With first dawn he awoke. He sniffed the gray air and found it familiar, softer, fragrant, lacking the brisk sting of Hitt air. He scratched his beard, sleepy and puffy-eyed, and pondered. Could it be possible? He had been in the air such a little time-but the wind had been stiff when he took off and had increased as he gained altitude. It was, he conceded, just possible.
Blade came cautiously out of his cave and crawled on his hands and knees down to a rock formation overlooking the beach. There he lay hidden until the sun came up. The warmth was glorious and he reveled in it, turning on his back and letting the rays lave his face. He was nearly asleep again when he heard the muffled clopping of horses on sand and the jingle of armor and weapons. A patrol. Blade scuttled back into his rocks like a lizard.
He peered down at the beach. There were a dozen horsemen led by a sublieutenant. Zirnians. Blade gazed beyond them, out over the water to where land, looking like nothing more than a cloud bank, showed on the far horizon. His sense of terrain had always been acute and now he remembered the maps he and Ogier had studied by the hour. He had done it. He had crossed the channel and had landed but a few miles from where the sunken pontoon had been built. That was Hitt country over there. He was back in Zir.
Blade gave a halloo and began to run toward the beach. The troop of horse reined about in surprise and swords were drawn and spears loosed in their scabbards. Blade stopped and raised a hand, then another, his fingers spread and palms revealed. The sublieutenant spurred toward him with a pennon-bearer at his side.
Blade's luck was holding. The young officer recognized him at once. He saluted and doffed his helmet.
«Prince Blade! We thought you slain or a prisoner of the Hitts.»
Blade grinned hugely. «Prisoner, yes. Corpse, no. Unless I am a ghost. And if I am, I am the hungriest ghost you are ever likely to see. Take me to food at once. What is this patrol and where are you quartered?»
«We have a camp two hours' ride inland, sire. I will take you there. The Captain Ogier will be glad to hear of you.»
The troop reached a defile and turned inland. Blade made a brief inspection of the men and did not like what he saw. Their uniforms were tattered, their weapons dirty and the armor rusty and dented. He noted that some were near to sleeping in the saddle.
He stared hard at the young officer. «These men look worn out, spent. They should be in rest quarters. And why are there so few of you?»
«Captain Ogier cannot spare more for beach patrol, sire. He has few enough men as it is.»
«How is that?» Blade knew that the Zirnian losses had been heavy, but Ogier still had a sizable army when he retreated back across the channel.
The sublieutenant was looking at him in surprise. Blade scowled. «Talk, man! I know nothing. I have been a prisoner of the Hitts, mind you, and they told me only what they wished me to know. What of matters in Zir?»
«They go badly, sire. There is a near state of civil war-though it still smoulders and has not broken into open fighting yet.»
Blade knew then, but still asked the question. «Casta? The black priests?»
«Aye, sire. The black priests. Casta and his whore, the Princess Hirga, live in the palace-city and work day and night to undermine the army. The Captain Ogier and Casta had a meeting, and the rumors are that angry words were spoken and swords nearly drawn. In the end Casta had his way-the black crows are dispersed all through the army to aid discipline and preach loyalty to Casta. They have been given weapons and armor and-authority and no soldier is free to speak what is in his mind-lest he run afoul of Casta. Many of the men have deserted.»
Blade forgot his hunger. Anger filled his belly. «And Ogier stands for this?»
The officer did not meet Blade's eye. He glanced back at his raggle-taggle men and said, «For the time, sire. Captain Ogier bides his time. He camps now on the Plain of Pyramids with half an army. All who would follow him. He confers daily with Casta and they meet halfway between the palace-city and the Plain, for neither trusts the other. You have returned at a bad time, Prince Blade.»
Blade smiled faintly. «On the contrary, lad. Maybe it is a good time. We want no civil war in Zir. Perhaps I can stop it.»
«How sire?»
Blade could not answer. He had not the slightest idea at the moment. But something would come to him. It always did.
Chapter 14
«I had thought you dead before now,» said the Captain Ogier. «But you stand alive before me and so I do not know my Hitts so well, after all.»
They were in Ogier's tent on the Plain of Pyramids. Blade, new clothed and armored, anointed and shorn and clipped, and with his belly full, sipped at wine as he told his story. He did not tell the Captain everything.
When he had done, Ogier clawed at his stubble and nodded and regarded Blade. He was the same Ogier, round as a barrel and taciturn as ever, though now he dressed in grander fashion and, so Blade had heard, called himself General.
Blade went straight to that point now. «You and I must have an understanding, Ogier. You have taken command of the army and you have done well. I would leave it so.»
Ogier looked surprised. «But you are son and heir of the Izmir, may his soul repose.»
Blade shook his head. «I forego that from now on-though for the moment it were best kept to ourselves. But we must work together in harmony, and I would have you understand you will be General and in command. I have tasks to complete, and when I have done them I will leave Zir. What you call yourself then is of no matter to me. King, Emperor, Izmir-what you will. I think you are a good man at heart, Ogier, and that Zir will prosper under you.»
Ogier smiled and looked pleased. It was, Blade thought, like seeing a block of granite smile.
«I will be as honest as you,» said Ogier. «I would take no pleasure in giving up the power I have come to since we thought you dead. But in the way you put it-and you have always kept your word-I see no cause for quarrel.»
They clasped hands and Ogier poured more wine. He tipped his cup and let a little of the wine spill on the ground. «For Thane. He was a good man. I am glad you slew Galligantus.»
Blade spilt his own libation and they drank. Ogier retired to his camp desk and Blade to a chair. «And now,» said Blade, «let us get to it. Tell me of the black crow, the big one.»
At that moment, as though summoned by Blade's words, a black priest came into the tent. Without formality or permission he strode arrogantly to Ogier and spoke in a harsh voice. Blade, caught up in the figure of speech, thought it more a croaking caw than ordinary speech.
«Casta, the High Priest, comes this night to the Plain. The Princess Hirga will accompany him. Casta will be in his quarters in the monolith of the Izmir and he bids you attend him there when the moon rises.»
Ogier opened his mouth. Before he could speak the priest held up a hand and turned to stare at Blade. Blade stared back. The priest was hooded, his face cloaked but for the burning dark eyes that examined Blade and missed nothing. The priest turned back to Ogier. «You are to come alone.» He stalked out.
Ogier cursed for a full minute. Blade listened and grinned. He had been a soldier himself in Dimension H. He waited until Ogier ran out of breath. Then he said, «I begin to see your plight. I was told, but now I have seen. They are arrogant, these crows.»
Ogier nodded glumly. «And full of guile. And powerful and numerous. I have sought to fight guile with guile, to avoid an open break, but I think I am not the man for it. I had best fight Casta before he seduces more of my troops, whilst I still have at least half an army.»