The Mountains Of Brega

Chapter 13

Blade felt even more disgusted with the women than he did with himself. But he kept his mouth shut.

Nugun didn't, however. He beat his chest and jumped up and down. He bellowed and roared and cursed and screamed. He even snatched up clods of earth from the sides of the pit and hurled them up at the women standing around the edge. One clod hit hard. The woman clapped a hand to her arm and swore back at Nugun. The women on either side of her raised their scythes and glared down.

Blade realized that Nugun's rage was likely to get both of them killed outright.

«Nugun!»

The Senar spun around, with another clod raised in one massive hand.

«Blade?»

«Nugun, stop that at once!»

«But women, they-«

«I said stop it!»

Nugun grunted a reluctant agreement and let the clod drop. Blade could see the women above relax.

A thick rope snaked down over the edge of the pit. Blade walked over to it and found that it would hold his weight. Slowly he began to climb, hand over hand, looking up occasionally. If the women above were just a little careless when he reached the top…

But as he crawled out on the edge of the pit, the women stepped back, holding their tools in front of them. As Blade rose to his feet, three of them ran forward, carrying a tight-meshed net of heavy rope, with stones tied around its edges. The net soared into the air and came down on top of him, weighing him down until he could barely lift his arms.

A bellow from below told of another burst of rage from Nugun. Blade turned and saw the Senar swarming up the rope like a maddened ape. As his massive head burst over the edge of the pit, one of the women stepped close to Blade and thrust a knife against his ribs. Then she shouted over her shoulder to Nugun:

«You fight-he dies.»

The knife pricked Blade's ribs. He felt blood ooze out and trickle down. He held his breath, half mad with rage and helpless frustration. He wasn't quite sure that he wanted Nugun to stop.

But again Nugun grunted agreement, climbed out onto the edge of the pit, and stood up, arms at his sides. He stood there tamely as another net was thrown over him. His expression did not change even when one of the women stepped behind him with a stout club and brought it down full force on his head. Blade let out a roar of fury, but Nugun simply sagged down, dragging the three women off their feet. Blade could not help laughing at their struggles to untangle themselves from the net. He was still laughing when the other women led him away.

As the women marched Blade to the farmhouse, it was obvious that they weren't quite sure what to make of him. He could not possibly be an escaped Senar slave-he wasn't hairy or brawny enough. Breeding Males never left the House of Fertility-the guardians saw to that. And Blade couldn't possibly be female. So what was he?

When they reached the house, the women led Blade around to a shed out in back and locked him in. The last words he heard from his captors as they drifted away was a suggestion to ask the patrol the next time it came by.

Alone in the smelly and bug-ridden darkness, Blade considered his situation. There was a piece of good news in the women's words. They had no idea that people from the mountains might be prowling in the plains. So Blade wouldn't have to answer questions on the subject-or undergo torture for refusing to answer them.

But where was Nugun, and what had they done with him? Had they killed the Senar outright, or were they going to make him another farm slave? Blade suspected that Nugun would rather die than be a woman's slave. And left to himself, Nugun would certainly be able to goad the women into killing him sooner or later. Blade knew that the only thing he could do for the Senar was to escape before the patrol arrived and release Nugun.

But there was no hope of escaping during the remaining daylight hours. Blade went over to the door and tested the lock. The rattle made the woman on guard outside turn and glower at him through the narrow slit in the heavy wood. He thumbed his nose at her and stepped back. The lock couldn't be broken, but the guard might be persuaded to open it. When darkness fell…

In the meantime, get some sleep. Blade lay down on the floor and made himself as comfortable as the hard dirt permitted. The lowing of cattle in a nearby corral was the last thing he heard as he drifted off to sleep.

Blade awoke to see that it was night outside, but not dark. Several torches sent flickering light through the cracks in the walls and the slit in the door. Blade could hear the sound of footsteps all around the hut and numerous voices, chattering like a whole cageful of birds.

Blade's eyes wandered across the floor of the hut. He started as he saw Nugun lying there, feet bound and hands tied behind his back. A massive crust of blood marred one side of his huge head.

Blade rose to his feet and was starting toward the Senar when the door of the hut opened with a rattle of chains and bolts. Blade spun around with a momentary notion of jumping the first woman who came through the door and snatching her weapons. Then he realized that even if he escaped now, he could only do so by abandoning Nugun. He would not do that. There would be other times.

The first four women to step through the door were all warriors in patrol uniforms. Two had drawn swords thrust out in front of them; the others carried strung bows with arrows nocked to them. The archers moved into opposite corners of the hunt, their arrows pointed at Blade. The swordswomen took positions on either side of the door. Then the patrol leader stepped into the hut.

Blade could not keep his jaw from falling open for a second in sheer astonishment. The patrol leader was the leader of the hunting party Blade had attacked in the forest! He got his mouth closed as soon as she recognized him, and her mouth opened in turn.

After a moment she grinned, white teeth snapping together. «Ah, the strange man of the forest. I have been wondering who you were and where you might have gone. Well, there is only one place you are going now. The arena of the city will have such a spectacle as never before, when you die there.» Then she turned on her heel, walked outside, and began shouting orders to the rest of the patrol and cursing the farm women for their slowness.

Lashed on by the tall woman's orders, the farm women pushed and shoved Blade out of the hut. They tied his hands and forced him into the back of a heavy wagon drawn by six of the blue-gray cattle. Then they brought Nugun out, still unconscious. They carried him up to the wagon and threw him into the straw in the bottom like a sack of grain. Blade glared down at the women, but they merely glared back and made obscene gestures at him.

The patrol leader climbed up on the seat of the wagon beside the driver and snapped out an order. With whip-crackings and shouts from the driver, the cart began to move, and the patrol fell in on either side of it. Sitting beside Nugun, helpless to do anything for him, Blade watched the farm recede into the darkness.

The wagon and its escort kept moving until the sky began to turn gray. Then the tall woman ordered a halt and let her fighters scatter into the fields. Some simply sagged down onto the ground and took off their boots and helmets; others broke out cheese and coarse bread and nibbled at that. The tall leader climbed down from the wagon and walked around and around it. She neither ate nor drank, and her dust-caked face was as set and expressionless as if it had been made of iron.

Half an hour later the leader lined up her women, and the squeal and grind of the wagon wheels began again. This time it kept on all day. By the time the sun was low in the sky, all the women looked like dusty ghosts as they plodded along, putting one aching foot painfully in front of the other. Their eyes were sullen as they stared at their leader, riding almost in comfort beside the wagon driver. But Blade could see the leader's face better than the others. Something was twisting it from within, something even beyond fatigue. Blade did not like being in the power of such a driven woman.

Before the sun dropped completely below the horizon, the wagon turned aside into a flat, hard field rimmed by a line of squat, bushy trees. There was not a breath of wind to move a leaf on the trees or a blade of the long brown-green grass. With the sweat drying on his body, Blade watched the women pitch heavy leather tents and dig fire pits.

Beside Blade, Nugun also watched the women bustling about. The Senar had regained consciousness just before noon. But he had said nothing, either to Blade or to the women. Blade hoped Nugun was simply pretending to submit, following his master's apparent lead.

After making camp, the women turned to Blade and Nugun. They dragged the Senar out, cut the ropes at his wrists and ankles, and spread-eagled him between four posts driven into the ground. Blade watched the spectacle with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Were they going to abuse Nugun and eat him, the way they had dealt with his comrades in the forest?

Apparently not. After staking Nugun out, most of the women wandered off toward the trees. Some of them pulled off their tunics as they walked, and their bare breasts swayed gently, gleaming in the fading light. Two who remained by the cart drew their swords and motioned Blade to dismount. He unstretched cramped legs and let the women urge him toward a tent smaller than the others and well apart from them. The women led him up to the front of the tent and motioned for him to enter. Then they cut the cords binding his hands.

When he did so, he was not surprised to find the patrol leader inside, sitting cross-legged on a cushion in the back of the tent. A candle in a metal holder cast a pale yellow light on her taut face. It creased in a brief smile as she saw Blade enter. The smile widened as she saw Blade's eyes roaming the tent, looking for any sign of weapons within her reach-or his. She drew a knife from under the cushion and placed it on one well-rounded thigh. «I have this. But you are strong and quick, and no doubt could overpower me in spite of it. However, you seem to care for that filthy beast out there. Are you one of those men from the legends, who could love only other men?»

Blade managed to keep his face straight. «No. He is my sworn follower, who has come into danger out of his loyalty to me.»

«An odd attitude for one of the beast-men to show, I must say.»

«Perhaps you find it odd because there is no loyalty in the city?»

The woman's smile faded for a moment. «Do not try to play word games with me, warrior. I am Idrana, huntress and warrior of the city, Sworn Sister of the Greens. If I give the word, or if any harm comes to me-that 'follower' of yours dies as the Senar usually do at our hands. Is that clear?»

Blade nodded.

«Good. Now we can talk and perhaps make sense. I-«Idrana broke off as footsteps sounded outside. The flap behind Blade opened, and two of the women pushed a dripping leather skin of water into the tent. They showed signs of wanting to linger, but Idrana fixed them with a poisonous glare and they backed out hastily. Blade could not help thinking that Idrana was remarkably careless of the good will of her patrol. Blade had known armies in which an officer would wind up with a sword through his ribs for less than he had seen Idrana do today. As Idrana started pulling her tunic over her head, he said so.

Idrana finished pulling off the tunic and sat there bare to the waist for a moment, staring at Blade. Then she laughed and reached for the waterskin. «It is nothing for me to worry about. They are all Sisters of the Greens with me now, and they know they will be well rewarded.»

Idrana seemed in a conversational mood, so Blade decided to venture another question. «Rewarded? How?»

Idrana lifted the waterskin and poured some water from it over her shoulders and breasts. It ran down, making streaks in the dust on her tanned skin. A drop formed at the end of each solid, dark nipple, then fell off as her breasts moved.

«Soon the Greens will find a way to choose the new Mistress of Fertility. When they have done that, I will be chief warrior of those guarding the House. It is a highly honorable post for a fighting woman of the city, one that women have killed for in the past.»

«And I suppose they are planning to kill for it in the future?»

Idrana's hands were now scrubbing the grime from her face and neck. She stiffened for a moment. Then her tight smile was back. «So you do know what is going on in the city. I wonder how.» Idrana shook her head to get the water out of her ears and unbuckled the belt of her trousers, shoving them down her long legs. Blade found it getting harder by the minute to keep his eyes on Idrana's face.

When she was completely nude she shrugged, giving her breasts an interesting motion. Then she said, «I don't suppose you really know all the details. And if you don't know any of the secrets of the Greens, you couldn't have done any damage.»

Blade decided that it was time to say something. If he went on sitting there like a log, Idrana might get the wrong idea. «I barely knew who the Greens were before you told me, Idrana.»

«Indeed?» she said. She was pouring water down between her thighs now. The droplets sparkled and gleamed on the mass of brown-black curls between her legs. «Well, you know now. And you will know more about them in time. But first-you will know more about me, and I about you.» She poured the rest of the water down her legs and stood up, nude and gleaming. «You are a most unusual specimen of man, warrior. But I cannot go on calling you-warrior. Have you a name?»

«Blade.»

«Then come here, Blade, that we can learn more about each other.» She crooked a finger at him in a gesture that might have been coy with another woman. With Idrana, it was as commanding as a drill sergeant's bellowed order.

Blade stood up. He could not have pretended not to be aroused if he had wanted to. Idrana's slow stripping, uncaring or unaware of what it was doing to him, had given him a good start. He stepped toward her, and she met him halfway. A long, muscular, warm body flowed up against him, and her lips rose up to his, warm and wet and seeming to suck resistance out of him.

He stood still, as sure, powerful hands went down to his belt, unbuckled it, unlaced his trousers, and slipped in under their waistband. Under the trousers he was wearing only a breechcloth. A quick ripping of cloth, and the dance of warm fingers on his stiffening maleness began. Meanwhile the warm lips left his and began to work down, nuzzling his chin and throat.

When her lips fell on the filthy homespun of Blade's tunic, Idrana stopped for a moment. She practically tore it off his back. When he was as nude as she was, she started in again with fingers and lips and warm flesh pressing against him. They all worked very well, and as they did, Idrana was obviously arousing herself along with Blade. Not as fast-he was almost painfully aroused before her breathing quickened. But just as surely. In time her breasts were heaving, just as his chest was, and her nipples were standing as stiff and erect as he was.

It was then that she took him by the shoulders and pushed him down. With another woman Blade would have resisted for a moment, making a game of it. But Idrana did not play games-this was obvious. Blade let himself bend back until he could lower himself to the ground. Then his hands went around behind Idrana, ran quickly and lightly down the long, straight back, and clasped the firm buttocks as hard as possible. He was damned if he was going to give this woman complete control! His grip tightened. Idrana gasped-and then Blade pulled Idrana down onto him.

Her face contorted in the moment of penetration, but not in pain. She was already wet and getting wetter as Blade thrust up into her and began rocking his hips back and forth. Perhaps Idrana's plans had been to set the pace herself. But Blade had snatched the initiative back for himself. He held her too tight and moved too strongly for her to do anything about it. Before she could fight back, her will began to dissolve under the impact of Blade's thrusting. Her head went back; her mouth sagged open in an idiotic gape. Sometimes her eyes closed tight, as Blade rose up high and deep. At other times they opened wide and stared unbelievingly down at him. It was something beyond Idrana's experience and perhaps beyond her belief-a man taking the initiative, slowly and deliberately melting her down into an erotic mass.

Blade was aware of sweat rolling from his own body. He was even more aware of how close he was to the limits of his own endurance. But he went on and on until he felt that the woman above him was tightened like a bowstring ready for release. Her back was arched, and her hands were clutching his shoulders so tightly that her nails dug into his flesh.

Then the bowstring was released, and Idrana's back arched still further, until Blade wondered if her spine were going to snap. She bounced up and down and twisted from side to side like a puppet on strings, whimpering and sobbing and gulping air. Then she slumped forward until her nipples brushed his chest. The sudden shift of position put an end to Blade's endurance. Now it was his turn to heave and twist and groan as he burst upward into her.

Eventually the mindless erotic fog faded away for both of them. Idrana rolled off Blade and sprawled limply beside him. By what was obviously a heroic effort of will, she managed to be the first to get to her feet and call for food and more water.

After a meal of bread and cheese and dried meat washed down with water, Idrana gave Blade the explanation she had promised. Most of it Blade could have guessed from what she had already said. The Greens and the Blues were the factions in the city competing to choose the next Mistress of the House of Fertility. Matters had become so tense that the Greens were planning open violence.

«And no doubt the Blues also,» said Idrana. «But we will be striking first. Three weeks from now, there will be the Great Games in the arena. No woman who can be there will be elsewhere, and that includes the leaders of the Blues.»

Blade nodded. «And then the Sworn Sisters of the Greens will-act?»

«Yes. With their leaders-gone-the Blues will not dare submit a candidate for mistress. Ours will win easily, and then I will be appointed warrior of the House of Fertility, to guard it and its secrets.» She paused, with what could only be called a smug grin on her face.

Then she lowered her voice and said, «I will be in a good position to reward those who help me. And I may rise higher yet. First Warrior of the city, perhaps. Then no one can say a word against what I do. I could even keep-a man.»

Blade nodded. «And you want me to be that man?»

Idrana smiled. «Of course. The women are not bad, and the Senar are good for variety. But a real man-like something out of legend-I will be the most envied woman in the city.»

And the most hated, thought Blade. But that was better left unsaid. For a moment he was silent. Obviously there was nothing in this offer that he needed to take seriously. Idrana was about as trustworthy as a cobra. And even if she was sincere, she was trying to enlist him in the faction fighting in the city. The faction fighting that could do nothing for the city except lay it open to Rilgon's army.

But for the moment, Idrana might be offering a milder captivity, one affording more opportunity to contact the «sisters» in the city, more chance to escape and a chance to protect Nugun.

Blade made his decision. «All right. You interest me. And you will have power in the city. But I will only aid you on one condition. Release the Senar Nugun to me. Or better yet, set him free entirely.»

If Blade had thrust a white-hot iron into her, Idrana could not have started more violently. Her face went pale, then contorted into an ugly mask. «Blade, are you joking?»

«No-why should I be?»

«Set free-one of those-animals? Treat it like-something human? Never! The Senar will die in the arena as part of the games, and that is all there is to it.»

Blade's temper flared. «Animals, are they? Then you women of the city have strange tastes in sex. I saw what you did with those Senar in the forest-animal-lover!»

In the next moment Blade knew that his temper had definitely taken him too far. Idrana screamed like a wounded animal and snatched her knife from the corner of the tent. She raised it in one trembling hand and held it over Blade's groin, lowering it slowly. Blade lay still, not moving a muscle. If she stayed blinded by rage, when her knife hand came within reach of a quick grab-

But Idrana's scream had alerted the women outside. The tent flap flew open, and Blade found himself staring at the shimmering metal of three drawn swords. No matter what he did, at least one of them would drive into his neck before he could move. So he went on lying still, not an easy thing with the knife still dropping lower and lower, the point now aimed directly at his groin.

But Idrana's rage passed before the steel drove into Blade's flesh. The knife flashed in the candlelight as she threw it across the tent and leaped to her feet, still naked and quivering all over with rage.

«Take him out and spread-eagle him!» she snarled. «If he loves that Senar so much, he can spend the night the same way. And he can die the same way in the arena, and think about what he missed! Oh, Mother Kina!» Idrana spat hard in Blade's face, then turned away and slumped to the ground, her shoulders heaving.

As the women dragged him to his feet and out of the tent, Blade could not help wondering if he had done the wisest thing. But-face it-the only alternative would have been abandoning Nugun to death in the arena. That he could not have done. Now they would be in the arena together-and where one alone might die, two together might contrive to live.