The Lords Of The Crimson River

Chapter 4

A moment later, the smells in the smoke told Blade he'd made the transition safely and was in Dimension X. He identified burning wood, straw, and manure, as well as another stench which a man never forgets once he's smelled it for the first time.

Burning human flesh.

Somewhere close at hand was battle, fire, or disaster.

Blade opened his eyes. He was standing in the same position he'd been in when Leighton pulled the switch, with all his equipment and clothing apparently intact. He was also facing a weathered timber wall with smoke oozing out of the joints between the boards. On top of the wall a thatched roof was blazing, dropping embers and hot ashes all around Blade. On either side was more smoke, a few dimly seen figures scurrying through it, and other figures lying still on the ground. Behind Blade was a stand of evergreen trees. He quickly retreated into their cover, then pulled on his sandals. If he'd had time, he would have savored this pleasure of putting something on his feet, but this looked like a good place to leave as soon as possible.

Blade started moving through the trees to his right, to get clear of the burning barn at least. As he moved, he started hearing the sounds of battle. When he reached a place opposite the village square, he saw that the village was the scene of a battle between two bands of medieval-looking armored knights. Both sides were mostly on foot, with only a few mounted men. One side wore black plumes on their helmets, while their opponents wore green gloves on their left hands.

Otherwise there wasn't much difference between the two bands. Both wore knee-length coats of mail with plate reinforcements on their lower legs, forearms, and chest. Their helmets were all open-faced. Either archery wasn't used, or they preferred clear vision to protection against an arrow in the face. From the way they moved and used their weapons, they were all trained and experienced fighters.

Blade was particularly well qualified to judge their fighting skill. He'd been a member of the Medieval Club during his days at Oxford, and worked out several times a week with replicas of medieval swords, maces, and shields. This skill had saved his life in several Dimensions. It now looked as if this might be another one where such skill would be useful.

Most of the villagers seemed to have already left, either fleeing or, perhaps, being carried off by the knights. Blade decided to follow them. He couldn't see any way to join the fight in such a way that one side would become friendly to him. Even if he did join in, he wasn't sure how much good this would do. Feudal knights could be thick-armed, thick-headed types who saw any nonknight as dirt beneath their feet, whatever he did for them. Blade didn't plan to end up in some baron's dungeon, suspected of being an escaped serf!

The noise of the fighting seemed to die away as he made his way along the fringes of the village. After a while he left the trees behind and skirted the edge of the grainfields. The grain was as tall as he was, and fortunately hadn't caught fire yet.

Blade was about to head off into the grain, away from the village, when he suddenly stepped out onto open ground. Half a dozen houses straggled out into the fields on either side of a dusty trail. In the middle of the trail, two knights were fighting furiously. Both were on foot and both had blood leaking from their armor, but this didn't seem to be slowing them down much. The green-gloved knight had a morningstar, a spiked ball on the end of a length of chain, attached to a short handle. His black-plumed opponent was wielding a mace and shield.

Blade slipped into one of the cottages and watched the fight from inside its doorway. The knight with the morningstar seemed to have a slight edge. At least he was slowly backing his opponent toward Blade. Blade decided that he might have a good chance after all to make a friend in this Dimension by saving the knight with the mace. Even in the most custom-bound medieval societies, serfs who saved knights were often richly rewarded. Blade sucked at teeth caked with soot and smoke. He decided that for now he'd be satisfied with the reward of a large drink, the answers to a few questions about this Dimension, and no questions asked about himself. He drew his knife and got ready to join the fight.

Then suddenly the whole situation changed. The knight with the mace swung it at his opponent's morningstar as the ball flew toward him. The chain wrapped around the mace, jerking it out of the knight's hand but also immobilizing the morningstar. Before the knight could drop his morningstar and draw his dagger, his opponent ran forward and smashed the steel boss of his shield into the other's face. He crashed backward onto the ground, spitting out blood and loose teeth. His opponent stood over him, placed one foot on his weapon arm, and knelt to finish off the fallen man with his dagger.

The dagger was only inches from the fallen knight's face when a dark shape seemed to fly through the air from the roof of Blade's cottage. It landed on the back of the kneeling knight's neck, and he leaped up with a scream. Then he screamed again and started stabbing futilely at the attacker with his dagger. Blade saw that the animal had a tail, then saw it reach an arm around the helmet. The knight screamed a third time, a horrible shriek of agony and fear, and whirled around. A thin, almost needlelike dagger was sticking out of his right eye. Blade saw that the dagger was smeared with something green and slimy, and realized it was probably poisoned. Then the animal which had stabbed the knight jumped down to the ground and drew all Blade's attention.

It was a living creature, about two feet from head to toe, with a long tail waving behind it. It had roughly the shape and appearance of a Home Dimension monkey, but from where Blade stood it seemed to be entirely covered with feathers. Certainly there were tufts of bright blue-and-green feathers at elbows and knees, and a feather crest on top of its head. It also seemed to be wearing a metal belt of some kind. The whole creature was so unlikely that for a moment Blade wondered if the transition to Dimension X was giving him hallucinations. Then he decided not. The universe was large and strange, and it was never wise to say that something was impossible. If he saw a combat-trained monkey with feathers, he'd assume it was really there.

The stabbed knight staggered about for a minute, screaming, then moaning, then drooling silently. Finally he collapsed, his face turning a sickly yellow, and went into convulsions. By the time he lay still, his opponent was sitting up, exploring his ruined mouth with one hand while the other hand fumbled for his fallen weapon.

He stood up abruptly as he caught sight of the monkey and backed off several steps. It looked to Blade as if he wanted to keep his distance from the monkey, even if it had killed his enemy. The monkey ignored him, scampered over to the dead knight, and began tugging at his dagger. The knight took another step backward. As he did so, he caught sight of Blade standing in the doorway of the cottage.

His response was simple and straightforward. He snatched up his morningstar, whirled it around his head, and charged at Blade.

The monkey's response was just as simple. It forgot about its dagger, leaped into the air with a yeeeep of fear, and came down running. Blade didn't see where it went after that: He was too busy with the knight.

Blade would have faced the knight with only his commando knife except for one piece of luck. As the knight swung his morningstar, the mace untangled itself from the chain and flew straight at Blade. He ducked, then caught it almost before it hit the ground. By the time the knight was within striking distance, Blade was ready to meet him.

Blade decided against fighting inside the cottage, although in there the knight wouldn't be able to swing the morningstar. That way he'd lose any claim to honorable treatment. The knight would probably just call up his friends and have Blade butchered on the spot like a wild boar. Instead, he charged out of the cottage door, moving sharply to the right. The spiked ball of the morningstar promptly whizzed past his ear. The knight's wounds seemed to be affecting his accuracy but not his strength: If that ball connected…

Blade made two complete circles around the knight, willing to trade a little time for more knowledge of his opponent. The knight had armor and Blade had none. He'd be lucky to get more than one good chance at the man.

At last Blade saw that the knight tended to aim low. He dropped into a crouch, then leaped aside as the ball swept down and bounced violently off the hard-packed earth. For a moment the morningstar was out of control and the knight stood wide open. Blade closed, slammed one hand up under the knight's right arm, and swung the mace hard at the knight's temple. Blade felt sharp edges on the armor gouge his hand, but he also heard metal crunch under the mace. The knight toppled sideways in a cloud of dust and a clattering of armor.

Although blood was running from his nose and ears as well as his mouth, the knight was still breathing steadily. Blade dragged him into the cottage, roughly bandaged his face wounds with clothing torn from his dead opponent, and left him there. At least he'd be out of the sun and not likely to get trampled by stray horses. With luck, someone from his own side would find him before the battle ended. In any case, he wouldn't be talking to anyone until Blade was long gone from this village.

The thought of stray horses reminded Blade that there might be quicker ways of getting out of the village than walking. Getting out of the village quickly was now even more important than before. The screams of the poisoned knight must have made enough noise to be heard all over the village. Someone would investigate before too long.

Blade found a horse with black plumes on its bridle tethered behind the third cottage along the trail. He approached it cautiously, remembering that a knight's trained war-horse was sometimes a one-man animal. At best it would be highly suspicious of strangers, although Blade trusted his horsemanship to keep him in the saddle if the horse let him mount at all.

Blade was standing quietly in front of the horse, letting it get used to his scent, when a feather-monkey darted around the end of the cottage and dashed under the horse's belly. It leaped high, stabbing with its dagger, and as it came down it rolled out from under the horse. The horse reared with a scream of pain and surprise. Blade jumped back as the horse reared again, waving its forefeet and snapping its teeth in his face. It reared a third time, the railing to which it was tethered snapped like a rotten twig, and it bolted. The feather-monkey jumped up and down, squealing and squeaking in triumph.

That was its last mistake. Blade swung the mace, then threw it as hard as he could. It was as accurate as the commando knife, which wasn't designed for throwing, and much heavier. It caught the monkey across the back. The triumphant squealing turned to a pitiful yip-yip-yip which went on until Blade ended it with his knife.

This was the second time in less than twenty minutes that he'd seen one of those feather-monkeys show training or possibly even intelligence. It was better to assume that the monkey who attacked the horse could also warn its human masters about Blade. By killing it he'd gained another few minutes head start.

Blade used a couple of those minutes to make a quick search of the nearest cottage. Between the villagers carrying off their valuables and the knights looting everything else, there wasn't much left. He did find half of an old blanket, a cracked bow with a still-sound bowstring, and a foot-long chunk of sausage which smelled fresh.

Outside again, he wrapped the dead monkey in the blanket and tied it up with the bowstring. Then he stuck the sausage in his belt, sheathed the knife, and started off down the trail at the mile-eating lope he'd learned from the warriors of Zunga.

Five minutes later, six knights rode in among the cottages. They were too far away for Blade to make out which side they were on, and they showed no signs of seeing him. By then he was far enough away that they probably took him for one more stray villager, not worth chasing down.