The Golden Steed

CHAPTER SIX

Guroth swore the air blue the next morning when Blade told him that Curana was riding to Vilesh with them. At least he swore until Blade fixed him with a cold look. «Captain Guroth. I told you last night that Curana did nothing against me. Are you suggesting I have lied?»

That brought Guroth to a screeching halt. Or rather, a gulping halt. He sat in his saddle, mouth opening and shutting as though he were gasping for air, hands frozen on the reins. Then he said, «No, Pendarnoth. I only wonder what you see in the girl.»

«She is an innocent victim of those plots and counterplots you have tried to explain to me,» said Blade. «That is enough for me. I will protect her and ones like her whenever I can.»

«You are merciful, Pendarnoth. I hope you are wise enough to know that there are times not to be merciful. The prophecies said the Pendarnoth would come bearing a sword of wrath for the enemies of the Pendari. When are you going to fulfill that part of the prophecy?»

«When I meet an enemy of the Pendari,» said Blade shortly. «And that has not happened yet.» He turned decisively on his heel and strode away.

The trip to Vilesh took them five more days, although they moved south as fast as their horses would carry them. Blade would have liked to slow the pace to accommodate Curana, but did not ask it of Guroth. Asking for any more concessions for Curana might weaken his authority with Guroth. And quick-tempered as he might be, Guroth was an able and essentially fair-minded man, an ally Blade could not spare now. In fact, Guroth was the only ally Blade had for the moment. It might be different after they reached Vilesh.

The towers of Vilesh rose out of the plain in late afternoon of the fifth day. For the past few days they had been traveling across semi-arid country, with only sparse patches of grass and even sparser flocks of sheep and goats to break the monotony. But Vilesh lay on a major river, and the waters of that river flowed through a complex network of irrigation canals to water the fields that fed Vilesh. For many miles around the yellow-brown walls of the city, the land was green and lush. The red-tiled roofs of solid whitewashed cottages stood out in vivid contrast in the sparkling clear air.

The city itself sprawled across five hills. Its walls rose and fell for miles as they made their way up and down the slopes. Beyond the high walls, the towers of palaces and temples rose, some of them gilded, others shining in a dozen different colors. All of them were flying banners, and tall plumes of yellow smoke rose from the tops of some of them.

«They seem to be expecting us,» Blade said to Guroth.

«They are indeed, Pendarnoth,» said the captain. He had apparently forgiven Blade for his sharpness in Lio. «I sent one of my men on ahead last night with the news that the Pendarnoth has come. There will be a festival such as there has never been in the whole history of Vilesh. If any work gets done today, it will be a miracle.»

He looked at Blade. «You said you have been a soldier. Have you ever been a general, and returned to a great city after winning a great victory?»

«More or less,» said Blade. «I take it that today it will be much like that in Vilesh.»

«Indeed. The people will be half-mad with joy. The Pendarnoth has come, a thousand years of prophecy fulfilled, and their safety ensured. I wish by all the gods that I could bring myself to such a simple faith. But I cannot. Klerus and the Lanyri are too formidable to be met by any Father of the Pendari, unless he also has the wisdom and warcraft of a great leader. And whether you have those, I do not know.»

«You could not expect to, Guroth,» said Blade. «You have not known me long enough. Know me longer, and I think you will find that I have some of these talents you speak of.»

«I hope so,» said Guroth. «With all my heart, I hope so.» He broke off suddenly and pointed toward Vilesh. Blade looked that way and saw a cloud of yellow dust moving out from the gate nearest them. «An escort is coming out to bring us in.»

Blade looked back to see how Curana and the other soldiers looked. The soldiers looked no better than men who had been riding for weeks could look-dirty, sunburnt even darker than usual, and tired. But Guroth obviously wasn't worried about their appearance, so there was no point in Blade's worrying about it either.

Curana was another matter. She had never been on a horse in her life before they left the village. But by sheer willpower she had managed to stay in the saddle and keep pace with the rest of the party. What it had cost her in physical strain was written in the lines carved deep in her thin, dusty face. And how much it had cost her inside to force herself onward, away from her native village, enduring the coldness and the taunts of the soldiers, only she knew. At least Guroth had held his men somewhat in check, and said nothing to her himself. He hoped the gamble he was taking for the girl's safety would be a winner.

The dust cloud was approaching rapidly, and Blade began to see glinting metal and fast-moving dark shapes at its base. There seemed to be at least a hundred horsemen in the approaching party, all riding hell-for-leather. Pennons fluttered from lances held rigidly upright. They did not slow down until they were almost up with Blade's party. Then a horn blared out loud and harsh, and a hundred gloved hands jerked on a hundred sets of reins. In a tremendous uproar of hooves, neighings, and jangling harnesses, the escort came to a stop. Its leader looked behind him to see that his men were in good order, then rode out toward Blade.

As the man approached, Blade could see that gold must indeed be abundant among the Pendari. All the metal fittings of the horse's harness shone with the dull yellow gleam of dust-covered gold. So did the high-crowned helmet on the officer's head, the chain of rank around his lean neck with its prominent Adam's apple, the hilt of his sword, and the tip of his lance. Between them the officer and his horse must have been carrying a small fortune in gold. Blade had vivid memories of what gold was worth in Home Dimension these days. He could understand the Lanyri desire to get their hands on the gold of the Pendari.

The officer raised his clasped hands and bowed his head. Blade noticed, however, that his dark eyes never left his face during the bow-except when they shifted quickly to Guroth.

Then the officer raised his head, lowered his hands, and said, «I am Threstar, High Captain of the Archers of the Council of Regents. In the name of King Nefus and of the Council of Regents, I hail you, Pendarnoth, and bid you welcome to Vilesh.»

«I am honored by the greetings of the King of Pendar,» said Blade smoothly. He waited just long enough for Threstar's mouth to harden into a thin line. Then he added in the same tone, «And the greetings of the Council of Regents.» Threstar's face smoothed out. Blade noted that Guroth had not missed this little exchange.

Without further words to Blade, Threstar began barking orders. His hundred horsemen formed up in a double line on either side of Blade. Guroth also snapped out his share of orders, and the men of the patrol fell back to let Blade ride in solitary splendor. Then Threstar's hand chopped down like an axe, the horns blew again, and the whole procession moved out.

They returned to Vilesh at a trot, not at a gallop, but the hundred horses on either side of him kicked up a cloud of dust that made Blade cough and blink nonetheless. The dust could not, however, conceal the people lining the road. Some stood in awe-struck silence, others cheered and waved and shouted, «Hail to the Pendarnoth!» while still others threw flowers. Some found there was not enough room along the road itself, so they scrambled up on fences, the roofs of cottages, even the branches of trees.

It got worse as they approached the walls of the city. Now people clung to trees by the hundreds, holding banners embroidered in gold and silver out over the road. Blade had to keep his head low to avoid being hit in the face by the heavy cloths. The flowers poured down like a hailstorm, until there were blossoms sticking in Blade's hair and clothing and the horse's mane.

There was a moment of darkness, coolness, and comparative quiet as they rode through the gateway in the thick walls of the city. Then it all began again-the cheers, the cries, the crowds pressing so close that the escort on either side had to wheel their horses inward to keep from riding people down. Sometimes they had to stop entirely, as small children sprinted across the street in front of them. Blade saw Threstar's face in one of those moments. It was the face of a man who would much prefer to have spurred his horse ahead and trampled the child into a bloody paste on the stones of the street. But he was holding himself in today, for today was the coming of the Pendarnoth and no ill omen must be allowed to spoil it. One of the advantages of being a messiah, thought Blade. With luck you can put everybody around you on their good behavior-even the natural storm-trooper types like Threstar.

They rode down the street from the gate for quite a while. Occasionally Blade twisted his head around to look back at Guroth and the others-especially Curana. In this mob scene it would be easy for something to happen to her «accidentally.» But each time he looked back, she was still in her saddle. Her face was strained and pale under the coating of dust, but she held herself as erect as any of the soldiers around her.

After what couldn't have been more than a few minutes but seemed like an hour, the whole procession rode out into a gigantic square. It seemed the better part of a mile on a side, and except for a narrow lane kept open by a double line of mounted archers, it was packed with people. Every living soul in Vilesh seemed to have come out to greet the Pendarnoth. There were great-grandfathers who had to be carried on litters, and there were newborn infants in their mothers' arms.

Once again only a part of the mob was cheering, while others stood in reverent silence. But the cheers from even that part were enough to make a constant deafening roar in Blade's ears. For the first time, he saw Curana cringe as the sound beat at them. And not only the sound. A quarter of a million people standing packed under even a westering sun were not too sweet to the nose.

At the far side of the square another wall rose, this one dazzling white. Beyond it Blade could see the heavily gilded roofs of a number of elegant buildings. A palace? Probably. Directly ahead, at the far end of the passage through the crowd, stood a gateway, intricately carved and still more dazzlingly gilded. The gates were swung open and a small group of richly dressed figures stood in front of them. They were flanked by more archers in gilded armor.

As the procession approached the gate, Blade could make out the figures more clearly: a dozen men with gray in their hair, wearing shimmering gold and red robes; an enormously fat man in solid red, standing at their head. That must be the Council of Regents and the High Councilor Klerus. A much smaller and slimmer figure, dressed in gold from head to foot, stood beside Klerus. A crown of gold set with rubies shone on his small head. King Nefus, beyond any doubt. And another slim figure, slightly taller, dressed in white, standing well behind the others. Princess Harima?

The archers on either side of the royal party put trumpets to their lips, and more harsh metallic blasts rolled across the square. The trumpeters kept on blowing until Blade wondered how they could have any breath left. The cheers died away, and an awe-struck silence floated down over the crowd like a fog. Threstar reined in his horse, jumped down to the ground, and took the bridle of the Golden Steed. His face impassive, he led Blade and his mount up to the royal party, stopping only ten feet away from Klerus.

Blade suddenly realized he hadn't the foggiest notion of what he was going to say. Hopefully this wasn't an occasions for speeches. But if he had to say anything, he would have to rely on saying it as impressively, and as briefly, as possible. The crowd seemed half ready to fall down on their faces anyway, so they weren't going to be picking holes in his choice of words or delivery.

Threstar knelt to the boy who was King Nefus, and then to the High Councilor Klerus. Even if he hadn't been told that Klerus was a eunuch, Blade would have recognized it now. The man's immense physical bulk and high pitched voice were unmistakable.

Threstar wasted no words. After kneeling, he merely raised his right hand and pointed at Blade. «The Pendarnoth has come, Oh King.» Klerus, the entire Council, and the Princess Harima all joined him in kneeling to Blade. Only the king himself remained standing. Behind him Blade heard a silence fall over the crowd as people by the thousands went down on their knees or even on their faces. But he did not dare turn this time and look at Curana.

Instead, he sat on his horse and let the silence spread around him, until it seemed that the whole square was holding its breath waiting to hear him speak. He took a deep breath and spoke.

«King Nefus, I am the Pendarnoth, the Father of the Pendari, the man who rides the Golden Steed. I have come as it was predicted in your Book of the Nine Prophets. I have looked upon the Pendari and I have found them a worthy people.» Blade fell silent, and realized that he couldn't have said much more if he had to. His throat was dry and there was a hollow cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

But he didn't need to say anything more, because King Nefus cried out in a clear, boyish voice, «Hail to the Pendarnoth, all people. Hail!» Klerus screamed it out; Threstar echoed him-and then the entire packed square burst into a continuous roar of «Hail to the Pendarnoth!»

The Golden Steed neighed and shuddered nervously as the cheers of a quarter of a million people thundered around it. Blade held the reins tightly and stroked its mane, afraid for a moment that it was going to rear or even bolt. That would be a fine spectacle-the long-awaited Golden Steed running away with the Pendarnoth, scattering the royal party like bowling pins.

How long the cheers and cries lasted Blade had no idea. Beyond a certain point his ears simply wouldn't accept any more sound. Finally he became aware that the noise was ebbing, and that King Nefus was looking up at him. The king's face was indeed that of a boy, thin and brown and large-eyed. But as he looked up at Blade, there was an intensity and a seriousness in his expression that was definitely not that of a boy.

Blade smiled as he looked down at the king. «Your Majesty, I have come before your people. They have seen me, and I have seen them. There is much more that can be done and must be done. But it need not be done here and now, with all the people of this mighty city standing in the sun. Let them return to their homes in peace, let them wish me well, and let me be found a fit and proper place to live. Can this be done, Your Majesty?»

Nefus turned to the High Councilor. «I think we can do these things for the Pendarnoth, can we not, Councilor?»

Klerus nodded his massive head. «We can, Your Majesty.»

«Then let these things be done,» said the king, his voice ringing out with a sudden unexpected strength in the stillness. Then the trumpeters snapped their trumpets up to their lips and shattered the silence with more harsh blasts. Threstar and the other officers began bawling, «Return to your homes and rejoice, Oh people! The Pendarnoth and the king give you leave to go.»

Blade saw stirrings and boilings in the crowd as people began to turn and try to make their way toward the edges of the square. But he did not have time to see much more than that. Threstar again took the Golden Steed by the bridle, and strode forward through the palace gates. Blade risked a look behind him, and saw Guroth urging his horse forward, leading his patrol and Curana after Blade.

He was off to a good start, at least. But a good start would only be a small part of the battle he would be fighting here. What would be the next part? He rather hoped it would be a talk with Klerus. He did not particularly want to make any moves until he had had a chance to size up the High Councilor.