Krog had considered at length the problem of what was to be done with the hundred-odd Green Tower slaves who had fled from their masters during the battle. Four days after the battle he announced that all Green Tower slaves who had come to the Blue Eyes of their own free will would become free men and women of the people. The men would be trained as fighters. The women would learn the arts and skills of free women. War Master Blade was, to have special charge of the exslaves to see that their instruction was proper and their treatment good.
Blade admired the humanity of Krog's decision. But he felt that the Blue Eye leader had not thought through his decision well enough before announcing it. Most of the slaves were broken in body and spirit by years of brutality from their former masters. It would be many more years before they could learn either the skills or the pride of freemen. So it would be a long time before they would add to the Blue Eyes' depleted strength. The Blue Eyes' fighters and free women, who had dreamed of the pleasure and labor that could be wrung from this horde of new slaves, were disappointed. Disappointed and angry. Blade did not expect that it would be an easy job to keep the ex-slaves from being mistreated. Nor did he expect to be a popular figure for doing so. A week after Krog had led the People of the Blue Eye to the greatest victory in all their history, there was greater and more bitter muttering against his leadership than there had been in the past five years.
Blade liked even less the fact that Halda was at the heart of much of this muttering. And at the heart of her reasons was her distrust of him. She saw him elevated to the position of protector of a hundred new members of the gang. For her that was seeing him elevated in power and influence to her own level, or even above it. If he won the loyalty of that hundred, he would be an invincible rival for Krog's successor if battle or disease should carry her father off. Blade knew that Halda was quite right. But he had no intention of slacking off in the job which Krog had given him. Now he not only had responsibilities to Narlena but responsibilities to the hundred poor wretches who had fled to the Blue Eyes for safety.
Those new responsibilities brought him an immense amount of new work. More often than not he returned to his chamber at night too exhausted to do anything but drop down beside Halda and fall directly to sleep. Whether she resented this or not, he was not sure. He suspected she did, but between fatigue and his growing revulsion for her, he could not have done anything else.
Along with the extra work came something far more welcome-extra freedom of movement. Before the battle Krog had been just sufficiently uncertain of Blade's loyalty to assign him a pair of guards. Now these were removed. The Blue Eyes were too short of fighting men to spare any watch-dogging for a man who had proved his loyalty to the gang as completely as even the suspicious Krog could expect. Blade was no longer half a leader, half a prisoner. He was Krog's trusted right hand, and he could give orders with Krog's voice and do what he pleased.
Among the things Blade decided to do with his newfound freedom was to see Narlena. Nevertheless, such an undertaking needed careful planning. There was no longer Krog's distrust to worry about. But there was certainly Halda's. Eventually the day came when Narlena was out on a slave working party a few streets west of the courtyard. It was Krog's idea to start cleaning up some of the nearby buildings and enclose them with a wall.
As Blade passed by, sword swinging at his hip, Narlena moaned and began staggering about and holding her stomach. The two fighters guarding the slaves moved toward her with expressions on their faces that Blade didn't like at all. He strode forward and raised his hand and voice together.
«Hold! That is the slave Narlena, is it not?»
The guards nodded.
«She is of particular value to Halda. The lady would not be pleased if anything happened to her. I will take her back to the tower myself.» He reached out his hand and Narlena lurched toward and up against him. Half-carrying her as she staggered along, he retreated out of sight around the corner of the nearest building.
Once Blade was sure that the guards were out of both sight and earshot, he nodded to Narlena. She straightened as much as her gaunt and weary body would allow and looked into Blade's face as if she could not believe it was real. One hand, small to begin with and now thin and grimed from many weeks of heavy labor, came up and stroked his cheek. He let his hand rest lightly on her hair, cut close now and caked with filth and sweat, and said, «You are doing well, Narlena.» The lightness was in his voice, not his heart. He wasn't sure that she wouldn't break down if he showed too much sympathy. And they had too much to talk about in the short time he could spend taking her back to the courtyard.
She bit her lip for a moment to stop its trembling and then replied with an equally forced lightness, «Not as well as you are, Blade.» Then her face froze as cold and hard as a glacier. «I want to stay alive so that I can kill Halda someday» The flare in her eyes was savage.
Blade nodded. An incredible change had come over this Dreamer girl during her captivity to make her say such a thing. She was no longer weak or interested in keeping life at a distance. She was no longer a Dreamer, at least not a Dreamer of the kind that had fled to their vaults a century before.
«Good,» he said. «But first you are going to have to escape and warn Yekran and Erlik of Krog's plans. Do you know the way back to your vault from here?»
«Yes. But I cannot escape now. If I escape when you are taking me back to the tower, Halda and even Krog will suspect you and kill you. They-«
«They will not kill me. I am too important to Krog's plans. And he-«
«He can do nothing if Halda chooses to strike silently and by surprise. She keeps silence before you because you can understand her and be warned by what she might say. But the slaves are only animals to her. She says things about you in front of them, dreadful things. Not in front of me, but the other slaves talk and I hear them.»
Again Blade nodded, but reluctantly. The idea of passing up a perfect chance for Narlena's escape simply to avoid risk to himself was revolting. But how great was the risk? He remembered that «accidental» spear during the battle and had to admit that Narlena might be right.
«All right,» he said finally. «But you must remember that I cannot get away until you do. Halda will have you tortured to death otherwise. You must escape as soon as you possibly can. I will have one of the new people bring you extra food and water, so that you will get some of your strength back.»
«Yes,» she said in a small voice. «Do that. But be careful. Please.» And she put her arms around him. He held her for a minute. Then he told her to act sick again. Once more staggering as though she could barely stand in spite of Blade's support, they made their way down the streets to the gate and the courtyard. The gate guards waved them in without stopping, for they recognized Blade. But as they crossed the courtyard Blade looked up and saw Halda's face appear in a window on the third floor. Even from a distance it was easy to detect the suspicion and hostility that spread across her face. Blade knew that he had now offered the challenge to Halda. It was now a race between Narlena's escaping and Halda's taking up that challenge.