Джеффри Лорд: Champions Of The Gods

A moment later Blade wasn't quite sure who was going to be slaughtering whom. Dahrad's sword whistled down at him. He had to jump back to avoid being split down the middle before he could even draw his own sword. Blade drew the sword with one hand and his second pistol with the other. He parried another whistling slash as he raised the pistol. This wasn't the time or place for meeting Dahrad Bin Saffar chivalrously or gallantly, sword against sword. This was the time and place for killing him.

Dahrad saw Blade's raised pistol and shifted his next slash. It missed Blade entirely but smashed across the pistol's barrel with a tremendous clang. Blade's arm flew up as his finger closed on the trigger. The pistol went off with a crash, but the bullet whistled off harmlessly into the darkness. Blade dropped the pistol and went to work with his sword.

Blade was taller than the chief of the Raufi and had a longer reach. But Dahrad Bin Saffar was just as good a fighter and he was wielding a longer and heavier sword.

After the first few slashes and parries Blade knew that he had a first-class opponent on his hands.

Around him Raufi, Jade Masters, and the soldiers of Kano under Mirdon's command were engaged in a wild, swirling, totally chaotic fight, without plan or pattern. Blade heard muskets and pistols going off in ones and twos and ragged volleys, the raspings and clangs of swords on armor, men shouting and screaming. He hadn't heard the sound of the Eighth Gate going up, and that could be either good or bad news. It was good that the Raufi hadn't taken the towers and opened the gate. It was bad that Mirdon hadn't beaten back the Raufi enough to open the gate himself and let the enemy's riders into the trap prepared for them.

Dahrad's sword whistled over Blade's head close enough to scrape his helmet. Blade got home a thrust of his own, but it didn't push through the coat of fine mail Dahrad wore under his robe. It wouldn't matter whether the gate opened or not if Dahrad Bin Saffar cut him in two first! Blade settled down to concentrate grimly on the opponent at hand.

The duel went on as the two men stamped around and around each other, slashing and thrusting, sparks flying as their swords met and sweat pouring off both of them. Blade kept looking for something to give him an edge. He couldn't spend all night fighting with the Raufi chief! But every time he thought he'd found an opening, Dahrad was blocking him or fading out of reach. Fortunately, Blade was able to do the same.

The duel went on, and Blade began to wonder if it would go on all night, whether he could afford this or not. Dahrad Bin Saffar was striking harder and faster now. It seemed that being able to hold on so well against Blade was filling him with more confidence, more aggressiveness. His sword smashed down against Blade's until each impact jarred Blade from head to foot and made his sword vibrate like an iron rod hammered on by a blacksmith.

Dahrad launched an overhead slash, the strongest attack yet. Blade's sword leaped up to block it. Dahrad's sword smashed down against Blade's, hard up against the crossbar of the hilt. With a sharp metallic crannnng, Blade's sword broke off at the hilt.

Dahrad's furious slash sent his heavy sword whistling on down until its edge sank deep into the ground. Blade dropped his useless sword hilt and closed in. His booted foot came down on Dahrad's sword faster than the man could raise it. For a moment the sword was immobilized Blade pivoted and kicked out hard with his other foot. Dahrad Bin Saffar sprang back, just in time to keep Blade's foot from smashing his jaw to a ruin. As he sprang back, he let go of his sword.

Blade swung down out of his pivot and snatched the fallen sword from the ground. He swung it three times about his head, so fast that it hissed and whistled. Then he charged in at Dahrad Bin Saffar. The Rauf stood as if he had one foot caught in a trap. He seemed paralyzed by the spectacle of his own sword coming at him in the hands of an enemy.

Blade swung the sword three more times. Dahrad Bin Saffar drew a dagger, but the first swing of Blade's sword knocked the dagger out of the man's hand and sent it flying. The second swing chopped deeply into his thigh, and his lips curled back from his white teeth in a defiant snarl. The third swing slashed clear through Dahrad's neck, and his head flew ten feet and rolled along the ground. The spouting body collapsed backward as Blade dashed to retrieve the head before any of Dahrad's tribesmen could rescue it. When he picked it up by the beard, the snarl was still frozen there on the lifeless face.

As Blade stood there, holding Dahrad Bin Saffar's head, he heard the rumble and squeal of the gate opening. He whirled as someone shouted his name and saw Mirdon running toward him.

«Champion! Champion! We have the edge on them, and I have ordered the gate opened. We must get back into the tower, or-«He broke off and stopped abruptly as Blade held out his grisly trophy.

«Gods above!» exploded Mirdon. «Him!» He shook his head in a daze. «A second miracle has come indeed! You-you killed him?»

Blade nodded. «I also killed Jormin, after he killed Katerina.»

«Ka-«began Mirdon, even more dazed and bewildered. Blade didn't wait for the Commander to organize his thoughts. He tossed Dahrad's bleeding head to Mirdon, saw him catch it, then turned and ran toward where Katerina's body lay. He knew the kind of battle that would be sweeping through this area in a few minutes. He didn't want to leave Katerina's body lying in the middle of that battle, where it would be trampled and mangled.

As he reached Katerina, the roar of Raufi drums and the blare of their trumpets sounded outside the walls. The two thousand mounted men were on their way toward the open gate. Blade lifted the body in his arms and ran back the way he'd come, toward the door of the stairs in the western tower of the Eighth Gate. As he started to run, he heard the rumble of wheels and the pounding of hooves from the direction of the Garden of Stam. The mobile reserve was moving into position. The trap for the oncoming riders was being set, and in a few minutes more it would be sprung.

Blade ran as he'd seldom run in his life, leaping over fallen weapons, skirting fallen bodies. Most of the fallen lay still. Some were still writhing feebly. He couldn't stop for any of them, friend or foe. He could only plunge forward, arms locked tightly around Katerina, holding her body as tightly as he'd ever held the live, warm, loving woman.

He plunged forward until the door gaped dark before him. Two of the soldiers were still on guard with muskets held ready. They let him through, then dashed in after him, slamming and barring the ironbound door behind them. Just as the door cut off the outside world, Blade heard the swelling rumble of the Raufi as they began moving in toward the wall.

Blade ran up the winding stairs of the tower even faster than he'd run across the level ground. His chest was heaving as he burst out into the open air on top of the tower. He laid Katerina gently on the stones, then turned to the nearest soldier.

«Do you have-«

A volley of shots sounded from outside the walls, rising above the swelling sound of the approaching riders. Bullets whistled overhead and spattered on the stones. Soldiers all around Blade threw themselves flat on their stomachs. Only Blade continued to stand, looking out over the desert as the Raufi charged in toward the wall.

They fired more shots as they came in, without shooting at anyone or anything in particular. They seemed to be shooting for the fun of it, out of high spirits, as they rode in toward the open gate that marked the way into Kano and certain victory.

Well outside the walls the Raufi slowed down. Drums roared again and trumpets called out as the two thousand riders sorted themselves into a column narrow enough to pass through the gate. Then they were on the move again, at a trot, a canter, a gallop. They pounded up to the wall, vanished into the gate, and emerged on the other side in the Gardens of Stam. Blade rushed to the inner side of the tower. All around him the soldiers sprang to their feet and followed him, desperately reloading their muskets and pistols, winding up their crossbows, shouting and cheering. They shouldn't be making so much noise, Blade thought. But the Raufi were making so much more noise that ten times as many soldiers couldn't have made themselves heard.