Джеффри Лорд: Champions Of The Gods

The two rode straight in until Blade felt that he could practically reach out and touch the leading Rauf. He saw Mirdon drop the reins and reach down for the canvas bag that swung from his saddle. He saw Mirdon's arm whip out and over, hurling the bag out at the Raufi. He saw the Raufi scatter, spurring their camels frantically in all directions, some of them falling out of their saddles. Mirdon gave a great whooping roar of laughter at the spectacle the Raufi were making of themselves. Then a musket crashed out, and he reeled in the saddle as the bullet took him under his raised sword arm.

Mirdon's horse felt the rider's hand slacken on the reins, and it began to slow. Blade knew that in another moment it might panic and bolt, or hurl Mirdon helplessly to the ground. He frantically urged his own horse forward until he was riding alongside Mirdon. The Commander's face had gone as white as flour. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and pumped steadily from his wound.

Mirdon's arm drooped and his sword fell to the ground. Blade dropped his reins and guided his horse with his knees as he reached out for Mirdon. The Commander lurched and practically fell into Blade's outstretched arms. Blade gave one tremendous heave and Mirdon seemed to fly out of his saddle. He nearly flew right over Blade's horse and pulled Blade to the ground with him, but somehow Blade caught him. With the last of his strength Mirdon twisted himself into a sitting position in front of Blade. Then his head lolled back against Blade's shoulder, and his mouth opened in a gush of blood. Blade hauled his horse's head around toward the walls of Kano and dug in his spurs again.

The horse had less than half its strength left, and it was carrying nearly twice as much weight as before. Somehow Blade's spurs and curses pushed the horse along at a lumbering trot until they were out of range of the enemy. Then the horse slowed to a walk, and nothing Blade could do would push it along any faster. It didn't matter now, though. A squadron of cavalry and a couple of light guns came out from the Eighth Gate and escorted them in.

As they rode in through the gate, Blade heard the First Consecrated's trumpeters sound a long blast. So he was not surprised to see Tyan himself waiting just inside the gate. His sedan chair with its slave bearers stood behind him. Beside it stood two blue-draped litters. Blue, Blade recalled, was the color of mourning in Kano.

There were plenty of hands to lift Mirdon's body down off the horse. That was all anybody could do for him now. Without any orders, half a dozen soldiers carried the body over to one of the litters. Tyan himself bent over it, closed Mirdon's eyes, and drew one end of the draperies over his face.

The tension was draining out of Blade now. He saw a white-robed form stretched out on the other litter-Katerina. Slowly he walked over to stand beside Tyan. Their eyes met for a moment, in a wordless understanding that somehow said a great deal without saying anything Blade could grasp clearly. Blade noticed that there were tears in Tyan's eyes. Then, side by side, they followed the litters as the soldiers bore them off.

Whatever Tyan let himself feel at night, he was all business and grim determination by dawn.

«This may or may not be the end of the Raufi,» he told Blade over breakfast. «For all that Mirdon has done, that is still in the hands of the gods. But most certainly this shall mean the end of the Jade Masters. That is altogether in our hands, and our hands will be swift and just.»

Strong bands of soldiers and armed civilians scoured Kano all day, rounding up the families of every man known to be a Jade Master or one of their servants. The families were crammed roughly into the prison tower. Then Tyan called the Jade Masters, their chief craftsmen, their stewards, and the officers of their guards to the House of the Consecrated. Blade was there in full armor when Tyan delivered his message.

Tyan wasted no words. «The Jade Masters stand guilty of treason to Kano. By the laws of this city, by the laws of the gods, by common human wisdom you deserve to die. Yet many of you are fighters, which Kano needs. If you live and fight through the days ahead, you may yet be forgiven.

«I do not trust you, however, to fight merely in the hope of forgiveness. So I have taken your wives and children. I shall keep them until the fate of Kano is settled.

«If any among you prove treacherous again, your families will die. If the Raufi storm the city, your families will die. But if you go to the walls and help beat back the Raufi, your families will live, whether you do or not.»

Once more, Blade was glad that good luck and good management had made the First Consecrated Tyan of Kano his friend instead of his enemy. As an enemy, that old man could have been more dangerous than the Raufi, Jormin, Geddo, Stul, and the Gudki all put together. As a friend, Tyan had done everything Blade could have hoped for. Tyan hadn't saved Katerina, but that was simply wretchedly bad luck. Katerina had died the way she must have expected to die when she had entered her chosen profession-that is, violently, and before her time. She had not died before knowing the happiness of caring and being cared for, and that was something she probably hadn't expected.

In any case, Blade did not have much time to mourn Katerina. Two days later, the Raufi attacked the walls of Kano with all their strength.

It was not a battle that day, it was a massacre. The Raufi came against intact walls manned by soldiers inspired by the Champion of the Gods and determined to revenge the Champion's slain woman and Commander Mirdon. Aiding the soldiers were the fighters of the Jade Masters, more frightened for their families than for themselves, and many thousands of eager and determined civilians of all ages and both sexes. The Raufi were mad with rage at the death of their great war chief, but their rage didn't help them. As Mirdon had planned, it simply drove them on to an even worse defeat than they could have suffered otherwise.

Afterward Blade couldn't recall that he'd ever been in a great battle where he had so little to do. He and Tyan spent the day in the Gardens of Stam, encouraging the fighters and giving occasional orders. Blade only had his sword out of its scabbard once, when a handful of Raufi managed to get into the Gardens.

The battle went on all day, with no quarter given or asked for. By sunset there were no more Raufi attacks, because there were hardly any more Raufi. Dahrad Bin Saffar led close to fifty thousand warriors out of the desert against the city. Less than ten thousand rode away. It would be generations before the Raufi could again threaten Kano. It would probably be centuries before they would want to try.

In Tyan's private chambers everything was as silent as ever. Outside in the street, there was noisy rejoicing at the victory and equally noisy mourning for the dead. Not a sound crept through the massive walls of the House of the Consecrated. Nothing disturbed the First Consecrated and the Champion of the Gods as they sat across the table from each other. On the table between them lay the great jeweled staff of the First Consecrated.

When the last servant had vanished, Tyan raised his wine cup.

«To Kano.»

«To Kano,» replied Blade. He added as he drank, «A city with a future.»

«A future it owes to you,» said Tyan.

Blade shrugged. «Perhaps. Also much to Katerina and Mirdon.»

There was a long silence. Then Tyan spoke quietly. «Mirdon was my son, Champion. Against all the laws and customs that bind the Consecrated, I was the father of a son. So I think I can say that I feel with you in what you have lost.»

Blade nodded without speaking. He couldn't think of any response that needed putting into words. Tyan had explained much and offered sympathy. What more was necessary? He drank again, emptying his cup, then poured more wine from the silver jug.