Blade wasn't able to do quite so well, but gradually the Maghri and even some of the rebels came to trust him to deliver messages. He also managed to acquire a bow and quiver of arrows for himself, and a battle ax for Khraishamo.
«It's not quite as good as the one you had aboard Blue Swallow,» he told the pirate. «But I'll see that you get one like it when the war's over.»
«Thank you, Blade,» said Khraishamo. «But it's I who should be giving you a gift of weapons. I owe you more than I can ever pay you in three lifetimes.»
«Then don't waste the only one you'll have trying to do the impossible,» said Blade. «I won't thank you, and Rhodina will never forgive you for neglecting her.» Khraishamo was laughing as Blade spurred his horse back toward the head of the column. He rode a Mythoran horse, but he'd fitted it with improvised stirrups. Some of the Mythorans were doing the same.
Day after day the army marched south, and day after day it grew. A tribe or a war band at a time, the Maghri came in. There were plenty of passes in the hills to the east, and the Goharans had garrisons in very few of them. At every estate, farm, or village, riders and wagons would come out, sometimes only a handful, sometimes a hundred or more. Blade began to suspect the rebels might actually gather the sixteen thousand men of their dreams. Certainly they already had at least twelve thousand.
At the end of the ninth day, Blade heard whispers that the army would turn toward the coast tomorrow. The plan was to reach the coast, then march on Mythor from the south. Many of the farms and estates there were rich, some were in the hands of Goharan sympathizers, and none of them had suffered heavily from the storm. There would be good foraging for both men and horses.
Blade hoped there wouldn't be any surprises along with the good foraging. The rebel army hadn't been attacked, but twelve thousand horsemen were hardly invisible. The Goharan general in Mythor was supposed to be a good man, who might have plans of his own. The rebels hadn't been scouting, and Blade couldn't help wondering if they were going to pay heavily for that mistake.
By nightfall, Blade had more personal matters on his mind. Gribbon sent him a message.
«Tomorrow at dawn, you meet Sigluf in a dueling circle. The fight will be to the death.»
Blade went to bed early that night and slept soundly. He'd fought too many duels in too many Dimensions against more formidable opponents than Sigluf to lose any sleep over this one. Nonetheless, he was awake before most of the camp, inspecting his horse, harness, and weapons. By the time other people were waking up, he'd eaten breakfast and was ready for a few last words with Khraishamo and Rhodina.
He gave them his bow and arrows, since Khraishamo had learned to use a bow for fishing on Shell-Island. He still preferred hand-to-hand weapons, and said so. «Also, I don't know if I can hit anything on dry land with this.»
«With luck, you won't have to,» said Blade. «But it will be good for hunting if you need to get away from here. There's always a chance my luck today will be bad. If it is, I don't know if you can trust Gribbon. Better wait until night, then slip off and head for the sea. The teamsters should help you, and you can hide along the coast until the war's over.»
«We'll be thinking about it, Blade, but-«
«You'll do it,» he said sharply, then smiled and kissed Rhodina. «Don't let this overmuscled lout get any ideas about avenging me on Sigluf, and don't get any yourself. If I'm dead, I'm dead, and the English will be out one Historian. You people don't have to escort me into the next world.»
Then he mounted and rode off toward the open ground where the duel would take place. He hoped he'd convinced them, but from the look on Khraishamo's face he doubted it. Those two gallant, magnificent idiots!
The place for the duel was a circle a hundred yards across, laid out on level ground at the foot of a low hill. Maghri with lances and Mythorans with swords stood around the circle, glowering at each other except when they turned to glower at Blade when he rode up. Blade hoped the duel wasn't going to cause bad blood between the two allies. He was willing to take risks for himself, but he didn't care to see the whole rebellion against Gohar collapse.
Regardless of what Emperor Harkrat and Empress Elyana might think, Blade was now heartily in favor of the rebellion's success. It had gone too far to turn back. Failure now would mean only a bloody massacre and an embittered people held down by brute force. That would play directly into Kloret's hands. A victorious rebellion in Mythor, on the other hand, might bring Kloret down. It would certainly put a good part of the people and the lands of this Dimension out of Kloret's reach.
Blade reached the dueling circle first, rode out into the middle of it, and dismounted to spare his horse. He'd taken the strongest horse he could get, not worrying about whether it was trained for fighting or not. If it would hold up under him, he would do all the necessary fighting.
Then Sigluf rode up with a terrific rattle of drums and blaring of war horns, along with a large escort. Gribbon was with him. Sigluf rode into the circle without dismounting, while Gribbon told everybody what they already knew.
The duel would be simple. Each man would have a thrusting lance, a throwing spear, and a shield. Sigluf had a sword, Blade a war club, and neither of them had any armor. They would fight until one of them was dead or could fight no longer, and the winner would have the right to kill a disabled loser. They could use whatever tactics they chose, but the first man to go outside the circle three times would be declared the loser.
Blade mounted and waited until it was obvious that Sigluf was going to let him make the first move. Blade spurred his horse toward his opponent and Sigluf swung his mount out of Blade's path, controlling it so that he could hold both lance and spear. Blade had his shield on his left arm and his right hand on the reins. He wanted to get Sigluf to use up as many of his weapons as possible before closing in to settle the fight.
Sigluf cooperated. The arm with the spear went up and back, then forward. The spear flew at Blade. Blade judged its flight, then threw his shield up. The spear hit hard enough to jar his arm from wrist to shoulder, and the head drove clear through the wood and leather to stick out six inches on the back side. If he'd been holding the shield close to his body he might have taken a flesh wound. As it was, he was unharmed.
Before Blade could do anything with his own spear, Sigluf charged. As the chief charged, he swung his shield off his back and lowered his lance into striking position. Blade had barely time to turn his horse and take the lance on his own shield. Once again the shock nearly immobilized his arm, but Sigluf found his lance point jammed in the shield. Before he could pull it free Blade gripped his war club and swung it at the lance shaft. The shaft didn't break, but it cracked and sagged as Sigluf pulled the lance free and backed his horse away before Blade could strike again.
That exchange was the last for a while. Sigluf now saw through Blade's tactics and refused to come close. He was as good a rider as Blade, and his horse was not only better trained but carrying at least fifty pounds less weight. So he easily avoided Blade's rushes. After the first half-dozen failures, Blade decided to wait until Sigluf decided to close again. His horse still seemed as strong as ever, but he didn't want to risk tiring it.
By now it was well past the dawn of another damp, grayish day. On the ground it was clear, but low-hanging clouds laid a blanket of mist and rain on the hills just beyond the dueling circle. Blade realized that he hadn't seen the sun for more than a few hours since the storm caught their boat out at sea. All the world seemed to have turned gray and damp and seemed ready to stay that way until the end of time. He suspected that a few days of bright sunshine would improve everybody's spirits. It would also dry out the ground and speed up the army's-