For a long moment the Pethcine's headless body stood confronting Blade. The short sword was still raised to strike. A jet of blood leaped two feet into the air as the body still stood like a grotesque statue. At last the sword fell, the knees buckled, and the squat and dying body crashed down in a writhing heap.
Blade put the point of the huge sword in the sand and leaned on it. Only gradually did he become aware of the dead silence in the arena; the air was as devoid of life as the still quivering trunk of Gutar. It was an instant before Blade really understood it. He had not been thinking. He had been fighting for his life. Then he understood: he had touched the Sacred Sword! Worse. He had used it, defiled it, to Mil the champion of all the Pethcines. Now, surely, they would tear him limb from limb.
And there was nothing he could do. He wiped blood and sweat from his face, still leaning on the sword, and waited. He was bone weary.
Totha leaned and spoke to her father, Org. Org glanced quickly at Honcho and raised a finger. Honcho approached the throne and there was much whispering. Blade waited, breathing easier now, his heart still thudding.
King Org, Totha, and Honcho were approaching him. The silence in the arena persisted, as if no one even dared to breathe.
They were close now. Then Honcho and Totha halted and King Org came on alone. He fell to his knees before Blade. He reached to touch the bloody sword, ran his finger along the steel, and marked his forehead with the blood.
Org's voice filled the arena: "Mazda! HE WHO COMES TO THEY! Mazda! Who has come to us, to the Pethcines instead, to lead us back into Tharn and to our heritage. Mazda! Lord Mazda! We welcome you. We accept you. We obey you. Give me, Lord Mazda, a sign of your love."
So that only Blade could hear, Org said: "Touch me on the shoulder with the sword. Then Totha will come. Do the same with her. Then go with her, follow her, quickly! Take the sword with you."
Blade nodded. He was, then, going to get out of this alive. He raised the great sword and touched Org on the shoulder with the bloody point.
Then Totha came forward. Honcho remained where he was. The neuter's face was impassive, his eyes nearly closed, and he did not look happy.
Totha knelt before Blade. She touched the sword and smeared blood on her forehead as her father had done. Her voice was light, clear and melodious, carrying far as she spoke.
"Accept my love also, Lord Mazda. And give me yours."
Blade touched her bare shoulder with the sword. Gutar's blood had not yet thickened and some of it ran down her collar bone and trickled like a red worm between her bare breasts.
Totha stood up and extended her hand. "Come with me," she said softly. "Do not speak. Bring the sword with you."
She led Blade across the arena, over the crimsoned sand, her hand firm and strong in his. He could feel her trembling and knew that she was terribly excited.
Blade could feel the thousands of Pethcine eyes on him as they walked behind the throne and approached a narrow passage. Two guards stepped aside and fell to their knees at a sharp command from the girl. They bowed their heads and did not look at Blade.
The passage was narrow, twisting and turning, and lit by flaring torches in sconces. As they rounded the first turning Blade could hear Org speaking to the crowd again, then the sudden crashing roar of what sounded like acceptance and approval.
Totha led him into a small chamber cut in the stone. A single torch glowed smokily against the wall. In one corner was a pallet of skins. A water jar, its sides glistening with moisture, hung from a peg. Blade took his hand from Totha's and stepped toward the water jar. She tugged at him fiercely.
"I am thirsty," said Blade. "And I would wash and bathe my wound. Have you something to bind it with?"
Totha held him fast She fell on her knees before him and pressed her mouth to the wound on his thigh.
"I will bind it with my lips."
Blade leaned on the sword and stared down at her. Some of her excitement transferred itself to him. A faint tremor began in his legs as her mouth caressed him. He put a big hand on her glistening head and she made a soft moaning sound.
Her scarlet stained mouth gaped up at him, the perfect little bones of her teeth glinting through the blood. When she spoke her voice was trembling, yet oddly firm and commanding. "We are alone. When we are alone you are not Mazda, but you are still my Lord. Only do not misunderstand. I rule. You do not. I command. You obey. I desire. You give.
"I thank you for slaying my brother, Gutar. I had grown very weary of him. When I have become weary of you I will have you slain also, but that time is far to come. Obey me, Lord, and submit with all your great body to my desires. None will come. None dares intrude on Totha in this place."
As she began her phallic worship Blade's hands closed around the jeweled hilt of the great sword. He closed his eyes and let his body surrender, but his brain was clear and active.
He had come far into the labyrinth, still had far to go, and he could see no glimmer of light ahead. Yet it must be there.
Chapter Seven
Blade remained in the Gorge for two days. He could reckon time here - there were days and nights and even a glimpse of red sun occasionally, though mostly the weather was wild and wet. He and Totha, when she would let him off the couch of love, rode great shaggy horses and Blade explored as far as he was permitted. It was a feral, craggy country, full of cruel ravines and slashing black mountains and rock formations like demons. It reminded Blade of plates he had seen of Dora's Hell.
And always there was the great sheer wall of the Gorge rising up and up and out of sight into the clouds.
Blade, when he was not making love to Totha, who was insatiable and knew techniques that even he had not encountered before, found an occasional moment to think of his other, civilized life, and to wonder how soon Lord Leighton would snatch him back through the computer. He did not worry about it. He knew that J, like a faithful watchdog over Blade's safety, would not let Lord Leighton keep him out too long. Here, too, a fact must be faced: Lord Leighton, as a scientist, was sometimes overzealous and tended to forget his humanity. Especially with so much at stake, perhaps England's very existence.
And there were times when Blade was quite prepared to be snatched back to London and the Tower before he had completed his mission of exploration. Totha was literally loving him to death!
Totha was straddling him now back in the cave chamber and grunting like the little animal she was. Blade was still able to replenish her physically, he was amazingly strong and enduring in that department, but the excitement was long since gone. Even the greatest of pleasures can pall. He was careful not to show it. He knew that Totha, in her way, was far more dangerous than Org and Honcho combined.
Totha rested for a moment, leaning far over him and crushing her breasts against his big chest. Her sharp little teeth gnawed at his beard which was sprouting magnificently. She liked to talk in this position, with his flesh in her, talk to the accompaniment of her moist slithery little movements. She could go on and on for hours.
Usually Totha spoke her mind loudly and imperiously. Now she whispered. "When we have taken Tharn and killed Honcho, there is another thing I want you to do for me."
Blade did not open his eyes. "Yes, Totha?"
Totha bounced for a moment. Then: "You must kill Org for me. For us. There will not be room for three on the throne of Tharn."
Blade opened one eye. He was bored with his sexual thralldom and he did not choose his words as carefully as usual.
"Three, Totha? Two? You mean one, don't you? You! Only you, Totha. But there is one little thing that puzzles me: who are you going to get to kill me?"
At that moment she began to have one of her innumerable convulsions. She sat erect, grimacing down at him, teeth bared and eyes rolling wildly. "I do not know, but I will find a way!"