On the third morning the five galleys entered a broad river mouth where some thirty black-hulled galleys were already anchored. On the shore rose a roughly built log house, with the flag of the Seven Brothers-seven gold rays on a green field-floating above it.
Beyond the house in one direction were the rough lean-tos and huts of the mainland tribesmen. In the other direction was a sprawling mass of tents, tethered horses, and cooking fires sending up spirals of smoke. The Steppemen had indeed come in force. Prince Durouman counted the pirate galleys and frowned.
«Is that all they have left after the battle against Sukar's squadron? If they are so weak, can they be of any use to us? If-«
«I doubt that is all their strength,» said Blade. This was the first time he'd interrupted Prince Durouman, and he realized this might give offense. Yet the prince's constant worrying out loud was beginning to get on Blade's nerves. The prince was brave and daring and intelligent, but he also seemed exceedingly high-strung. Perhaps too high-strung to make an effective leader.
Blade counted the tents and horses in the camp of the Steppemen. That led to another unpleasant thought. The Steppemen had come with at least three thousand men, perhaps four thousand. That was not just an embassy. That was an army-an army that could start a war or launch an invasion on a moment's notice.
Blade did not in the least like having so many armed warriors of a people he was about to turn into enemies so close at hand. The more he thought about it, the less he liked it. He also realized that there was nothing he could do about it, except perhaps not mention it to Prince Durouman. The man was already nervous enough.
Those aboard Kukon had time to eat breakfast before anything happened. Then a flat-bottomed barge came out from shore toward the galley. In the stern sat the same man in the red tunic who had spoken to them three days ago. He now wore a leather cuirass and a high-crested steel helmet and carried a short, curved sword. The other men in the boat were also armed and armored.
«They don't seem to trust us,» said Prince Durouman. «Or perhaps it's the Steppemen they don't trust. With three thousand of them two miles away, I wouldn't sleep easily more than a foot from my sword.»
So Prince Durouman had made his own count of the Steppemen-yet did not seem so worried that he was unable to make a light-hearted remark about it. That was good. The better the prince kept his head, the better would be the impression he made on the Seven Brothers.
The barge bumped alongside. The man scrambled forward from the stern and sprang lightly up Kukon's side onto the foc'sle. Blade, Prince Durouman, and Dzhai met him there, all dressed in their best clothes, weapons, and armor.
«Greetings,» said the man. «I am Emass, Speaker for the Seven Brothers.»
«Greetings, Emass,» said Blade. He introduced the other two men. Wine was brought, and all four men solemnly drank a cup and ate bread and salt fish.
«It is our wish to bring our message before the Seven Brothers,» said Blade when they'd finished. «Is it the wish of the Seven Brothers to hear us?»
«It is,» said Emass. «It is also their wish that I bring you before them now.»
Blade and Prince Durouman exchanged looks, then both nodded in unison. Blade turned to Dzhai. «Captain Dzhai, Kukon is in your charge. Let nothing happen that is unworthy of all she has done before.» There was no harm in reminding the pirates that this galley and these same men had fought furiously against them before and could do so again if necessary. It might help the pirates keep their tempers enough to remember their honor and the truce.
Dzhai nodded and raised his good arm in a salute. «It shall be done, Prince Blade.»
Blade and Durouman turned and followed Emass down into the barge.
After it was all over, Blade was never quite able to sort out the details of the negotiations with the Seven Brothers. The negotiations lasted three days. After the first few hours, everything became a blur in Blade's mind, and he retained only a few clear impressions.
There were the four Steppemen, observers who sat in on all the negotiations, the first Blade had ever seen in the flesh. They were short, squarely built men, with skinny legs spectacularly bowed from a lifetime on horseback. They wore leather vests and trousers; their main weapons were long, curved, two-handed swords worn slung across the back. Their dark hair was braided into two pigtails and they wore beards trimmed into points and stiffened with strong-smelling grease.
The seven Brothers of Nongai, along with Emass, sat at a long table of waxed driftwood pegged and tied together. All wore faded tunics, most wore fur jackets over the tunics in spite of the warmth of the room, and all were armed to the teeth. No two of them wore their hair or beards in the same style, but all had one other thing in common. All were in deadly fear of the attack Emperor Kul-Nam was preparing to launch against them.
They concealed it well, of course. The Steppemen did not appear to notice it, but Blade and Prince Durouman were more experienced observers, with keener eyes. They knew that they were negotiating with men desperate for aid against a dreaded enemy, and not much caring from where it came as long as it came.
They were also negotiating with men who tended to think more in terms of ships at sea than of horsemen on land. That was an advantage. The Seven Brothers would more readily accept an alliance that offered them a fleet than one that offered them an army. Now all that remained was to convince the Seven Brothers that Prince Durouman would indeed bring a fleet to their aid.
That was the hardest part of the whole job of negotiating. Once more Blade felt like a door-to-door salesman. The customers were even more stubborn, and this time the sales talk went on for days instead of hours.
The Steppemen listened intently, their dark eyes switching from Blade to the Seven Brothers and back again. They seldom spoke, and when they did, it was usually through an interpreter. When they spoke themselves, their accents were so thick that neither Blade nor the prince nor the Seven Brothers could understand more than about half of what they said.
Eventually the Seven Brothers and Emass declared that they had heard all they needed to hear from both sides. They would go forth, speak to all the Free Brothers, and return with their decision.
It was two days before that decision was announced. Blade and Prince Durouman were too busy catching up on lost sleep and missed meals to have time to be nervous during those days. But they were still surprised at the decision of the Seven Brothers.
«We have decided,» Emass said solemnly, «that we shall make no decision at this time. That which we have heard and seen is not enough for us to decide with the wisdom that is needed for the safety of the Free Brothers.»
Emass looked at Prince Durouman. «Lord Prince. Have you in your company a warrior of great strength and skill, fit to serve as your champion?»
Prince Durouman hesitated a second, then nodded. «I have. He is Prince Blade, who stands here before you.»
«Good.» Emass asked the same question of the Steppemen's envoys. Their champion was not among the four envoys, but they could produce one-or even a dozen-if necessary.
«It will be necessary,» said Emass drily. «We have decided that a champion of Prince Durouman and a champion of the Steppemen shall do battle to the death. They shall do battle tomorrow, on horseback, before all those present here. That side whose champion gains the battle shall be permitted to enter into alliance with us, according to our laws and customs. This is our decision. Go forth and prepare for battle.»
If Blade had indulged in his first impulse, he would have drawn his sword and started hacking off the heads of the Seven Brothers, one by one, until he was killed. That impulse did not last long. But rage and incomprehension were still bubbling inside him when he and Prince Durouman returned to Kukon.