«Who cares about Ayocan?» shouted a woman. «I please myself-«
«I'll help you, dearie,» shouted a male voice. There was a general roar of laughter. For a moment Blade wondered if the whole mood of rage he wanted and needed for his plans wasn't slipping away.
Then the woman's voice rose again. «I please myself, I say-and I please myself by doing this to your damned blood-sucking monster-god!» An arm rose above the crowd, and a ripe fruit sailed past Blade's head to splatter on the wall just above Ayocan's head.
For a moment there was silence. Then as if the woman had given a signal, a barrage of fruit and vegetables came hurtling at Blade. He ignored it, raising himself to his full height and bellowing at the top of his lungs:
«You scorn and mock Ayocan, little people, weak spirits! His curse will be on Dafar when the time comes-his final utter curse! This I promise you in his name!»
«Well, I'll promise you this!» came a voice shrill with fury. Something small and dark sailed out of the crowd and cracked against the wall. Fragments of stone landed at Blade's feet. One stung his cheek hard enough to draw blood.
It was time to leave. He began sidling to the right. Break through that side of the crowd, and he would have a clear run to the temple mound. Be careful, though. He didn't want to hurt or kill any innocent people-just get them angry and keep them angry long enough for the priests of Ayocan to notice it.
Several more stones smacked the wall behind him. A small one struck him in the ribs, making him wince. He would have a juicy purple mark there tomorrow. He kept on toward the right, one step at a time, ignoring the stones, still shouting curses and threats in Ayocan's name. He had to be careful, though. Make too many threats, and the priests of Ayocan might think him a mere madman instead of a loyal convert.
He was almost at the edge of the crowd before anyone noticed what he was doing. Then several voices rose at once, shrill and fierce.
«He's trying to get away! Stop him!»
«Send his spirit up to Ayocan!» somebody else shouted.
«Kill!» issued from a dozen throats.
Blade didn't wait any longer. He plunged forward like a football player heading for the goal, head down and elbows out. The first man who came within range Blade kicked in the knee and punched in the jaw. The impact of Blade's fist catapulted the man into the crowd, knocking down half a dozen people behind him. More surged forward to get at Blade, tripped over the fallen, went down themselves in a hideous tangle of thrashing limbs and screamed curses.
Blade didn't wait for them to untangle. Again he plunged forward trying to avoid stepping on any of the fallen. He reached the far side of the tangle, knocked down two more men who rushed at him, snatched up one of their spears, and kept on going. Now people drew back from around him. He had stopped shouting curses. Now he shouted war cries from all the dimensions he had traveled in, waving the spear about as he did so. People continued to draw back from around him. They could have rushed him easily, but the first few to make the attempt certainly would have died. And for the moment no one wanted to be among those few. Blade had the traditional advantage of one man over a mob.
Before any could screw up their courage far enough, Blade broke through to the open. At the far end of the avenue on his right rose the great temple mound. Contemptuously hurling his spear down on the paving stones, he headed down that avenue. With equal contempt, he did not bother, looking back. Instead he raised his voice again in a shout.
«I go to the House of Ayocan in Dafar. There those who serve mighty Ayocan are honored. I will watch the god pass his judgment on you when the time comes. And I will laugh at your writhings and screamings and agony when he calls all you weak spirits. Weak, crawling, tiny spirits, that displease him. AND AYOCAN SHALL NOT BE DISPLEASED!» The last words came out in a roar that must have been heard halfway across the city. Then Blade threw back his head and laughed long and loud and harshly.
Curses and screams of rage rose from the mob. So did more stones and fruits. Then the people on the fringes surged forward, drawing swords, raising spears or their bare fists, mouth open wide. Blade did not wait around to observe more. Turning on his heels, he bolted for the temple.
If Blade had simply wanted to outrun the mob, he could have done so almost without working up a sweat. But he didn't want that. He wanted to bring the whole mob up to the temple of Ayocan hard on his heels. He wanted to make his arrival and his pleas for sanctuary in the temple mound as dramatic as possible.
So he reined himself in, throwing occasional glances back over his shoulder to see if the mob was falling too far behind. Some of the women and older men soon dropped out. On the other hand, a cluster of men in the pantaloons and sashes of warriors soon outstripped the rest and came pelting after Blade full tilt. Two of them hurled their spears as they ran. Both came disagreeably close to Blade. He began to weave from side to side as he ran, to make himself a more difficult target.
A couple of hundred people chasing one man through a major street of a major city in broad daylight was bound to attract attention. Blade began to see heads pop out of doors and windows and peer over the rails of balconies. Some threw pots and pieces of furniture at him, others came out to join the chase. Blade sprinted past a large cart drawn by four longhorned cattle. As the mob came up with the cart, the longhorns bolted, and the cart went clattering and banging away down a side street, the driver hanging on for dear life.
Now it was only a few hundred yards to the temple mound. Blade could see figures moving around on the slopes, and entering and leaving the little white but on top. And he could also see a cluster of white-pantalooned Gonsaran warriors standing at the base of the mound. Would they try to prevent him from taking sanctuary?
A hundred yards to go. The warriors had seen him and his pursuers. They were rising to their feet and spreading out in a line around the base of the temple mound. Damn it, they were going to bar his path! Or were they? Only one way to find out.
He neither stopped nor slowed as he raced up to the waiting line of warriors. He did not even bother looking at them. Instead he ran straight for a gap between two of them, ignoring the men as though they had been invisible. A sword flashed free and started toward him. But before it could complete the swing, he was through the line and scrambling up the slope of the mound.
As he climbed, he began to shout again, «Help me! Help me! I sought to spread the truth of the god Ayocan among the people of Dafar. Now they seek my life. I sought to serve the god; and I had to flee. Give me aid, give me shelter, have mercy on me!»
The priests had seen him now, and several of them were starting down the mound toward him. As they did so, a tremendous uproar rose from behind Blade, at the foot of the mound. He risked stopping for a moment, to turn and look.
The mob had also dashed up to the base of the temple mound without stopping or slowing. By sheer weight of numbers they were forcing the soldiers back. The soldiers all had their swords drawn. But it was obvious they were reluctant to shed the blood of their own people in defense of the cult of Ayocan. Blade wondered if they might not in fact turn and join the mob, regardless of what King Thambral expected them to do. He had mixed feelings about the idea. On the one hand, the mob and the soldiers might join forces, invade and sack the temple mound, drag Blade out, and hang him. This would certainly cause the needed break between King Thambral and the cult of Ayocan.
On the other hand, Blade would be too dead to take any advantage of the situation. And, other things being equal, he preferred to get out of this sort of affair alive. In the boiling mass of people at the base of the mound, he couldn't make out what was happening. He decided the safest thing was to get up the mound as fast as possible.