The dark eyes met his without flinching. «It would seem,» said the Wise One, «that we are men who think alike in certain things. Perhaps we can be friends after all, Blade. Or at least not enemies. Now suppose you tell me — what is it that you wish me to whisper into the old Jeddock's ear about you? And what document must be signed pertaining to you?»
Blade leaned closer to the bed.
«You read me well, Nizra, to a point. You will have a private audience with the Empress and you will tell her that, on this very night, you had a vision—»
The huge head rolled on its frail backbone and the mouth smiled in dry derision. «That will be no lie, Blade. I did. I am having a vision. A most grotesque and horrible vision — and visitant.»
Blade made an impatient motion. «Listen. Listen well. You will tell your Jeddock that in this vision I came to you, in my very person, as I now stand here, and proclaimed myself as the avatar come to save Jedd. As the savior of your people. There is such a promise, I think, in the Books of Birkbegn? Mention is made of someone who will arrive one day to lead the Jedds to a better way of life?» He leaned to stare hard at the man in the bed.
This time the little eyes avoided him, but not before Blade had seen the surprise and the beginnings of respect and even fear in them. Blade, of course, was only remembering what he had extracted from Ooma and Mok.
«You are most well informed about the Jedds, Blade.»
He nodded shortly. «I am. It would be well to remember that, Nizra. But answer my questions. Am I right?»
«Yes. To a point. There is some vague reference in the Books to the coining of a — of such a personage as you mention.»
Blade leaned back and crossed his thick legs. His thigh muscles ached and quivered and he began to realize how tired he was. He must sleep soon. When it was safe to do so.
He grinned at Nizra. «I see. You, my friend, are not a true believer in the Books?»
For the first time, the tiny mouth opened in a genuine laugh and he saw that Nizra was toothless. The shrunken gums snapped at Blade. «I have told you,» said Nizra sourly, «that I am not a fool. I see what is in your mind and I will do it. I foresee no difficulty there. I will do it because, if you keep your word to me, it will be to my advantage to do so. I will gain by it. When you return to your own world — if indeed you spoke the truth about that — I will have gained even more. I am a practical man, Blade, and not so much interested in methods as in results. We have a bargain, Blade.»
Blade smiled at him. «A good one for you, Nizra, as well as for me. If I am accepted as the avatar promised by the Books, and I am on your side, you will have a powerful ally against the captains who plot against you and who plan a palace revolution as soon as the old woman is dead. Not so?»
Once again respect glinted in the dark eyes. Respect and a degree of puzzlement.
The great head swayed in a nod. «I could almost think, Blade, that you are the avatar spoken of in the Books of Birkbegn.»
Blade laughed. «Do not begin our partnership with more lies than you must, Nizra. You do not believe a word of it.»
Nizra did not answer. He was getting out of bed. Blade retreated a few steps, sword ready, and watched. It was in its own way fascinating, this little scene within a scene, this mere act of watching Nizra disrobe and dress again. For the man was no more than a skeleton, a walking corpse whose bones showed clearly through the stringy, discolored flesh. Nizra was about five feet tall and Blade doubted that he weighed a hundred pounds. It was as though all the substance of the body had gone to the great head and the brain it encased.
Nizra wore a tent-like gown of a cloth that Blade thought of as tussah, a crude silk. This he took off before Blade without hesitation and with no shame. Then he donned a single undergarment of the same material. Over this he donned the same rich robe he had worn when Blade first saw him. Then the scarlet skullcap to partially hide the bald head. Lastly he took from beneath his pillow the chain of office.
«A moment,» said Blade bluntly. He took the chain from Nizra and examined it. It was very heavy, of iron polished to a high sheen, and formed of many small and exquisitely forged links. Blade dangled it in his hand, weighing it, watching Nizra closely. There was anxiety in the dark eyes and the spidery hands reached impatiently for the chain.
«It is nearly dawn,» said Nizra. «I must see the bodies of my guards, for if you are a liar I must know it now, and if you are not a liar they must be disposed of and a tale told.» Again he reached anxiously for the chain.
Blade handed it back to him. Inwardly he was content He had judged Nizra correctly. Power, and only absolute power, was all the meat and drink this man craved. Lord Leighton had been right. This Dimension X did, in many ways, closely parallel Home Dimension.
Nizra slipped the chain over his massive head and settled it into place. He looked at Blade with a speculative eye and with an openness that belied the cunning that Blade knew lurked in the man.
«I have been thinking,» said Nizra. «There is nothing of it written in the Books of Birkbegn, and I have read them well and know them by heart, but it would be as well if the Child Princess Mitgu had a husband. A certain special type of husband, naturally. Would you be averse, Blade, to marriage with a child of ten? Who, like most Jedd females at that age, is very nearly a woman?»
Blade was completely surprised and taken aback. Nothing like this had remotely entered his planning. He took refuge in brusqueness.
«You look too far into the future,» he said harshly. «There is no sense in discussing such matters now.»
The vast skull swayed toward him. «I agree, Blade. But think on it. Think well on it.»
The dark eyes glittered at Blade.
Chapter Fifteen
During the next few hours Blade saw much to admire in Nizra. The old man was competent and cool and his brain was fertile. And the Wise One commanded unquestioning obedience from his servants and soldiers. Blade was washed and trimmed and given undergarments and a robe as rich as those of Nizra himself. He was given another sword, a better-made one with a hilt adorned with raw, uncut jewels which Blade could have sworn were rubies and diamonds. When questioned about the gems, Nizra said, with indifference, that they came from mines in the surrounding mountains. They were gewgaws, of no real value and used only for show. Such was the Jedd thinking. Blade made a resolve to see those mines as soon as possible.
During the past few months, back in Home Dimension, he had undergone a rigorous and much-telescoped course in geology. Lord L had insisted on it, J had concurred, and Blade, who could do anything when he was interested and set his mind to it, was by now a good amateur geologist, something of a mining engineer. And besides being able to recognize most ores, he was somewhat qualified to judge oil-bearing terrain when and if he came upon it. Now, as he stood peering out a narrow window at the filthy, twisting streets of Jeddia and the mountains beyond, he thought that Project DX might at last begin to pay its way. To return some of the millions of pounds that had been invested in it. All it needed was for the hardworking boffins in Scotland to perfect the science of teleportation.
All that must wait. Survival, prestige, power and status were the important things at the moment. He could accomplish nothing without the latter three, and although survival was as important to Blade as to any man, it would mean little if he could not do his job. He wanted desperately, this time, to take good news back to Lord L and J — and the Prime Minister. News of tangible assets that could be exploited by England.