In the end it was she who cried quits, as Blade had sworn she would. She arched high, screamed once in piercing crescendo, and went lax under him. She pushed him away.
"Go now, Blade. Go at once." She kept her eyes closed. "I will not look on you again now, for I am surfeit, and I know my own moods. If you were an ordinary man I would have you killed now. So go quickly! Your wants will be seen to."
Blade stood over her, fighting back nausea, his brawny legs trembling with weariness and something of self-disgust. Her wig had tumbled to the floor beside the couch and in the fading candle gleam she was a bald-pated hag with a painted skull for face.
And yet he dared. "My man? And the Princess Taleen? Surely I have earned their safety this night."
She turned her face from him, ready for sleep, and he heard her whisper.
"I cannot grant you that, Blade. My people must have a show. They want blood and entertainment. It is how I rule them. But you have earned the right to try. This very day you shall be given the opportunity to save them and yourself. This much I promise. Now go before I forget how you have pleasured me and have you killed!"
There was movement behind the leather hangings and two of the maidens entered. One of them picked up the black robe and spread it over the sleeping Queen. Then, without looking at Blade directly, they conducted him to the door by which he had entered and turned him over to armed men.
He was not returned to the oubliette where Sylvo waited if he still lived but was taken to a large chamber hewn out of the living stone. He was given food and drink and there was a pile of skins in a corner for sleeping. The guards left him and he heard a great bar slotted into place.
One small barred window overlooked the battlements. Blade, weary to the marrow, stared through the bars and wondered what the day would bring. For day had come,gray, dank and misty, with the surf moaning like a lost soul in the fog below. Around him the castle was coming awake, with the familiar sounds of dawn and a great clanking of iron and bronze as the guard was changed.
He thought of Taleen, wondering where she was kept and how she fared. It was not likely she would come to harm not if Beata planned to ransom her back to King Voth of the North and yet there was no surety of this. Beata and Voth were brother and sister and there is no hatred so fierce and unrelenting as blood hate.
Blade's smile was faint as he turned from the window. He would not have harm come to Taleen. She was an irksome child yet not so much child that she did not at times tempt his flesh and he would be glad to see the last of her. Yet she figured large in his plans. In a way he was holding Taleen to ransom as much as was the queen for through the princess, Blade meant to earn the good will of Voth and so come to some status and independence in this new world in which he must live. As live he would. As live he must! He vowed it fiercely. Then, being a practical man and having need of his strength for whatever new ordeal lay ahead that day, he threw his body atop the pile of skins and was fast asleep in a minute.
Chapter Nine
Before the slaughter Blade was given leave to speak briefly with Taleen and Sylvo. Both were tied to stakes in the great inner court of Craghead castle, where a madding and blood-thirsty throng of Queen Beata's subjects had assembled to see the fun. The Queen was generous on these days, and in these matters: long tables laden with viands were waiting, and there was an abundance of wine and beer for all. The day was dark and dank, with a cold sea mist sweeping in to cloak the castle and muffle sounds.
The sea fog did not succeed in muffling the ferocious snarls of the caged bears.
"Thunor save us now!" said Sylvo. It was the first time Blade had seen the man show real fear. Sylvo, trussed to his stake with cord, was spattered with the straw and dung of the oubliette, and his squint and harelip brought him little sympathy from the crowd. He had a criminal hangdog look even Blade could not gainsay this and so was cruelly baited. Even so, and despite his fear, the man was alert and bright of eye as he whispered to Blade.
"I know, master, that if Thunor saves us it must be with your aid. So listen you well there is a chance if you can kill one of the bears quickly. At once. They eat each other, these beasts, and if you can strike one down the other may fall upon him and so give you time. And time, master, is what you must have. You see how the stakes are placed? This is not accident, master. The Queen Beata may Thunor drive a spear through her evil heart has given you a grievous choice, master."
This was truth. The stakes had been placed some fifty feet apart, so that Blade could defend only one of them at a time. He must make a choice between Sylvo and Princess Taleen.
Blade, as he listened to Sylvo, swung the mighty bronze axe in his right hand and looked to where Beata sat on a wooden throne beneath a canopy. He tried to fathom her thinking. She was not a fool, and he did not think her likely to sacrifice Taleen merely to please the mob and without profit to herself. Sylvo, on the other hand, was of no importance at all and his death might provide entertainment enough.
Another thing made Blade wonder there was a squad of archers drawn up near each stake, behind crude barriers, and at the moment one of the queen's officers was giving them orders. Blade thought he could guess at those orders. He was to be given a chance to defend himself, and Sylvo and Taleen, from the bears. If he could do it, so much the better. The populace would have their show and the only loss would be three slain bears.
Queen Beata was gambling that Blade would elect to defend Taleen, thus leaving Sylvo to be torn to bits. This, or so Blade reckoned now, would satisfy the blood lust of the people and Beata could call it off when she would, and save Blade and the princess for other things Blade for her perverted pleasures, Taleen for ransom and power over her hated brother Voth.
So the archers were placed as safeguards, to take over and slay the bears in case matters got out of hand. Blade's grin was hard. He would nearly have wagered Aesculp, the bronze axe they had returned to him, that he had figured the matter correctly.
But as he clapped Sylvo on the shoulder now and spoke encouragement, both he and the servant knew the truth: if it came down to the bone of the matter Blade would have to save Taleen and let Sylvo die.
Sylvo signified his understanding with a wink of his better eye. "I know you will do your best, master, but I am nothing beside the lady. We both know that. But by Thunor's cods do not forget that you are a wizard and make the most of it."
Blade smote him again on the shoulder, very gently, and left him. There was nothing more to say.
A silence fell on the crowd as Blade walked to Taleen's stake. They had not seen a man like this before, and the silence gave way to a low buzzing as if they realized they would not see his like again.
Blade strode with a supreme confidence that belied his inner thoughts. He made a brave figure as he twirled the great axe as easily as any toothpick, the keen bronze glinting in the dull light. His hair had grown long, and his beard thick, and he used a riband begged of the guards to keep his hair back away from his eyes. He was stripped to breeches and cross-gaitering, barefoot to get a better grip on the muddy earth, and as he moved the great muscles of his shoulders and chest rippled beneath his swarthy skin.
The bears, in wheeled cages near the throne of Beata, exploded into a new frenzy of horrendous growls as if they scented and identified their enemy.
Princess Taleen stood proudly, her head high and her brown eyes sparkling with defiance, as Blade approached. Her tunic had been ripped away to her waist and her small breasts, girlish yet full enough, thrust as defiantly as the firm chin. Cold had hardened her nipples into firm brown buttons.