Джеффри Лорд - Guardians Of The Coral Throne

It took a moment for the barbarians to notice the new addition to the skyline. When they did, they reacted as fast as Blade had expected, and more skillfully. They all snatched up weapons and shields and clapped helmets on their shaggy heads. Two ran to the horses and untethered them. One ran to the slave and tied his hands. Three snatched up bows and ran for the nearest cover, a patch of boulders around two stunted trees farther down the valley. They vanished behind the boulders. A man wearing greaves and a rusty breastplate stood by the campfire, shouting orders at the others.

Blade waited until he was sure everybody was looking at him and reasonably sure that none of the archers were simply going to shoot him down. Then he started down the hill, lowering his arms but keeping his hands spread out well in front of him.

As he came down the slope he had to watch carefully for places where he could be sure of his footing. If he had to scramble down on all fours, he would be a helpless target for the archers. If he tried too steep a piece on foot and tumbled down the hill, he would certainly destroy his dignity and possibly also break a few bones. The rocks on the way down looked just as hard as the ones he had met on the way up.

Eventually the last steep piece was above him and he strode forward down on to the valley floor. As he did so he was relieved to see the archers rise from cover and sling their bows at an order from the leader. Apparently the leader no longer thought Blade might have to be shot down on a second's notice. More important, he could give orders and get obedience from his men.

Blade approached the men with long swinging strides. By now they could see he was naked and unarmed. When he was twenty feet from the campfire the leader stepped forward, drew his sword, and held it out across his body.

«Stop there, man. Who are you?»

Blade decided to start with at least part of the truth and play it by ear from there.

«My name is Blade. Who are you?»

«You do not have to know that, man. But we must know what you are doing in the land of the Scadori.»

«I have traveled here from a far land.»

«Have you had an accident here in our mountains? They do not like stupid strangers, that is true.»

Blade had to guess at the proper answer to that question. «No, I have had no accident.»

The man snorted. «I think then you lie. A naked man cannot travel far in these mountains of ours. He would die quickly when the Watcher of the Day turns away from the land. I think perhaps you are of the Karani. Or will you try to tell me that you fell from the sky?»

Blade was half-tempted to agree with the second idea and try to persuade this leader that he was a messenger from whatever gods the Scadori worshipped. But he didn't know whether the Scadori listened reverently to such messengers or sacrificed them on the spot. He was quite sure he should not admit to being one of the Karani. The leader's tone of voice had made it quite clear, that they were mortal enemies of the Scadori.

«I am not of the Karani.»

The leader's eyes widened. His mouth also widened, exposing a large number of filthy teeth. He threw his head back until Blade thought the man's helmet would slip off, and roared with laughter. When he stopped laughing his eyes returned to Blade.

«You say I lie, then?» The harsh challenge in the voice was unmistakable. So was the smug triumph.

Blade swore mentally. Apparently he had said the wrong thing. Now this hairy clown was going to claim that he had been offended and entertain his followers by either butchering Blade or humiliating him hopelessly. Damn!

But there was no way back that wasn't a good deal more dangerous than going on. Barbarians like these people respected bravado, flaunted courage, and the skills of a warrior. Blade decided he would do his best to please them, and throw in a few surprises for good measure.

Blade threw back his own head and crossed his arms on his massive chest as he in turn roared with laughter. The leader's eyes widened again, this time in surprise. He obviously hadn't expected this.

«Yes, I say that you lie,» said Blade. «Not only do you lie, but a great deal of stinking breath comes out of that great flapping mouth of yours when you do. I do not like smelling your stink.» If he was going to have to fight this man, he might as well make him blind with rage first.

The other man's mouth opened again and stayed open. Then he closed it with a snap and said in a growling voice, «I had thought to kill you quickly. But now by the Watchers you will see your manhood burn in our fire before your eyes close.»

Blade grinned. «First see if you can kill me at all before you waste any more of the breath you may need for saying your prayers.»

The leader sputtered like a boiling pot for a moment, too furious to speak at all. Then he turned his back on Blade with a snarl, and motioned to one of his followers. Blade raised a hand.

«Hold! There is no need to give me any sort of weapon. I will face you as I am and kill you with only these.» He turned in a complete circle to remind everybody that he was naked and unarmed. He held out his massive hands in front of him as he did so.

That line stopped things dead. The leader spun around and stared at Blade as if he had just turned into a monster.

«You are mad.»

Blade shook his head. «I am not mad. Warriors in my homeland can fight with their bare hands, as well as their swords-or their mouths. What is your problem, my friend? Are you afraid to face a man who fights only with his hands just because you are too stupid to understand how this may be done?»

The leader let out another squall of rage. Blade saw barely concealed smiles on the faces of several of the other warriors. That made it almost certain that the leader would decide to fight on Blade's terms. Otherwise he would lose too much reputation in the eyes of his followers.

«Come, my friend. Say your prayers to the Watchers and anything else you want to pray to, and let us fight. I grow impatient. And what is your name, by the way? I would know the name of the man I am about to kill, so that my women may weave it into my war-song and my sons and bards sing it over my grave barrow when my time comes.»

The leader hesitated. Blade clapped his hands together angrily, as though summoning a slow waiter at a restaurant. «Come! You may fear that I will use your true name against you. But that is a foolish fear. What can I do to you after I have killed you?»

The leader grunted a reluctant assent. «You will not be singing anything about anybody after this fight because you will have no tongue to sing with. I will cut it out with a dull knife after you can no longer stop me.» His voice no longer had its self-confident ring. He sounded like a man trying to conceal from both his followers and himself that he was afraid. He was not afraid of Blade as a warrior, but as something unknown.

«My name is Urgo.»

«Very good, Urgo. Now-what keeps an armed man from striking down one who stands before him naked as a babe and armed only with his two hands?»

«Have you said your prayers, Blade?» asked Urgo.

«The warriors of my people say all our prayers before departing from our land on long and dangerous journeys among strangers. That way they do not have to wait when there is a fight at hand, and no one wonders if they are afraid to fight.» He stared hard at Urgo.

«Yes, Urgo,» said one of the archers, who had now joined the circle around the campfire. «Why not fight this man now? He is willing, and it is time.»

«Fight, Urgo, fight!» shouted several more, drawing their swords and waving them. «Fight him now, Urgo! He will fight you.»

Urgo turned and glared at his followers. The blazing fury in his glare should have burnt them all to cinders on the spot. Blade knew that he had divided Urgo from his followers. They were beginning to doubt his courage and even question it to his face. Urgo would fight his battle alone.