wider than it should have been. There was no time to lose and no room for maneuvering, so Blade simply charged, sword in hand. As he reached the urn, a vaguely human shape sprang up from beside it. Blade struck with the back of the sword and with the other hand clutched at where the head ought to be. A gasp of pain turned into a stifled scream as his fingers closed in long hair and pulled the intruder toward him. Then he was lifting the slim form, light enough to tuck under one arm while he held the other hand over its mouth. He kicked the door open, plunged through, and tossed the visitor face down on the bed.

Then another flash of lightning showed that his visitor was Kloret's daughter Fierssa.

She was wearing a man's trousers and tunic, and seemed to have no weapons on her anywhere. Blade felt safe in leaving her to retrieve his sword and close the balcony doors. As he came back he saw her shoulders begin to shake in silent weeping.

He sat down on the bed beside her and stroked her hair with one hand. «Fierssa, I don't think you've done anything wrong. But I'm going to have to ask why you're here. Did your father send you?»

Fierssa started and looked up at Blade. In spite of the tears still running down her cheeks, she giggled, then began to laugh. A moment later she was laughing so hard that Blade was afraid the servants would hear. He pulled her across his lap, held her tightly with one arm, and clamped the other hand over her mouth again.

Slowly Fierssa giggled and gasped herself into silence. Then she sat up, wiped her face on a corner of the sheet, and said, «Blade, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so weak. But I'm frightened of thunderstorms. That's why I came tonight. Then when you asked me about my father…» She clenched her fists and bit her lips, and after a moment could speak again.

«My father would kill me if he knew why I was here,» she said. «And not quickly, either.»

«For having an affair with me?»

«No, for treason. I've come to ask your help for the rebels of Mythor.»

Blade's voice was low and quite expressionless. «Fierssa, I think you'd better tell me more. Much more. Otherwise I may tell your father that you came here, if not why.»

This started Fierssa crying again, and Blade held her until she calmed down as much as she could under the circumstances. Blade had the distinct feeling that Fierssa might be rather high-strung to be a successful conspirator.

She also felt very comfortable in his arms. Her warmth was pleasant, since it was an unusually cool night for this time of year in Gohar, Instead of perfume, she exhaled the agreeable smell of a clean, healthy young woman.

When she was able to talk, she needed only a little prompting from Blade to tell the story of the Friends of Mythor and what they wanted from Blade.

There was indeed a rebel movement in Mythor. It was not hostile to Goharans in general, only to Gohar's rule over its daughter city. They felt Mythor paid too much in taxes and didn't receive enough protection. The merchants of Mythor received fewer privileges, and the Emperor's judges almost always decided in favor of Goharans. And so on and so forth. Gohar simply hadn't recognized that its daughter city was developing pride, self-confidence, and the ability to stand on its own.

«The rebels don't want a war against Gohar unless it's forced upon them. They'd much rather have Mythor declare its independence, then make a treaty of alliance with Gohar as a friend and equal.»

Fierssa couldn't say how this miracle was going to happen. She also couldn't say exactly what the Friends of Mythor in Gohar were planning on doing to help matters along. After a while Blade realized she couldn't say because she didn't know, and neither apparently did most of the other Friends of Mythor. Many of them were the children of court nobles, officers of the army and fleet, or wealthy merchants. They might very well be sincere in their friendship for Mythor and their belief that the rebellion could be peaceful. They also seemed hopelessly naive about everything else, including the dangers they were facing.

Blade realized that the Friends of Mythor weren't the sort of people he'd care to join in organizing a picnic, let alone a revolution. That thought also reminded him that Fierssa hadn't said exactly what the Friends wanted from him. He doubted it was simply that he take back word of their good intentions to his fellow Historians in England.

He asked her bluntly, and she was quiet so long he thought perhaps she didn't have an answer ready. Then she said slowly: «It depends on how much danger you're willing to run to make Mythor free.»

«In case you haven't noticed, I'm rather a well-known man in Gohar. Sneaking off to Mythor is out of the question. Also, I can't really help the rebels. I don't know whether Mythor succeeds in its rebellion or not.»

«Yes. My father mentioned that. I thought you might have been lying to him.»

«I wasn't. I don't know, and since I don't know I can't really help the rebels. That might change history enough to destroy the England where I lived. Then I might disappear, or be trapped here in Gohar for the rest of my life.»

«The freedom of the people of Mythor means nothing to you?» She sounded almost angry. She seemed blind to the possibility that anyone could disagree with her or her favorite cause. He decided to be blunt again.

«The people of Mythor mean very little to me, and so do the people of Gohar. I hadn't heard of either one until I came here. I've been in dozens of different times, among dozens of different peoples. I have to stand apart from their problems, or I would leave a trail of destruction behind me.» I hope she never finds out I've done exactly that in some Dimensions. «If the people of Mythor have a good cause, I certainly wish them well. But I doubt if I can help them.»

For a moment Blade was sure Fierssa was going to start crying again. Then she got herself under control and said, «Will you at least meet with some men the rebels have sent here to Gohar? You can talk to them, and decide if it's safe to go to Mythor. If you do go, we can introduce you to other rebels.»

That made enough sense for Blade to consider it. He wouldn't be committing himself to anything, except a certain amount of danger if Kloret's spies had penetrated the Friends of Mythor. Considering what amateurs the Friends seemed to be, they probably had been penetrated.

He was willing to run that risk. Fierssa was giving him the best chance he'd probably have of making contact with the rebels, and he'd promised Princess Elyana he'd try to do this. Once he'd learned what might be going on in Mythor, he could go ahead and tell Elyana. The Friends of Mythor might not have much practical power, but Elyana and her husband were another matter. If he gave them a powerful weapon against Kloret, they could be trusted to know how to use it.

«I'd like to meet-«he began, then a whole salvo of thunderclaps drowned him out. Fierssa whimpered and held onto him as if he was a log and she was drowning. When the thunder died away, Blade stroked her hair and continued.

«I'd like to meet some of the Friends of Mythor. After that, we can meet the rebels who are in Gohar. Then I'll see about going south.» Blade wished he didn't have to promise the first meeting. Unfortunately, the Friends would probably be insulted and therefore uncooperative if he didn't work through them. Amateurs! The word had the quality of an obscenity.

«Blade?»

He realized he'd spoken out loud. «Nothing, Fierssa.» Another thunderclap, and she quivered all over. Blade laughed softly. «Fierssa, if thunderstorms frighten you so much-«

She looked up at him almost defiantly. «Because they frighten me, I came out tonight. I must make myself strong, gain courage, stop being a child and become a woman. My father won't help me, so I must do it all myself.»

Now Blade could see her smiling in the darkness. «Also, my father knows how thunderstorms frighten me. If anyone saw me or learns you had a woman in your room, he'll hear about it. But he'll never believe it was me, running around in the middle of a storm. Never.»

Blade kissed her on the forehead. It must have taken real courage to force herself out into the storm. She'd also shown a certain grasp of practical psychology, picking a night which would confuse her father and cover her tracks.

Perhaps she doesn't have as much to learn as I thought then Blade decided he was not going to get tangled up in running a school for Gohar's young revolutionaries. They were going to have to learn their lessons themselves. With Kloret around, he was afraid they would learn some of those lessons the hard way.

«Blade,» Fierssa said shyly. «Could I stay here with you until the storm passes?»

«All right, but you'd better be gone before it starts to get light. If one of the sentries challenges you-«

«I understand.»

«Good. There are sleeping robes in the chest in the corner, if you want to get out of those wet clothes.»

She went over to the chest, and Blade rolled over, carefully looking away. He heard the plop of wet cloth hitting the floor, then the rustle of shell-tissue on skin, the soft padding of bare feet, and finally more rustling as Fierssa climbed into bed. A moment later two slim, warm arms slipped around him from behind, and even warmer lips closed on the lobe of one ear.

«Fierssa-?»

«Blade, they're going to say you had a woman in your room tonight. If you're going to have to face the talk anyway, why not get some pleasure out of it as well?» She laughed, and her teeth closed on his ear just hard enough to tell him she knew exactly what she was doing.

Now it was Blade's turn to laugh. He rolled over and found the girl pressing her body against his even before he'd stopped moving. His hands moved down her body to her waist and touched bare skin where her robe had crept up to her hips. They slipped in under the robe to stroke her thighs, and he heard her moan. His hands moved back and forth, reaching the little damp tuft of hair between her thighs, and she moaned louder.

Then her hands also moved, pulling up his robe. For a moment his fingers lay across small firm breasts with hard nipples. Then she pulled herself completely out of his hands, her head swooped down between his thighs like a bird, and her mouth closed on him.

«Fierssa-«

«Lie still, Blade. There's time, and there's strength in you.» The words came out muffled, because she didn't stop working as she spoke.

«Fierssa.» It was a sigh, with exquisite delight and exquisite pain mixed together in it. Then Blade couldn't even say the girl's name, as she served him with impossible, unimaginable gifts of skill and tenderness, torturing him so that he would gladly have been tortured this way for hours on end.

Mere human flesh couldn't stand hours or even a few minutes of what Fierssa was doing. Blade felt himself on the edge of exploding, fought as long as he could, then fell over into the explosion. Fierssa didn't stop, didn't draw back, and didn't speak until Blade caught his breath.

«Oh, Blade-«Her voice was half-choked. Lightning flashed, and in the glare he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed. She was naked now, her breasts were as lovely as he'd imagined, and the thought of touching them woke desire in him again. This was impossible, but it was also happening.

He sat up and put both hands on Fierssa's shoulders. Startled, she tried to twist away, but he tightened his grip. Finding one hand enough to hold onto her, he stroked her breasts with the other. She stopped trying to twist free, and her eyes closed. Blade moved the other hand down between her thighs. Her mouth sagged open, she swayed like a tree in the storm outside, then fell back across the bed.

Now it was as if there was a telepathic link between Blade and Fierssa. Her thighs slid apart at the exact moment Blade was prepared to enter her, and her arms and legs locked around him as she took him into herself. She moaned, then tried to choke off a cry, then stopped trying. By now Blade was too aroused to care whether or not the servants heard.

He drove himself into her almost fiercely, holding himself under control until she'd twisted and tossed under him twice. Then as she reached a third climax he found his own, and his breath went out in a long groan as hers went out in a great sobbing sigh. She was asleep even as he drew himself free of her.

Blade didn't sleep. He knew that if he did, he'd never awaken in time to send Fierssa on her way before daylight. That would certainly make the worst sort of trouble for her, and probably too much for him. So he stayed awake. Never on any mission, in Home Dimension or Dimension X, had he faced such a struggle against sleep.

Eventually Fierssa awoke, kissed him, pulled on her clothes, and was gone into the rain. Blade stayed awake long enough to see her safely on the ground, slipping away through the trees. There were no guards in sight, and no trace of dawn in the dark sky that still dripped rain. She should be able to reach home without being challenged.

Then he lurched back into the bedroom, and was asleep before he could even properly stretch out on the bed.