He tried to turn around, but Naula laughed and held herself against his back while he tried to reach for her. Then Blade began to laugh, and finally Naula let go and fell down onto the tent floor. In the darkness their hands reached out for each other. They drew together, and then they joined.
It was a quick and fierce joining, but it was one that filled both of them with an immense, almost overpowering pleasure and delight. Naula's small body first quivered, then writhed and twisted from head to toe. She drew up her legs until they were almost bent double. Her knees drove into Blade's ribs while her feet pounded his buttocks. Her hands thrashed and slapped and dug at his back. A continuous stream of moans and little screams sounded in Blade's ear as he bent to caress with his lips her mouth, her eyes, her ears and cheeks and throat, the breasts with their nipples now swollen so hard.
Blade lost himself in Naula's rich warmth that seemed to grow and grow with each passing moment and each movement of their united bodies. He lost himself in the swelling heat in his groin that was pleasure and searing agony at the same time. He lost himself in a struggle for control that eventually came to its inevitable end. Before long Naula drew him into her again, and then he drew her down upon him a third time, and it was only after that they slept.
Naula slept heavily, as if stunned, her hair flowing across Blade's chest and one of his hands cupping one breast. From time to time she gave little snorts and gasps. They were not enough to keep Blade awake, though. He was too pleasantly tired.
As he drifted off to sleep, he could not help wondering if he'd just been through another test as a warrior of the Kargoi. If he had, he'd certainly passed it well enough, judging from the expression on Naula's face.
Chapter 10
Blade awoke to shouts and screams and furiously running feet. For a few seconds he vaguely wondered if the sounds came from Naula, perhaps reliving in her dreams their passion earlier that night. Then he snapped fully awake, remembering just in time not to spring to his feet and knock the tent down again. Gripping his shortsword, he crawled to the entrance of the tent and looked out.
Shadowy figures were passing in all directions at a dead run. Some of them stumbled and fell. He heard cries of anger and fear, screams of pain, the twang of bowstrings, and the mounting bellow of what seemed like all the drends in the camp. It seemed as if madness had suddenly attacked all of the Red People at once.
Then Blade saw a flicker of movement overhead, and looked up. Above him in the darkness glided one of the bat-winged creatures Blade had seen flying high above the shore, silhouetted against the sunset. Half invisible in the night, it was a shadowy nightmare. As it showed clearly in the firelight it looked even worse. It was neither bird nor bat, but something that combined the worst features of both, expanded to ten or twenty times the size of either.
The bat-bird glided past, out of the light and into the darkness. Then came the snap of great wings folding and a raw, tearing scream as the thing swooped down on a victim somewhere out in that darkness.
A long line of bat-birds swept past, too high to be counted accurately. Blade heard arrows whistling upward at the dim fleeting shapes and cursed. Fired wildly like that, the arrows would seldom hit or kill and usually fall back somewhere into the crowded camp.
Then two more bat-birds came flying low through the light of the fire. This time cooler-headed archers waited for them. Blade heard the sharp cracks of arrows driving into the leathery wings. One bounced from a scaled belly. The bat-birds flew on, ignoring the arrows as they would have ignored wads of cotton from a child's slingshot. They flew on into the darkness, and more screams rose where they stooped to the attack.
The bat-birds could seek and strike in total darkness, and what kind of defense could deal with them then? Blade couldn't be sure, but he did know that no one could do much against the bat-birds unless they themselves were out in the darkness where the creatures struck.
Blade snatched up his longsword, then suddenly realized that he would do well to take an even longer weapon. Naula stuck her head out of the tent. «Get back inside and stay down!» Blade shouted, reaching for the tent pole. He jerked it free with both hands and the tent slowly settled down on top of Naula. The bat-birds might be able to see in the dark like cats, but they could hardly see through the heavy leather.
Blade dodged around fear-paralyzed women and children huddled on the ground, and leaped over the body of a warrior sprawled on his back with a Kargoi arrow through his chest. He left behind the last glow of the fire, heard a low-pitched warbling cry above him, and turned to see a bat-bird beginning its stoop on him.
With only his swords Blade could not have met his attacker. They would have gone down into death together, steel and beak and talons all sinking in at the same moment.
Instead Blade held the tent pole, eight feet of limber wood, and he swung it like a champion cricketer. The darkness and the uproar and the nightmare creature hurling itself at him neither slowed nor weakened him. The pole caught the bat-bird across the side of its elongated head, and the thin skull cracked. The creature spun out of the air and thudded to the ground practically on top of Blade. He stepped back to let it fall, then jumped on it. Light bones cracked and crunched, the two ten-foot wings flapped wildly, then twitched into stillness. Blade sprang off the body and turned to meet the next attack.
Now the battle cries of warriors joined the uproar all around him. The Kargoi were beginning to fight back like the seasoned warriors they were. Another bat-bird swooped at Blade, then turned aside at the last moment as a dread thundered past. The beast ran blindly, bawling in panic and trampling down two women who stood in its path. On its back a bat-bird was perched, talons sunk deep in the flesh and booked beak burrowing even deeper. Blade himself had to step aside, then face the stoop of another enemy.
This time Blade had the time to strike with the precision of a surgeon and the deadliness of an executioner. Crack! and the pole struck the bat-bird in the throat, practically stopping it in midair. It fell. Crack! and the pole smashed down across the back of its neck. Crack! and the pole crushed its skull. It died without a cry or a twitch.
A third bat-bird singled Blade out for attack. This one came at him already slowed by two arrows that had found weak spots in its hide. Blade stood his ground and thrust with the end of his pole at the center of its chest. The beak snapped shut inches from his face and the talons reached out for his groin. The thrust had Blade's full strength behind it, meeting the full weight of the bat-bird. Ribs and internal organs caved in and another kill lay at Blade's feet.
After that Blade stopped keeping count. Every few moments a bat-bird came at him out of the darkness. He didn't know what it was about him or the ground where he stood that drew the attackers to him, but he was sure there was something.
Some of the bat-birds missed and flew off to seek prey elsewhere. All those who pressed home their attacks met Blade's lightning-quick pole, and all those who met the pole died. The bodies thrashed and twitched and poured out blood and death cries in a widening circle around him.