«Fact is, I've won a good bit of money for old Thickhead, with bets and all. Hasn't given me a penny, but it's all there in his strongbox, I'm sure. I'm getting kind of a reputation, so the betting's falling off. But if there was another slave aboard, a real good fighter, he and I could put on shows. No betting, but Gazes could rake in some money letting people watch. It doesn't take much to tempt that greedy bastard.»
«I see. He'll naturally have to unchain me and have us work out a few times to see what I'm like. One of those times-«Blade shrugged «-we move.»
Gursun nodded. «Right. With luck, he'll have us do one or two rounds when we're well out to sea. That means we'll not be having any patrol ships butting in. We can slip the bodies over the side real quiet, and then away we go.»
Away you go, Blade thought. I won't be going with you, unless you're going back toward Iscaros and Amadora. If you try to keep me from going where I want, you're likely to go over the side yourself.
But that was something to worry about when and if the time came. For the moment, Gursun was a fairly good ally, and would have been so even if he hadn't also been the only one!
Gursun took Blade's silence for agreement, and vanished again. Blade spent some time testing the strength of his chains, discovering that he wasn't going to break free without help. Then he went back to sleep. He had always been able to sleep more or less at will. It was a handy gift when he could never be sure if he might need his full strength.
Gursun woke him up by putting another pot of water and a half-loaf of coarse black bread on the deck beside him. Then the Nessiri bent over and whispered in Blade's ear.
«We've got a problem, my friend.»
«How so?»
«Thickhead says he's got orders to turn you over to some officer on the island of Skadros. He's not supposed to let you out of the chains until then.» Gursun stood up and looked down at Blade for a moment. «I'm beginning to wonder if you might be somebody important. There's a certain general who's missing, they say. Used to be an Arena slave and then a Guardian. But he did something for the Boy Emperor and got promoted. Know anything about that?»
Blade shrugged. «Even if I did, why should I tell you? It won't make any difference why I'm here if I can't get out of these chains and fight. If I can, we can worry about other things later.»
«You're talking sense,» said Gursun. «But we've got a problem if Thickhead won't let you out. Skadros is only seven days away, so we've got to move fast. We may get only one chance.»
Blade considered this. «Suppose you say I've insulted you in all sorts of unforgivable ways. You'd like to take me up on deck and pound some manners into me in front of the whole crew and the other slaves. You think I'm too damned proud, and all the rest. Of course, you'll be happy to wait until we're too far out to sea for me to swim ashore, but-«
Gursun choked back a laugh. «It might work. Thickhead doesn't like slaves with a mind of their own. He thinks I'm the kind of 'good' slave who agrees with him.» Gursun spat into the bilge at the idea. «I'll give Thickhead the idea, and see what he thinks. Meanwhile I'll see about getting you regular food and water.» He frowned. «You realize we're only likely to get one chance? You won't be having a chance to look the ship over beforehand.»
«I know. But do you have a better idea?»
Gursun shook his head and vanished again.
Blade counted the days by Gursun's visits with bread and water. By the end of the fourth day he was beginning to get worried. Green Gull must be more than halfway to Skadros by now. Once there, the odds against his escaping would be much longer.
But on the morning of the fifth day, Gursun at last set Blade's mind to rest. «I've talked the old bastard around. You'll be brought up late this afternoon by some of the sailors.»
«Should I jump them right off?»
Gursun shook his head. «Wait until we're together and can guard each other's backs. I'll give the signal. It's a piece of luck that we'll be doing it late in the afternoon. By the time we're finished it'll be getting dark. We can give any nosy bastards the slip in the night.»
Blade relaxed as well as he could as the hours passed. Under him he could feel that Green Gull was rolling more than usual. Was the weather topside turning against them?
Blade wasn't worried about having to fight on a heaving ship's deck. He had done it before. But if the weather got too bad, Gazes would be having second thoughts about the fight.
So he was pleasantly surprised when three armed sailors came down into the hold. One stood back by the ladder with a loaded crossbow aimed at Blade. The other two silently unlocked his chains.
One of them drew a sword and prodded Blade to his feet. «Up on deck, you loudmouthed pig. Gursun's going to teach you some manners while we watch.» Blade replied with a glare and a surly growl. «None of that, now!» snapped the sailor, jabbing the sword-point in deep enough to draw blood. Blade unfolded himself and strode toward the ladder, glowering at the sailors as he went.
On deck he was not surprised to see that the wind had risen and the sky turned gray. Green Gull was slogging her way across an ocean flecked with whitecaps. Spray was coming in over the bow, and the deck amidships was already slick and wet.
Twelve of the sailors and all of the slaves were already on deck. Blade mentally noted their positions. Good. Three of the sailors were manning the helm, which would keep them out of action until it was too late. Captain Gazes himself was standing within easy range of where Blade and Gursun were going to be fighting.
Gursun stepped forward, his face twisted up in a dramatic glare as he looked at Blade. He stepped up to Blade, spat on the deck at his feet, then slapped him twice, hard enough to sting. Blade fixed his eyes on Gursun and spat in his turn.
«Your mother slept with dogs and swine,» he growled, loud enough to be heard above the wind and sea.
«Can you fight with anything except your mouth, you son of a poxed bitch?»
Blade danced back from Gursun, then pivoted and aimed a blow at the Nessir's shoulder. The other man spun in turn, catching the blow on his upper arm and riding with it. He continued the turn and came out of it into a kick aimed at Blade's groin. It was Blade's turn to swing aside, catching the oncoming foot on his hip.
They'd agreed to fight just long enough to warm up properly. That took less than five minutes. By that time both Blade and Gursun had a few bruises, but neither felt at all tired or slowed down. Looking around, they saw that everyone was too busy wondering what would happen next to be thinking of anything else.
They would never have a better chance. Their eyes met, and they moved toward each other, grappled, and swung each other around. They grunted and groaned and swore at each other like a couple of Home Dimension wrestlers hamming it up for the TV cameras.
Then Gursun squeezed Blade's arm, and pushed him away hard. Blade reeled backward, straight at Captain Gazes. Gazes cursed and leaped to one side. He was not fast enough to get out of Blade's range. As Blade passed, he chopped sideways and down with the edge of his right hand. He struck Gazes in the neck. The captain staggered, but he couldn't do anything else before Blade hooked his feet out from under him. Gazes crashed to the deck, and Blade stamped one foot down hard on his chest. Blood sprayed over the deck and Blade's legs as Gazes' ribs caved in.
Two sailors beyond the captain were the first to recover from their surprise. They charged Blade, swords drawn. Gursun dashed in, caught one sailor by his pigtail, jerked him within reach, and clamped both huge hands on the man's neck. Blade sidestepped the other sailor's rush, caught him by the waist and one arm, and wheeled around. The crossbow went spung, but the bolt sank into the chest of the sailor Blade was using as a shield. Blade dropped the body and snatched up the man's sword. He tossed it into the air, caught it by the point, estimated its balance, and threw it. Like a spear it whistled through the air, and like a spear it caught the crossbowman in the stomach. The man stood there for a moment, looking down in stunned and painful surprise at the sword buried up to its hilt in his stomach. Then he screamed, staggered back against the railing, and let go of the crossbow. It vanished over the side, and the splash was lost in the sounds of wind and sea.