Джеффри Лорд - The Temples Of Ayocan

This wasn't the time, however. He wanted to wait until the boat was passing down an inhabited part of the river. Blade saw no point in escaping only to die in the jungle. He wanted to escape and find people who could help him on his way, far from this land and the priests and Holy Warriors of Ayocan Who Shall Not Be Displeased. To the devil with them! If he had the chance, he was going to displease mighty Ayocan as much as he could, and Pterin could try to square things with their man-bat god.

Blade waited until the next day before he started working on the bronze bars of his windows. He wanted to be sure that he was not being watched too closely. It did not take him long to realize that the warriors on guard aboard this ship were remarkably sloppy in the watch they kept. They brought his meals and his clean bedding regularly, and escorted the doctors in and out. But otherwise they paid no attention to him. It was as if he were shackled to the boat's timbers by an invisible and unbreakable chain they trusted to keep him aboard under any circumstances. Well, they would soon discover the price of that kind of carelessness.

The bronze was cold-worked and tough, but not tough enough to resist Blade's muscles and ingenuity. Before the evening meal arrived, Blade was able to work two of the bars loose at one end. One more, and he could bend out all three and make a gap large enough to slip even his massive body through. He had seen at least one large village and several isolated houses along the bank since breakfast. They were moving along a populated stretch of the river now. So why wait any longer? Wait until after dark, pull the third bar loose, and then swim for it. Blade carefully replaced the two loosened bars so that they looked normal, and settled down to wait for the evening meal.

It came, heavy and steaming hot as usual. He ate as lightly as he could without arousing the suspicions of the watching doctor. He did not want to have to swim and run on a stomach weighted down with the food provided by the cult of Ayocan. But this would be his last meal at the hands of the cult!

The priests took the plates away. Their eyes rested briefly on the mounds of uneaten food, but they said nothing. Alone again, Blade did a quick series of limbering-up exercises. Good. His body was in more than adequate shape for anything it might have to do during the escape. Then he turned toward the window, eyes on the third bar.

He had just taken a firm grip on it when a sudden outburst of noise from outside made him stop and turn around. He did so just in time. The cabin door flew open, and Pterin and two Holy Warriors tramped in.

«Ah, warrior,» said Pterin. «There is a matter in hand that I thought you might wish to see.»

«What sort of matter?»

«One of the sweep-slaves has rebelled. He struck a Holy Warrior in the service of mighty Ayocan and drew blood. For this he will be punished.»

«How?»

«We shall release him from service on this boat.»

How was releasing a slave from service a punishment? Blade managed not to stare in confusion at the priest. There was more in this than Pterin's mere words indicated.

«Why do you wish me to see it?»

«It might interest you.»

«Perhaps.»

«No, certainly.» The priest's face and voice hardened. «Now-do you wish to come out or not?» The two warriors put their hands on the hilts of their swords. The verbal fencing was over. This was an order.

Blade followed the priest out on deck. The two Holy Warriors fell in behind him. Blade took careful note of the distance between him and them. If they were even slightly too far away for a quick reaction, he might have a chance. A quick lunge for the railing, then over the side. He had noticed no bows aboard the boat, or anywhere else among the Holy Warriors of Ayocan. Once he was in the river, they could hardly touch him. It would not be as good as a completely secret escape from his cabin window, for the alarm would be up at once, but-

More noise burst up from below, shouts, thumpings, the rattle of chains. The forward hatch flew open, releasing a stench that made Blade gag. Two warriors scrambled up the ladder from the hold, dragging a filthy, gaunt figure. The sweep-slave was naked except for a breechclout, and so weak he could barely stand unaided. But his eyes glared into Pterin's eyes as the priest approached him.

«Slave,» said the priest, «you find service in this vessel of the servants of mighty Ayocan displeasing?»

«What d'ye think, ye damned pimp!»

«Indeed, I think you find it displeasing. Well, not all of us are made as to serve the god. And Ayocan will have none in his service who find that service a burden to them. He is not a tyrannous god. So I speak for him when I say-you are to be at once released from service on this vessel.»

The slave started and jumped as though he had received an electric shock. He stared at Pterin, his eyes wide with dawning hope. His bony and blistered hands began to shake, and tears streamed down his face, cutting small furrows in the coating of filth on it. «Ye'r speaking truth, priest? Truth?»

«The priests of mighty Ayocan do not lie, slave. It is displeasing to the god. And Ayocan shall not be displeased.» Pterin nodded to the two Holy Warriors standing on either side of the slave. «Release him from the service of the ship.»

The slave was just starting to say, «If ye could land me near-«when the warriors grabbed his arms. They lifted his wasted body completely clear of the deck in one motion, strode to the railing, and lifted him high above that.

Pterin stood watching, a thin smile on his lips. «For in truth I did not lie. Thus do I release you. Go, with the blessing of Ayocan!» The guards gave a tremendous heave, and the slave shot over the railing and into the river below.

His mouth opened as the, guards heaved, and a scream of stark raw terror came out as he soared into the air. It cut off in a gurgle and a splash as he struck the water. A moment later another scream split the evening, and then a third, as though the man was being burned alive. Ignoring the warriors behind him, Blade dashed to the railing and stared down into the river.

Not burned alive, but eaten alive. The dark water around the man was being churned white by the frantic dartings of dozens of tiny, savage fish. Then it was no longer white, but red with the slave's blood. The man let out another horrible scream, and threw a hand into the air-a hand eaten bare of flesh, with two fish still clinging to the white bones. Another scream, and then the man had nothing left to scream with, as the fish ate out his throat and then his internal organs. For one more moment his head stood out on the red surface of the water, then it sank out of sight.

Blade turned slowly away from the railing. His eyes met Pterin's. The other man smiled again, and there was a tinge of amusement in his voice as he spoke.

«You see, warrior, how thoroughly we release a man who is unwilling to serve mighty Ayocan. Such thoroughness is pleasing to Ayocan. And Ayocan shall be pleased.»

Blade's fists clenched and his jaw tightened. If that damned priest says that once more, he thought, I am going to pick him up and throw him after the slave, and be damned to any chances of escape. That sadistic little-!

The priest saw the fury in Blade's eyes and stepped back quickly. All four of the Holy Warriors on deck drew their swords and formed a circle around Blade. For a moment Blade and Pterin glared at each other. Then the priest's eyes dropped, and he jerked a hand toward the cabin door.

The door slammed shut behind Blade and he heard the lock on the bar snap into place. He sat down on the bed, realizing suddenly that he was shaking all over with rage. He sat quietly, taking slow, deep breaths until the shaking stopped, then unclenched his fists. Now his mind began working again.