Blade had noted the priests on his way inland. At the coastal camp and at every camp on the way-always there were the priests with groups of soldiers around them to listen. The black priests talked and talked and talked.
«That is your problem. now,» he told Ogier. «Mine is why Casta did not invite me to this meeting. He must know that I have returned. In minutes now he will know that I have been closeted with you. The news will be signaled to the palace-city.»
«That is no great mystery, Blade. He will seek to talk to us alone, each apart, and make the best bargain he can with each. And to set us at each other's throats if he can.»
Blade smiled at the warrior. «That he will never do, my friend. But still I am puzzled-why does Casta come here, to the tomb of the Izmir where he is surrounded by your troops?»
Ogier poured wine. «We have a truce. I observe such vows and, until now, he had done so. He comes at least twice weekly to the monolith. I know not why, but it must be that there is something there he needs, must have or must do, something that can only be done there. I have not inquired nor will I. I do not wish to know, for I have heard stories that chill my blood and I am not a superstitious or unnatural man.»
Blade remembered that living skeleton seated behind the table and fondling a skull. The eyes like dark coals aflame. He thought of Hirga and her scorn and the foul smell, and the scales littered about her bed. There was something in all this that mystified and frightened him. That was Dimension-X thinking.
There was a natural, or an unnatural, explanation for everything. Logic of a particular context, a relative frame of reference, a way of doing and seeing and understanding that made sense within its own limitations. That was Home-Dimension thinking.
Blade made up his mind.
He went to Ogier and clapped him on the shoulder and gazed deep into his eyes. «Ogier, there are some things I would ask of you. The first is that you hear me out and make no objection until I have finished.»
Ogier nodded. «Ask then.»
«When does the moon rise tonight?»
The General fumbled through a pile of charts on his desk. «It is late tonight-a little past the night noon.»
«Good. Now, you have no objections if I kill a few priests?»
Ogier shook his head and did not speak.
«I thought not. And you have no objections if I kill Casta, the blackest crow of all?»
Ogier stared with wide eyes. «I do not object. I would like to do it myself. But how? You cannot come at him. He is too well guarded. And even an attempt on his life will begin the war I have been seeking to avert.»
Blade studied the tent wall for a moment. Had that bulge been there before? He moved closer to the bulge, signaling to Ogier for silence. Dusk had fallen and the night was purpling fast. Blade drew his dagger.
He spoke loudly. «I do but jest, Ogier. We would both like to kill Casta, but it would be wiser not to. We must deal with him. Make bargains. And keep our vows at least until he breaks his.»
Blade thrust his dagger hard into the bulge. There was a muted scream. The bulge slithered and collapsed and was gone. Blade raced out of the tent.
Nothing. Nothing but some blood on the tent wall and the ground. Blade cursed. Ogier, behind him with drawn sword, explained it.
«Some of the crows wear armor now under their robes. This one did. It turned your point enough.»
He turned to the soldier who had been standing sentry before the tent. «You saw nothing of a black priest slinking about?»
«Nothing sires. I have only just come on duty.» The man did not meet their eyes.
Ogier took his name and company and they went back into the tent.
«A month ago I would have had him flayed,» Ogier grumbled. «Now I take his name and will do nothing but transfer him to dirty jobs. He has been won over by the priests.»
Blade filled his wine glass. «I am right, Ogier. We must act, and with speed. I will kill Casta this night. You must make your plans accordingly.»
Ogier shook his head in wonderment. «Being a prisoner has affected your thinking, Blade. The man escaped. He had heard enough. Casta will be warned and ready for you.»
«I agree. But even so I must do it. There is a time for swift and direct action, Ogier, and this is such a time.»
«But how? I have just said it-Casta will be warned. You will walk into a trap.»
«That is part of it,» said Blade. «If I go alone-and I will-he will let me get so far before he closes the trap. I have seen a side of Casta that you have not, and I think that he does not really want to kill me yet. I have knowledge that Casta yearns after. He would have me prisoner, broken and weak, perhaps tortured, but he wants me alive and able to speak. He will let me into the tomb of the Izmir. It will pleasure him. So long as he thinks he has the upper hand and can take me any time he chooses.»
For a long time Ogier did not speak. Then: «I would not have you do this, Blade, but I cannot stop you. If you can kill him it will be a boon for Zir, though I think you had best kill the Princess Hirga also. And I will have to act in unison with you and pray for luck.»
Blade eyed him. «You advise against it. I listen and I discard that advice. I go. And you, no matter your misgivings, are with me?»
Ogier put his sword on the camp desk. He laid his hand on it at the hilt. «By this weapon I swear it. Come success or death. It is time. I have taken enough from that crow.»
«Then come to my tent for an hour, Ogier, and we will whisper. It is quieter there and less suspect. Pick us a guard of six men you can trust.»
«I think I can find that many,» the General said dryly. «The crows have not yet corrupted all of them.»
It was full dark when Ogier left Blade alone. Blade bade him take the guard with him. «I will not need them. From now on I act alone and involve no other man. See that you keep your promise to care for the woman, Valli.»
«I will keep it.»
«And care for her child, if she has one. I think she will.»
«That also, Blade. Things will change in Zir if I come to power. No more babes will be strangled.»
«Then farewell, Ogier. If I do not see you again, and I may not, I tell you true that you are a man and a soldier.»
«Goodbye, Blade.»
They clasped hands a last time and Ogier was gone. Blade retired to his pallet. The moon would be late tonight and he need not begin the venture for an hour or so.
He did not try to sleep. He sought to concentrate, to make the crystal work and establish contact with the computer, but it refused. He soon gave it up. Janina was in the way.
Blade closed his eyes and saw her again, glowing and gleaming, beckoning from the ledge. He became aware of a physical reaction. His groin was taut and hurting. In his mind she changed from diamond to flesh, warm and soft and inviting. Her breasts were full and firm, and she leaned to trail her pink nipples over his face.
«Blade! Come to me, Blade.»
The words came sibilant into the tent. Blade started up on his cot. Sweat beaded his face and crawled in his beard. She had spoken. Across all the miles and the water and again the miles she had spoken, had called to him.
Real or phantom? He no longer could be sure. Janina. He must go to her.
Project DX, the computer, Lord Leighton, the six previous forays into Dimension X, they had all conspired to work this schizophrenia, to tear his brain in half. The brain operation, the implanting of the crystal, had been the last straw. Blade knew now that he was a bit mad. Insane. Crazy. He laughed. He did not care. Reality was what you made it, what you said it was, what things meant to you.
He was like a madman who knows that he is mad and also knows that in madness there is a deal of sanity.