Man, he thought a little wryly, was the word. He had made a mistake in taking Edyrn for a mere callow stripling. A mistake of which Edyrn had taken full advantage. Blade had spoken of Nob, more to pass the time than anything else, and to make the miserable wet camps more bearable. It had seemed natural enough at the time, Blade thought now, but he was still a fool. Prattling on about his narrow escape in Thyme, about his adventures, with Edyrn soaking in every word and reporting it to Juna later.
It only required confirmation and a moment later Blade had it. Nob- said that a young officer resembling Edyrn had indeed interviewed him soon after his arrest.
«Aye,» mumbled Nob, searching his memory. «A short and bandy legged young cock he were, with blue eyes and yellow hair. Had an honest look to him, though that means nothing.»
«How was he dressed? How did he act? Think, 'man! Was he in command? Did he show authority or was he only a courier?»
«Oh, aye, he was in command right enough.» Nob waggled his long jaw. «Had a file of soldiers to his back. Ummnim-that's queer, now that I recall-«
«What was queer, man? Stop your maundering and tell me clearly what happened.»
Blade had no doubt that it was Edym being described. An Edyrn not so young and guileless as he had posed. An officer in the army of Patmos. And Juna's man all the way-or was he?
«The soldiers!» Nob smote a great fist into his palm. «That was different-they looked like real soldiers, clad in old leather and iron, and they carried weapons like they knew what they were for. How could that have slipped my mind? They were real soldiers, not like these nambies we've to do with, or I would not have gone along so easily.,
Blade thought that over for a moment. «They brought you straight here? To the prison?»
«Aye. And in silence, too. It was forbidden to speak.»
«And they mentioned nothing of me? This young officer-he is a man called Edyrn-he said nothing to you of me? No hint that I would come and join you in this prison?»
Nob shook his head. «None, 'master. I was treated well enough, but they told me nothing.»
Blade kept after him. «How was this Edyrn dressed? What rank did he display?» Nob was like a sponge. The information was there but you had to squeeze him to get it.
Nob put a finger to his hairy nostrils. «Aye-that is something else comes back to me. This younker officer were dressed in battle armor, like I said, and wore rank of a captain in the Pearl's own guard. I am sure, now, though I have seen it but once before. On his shoulders he wore the insigne of the black Pearl of Patmos. Of Izmia herself. She who lives in the volcano.»
They were passing a last bench before the entrance to the building. Blade sat down abruptly. It was coming too fast. He held up a hand to silence Nob.
There was no great mystery as to how Edyrn had come to Patmos so much before Blade-he had left earlier and he must have made the trip many times before, he would have known the currents and winds and the most direct route. The men he commanded might have been waiting for him. He had carried out Juna's orders and had Blade met and taken to prison-no great mystery to that, either-but before that he had encountered Nob-a chance meeting? — and at that time he had been in the uniform of a guardsman of the Pearl. Just who did Edym serveJuna or the Pearl of Patmos? Or both? And what possible purpose could Edyrn serve in throwing Blade and Nob together? And on whose orders?
Blade shrugged and gave it up for the moment. He looked at Nob and smiled. «Let us get back to the room and sleep a time. I have a feeling that we will need it. And I have another feeling-something is going to happen.»
Nob rubbed his belly. «Will it have to do with food, master?»
«I know not. Just as I do not know if it will be for good or ill, but there is something afoot. Come, Nob. Before we fall asleep I wish to know all I can about this old woman who is called Pearl of Patmos. She who lives in a volcano? Is she black, then?»
They saw no one as they returned to their room. The music, still sweet and insidious, filled the room with languorous chords. Nob jerked his head at the music box and grimaced. «It never stops, sire. How can we outwit it?»
Blade motioned to a corner. «I will sing. You whisper in my ear. Tell me of this old lady who is said to live in a volcano, this old woman who Juna claims as grandmother.»
Blade began to sing. For some reason he could remember only a tune from Balfe, a thing his first nanny had often played on the piano and as often had sung to young Blade to lull him to sleep. He had not even thought of the song for years, now he sang it very badly and off key: «1 dreamt 1 dwelt in marble halls. .»
Nob was staring at him as though he were sure Blade had gone daft. Blade scowled and jammed an elbow into his ribs. Surely his. singing was not that bad! And it did not matter-he had no intention of giving a concert, he wished to hear about this strange old lady of the volcano. This Pearl of Patmos-black Pearl? — in whom resided the real power on this island, and was Blade's best chance of survival.
Nob still stared, his jaw agape. Blade nudged him again and whispered, «Speak, man! What of this Izmia?»
Nob's coarse whisper came like the croaking of a giant frog. «I know not how you came by this information, master, but you have surely been talking to a liar or a fool. Izmia, the Pearl, may be a grandmother-I have no cause to doubt that-but if so she is such a grandmother as I would wed in my dreams. For the truth is, sire, that Izmia has no agel Others have age, not the Pearl. She remains young when others wither and die. As for colorshe is called black because, I wot, she is not exactly white. Nor brown nor yellow nor green. Her flesh, so they say,
for I have never seen her with this eye, is the color of flame. They say her skin changes color like a strange lizard that sailors tell of, though I have never believed that tale.
«But there is a black pearl, or so the legend goes, and it is as big as a cabbage and lies at the bottom of the volcano pool. Lies there with the sword of Patmos, the very sword of he who founded this island in the dawn of time. All this is, you understand, only a story, master. A myth and a legend to be told to fools and children. Men of the world like ourselves, sire, will not believe in such drool. Please, master, could you leave off singing now? I cannot stand it on an empty belly.»
Blade glared at him, but broke off to whisper. «But this Ifzmia, this woman called the Pearl of Patmos-the black Pearl as you say-she does really exist? I must know for certain, Nob. For if she does exist, and has power as she must, we are going to make our way to her as soon as we can.
Blade began to caterwaul again. «1 dreamt 1 dwelt in.. «
Nob winced and whispered hastily. «Aye-she exists sure enough. In all her beauty and her years she exists. But she is a recluse, master, and never leaves her volcano. Her guard slay all who try to disturb her privacy. I swear by Juna's golden ass, sire, that there is no way in which a mere man may come to look on Izmia. Unless-«
Fury exploded in the corridor outside their room. There was much shouting and a rush of feet and the clang of steel on steel. Men cursed and men screamed.
Blade left off singing and stared at the closed door. The skirmish in the hall was continuing and coming closer. He heard a familiar voice cry out a command: «That is enough of killing. Take the others prisoner lock them in a room until we are gone. Now hurry that door yonder.»
Blade looked at Nob, whose mouth was still open. «Unless what, Nob?»
Nob gulped. «Unless, master, Izmia sends for us.»
Blade stroked his jaw and eyed his man. «I think, Nob; that it has come to pass. We will know in a moment.»
The door was flung open. Edyrn, wearing battle dress and, sure enough, the black pearl on his shoulders, looked in at them. His sword was bloody. He bowed formally to Blade.