«We've got to search the tents before they rally!» Daimarz shouted. Before Blade could stop him, he shifted his sword to his left hand and dashed into the nearest tent. Blade was following at a walk when he heard a strangled, «Oh, gods!» He ran the rest of the way, then stopped at the tent door.
Jollya stood against the tent pole, bound hand and foot to it, wide eyes staring down at the three bodies on the floor. One was a Jaghdi soldier, his face red pulp. The second was King Manro, lying in a pool of blood and filth with a sword between his ribs.
The third body was Queen Tressana. Her left leg was bent unnaturally, one side of her head was a spongy mess, and the blue eyes were blank and lifeless.
Blade started to back out hastily, in search of fresh air. Daimarz hurried forward and started slashing with his dagger at the ropes holding Jollya. As she slumped half-fainting onto him, a sudden commotion outside made Blade turn. Sikkurad, Keeper of the Animals, came tramping through the crowd, a dozen of his guards around him. All looked grim, all were armed to the teeth, even the Keeper. He was pale, sweating, and seemed afraid to look anyone in the face. He still held a short sword in a very steady right hand.
Blade looked from the Keeper to the men around the tent door, counted the Jaghdi, counted the Elstani, saw that everyone seemed to be waiting for someone else to take the lead. Then he looked at the bodies on the floor and back to the Keeper.
«Sikkurad, how would you like to be King of Jaghd?» At last Sikkurad's fingers lost their grip on the sword.
Chapter 24
Two days before, it had been very cold. Today the weather was hot and sticky, more like summer than autumn. In the southwest a wall of black clouds was building up, which promised at least thunderstorms and possibly hail or even tornadoes. Although autumn in Elstan was notorious for changeable weather, this was something beyond the normal. Men were saying that the gods themselves were confused by all the strange events since the Jaghdi marched into Elstan, and did not know what to do.
If the gods were still confused, Blade thought as he walked toward his rolgha, men were beginning to sort things out. It took some fast talking on the night of Tressana's death and for several days afterward, but Sikkurad had now been hailed as King of Jaghd by all the survivors of Jaghd's armies. This included not only the battered cavalry force, but also the infantry who'd sailed up the Adrim. They'd come in a few days before, after a march south from the river under Elstani guard. They would be going home through the forest of Binaark.
In return for letting the Jaghdi go home and recognizing Sikkurad as king, the Elstani were exacting a stiff price. They were taking three thousand amulets and the formula for the synthetic scent. They were also taking home a thousand rolghas, including three hundred mares of proven fertility, and as many draft animals. This would start rebuilding Elstan's slaughtered herds, and within a few years also produce an Elstani cavalry. Then it would hardly matter if Sikkurad was overthrown, or that the hang gliders were no longer a secret. Elstan and Jaghd would be able to meet in battle on equal terms if they met at all.
Blade rather hoped they wouldn't, although it was too soon to be completely optimistic. He also doubted that he'd be in this Dimension enough longer to know much more than he did now. He did know, however, that for every leader who swore eternal bitterness and bloody vengeance there was another who saw the war as the beginning of a new day for both peoples. Blade's vision of the union of Elstan and Jaghd wasn't popular, but it already had some friends. Haima was one in Elstan, Sikkurad was another in Jaghd.
As Blade mounted, Daimarz and Jollya walked up. They were only just restraining themselves from walking hand in hand, and Blade smiled down at them. What was growing between the amazon and the woodcutter was one of the reasons for Blade's optimism. Even though her father would soon be ruling Jaghd, Jollya still wanted to get out from under his thumb as much as possible. In Jaghd that meant getting married, and for Jollya no man except Blade or an Elstani would really do. Since Blade was already betrothed to Chaia, that meant an Elstani. The most eligible Elstani for the daughter of the new king was clearly Daimarz.
It might start out as a state marriage, of course. Blade suspected that it would warm up quickly enough in the bedroom.
If it did, Sikkurad's grandson and the heir to the throne of Jaghd would be half-Elstani. That would be a step toward uniting the two peoples which would be hard to reverse.
All around the herd of rolghas and draft animals, horns were beginning to sound as the herdsmen took their position. Most of them were on foot. Only a handful of Elstani had learned to ride in the last few weeks, and not many Jaghdi were being allowed to join the march. Even they wouldn't have been allowed without Blade and Daimarz arguing hard for it.
«We want to bring the herd home safe!» snapped the woodcutter. «Is it so shameful to admit that the Jaghdi can help us do that? Or are we still so afraid of them that a dozen Jaghdi herd riders make us wet our pants?» He spat on the ground for emphasis.
Jollya untied a pouch from her belt and handed it to Blade. «If you don't think they're unlucky, they should go home to Elstan.» Inside the pouch were the Queen's Jewels.
Blade shook his head. «I don't think they're unlucky. But don't you think you've got a better right to wear them than Chaia?»
In spite of herself, Jollya looked toward a solitary wagon draped in silver-gray, the Jaghdi color of mourning. Tressana and Manro lay in it, embalmed for the trip home. «I hope Tresana won't be forgotten completely,» she said quietly. «She did much good, even though she ended by doing evil. But for now, I think my wearing the Queen's Jewels would keep awake memories better left to sleep for a few years.»
Blade had to agree. He thought particularly of the memory of Tressana's gruesome death. He didn't like to think about it, even though he supposed it could be called a rough justice-Tressana killed by the husband whose mind she'd destroyed. He nodded, and dropped the jewels into his pack on top of the amulets, the dried meat, and the wire garrote. «I don't know how soon I'll be able to visit you in Jaghd. If I set a foot out of Elstan before I've got Chaia with child, Haima will probably not only find another husband for her daughter but geld me as well.»
Jollya looked very serious. «That would be a disaster.» Daimarz carefully looked everywhere but at Jollya.
«Come on, Lorma,» said Blade. The cat stood up, rubbed against Jollya one final time, then leaped into her riding position behind Blade. Blade pulled his rolgha around and trotted off toward the front of the herd. The last thing he saw as he looked back was Daimarz slipping his good arm around Jollya's waist. He was too short to reach her shoulders comfortably.
The thunderstorm broke an hour after the herd set out. Blade was certain by then that more Jaghdi riders would be needed to get the animals safely to Elstan. The rolgha stallions and the bulls were being particularly troublesome. If there'd been more of them the herd might already have been disintegrating. Blade hoped it wouldn't take a stampede to convince the Elstani they needed more help.
The first flash of lightning and thunderclap broke over the herd like an artillery shell. Blade heard bellowings, neighings, and furiously blown herdsman's horns. He put the spurs to his rolgha, cutting toward the front of the herd and shouting for the Jaghdi riders as he went. He'd have to get all of them in front of the herd and try to head off a possible stampede, while the Elstani kept clear. The men on foot couldn't possibly survive around the herd, while even the mounted ones couldn't be trusted to handle their frantic rolghas except under ideal conditions.