Blade waited until Klerus had committed himself to a slash, then closed. He was relying on his own superior speed and the dagger which flashed in his hand. It drove straight forward into Klerus' massive belly. It was not a wound fatal at once, but it stopped the High Councilor dead in his tracks. His mouth opened, and he let out a high-pitched scream of agony and surprise. Blade dropped his dagger, stepped back, and raised his sword with both hands. As Klerus' sword sagged toward the pavement, Blade's also came down. It flashed down at an angle, slicing into Klerus' massive neck, slicing through it. In a spray of blood, Klerus' head leaped from the neck and arched down to the pavement to land with a thud. The huge body stood upright for another moment, blood fountaining from the severed neck. Then it toppled with a much louder thud. It did not even twitch.
Blade stepped back and looked around him. Dawn was breaking over the city, revealing the blood scattered bodies in the street. He counted them. Nearly all of Klerus' men and less than a third of his own force were dead. Perhaps some had fled, but he was not going to worry about them now.
Guroth came toward him, picking his way cautiously across the littered and blood-smeared stones. The High Captain had a strip of cloth bound roughly around his left hand, where the thumb and forefinger were missing. But his unhooded face shone with joy as well as sweat.
«We have done it, oh Pendarnoth. Now for the Lanyri!»
Blade grinned and nodded. «You're wounded, Captain.»
Guroth pointed at Blade's blood-caked scalp. «So are you, Pendarnoth.»
«A little. Perhaps we had both better clean ourselves before we wait on King Nefus. He will want to hear the news that he is now truly King of Pendar.»
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Blade was able to lead his men back to the palace before the sun rose much higher and the streets filled with people. Those few who were up early scuttled hastily away from the large band of armed men carrying a shrouded body through the streets. Over the past few years Klerus' men had made people wary of being too inquisitive about such sights. Even as he was being carried dead through the streets of Vilesh, Klerus' reputation was clearing the way for the men who had killed him.
But rumors move faster than marching men. Before he was halfway to the palace, Blade heard alarm gongs and horns sounding in the palace. Yellow smoke began to spiral up from signal fires and he heard the roll of drums. The palace garrison must already be pouring out of its barracks. Blade knew that it contained many of Klerus' sympathizers. Though nothing these men might do could bring the High Councilor or his plots back to life, they might still send Blade and Guroth after Klerus. Blade was prepared to pay that price. But he was hardly enthusiastic about the idea.
Blade ordered the guardsmen to step up their pace, and they moved through the streets at a jog. Guroth brought up the rear, urging the men on. Soon they broke out into the main square of Vilesh and saw the white walls and gilded roofs of the palace gleaming in the rising sun. But that same sun also shined on the armor of the palace garrison already filing out into the square. With strung bows ready, they stood in a deep line across the gates.
Blade realized that he had to move fast before some officer sympathetic to Klerus decided to stage an «accident.» But the only effective move he could see might be as suicidal as doing nothing. He would walk out into the empty square alone, calling to the soldiers, relying on their unwillingness to fire on the Pendarnoth.
He called Guroth to him and explained his plan. The High Captain was too surprised to say anything, either in praise or in protest. He stood there gaping as Blade turned and strode out into the square, head up and arms at his side.
Silence fell fog like on the square as Blade strode out toward the waiting soldiers. He kept his eyes roaming along the line, trying to seem as if he were looking each soldier individually in the eye. Only one soldier was needed to nock an arrow and fire to bring things to an end. But at least the guardsmen behind him could see what happened and perhaps run for cover.
Nearer and nearer he came, until he could begin to make out individual faces, the decorations on the gilded armor, one man raising a hand to scratch his head. He decided it was time to speak. He stopped and took a deep breath.
«Soldiers of Pendar. I, the Pendarnoth, speak to you. With my own hands this night I have slain the High Councilor Klerus, for his many treasons against Pendar and against King Nefus. In all of these treasons he had but one goal-to sell Pendar to the Lanyri who are even now marching upon this city. They are leaving behind them a trail of death and destruction. If they had come upon Vilesh with Klerus still alive to lead them, it would have gone down like any village. You would be dead under Lanyri swords, your wives ravished by Lanyri soldiers, your children dashed against the walls or hauled off to grow up in Lanyri slave pens. All this Klerus wanted to bring upon you.
«And when he had ruined Pendar, he dreamed of ruling over its ruins, to help the Lanyri bleed the corpse yet more. But my night's work has put an end to all this. I return with the traitor's body…» he pointed back to where the guard stood, Guroth at their head «… to lay before King Nefus. I will throw myself on his mercy, and if he judges me wrong in what I have done, let his will prevail. But I think he will call this night's work wise. And then I shall lead you out against the real enemies of Pendar-the Lanyri!»
Blade had never fancied himself as a speaker. He had never dreamed he could say anything to move such a mass of tough men. So he was as surprised as anyone by the reaction of the soldiers. They gave a single shout that was almost terrible to hear, two thousand men all yelling their throats out. Then they broke ranks and swarmed forward toward Blade, raising their hands and shouting, «Hear the Pendarnoth! Klerus is dead! Long live the Pendarnoth and King Nefus!»
They reached Blade and nearly trampled him to death in their enthusiasm. Then a few strong ones formed a circle around him, while others lifted him up onto their shoulders. It was on their shoulders that he made his way through the gates, into the palace, to the audience chamber of King Nefus. And it was from their shoulders that he greeted King Nefus. Even if the boy-king had wanted to punish Blade for killing Klerus, he would not have dared.
He would have faced a revolt of his own soldiers if he had done so. All he could do was wait — a long wait-until the soldiers quieted enough so he could make himself heard.
Then he climbed up on the throne and called out:
«Pendarnoth, you have this day slain a notable traitor to Pendar and to our house. You have done well. This day I call you by a new name, 'Pendarstrin,' the Savior of the Pendari.» This set off another round of cheers, and Nefus took advantage of the uproar to slip out. Blade did not see him again until that afternoon, when the king summoned the Council of Regents to his presence.
Standing in full ceremonial robes, with Guroth on one side and Blade on the other, Nefus addressed the council in blunt, clipped phrases. «It is Our royal will that the Pendarnoth shall be now the High Councilor of Pendar. There are some among you who played your part in the treasons of the late Klerus. If you accept the Pendarnoth and give him and Us good and faithful service, you will be forgiven. If not, you shall die as Klerus did.» At Nefus' signal both Blade and Guroth drew their swords. And behind them so did fifty of the Pendarnoth's Guard, with Princess Harima standing among them.